z

Young Writers Society


Quandary Cottage



User avatar
935 Reviews



Gender: Other
Points: 2806
Reviews: 935
Tue May 25, 2021 6:58 am
View Likes
Shady says...



Image

You've never been the type to get tied down in one place for too long. Instead, you bounce around the realm, searching for adventure and tempting fate. Currently, you're between jobs, and you happen to see an ad that reads:

Help Wanted: ______
Inquire at Quandary Cottage

It just so happens that you are exactly perfect for the listing. It's as if the job was designed for you. And no one else seems to be paying any mind to it, even though it's in plain sight -- so you fold up the posting and slip it in your pocket and then set out for Quandary Cottage.

Quandary Cottage is in a quaint community that's tucked into the hills and surrounded by forest on all sides. The houses are all brightly lit and inviting, but you notice that, oddly, no other people seem to be around. Just then, your eyes land on a sign that reads Quandary Cottage so you walk inside.

It's a simple hut, with food and supplies in one corner and a large table in the center of the room. As you step inside, a feeling comes over you that something is very wrong. But when you turn to leave, the door won't open. And, suddenly, a sign appears on the back of the door that reads: None may leave until all arrive.

There's no way out.

No matter how much you fight or shout for help, it's impossible to leave the cottage. One-by-one other adventurers show up, but they're all as confused as you are. Finally, once all members of the party arrive, a parchment appears on the center of the table

Our fates have become one
save my life or lose your own
let your ambition guide your steps

[Please check the OOC Thread before posting!]





User avatar
935 Reviews



Gender: Other
Points: 2806
Reviews: 935
Tue May 25, 2021 7:27 am
View Likes
Shady says...



Spoiler! :
Name and pronouns: Pratik Chrenko (he/him)
Race (human, elf, dwarf, etc.): Human
Occupation (i.e., physician, ranger, bard, etc.): Mercenary
Age: 19
Appearance (just a few lines is okay): Middle brown skin, blue eyes, black hair, and angular features. He's about 6'2" tall and extremely muscular but still lean.
Image

Personality: He's very good at adopting various personas which can easily mislead people into believing whatever he wants them to believe about him, such as mistaking him for nothing more than an innocent boy, up to looking as dangerous as he actually is. He's pretty charismatic but hard to actually get to know.
Abilities (if any, it's fine if not!): No magic! He's very skilled at stealth and fighting but nothing beyond what can be learned naturally (with a lot of training).

Pratik hated ads that were as vague as this one was. Help Needed: Mercenary. What was that even supposed to mean? Did the employer want someone killed? Spied on? Coerced? It was hard to tell.

Still, he'd spent most of the coins he'd earned from the last job, so it was time for him to take another gig. And this seemed as promising as any. So he made the journey to Quandary Cottage. It was a relatively easy trip and the cottage itself was clearly marked. He tied his horse -- Kalrey -- up out front and then walked inside.

It was a simple room, some supplies off in one corner and a table off in the other. He blinked as he looked around. There didn't seem to be anyone here. "Hello?"

Pratik took another step inside, but a second glance around the room confirmed that no one else was in the cottage. That's strange... A chill ran down Pratik's spine, fear clenching his stomach. This reeked of a trap. And he'd walked straight into it.

He whirled around and grabbed the door handle, but it wouldn't budge. He yanked on it once -- twice -- three times, and then ominous words appeared on the wood right at the height of his eyes: None may leave until all arrive.

Panic surged through him. He stumbled away from the door, aghast, and spun around quickly, looking for whatever enemy it was that had lured him here. But there was still no one. He went to one of the frosted windows and tried to open it, but it wouldn't. Then he tried to break the glass, but it wouldn't even crack. He repeated the process with each of the windows and desperately tried to yank the door open again and again, but it didn't budge.

He was trapped.

"u and rina are systematically watering down the grammar of yws" - Atticus
"From the fish mother to the fish death god." - lehmanf
"A fish stole my identity. I blame shady" - Omni
[they/he]





User avatar
174 Reviews

Supporter


Gender: Female
Points: 3255
Reviews: 174
Wed May 26, 2021 10:50 pm
View Likes
soundofmind says...



