⇨ END OF EVENT LOG

[ringleaders]

Who: Everyone participating in the Prince's challenge.
When: Day 178, Afternoon
Where: A Conjured Forest
What: The Carnival takes to the Hunt again, but this time, with the intention to win.
Warnings: Violence and death.

SACRIFICES↴ In a bid to definitively settle a victor and reclaim the captured carnival workers, the Ringmaster has challenged the Prince to another hunt. If the Prince wins this challenge, he can claim the Blue Rose the Carnival stole; if the Carnival wins, the Ringmaster will be allowed to claim one True Name in the Prince's possession. With the Manor reshaped as it is, there's no longer a courtyard to transform into a suitable hunting ground. Instead, the Prince's magic has turned one of the floating islands between the fortress and the Carnival into an overgrown forest. Being a fae contest, of course, each side's idea of victory is not as straightforward as it would appear, but for those participating in the hunt, there is only one objective that matters: to kill their prey in the time they're given. The captives who have been transformed into beasts will have little of their human sentience remaining, and will be set loose to wander the forest freely. Instinct will compel them to conceal themselves or attack hunters, depending on their individual disposition. Upon death, the beasts will remain in their bestial forms. IN HOT PURSUIT↴ To win this challenge, the hunters must bring all of the beasts down with weapons or innate strength within the time limit: an hour and one minute. No magic may be used to take any of the beasts down -- any use of supernatural or magical abilities to trap, track, or kill the creatures will result in a forfeit to the Prince, and this will be made explicitly clear to the hunters before the contest begins. Hunters are allowed to bring their own weapons and mounts, provided they are non-magical in nature (or their magical abilities are not being actively used). If they do not have their own, ordinary ones of any variety will be provided to them. To expedite the proceedings, rather than dragging the bodies back individually, each hunter will receive a token from the Prince: an enameled blue rose. To formally claim a kill, they must place the rose on the dead beast (ideally, in their mouth, though as long as it's touching it it will do) and activate the spell by reciting the following words: "I claim this life for thy Master's game." "A life surrendered to claim my prize." Using the rose in this way will cause its petals to instantly wilt and magically bring the dead beast, and any hunters touching it, back to the Prince. So, don't touch it if you want to stay in the forest for more hunting. A CAPTIVE AUDIENCE↴ The Prince and the Ringmaster will be waiting for the results of the hunt in a roughly-constructed marble amphitheatre on another floating bit of rock. Those whose stomachs are too weak to take up even just the appearance of hunting can stay at the Carnival or hang out in the amphitheater, with the caveat that any attempt to attack the Prince or use magic to aid the captured prey will instantly default the win to the Prince. Should they want something to do other than twiddle their thumbs, the non-fighting carnival workers can peer into the hand mirrors left on the seats, smaller versions of what the Prince is watching the hunt through. They will be unable to control what images are brought up in the mirror, and it essentially only shows whatever the Prince is looking at himself. There's no sound, but the images are in full color (all the better to see blood with). This is also the area that the hunters and prey will be brought to when the spell is activated (or when every creature has been hunted). So, expect for a pile of corpses to end up there. [ OOC: This log wraps up the end of the Heartstone Manor plot! It is up to hunters and prey to create their own toplevels and sort out who will be delivering the finishing blow (feel free to use the OOC post about this event to coordinate that), but OOCly, it's set that the Carnival will win the Prince's challenge. The hunt's conclusion will be posted as a separate comment for characters to respond to.]

Comments

[espigeon]

If those concerns could be conveyed to the daspletosaurus and he could respond he would indicate that his hearing is excellent and his sense of smell even better. He's got some awareness of where most of the other creatures, and the bipeds, are in this forest. If things were otherwise then the peryton could keep visual watch and he could listen and scent and they could protect each other from surprises, or else perhaps the flyer could lead him to distant prey. And, yes, stealthy though the dinosaur can be he's much easier to get a glimpse of, down on the ground with the hunters. He can afford some attention.

