soulping | EPONA

EPONA

A knot of wild shrubbery closes off a plain stone alcove big enough for your team and...surprisingly tall. In fact, several feet above all your heads, a small stormcloud hovers, grumbling with faint thunder.

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[ Wilder the Trickster's voice sounds from somewhere outside. ]

I don't care how noble and heroic you're feeling; what I've got for you is far more interesting. You're going to be thinking up curses. To start with, every team has to come up with three curses. Something like, "You shall wake up with eight hangnails every day for the rest of your life," or, "May your undergarments itch into infinity." Nothing too violent or damaging, mind you. Today I don't feel like healing up you sorry lot if you wind up maiming each other.

Oh, and don't try to make them blessings instead. If anyone tries that, I'll change them into curses myself. Now, do be as creative and entertaining as possible, hmm? I'm looking forward to it.

So, have you all got three curses? Good, good. Now you'll be selecting a team to send each of them to--no more than one per team!

And let me tell you, if you don't pick, I'll pick for you.

This time, you need to send two curses to other teams. No more than that.

You can only send one curse this time. Make the best of it.

The following curses now swirl beneath the stormcloud above you:

"May you stub your toe as you get out of bed every morning for the rest of your life."

Above your heads, the stormcloud dwindles and slowly vanishes. The handful of curses that hovered beneath it fall down to hover around each team member instead. The overgrowth blocking the way out of the alcove pulls away. You can go to endgame, relatively free and clear.

Edited 2014-08-13 02:37 (UTC)

Hovering beneath the stormcloud are the following curses:

1. "May all of your hairstyles become massive afros, and may you be unable to store all your possessions anywhere else but said afros."
2. "May all your speech be dramatic, over-the-top, anime-style declarations."
3. "May you become Dark Mou-- that is, may you feel compelled to constantly hit on anyone in sight with the cheesiest pick-up lines possible, all while pelvic thrusting."

Edited 2014-08-13 00:09 (UTC)

The stormcloud grumbles above you, then spits out the following curses to hover angrily beneath it:

1. "You can't read."
2. "You will always confuse the salt and sugar and ruin your coffee and eggs."

Edited 2014-08-13 01:09 (UTC)

The stormcloud grumbles above you, then spits out the following curses to hover angrily beneath it:

1. "May you stub your toe as you get out of bed every morning for the rest of your life."
2. "May you never completely sneeze, even though you were sure you had to sneeze."

Edited 2014-08-13 01:49 (UTC)