Spoiler! :

Image

Name and pronouns: Jay, he/him
Race (human, elf, dwarf, etc.): Werewolf (with a human and wolf form)
Occupation (i.e., physician, ranger, bard, etc.): Jeweler
Age: 29
Personality: Jay seems a bit jaded. Blunt, clever, resourceful, quick-thinker, practical, doesn't care what people think of him. He has a bit of a bite to his tongue, and tends to say backhanded comments without meaning to. It doesn't make him popular, but that's not really his goal.
Appearance (just a few lines is okay): Jay isn't a very tall man. He's 5ft 3' and fit, but slim. Stronger than he looks. He has deep dark brown skin and short dreadlocks. He wears loose-fitting clothes and walks around barefoot, so the calluses on his feet are thick.
Abilities (if any, it's fine if not!): Has weak healing magic and can shift in and out of werewolf/human form instantaneously. Is quick and fast but not exactly built like a fighter.


Help Needed: Jeweler


That was all the information Jay had, but he knew that he was in need of some money and supplies. He hadn't worked as a jeweler for years - not since he was a teenager, traveling with his parents. But he knew enough, and hopefully, the vague ad would lead to some coin that he could use to get a few things. Namely, food. Something made by human hands would be nice, but something warm and fresh would be better.

When he walked up to the Quandary Cottage, he noticed that there was already a horse tied outside. Apart from the horse, though... there were no signs of life. Only one person was home. He could smell it.

Cautiously, he pushed his way in through the front door, quickly surveying the inside. There was one man in an empty cottage with supplies in the corner. The moment he stepped in, the door creaked closed behind him, and he gave the man a questioning glance.

Something felt wrong. He could feel it in his gut.

He turned back to the door to open it, but it was stuck.

"Well, that's not very nice, now, is it," he said to the door. And to the man in who looked like he could likely deck him with one punch.
Pants are an illusion. And so is death.






User avatar
935 Reviews



Gender: Other
Points: 2806
Reviews: 935
Thu May 27, 2021 5:56 am
View Likes
Shady says...



Pratik Chrenko

Pratik started forward swiftly as the door opened, ready for a fight. But the man who came in seemed as confused as he was. And he couldn't get out either.

Great.

Now he had to deal with being trapped with someone else instead of just being trapped by himself. He sighed deeply and asked tiredly, "Who are you?"

"u and rina are systematically watering down the grammar of yws" - Atticus
"From the fish mother to the fish death god." - lehmanf
"A fish stole my identity. I blame shady" - Omni
[they/he]





User avatar
174 Reviews

Supporter


Gender: Female
Points: 3255
Reviews: 174
Thu May 27, 2021 7:07 am
View Likes
soundofmind says...



"Depends who's asking," Jay said, looking the man up and down. "You seem a little more than miffed to be here."
Pants are an illusion. And so is death.






User avatar
935 Reviews



Gender: Other
Points: 2806
Reviews: 935
Thu May 27, 2021 7:16 am
View Likes
Shady says...



"Oh, give it a minute," Pratik answered sarcastically, unimpressed with the man already. "The charm of being trapped will wear off soon. Then we'll get to enjoy the classic drudgery of good old-fashioned imprisonment. Together. Buddy."

"u and rina are systematically watering down the grammar of yws" - Atticus
"From the fish mother to the fish death god." - lehmanf
"A fish stole my identity. I blame shady" - Omni
[they/he]





User avatar
174 Reviews

Supporter


Gender: Female
Points: 3255
Reviews: 174
Thu May 27, 2021 8:14 am
View Likes
soundofmind says...



"Yeah," Jay said, giving Pratik an equally unimpressed look. "I'd never be buddies with you. But in the meantime, I'm going to look around and see if there's a way out that you missed."
Pants are an illusion. And so is death.






User avatar
935 Reviews



Gender: Other
Points: 2806
Reviews: 935
Thu May 27, 2021 8:26 am
View Likes
Shady says...



"Have at it," Pratik said flatly. As if there was a way out that he had missed. Absurd. He returned to his trek of pacing beside the wall, this time staying close to the door, as he resolved to dive out of it if it opened again.

