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WELCOME
Good morning.
Or perhaps it might be more appropriate to say good evening instead, considering how it is moonlight that will rouse you into consciousness. And what a bright moon it is, half-full and clear without contest in the sky as it outshines the stars and galaxies in the backdrop. But it’s all the better to emphasize that the buildings that speckle the landscape before you are all completely devoid of any light. And by the way—do you always sleep outside?
The lack of light can be something to deal with later though, at least when you've properly gotten up from the cold, unyielding stone below you. And that chill down your spine—no doubt that probably has something to do with combination of cool temperatures and poor sleeping conditions, but it’s odd how it seems to linger.
Checking your person for any items that should be in your possession yields disappointing results, but it seems you're not empty handed (or pocketed) because you are now the proud owner of one (1) small bundle of black cloth. Unwrapping it reveals a key imprinted with a roman numeral, along with a simple note.
“Come at 6PM to the place circled on this map:”
“Don’t be tardy, dear Survivors, that’d be a bad first impression. If you don’t want your stay here to be more unpleasant than it’ll already be, you’ll want to avoid seeming careless or disrespectful. You’ll want to listen to my opening speech~!”
Finally, after an empty space that may be simulating an intense pause, there’s one last line:
“I know what you’re thinking, so I’ll say it straight: if you don’t come, you’re as good as dead.”
The news likely isn't welcome, but it's a start. And it seems you're not alone in your plight, though whether company is within arm's length or a stone’s throw away is up to fortune’s whims. For now, you're free to explore the town square and the surrounding areas as best you can in the dim light.
For some reason or another, Krakow, Poland is now your new home. That much is clear from the sign posts that you can inexplicably read, as red and white flag posts with "Święto Niepodległości" flutter lightly in the wind. While the storefronts are dark, the street lamps that scatter the town provide some measure of light, providing some solace against the layer of fog that's begun to creep in.
( OOC: Welcome to Antumbra! This intro log occurs ICly Sunday. Your MM's will be around at 6pm EST to hear your complaints. )
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Strange that only you were brought here, then.
[He's not entirely sure what to make of it just yet, but he doesn't like it.]
I was in the process of crushing some traitors and their army. They really couldn't have picked a worse time to drag me here.
[...that. sure is a way to describe what was going on, but okay.]
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[...look, just. Let him check out whatever is passing for our wardrobe here, because this whole thing is agitating him and oh god what is this outfit. It's dark and incredibly depressing and too simple for his tastes, why.]
What...is this.
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[Anyway, he tips his head a bit as Cumore checks out the wardrobe and then after a moment he moves over so he can see what's inside and... oh.]
...How dull.
[well now he just sounds personally offended.]
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[like, full offense, bro, you are good to bitch with but what are you wearing.]
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[he says, like it's a point of pride...]
They could have at least picked something a little less... [waves hand at it] that.
Though given how little effort they put into the room, I suppose I'm not surprised.
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[Cumore, no.]
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I hope so as well, at the very least to see what they have to say in response.
[this is hilarious??]
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[It's a bit too early to tell for sure just what they'll be like, which is frustrating.]
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Well... I suppose we'll see tonight, won't we.
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We certainly will.
[Anyway.]
It's been a pleasure, Cumore. [He rests a hand on his chest and ducks his head a bit; not quite a bow, but good enough for government work.] For now, I'll take my leave.
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[Yes, yes, go on.]