where the forest has teeth

Good morning, stranger. No matter what was happening within the last few minutes of your life, it's not happening anymore. All you recall about the transition from there to this sleepy, abandoned grove in the middle of the foggy woods is a collective of childish voices whispering in your mind, Do you want to play with me? And it did not care what the answer was. The manor, ever inaccessible, has not a single light within the windows, but the general store and the inn both seem to have some life- you may just miss the child watching through the manor attic as you approach the other locations.

Also notable is what looks to be a street stall manned by a shadow cloaked in red and a giant turtle. The warm glow of lights and the sourceless jovial music is also inviting. The woman herself, however, can only stare with her eye-lights a gray shade that seems unfitting. Even when she shakes off her dismay, there's something shaky in her voice as she speaks later.

Though there's an abundance of flowers, something about them seems wrong. Maybe it's the fact that some of them are the size of sports balls. Or the roots are starting to emerge through the dirt, sprawling across the grove's floor like a mess of cords. Or maybe it's the fact that the red dog keeps snarling and trying to dig through them. When you investigate, some of the flowers have leaves and petals sharp as knives. They do not grab you... yet. Do be careful, because they will if you let your guard down.

The entire place is strange and odd. But you are not alone. Be it those beside you, freshly awakened, or the residents already here. Welcome to Aldric's Grove.

At some point, the grove is more... open. With how closed in the clearing is, with it's dreary cloudy sky and the fog all around, it always felt small. But now? Now it's... strange. It's open. And perhaps that is when you realize, you can enter the woods. It's letting you in perhaps more than one might expect, but ultimately there is still no escape. But as you venture forth, some of the trees, you note, are oddly shaped. The trunk twists or warps into uneven lumps, or maybe a branch looks more like an arm than it should. And then you find them.

Someone you know, warped and wooden, leaves growing from them like any normal tree. Were they fighting? Were they fleeing? Did they freeze in surprise? All you can tell is that no one escaped. But why are they here? Where did they come from? Press your ear against their chest and you can hear the flow of water. Or... maybe it's... no, no, it must be water. Do you dare try and cut through the bark? Try and uproot the tree? And now that you see the faces, it feels like every single tree in the area is looking right at you. Watching.

Waiting.

Something in the air giggles.

While the forest invites you to see the horrors of the forest, a more clear cut path through the fog also extends it's invitation. The narrow path through the fog may be easier than open air, now that you know what lies beyond. Eventually the fog dissipates and leaves you in a one-tree forest; every tree is the same species and, though it may not be true, feels as if they're exactly the same. Same height. Same width. Same space apart, from all angles. Even as the fog surrounds you, it feels like an endless pattern of wood, and you are the outlier. At least you are not alone.

The only other thing breaking the pattern is a gray, whispy figure made of smoke sitting at a raw log table, a deck of cards before it. The smoke breaks to offer a grin with too many teeth, and it gestures to the cards.

Round of cards? You pick the game. Win, and I'll give you something nice.

... At least there's no moosetaur ready to break your neck at a moment's notice this time, at least, but if you do cheat a hail of acorns and other tree nuts falls upon you. Hard. Bruisingly so, even. The figure does not stop smiling all the while. You can challenge the figure to any card game played with a standard deck of cards alone, or with up to two other players- so one to three players against the smoke total. Refusal to play is met with an easy smile... but the three-day loss of one of your senses.

Several weeks ago- ... or... was it days? Time is strange here, foggy and unclear- there was a ruckus at the river. And then it had closed, cutting the survivors off from their main source of food. Now, the path to the river is open and upon entry, it's much different. The thorns and giant brambles are gone, the open space unblocked by the fog is wider, and a larger abundance of fish can be seen, none recognizable... except. Huh. That sure is a holographic turtle. And golden fish that glow like the sun...

The water is cold and clear. The riverbanks are full of flowers and clovers. Scales and bones and medalions still wash up on the shore or can be fished out from between the cracks, but the teeth seem to be gone at least. Compared to the watchful, hateful, despairing air of the forest, the river is welcoming. Above the water, it feels like there's not a cloud in the sky. Nothing can reach you here.

Growing around the river is also some fruit trees- apples, primarily. If you take one, it's the brightest red you've ever seen on a fruit, and should you bite into it, it's perhaps the most delicious thing you've had in a long while. Idly, there is a soft voice flowing through the water and the air, gentle enough to go unnoticed.

thank you.

Whatever you remember last, something interrupts - be it a fight, a test, a walk, or death itself. All you can recall is a childlike voice (or was it voices?) asking, "Do you want to play with me?" before everything stopped. Your eyelids feel heavy, and the surrounding air is chilled. When you wake up, you and the others find yourselves standing in a makeshift plaza on a foggy morning. In the very center is a well. The water within is cold and clear as can be.

Surrounding the clearing is a ring of what looks to be the foundations of buildings never finished, save for two rather large ones and a smaller one. Only the small building has any light shining from the windows. One is labeled as an inn but has no name, and the other is an imposing, large manor with a red dog quietly scratching at the door. Given the indents on the wood, he's been at it for a very long time. Beyond the buildings is the start of a forest, though it quickly fills up with a fog so thick you can't see through it at all.