"u and rina are systematically watering down the grammar of yws" - Atticus
"From the fish mother to the fish death god." - lehmanf
"A fish stole my identity. I blame shady" - Omni
[they/he]





User avatar
278 Reviews



Gender: Male
Points: 18564
Reviews: 278
Thu May 27, 2021 4:24 pm
View Likes
LittleLee says...



Spoiler! :
Name and pronouns: Tithorea Glasswell (Called Rea for short)(she/her)
Race (human, elf, dwarf, etc.): Elf
Occupation (i.e., physician, ranger, bard, etc.): Medic/physician
Age: 19
Personality: She's the biggest bookworm you'll find. Show her anything with writing and she'll devour it. She's quick to learn and memorize new concepts - if she really likes a book she'll quote half the thing at you - but fails miserably in every aspect of combat.

Rea is very mild-mannered and absent minded, especially when she's making notes or reading something. It's quite difficult to make her angry, but when she gets mad, imagine a furious chihuahua.

Appearance: She has wavy brown hair, an aquiline nose, and sharp cheekbones, and stands little over five feet. She looks rather wispy, as though she might be blown away in a gust of strong wind.
Rea has a pair of large, round spectacles (she has mild myopia) and wears a white shirt with a sleeveless brown vest on top and baggy moss-green trousers. She generally has a terrible sense of fashion, but gets very enthusiastic about it.
Abilities (if any, it's fine if not!): Rea has an ability called Delving; by transmitting her magic through touch, she can know the basic weakness of whatever she touches. So, if she touches a brick wall, she'll be able to tell its weak spots, and what will work best against it. If it's something she doesn't know, she'll still have a sense of what will work against it. Note that she can't Delve an entire building or something, just around the area that she touches it.
This works on living things too, but in a different way; when she Delves someone, she'll pick up any injuries/issues in their body. That includes poisons, broken bones, diseases, etc. This allows her to be very precise in using her medical skills.
Overusing her powers will lead to her fainting without warning. She'll remain unconscious for a few hours.
She can't use her powers when inebriated or drugged.


Rea wandered into the little den of houses, admiring the simple yet elegant aesthetics of the area. Oddly, no one seemed to be about. She frowned, and checked the ad again:

Help needed: Experienced Medic


It said to inquire at Quandary Cottage, and here she was; but why wasn't anyone else around? Surely there would have been some other medics interested in applying.
Ah well. Perhaps they all- ooh, what's that? Rea was momentarily distracted by a brilliantly coloured butterfly that swooped past her nose. Her eyes followed it as it gracefully dipped through the air and landed on a small sign reading Quandary Cottage.
Her last employers - a bunch of rowdy mercenaries - hadn't been paying her consistently for her services, so here she was.
Straightening her clothes and patting down her hair, she stepped up to the door and entered.
"I believe a man does what he can until his destiny is revealed to him."





User avatar
135 Reviews



Gender: Female
Points: 4325
Reviews: 135
Thu May 27, 2021 5:35 pm
View Likes
SilverNight says...



Spoiler! :
Image

Name and pronouns: Nikolai Sokolov, he/him
Race (human, elf, dwarf, etc.): Human
Occupation (i.e., physician, ranger, bard, etc.): Artist (sketching and drawing)
Age: 20
Personality: He can be really sweet and he’s always empathetic, but he has social anxiety, gets scared of a lot of things, and often acts shy, though he’d still do his best to be friendly to everyone. If he sees vulnerability in someone, there’s a good chance he’ll try to protect them. He’s creative and loves art, but doesn’t usually choose to share his ability with anyone unless it’s needed.
Appearance: He has dark brown hair, deep green eyes, and the pale skin for a climate that doesn’t see much sun. He's wiry but not really muscular, about 5’11” tall. He’s wearing a dark, long robe-like coat with gold thread lining the edges, a blueish-gray shirt underneath, a light blue crystal pendant around his neck, black pants and riding boots. He’s left behind the small side pouch he normally wears for now and instead carries around a backpack with art supplies (things he can use to draw) and a few other things that were in his pouch before. (Here's a visual, candles and magical book added for fun.)
Abilities: oh boy this is an long explanation, here we go
Nikolai is able to temporarily bring his sketches to life— if he draws a object on paper (or any surface that can be drawn on), he can make that drawing into a 3D object that can be used and will last for a few hours before it turns back to the drawing it was before.
There are plenty of constraints, though— to name a few, he can’t draw food or drink and then eat it because it’d quickly turn back into a drawing and he’d be hungry again, he can’t make the created objects have things like heat, sound, etc (for example, he can draw a fireplace, but not a working fireplace that makes heat, and he can draw a music box, but not a working music box that makes sound), and if he tries to draw anything living or moving— say a bird— then if he puts a bit of work into it that bird can hop and fly around, but that would be all it could do and it wouldn’t be alive in any way, like a mindless wind-up toy, before becoming lines of pencil on paper again.
Also, he has a smaller ability to transfer color from one object to another (which “drains” it from the first, but is easily reversible), and he often uses it for coloring the temporary objects he draws, so Nikolai never has to carry around coloring supplies wherever he goes.