His mouth gapes open and he kind of shuffles in place, heavy feathered tail wafting behind him. The fluttering call is familiar, not that he can place it. He's just pleased to exchange noises, even if they don't mean much. Call-and-response could come to mean something, but for now it's just "I'm here! You're here!", and maybe for himself, I used to sing! I still sing! Isn't that nice?

Making a call like that, multiple high notes in sequence, is beyond him just now Instead, focusing intently, he makes a series of muted pocking noises that build into something too soft and affiliative to really be a growl, halfway between a percolator and a purr.

[pipers_son]

He's here indeed, and the Peryton kind of likes it- letting his presence be known in such an attention getting way. It'd be better, if there wasn't things lurking in the foliage, seeking to hurt them. Even entertaining the idea of it- a little abstract but possible to the corvid part of him- has the Peryton's attention. Getting attention, messing around, making noise.... It feels nice.

It feels right.

The strange noises that aren't a purr but close enough are low, and, finally, the Peryton carefully navigates his head carefully through the leaves so that his antlers don't get caught in any branches. This makes at least a part of him visible as he looks over the daspletosaurus with a little less in the way. After a moment of curious looking, he finally returns the sound. It's not exactly the same, but it is also a soft noise, and almost seems to rattle in hi throat.

[espigeon]

Oh! Hello! The daspletosaurus doesn't have language but that's pretty much what comes to mind. He has a moment of genuine, uncomplicated happiness when the Peryton shows his head that just intensifies when he gives a rattling noise, and he can't smile, but that doesn't bother him. He sort of wriggles and turns a circle, much more quietly than you usually expect of three-ton dinosaurs, and tries to rouse the feathers on his neck and head, though they don't really work quite right for that.

He's working with a much more limited range of available sounds than a creature with a corvid voicebox, so, looking up, he just gives another friendly rumble, jaws closed, the skin on his snout vibrating, and flaps his little, feathered arms a couple of times.

This could probably go on for a while, but the wind changes. He goes silent and casts about, sniffing audibly, feathers standing up in a ridge along his long spine.

[pipers_son]

Normally, some displays would be aggression, or to chase something off.... Or, you know, to get laid. Considering the exchange they've just had, however, the Peryton is fairly certain he's not being effectively threatened. He's also.... pretty sure he's not being flirted with. (But it's still a possibility.) No, he's pretty sure this is just run of the mill excitement, and he starts to shift a bit to settle down for what seems like what will be a long few moments of silliness.

Of course, then they're both given a harsh reminder of what's really happening in this forest.

The moment his noise companion goes quiet, so does the Peryton, and he immediately starts to pull his head back into the foliage. The only thing that ends up visible is the very tip of his nose, and the shine of his eyes as he waits.

[espigeon]

The daspletosaurus's nose is a superb instrument, but a pigeon's nose is pretty good too, if differently calibrated. He knows the Peryton smells familiar, if not quite correct, and associates him with red and wings and antlers. And song. That a few of those were confirmed is delightful, but he doesn't get the chance to work past that.

The hunters aren't close close. He can't hear them yet, even though his ears are pretty good. They are definitely close enough that he can pick out the scents of different individuals. He knows that they, and the beasts, are out here for a reason and that reason is violence, even if he can't quite conceptualize past that. He looks back up, sees that the Peryton has retreated again.

Team up, a part of him says. But it's a very small part of him, and he is very large and can't grasp how to do that, and the thought becomes just a wistful feeling. Singing was fun. It's a shame it can't just continue.

He heaves a great sigh and, filled with regret and resignation, swings his snout from the Peryton's hiding place towards where the closest hunters are, and back. There's a thing over there. Keeping his jaws closed, he sings something that doesn't sound remotely like an animal, a pattern of rising and falling sort of drumbeats.

What he really wants is one more response, but get it or not, after a moment he'll be off, making his challenge-and-warning calls again.