I wouldn’t say it’s my game, but I’m part of it! kingw00k originally suggested it and @RUNEHAMMER_OPS is organizing the whole thing and then we have me, @ObisFaedux, @Groupo_Fellas, @monomakes, kingw00k, @Rogue_IXian, and potentially Sterling GMing, a bunch of games starting next week! I volunteered to be the world’s librarian and am in charge of cataloging all the updated events and details to maintain consistency from game to game to game and GM to GM.
We’re really excited about diving into all the clue threads within Alfheim and we’re already seeing the players with contagious energy. @Rogue_IXian also wrote up this killer intro to set the scene of the whole worldwide event:
A call has gone out across Alfheim. A call for adventurers. A mysterious threat to Grey, to life on Urth itself, has reared its ugly head. And while our military might is as strong as ever, this foe is an enigma beyond understanding. We require the unique, the foolhardy, the debonair, and the doomed.
Announcements are made in the University towers and Guild Halls. Whispers spread through black markets and midnight rendezvous. Word reaches every desert oasis and each mountain redoubt. The need is great. And so the heroes of Alfheim flock to the City of Grey.
Teeming with life on any day, the city is now bursting with manic activity. As always, the city takes its piece from the naive and the uninitiated. Outfitters’ warning, “Be prepared!” encumber the anxious with solutions for every eventuality. Taverns and halls compete to host those heroes of great renown, hopeful that gawkers will overlook watered-down grog and rats meat pie for the chance to hear a tale of daring from those who’ve lived it.
You’ve bided your time and waited for the city’s bureaucracy to begin its opaque process of selection for the various tasks apparently at hand. Many hours pass in the Great Square as you sit in queues, have your tunic marked with various splotches of paint, answer vague meaningless interview questions, and perform repetitive tasks under seemingly aimless scrutiny.
Three days later, the thousands have been culled down to roughly 100 smug souls. The rejected are left to brawl and boast and make excuses. You are here, deep in the Keep’s military wing, and they are not. The criteria remain a mystery, as some remain who you’d certainly hesitate to join in battle. A young man in a red robe seems to spend most of his time hacking blood into a stained handkerchief. Two sisters are kept apart from the group and there is gossip that they’ve fatally stabbed several people without provocation over the course of the last few days.
As you continue to consider your elite company, a tired man in unremarkable dress enters the room and begins speaking without any introduction. “Thank you all for your endurance. I can assure you the process is warranted as you may soon see. We have one more check we must conduct. You will please step forward one at a time.”
A small woman has entered and taken a cane bottom chair that was carried in behind her. The tired man gestures impatiently at the closest of you. He grabs an arm, and guides a brawny youth in front of the woman. She does not lift her gaze. She stares diligently at the ground. He stands there, momentarily confused, and waits. Eventually, she nods, and the youth is guided through the door behind her. The next volunteer, grasping the process, steps forward without assistance. She again waits, but this time she shakes her head, briefly and barely, and instantly, soldiers step forward and pull him through a side door before he can mount a confused protest. One by one, the volunteers are presented and rejected or admitted at the woman’s slightest sign. Some protest, some threaten violence. Some attempt it. But whoever is managing this process anticipates the resistance and is well prepared.
Your turn comes, and for some reason, you’re not nervous. After a moment, she nods quickly twice and you feel not relief, but momentary fear. And you pass into the inner sanctum…