The smaller building is simply signed as a general store. A thick figure stands in the doorway, layered in brown and dark red cloaks that cover most of his body, save for brown worker's gloves and his pants. Two blue lights shine from the shadows where his face would be, and they shift as they watch you... before he turns around and takes his seat at the counter of the store. It's open, but he doesn't seem too thrilled.

There's a gap in the fog in the south east corner of it all, and you can hear the flow of water if approached. Trying to force your way through the fog lets you move forward four feet before you hit an invisible wall, while trying to go up- be it flight or climbing- sees you thwarted twenty feet above the canopy with a similar experience. Those above will see only the tree tops and a dense, heavy fog, and a cloudy, cold sun-lit sky. Through your explorations, you can find the start of a gate almost opposite across the clearing of the river, with a somehow familiar sign hanging from it:

Welcome to Aldric's Grove.

The inn is just as empty as the rest of the grove, save for the shopkeeper. Four rooms on the first floor are locked, and won't budge even under force, and their keys are missing from the clerk's counter. On the bright side, there are remaining keys, free to claim - keys to the store rooms, too. The kitchen is large, as one might expect from an inn, but the kitchenware seems a touch out of date, by anyone's standards. The pantry has enough to feed the lot of you for a time, fresh food and vegetables and dried or cured meats, alongside spices and herbs. One could bake if they were so inclined.

There's a lounge room as well, just before the stairs. All the furniture was pushed to the wall for what can be presumed to be cleaning, if the empty bucket and dry mop is anything to go by. In the center of the far wall is an empty fireplace, but there's no firewood to be found.

Upstairs are more rooms, accessible only with keys. It's not perfect, but it's at least a place to stay. There's a bed for two, a small table by the window, a dresser and closet, a very small stove and a private bathroom to each, but everything seems bare... at a glance.

The worst of it is that you know the layout. You've been here before- or... no, that can't be right. Surely you would remember a place like this. Right?

"What you take from the river, you must return." That's what the Shopkeeper says, if you stop by the store before going to the river.

The water rushing over rocks can be heard even from the distance of the grove itself, but upon approach it only seems louder. From what can be seen, the fog has only receded enough to grant access to 30 yards of the river and it's matching banks- after that, only fog and unusually thick bramble patches remain and block off passage on land or water. At it's deepest, the water is four feet deep and the current seems gentle. Fish can be seen swimming through the water, and objects glitter beneath the sand and mud.

Along the riverbanks, scales, small bones and teeth and strange coins marked with canines litter the ground. Keen eyes will note that some of the bones and teeth are that of animals, and some are that of humans. Some, however, are impossible to identify.

Stepping into the water feels relaxing. It's cold yet inviting. The fish swirl around your ankles before darting away, and just for a moment, everything seems like it will be okay.

On the other hand, when trying to cut through the brambles, there's a low rumble from the surrounding woods. Persist, and a vine coils around your ankle, dragging you into the water. That feels less relaxing, most likely.

At some point, there's an unusual sound- earth moving on it's own, old trees parting from their nesting place and rearranging themselves behind the fog. And as the din dies down, the fog parts, showing a thick tunnel of trees and leaves. It might look like something out of a fairy tale, if not for the sickening noises of the bark and wood creaking and writhing slowly. Whether you want to go or not, however, you will find yourself compelled to walk down the road eventually.

The road seems like a brief fifteen minute hike and a near three hour trek at the same time, but when you come to the end, you find yourself still in the woods, still circled by fog, but not the same as the grove. Once enough people are there, the path closes behind you. Keen eyes may spot hollowed out logs, trees with holes beneath the roots or high up above the branches, and large patches of very tall grass. Within the center is a cage with a pinecone shaped button on two opposing sides. Before you can finish taking it all in, however, a soft, cheerful whisper of a voice speaks:

"Let's play! If you win, I'll give you something special. Promise! Here, I'll explain the rules:"

1. Robbers must hide within the arena, and not get caught. Upon being found by the jailer, they have the opportunity to flee. But if they get caught, they get brought to jail.

2. Prisoners cannot free themselves, but free players can by pushing both of the buttons on the cage. This will give everyone a three minute immunity to run and hide again.

3. Players must move every five minutes, or they get caught immediately.

"The game will end if everyone gets caught or if at least one person stays free at the end of the hour."

The voice doesn't elaborate what happens if everyone gets caught- if you lose. Instead, it's jailer steps forward from the shadows, staring at everyone with a featureless face. It resembles a moose-faced centaur made of rusted metal and wood, yet what should be creaky, slow steps are light and agile. You have five minutes to hide. But when it bursts into a run, searching forcefully through grass, leaving cracks in the earth beneath its hooves as it starts to run, there's an unsettling feeling in your stomach: what happens if you get caught at all?

In order to win as a group, 10 threads featuring a successful escape- be it from the monster or from the cage- must be submitted by the end of the month. You may only submit one thread per character, but two characters can use the same thread. If you want to get caught and suffer consequences, or try to fight the monster, please use the "FIGHT OR FLIGHT" comment beneath the submission toplevel. Should the characters win the game, they will get a prize after all submissions have been accounted for!