Help Needed: Artist


Nikolai blinked, frowning at the advertisement. Now that was a strange way of asking for a commission. Why phrase it as a cry for help? It didn't even specify what kind of artist it wanted— a sculptor, a painter, a sketcher. He was the last of the three, but maybe he wasn't what they had in mind. His eyes scanned the paper, looking for the address. Inquire at Quandary Cottage. Quandary. The name was just as strange as the advertisement, but it just helped to point out that someone there had a problem. If that problem needed a drawing of something to have it fixed, it must be an unusual problem indeed.

Not only could he use a commission, but he was curious, so he decided this might be worth a look.

There wasn't anyone around to get directions from, so Nikolai had to find his way on his own. Thankfully, the cottage had a sign. He knocked on the door, but no one came to open it, so he hesitantly tried pushing it open. To his surprise, it was unlocked, and he stepped inside.

But when Nikolai turned around after closing the door behind him, he saw he wasn't alone in the room. There were three people there already, one of which seemed to have just arrived. Had they seen the same advert and come to accept the job before he did? Nikolai felt worried all of a sudden. He didn't want to have competition.

"Oh," he said nervously, stepping back towards the door and reaching for the handle. "Well, you all got here first and I don't want to snatch your job from you, sorry—" His hand found the doorknob behind him, and he quickly turned it as hard as he could, ready to dash out.

It didn't move, as if it had just been locked.

Nikolai's panic had just tripled. Now he was embarrassing himself in front of all these people by not even being able to open a door. Mumbling apology after apology, he kept tugging at the handle, but it wouldn't budge.

Maybe it was locked?

Nikolai turned back to the three, cheeks slightly flushed. Maybe he'd have to stay here. "Sorry," he said quietly. "I don't think it's opening."
"silv is obsessed with heists" ~Omni

"silv why didn't you tell me you were obsessed with heists I thought we were friends" ~Ace

"y’all we outnumber silver let’s overthrow her >:]" ~winter

silver (she/they)





User avatar
935 Reviews



Gender: Other
Points: 2806
Reviews: 935
Thu May 27, 2021 11:34 pm
View Likes
Shady says...



Pratik sprinted forward the instant the door opened again and a girl stepped inside. The door started swinging shut again before he could get through it. He grabbed it with both hands and tried to keep it from closing, but it didn't even slow. He growled with frustration and slammed both fists against the door, then turned to begin angry pacing back and forth, ignoring the girl who'd come in.

He finally stopped pacing when another guy walked inside. So, apparently four them still wasn't enough for whatever sick game this was supposed to be. He sighed in frustration. "No. It's not opening."

"u and rina are systematically watering down the grammar of yws" - Atticus
"From the fish mother to the fish death god." - lehmanf
"A fish stole my identity. I blame shady" - Omni
[they/he]





User avatar
278 Reviews



Gender: Male
Points: 18564
Reviews: 278
Fri May 28, 2021 7:05 am
View Likes
LittleLee says...



Rea was initially a little apprehensive about the two men who looked like they provided medics with a lot of work, but then saw the angry one's reaction. "Eh?" Rea said, frowning at the door. "It's shut? But I just came in..." she tugged futilely on the door.

"Hummm. That's interesting." She turned towards the food and supplies stacked in the room. "What are those for? Is anyone here hurt?"
"I believe a man does what he can until his destiny is revealed to him."





User avatar
174 Reviews

Supporter


Gender: Female
Points: 3255
Reviews: 174
Fri May 28, 2021 9:16 am
View Likes
soundofmind says...



While more people came in and freaked out about the mysterious self-locking door, Jay busied himself with investigating the cottage. It appeared to be one story, and the windows all seemed to be sealed and unbreakable. He wasn't going to try to shatter the glass, though. This seemed to be more of a freaky... magic thing. Though he wasn't familiar with magic like this.

He pulled out the note again. The one with the original post, asking for help, and he subtly gave it a sniff from a distance. There was a similar, but faint smell lingering in the cottage, which meant that whoever had put out the "help wanted" request had to have been in the cottage at some point.

It also seemed like the place was ridiculously well insulated, because there weren't any smells from outside drifting in through the walls, either.

When he inspected the supplies and food, it looked like they might've been meant for travel. Or as some kind of stock to keep them all alive while they were trapped.

Because this was, undoubtedly, a trap. He just didn't know why he'd been trapped with all these strangers. Was it chance?

"Don't know yet. And no one's hurt," Jay answered the pointy-eared woman plainly. If anyone was bleeding, he would've been able to smell it a mile away. "At least, not yet. Though it seems we've all been trapped here on purpose."

He held out the ad he had that said "Help Wanted" for the others to see.

"This is why I'm here. Why are you all here?"
Pants are an illusion. And so is death.






User avatar
278 Reviews



Gender: Male
Points: 18564
Reviews: 278
Fri May 28, 2021 3:04 pm
View Likes
LittleLee says...



Looking confused, Rea held hers up. "Mine's almost the same, but for a medic."
"I believe a man does what he can until his destiny is revealed to him."





User avatar
59 Reviews



Gender: Female
Points: 1373
Reviews: 59
Fri May 28, 2021 8:40 pm
View Likes
SirenCymbaline says...



Spoiler! :
Name and pronouns: Dr Lisbet Liebeskrank
Race:
Human
Occupation:
Physician
Age:
23
Personality:
Cheerful, brisk. Curious. Friendly. Lisbet is just a travelling honey who wants to help people- but she can get bossy and stubborn when her abilities are questioned.
Appearance:
Image
Short, small woman. Wears a plague mask, a gothic cloak and a riding jacket over a red dress and five poofy petticoats. Will edit pic in here soon
Abilities:
Medicine, first aid, emergency surgery. However her medicinal knowledge is based on my layman's research of medieval doctoring so she might try to use leeches on you >.< fair warning

Name and pronouns:
Samson. He/him.
Occupation:
Samson is a donkey.
Personality:
Very chill.


Doktor Liebeskrank


A small woman in a soft, grey plague doctor mask and a tall black hat rode slowly through the forest on a donkey in a flowery straw hat.

"Post-haste, Samson! Our anonymous caller has neglected to name their emergency," Lisbet instructed her steed.

Samson continued at a leisurely pace.

"Meaning, it may be a dire one, so dire as to prevent them from writing properly." Lisbet clarified.

Samson snorted softly.

"Well even if it IS a trap, someone could still need help in there." Lisbet argued.

Samson stopped walking, and simply turned his straw-hatted head to look at her.

Lisbet put her hands on her hips.

"Samson, let's go." she said sternly. "I don't care if you're worried about me, I will be well and that will be that."

Alas, Samson was unconvinced.

"I'll buy you lots of carrots." she added.

___


Lisbet burst through the cottage door, and promptly shut it behind her.

"HALLO, guten tag, I am Doktor Liebeskrank, who is your emergency?" she said all at once, her gloved hand still on the doorknob.
Bad souls have born better sons, better souls born worse ones -St Vincent








I think the best thing about making it into the quote generator is when nobody tells you, so one day you're just scrolling and voila, some phenomenally inane thing that crawled out of your dying synapses and immediately regretted being born the second it made contact with the air has been archived for all time. Or worse, a remark of only average inanity. Never tell me when you've put me in the generator. Pride-tinged regret just doesn't taste the same without the spice of surprise.
— SirenCymbaline