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A̷ ̵D̴a̵r̷k̷ ̶R̴o o m̷ { o p e n }

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Caffeine Freak

Two Thousand Club
the fire is dead.

the room is freezing.



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Magic is dead.

The war killed it, froze it in time. What remains of it flickers into nothing. Now all that's left is the forest, little more than a memorial to the life that once thrived on the planet's surface. The sun above - merely a dying flame, and the world is slowly plunging into one eternal night. You're all that's left of what was once called civilization, but you're not alone. The last chapter of the world has brought fourth hordes of living nightmares, born from the festering fallout of the war, and nurtured in the cold womb of the forest.

This is how the end begins. You find yourself sprawled out on a cold concrete floor, surrounded by strangers. Whatever memories you retain come in scraps, and trying to recall anything else results in little more than a headache. The outside world, while inhospitable to all but its denizens, yields relics of time that will be invaluable to your survival. Will you and your unorthodox allies uncover the mystery forgotten by the war, and scrape together a life in hell itself? Or will your struggles end in vain, and simply add only to the whispers left behind by a dying world?

--
Welcome to A Dark Room! If you haven't guessed already, the RP is inspired from the game of the same name, but retains only the base concept, so no knowledge of the game is required to participate. Dice elements will be used for combat, in which you're free to create your own attacks, and their effectiveness will be assessed by a roll from the GM. Characters can be any humanoid race of your choosing, though keep in mind that any magical abilities your character may have will be severely limited without the use of in-RP items.

While character death will be an element in this RP, it will be determined by decision making instead of simply occurring because of consecutively poor dice rolls.

From the moment your character awakes within, or stumbles across the Dark Room - they will be constantly met with choices that can influence the world, or decide their own fates. Choose wisely.

G͏́oo̶͞d͢͡͏ ̢l̨u͠c͟k̨͠.͢͏

 
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it's cold.

the floor is cold. the air is cold. everything's cold.

where you are, exactly, isn't clear. you don't remember coming here, yet the only thing you can remember is being here.

the crackling embers of a dying fire barely illuminate the interior of the room you've found yourself in. it's a little blurry, but you can still make things out. unpainted concrete walls. a lone doorway. silhouettes of others scattered around the fire. it seems you're not alone.

at some point you decide to move from your place on the ground. getting up is a lot more difficult than it should be.

the cold is unbearable at this point. it's evident that if nothing is done to warm up, you may just go back to sleep and never wake up again.

various assortments of twigs and dry branches litter the floor.




Your character has just awoken in the Dark Room! At this point, they'll be exhausted for no reason within memory, and on the brink of hypothermia. In order to survive, they'll need to perform an action.

Actions are simple - when choices are available in a GM's post, just describe your character carrying out their chosen action and, for reference, put the chosen action in bold/underlined in the top of your post like so:

John Doe - The Dark Room
Stoke Fire


John Doe drops a nearby scatter of twigs onto the fire

You're free to format it however you want, as long as it's obvious which action your character has chosen. Choices don't matter too much now, but can have lethal consequences later on.

Available Choices: (hover mouse)
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[/class][div class=2]>Stoke Fire[/div]
Grimsvald Grimsvald Reo7 Reo7
 
Leon Vrainia - The Dark Room
Stoke Fire

It was without hesitation that Leon began to crawl on his arms towards the dying burning glow. Dragging his already weakened body along the cold dirty floor while breaking the many small branches of wood that were beneath him. His thoughts of both confusion, terror, and questions were promptly put aside as he focused his efforts on reaching the warm flames. Nothing else had mattered to him. The luxury of time wasn't in the cards. It was pointless to assess his current position or ask who the others were. Every moment and strength he had left counted. Death's door had begun to knock. And the cloaked man was slowly opening the door.

With every small distance he covered, the sounds of grunting and heavy breathing could be heard from him. Small cuts and bruises started to show on his arms and legs from scraping the floor, further weakening him from reaching the fire. His mind and vision started to blur again as the fear of failure overtook him. Desperate was beginning to settle in. And while he was only a few feet away, to him it seemed like miles. Eventually he made his way to the fireplace, his hand waiving closely over the flame. The initial feeling of warmth gave him enough strength to move a bit more. Struggling to sit up straight, Leon got up to watch as the fire was on its last embers. Again without hesitation, Leon quickly looked back to see the crumbled up branches of sticks behind him and continued to collect as many as he could. Once done so, he hastily threw it into the fire attempting to keeping it alive as long as possible. He dearly hoped that the fire would engulf the new fuel, praying that it wouldn't die out completely once and for all.

Caffeine Freak Caffeine Freak Grimsvald Grimsvald
 
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A heap of stone and steel churns with a groan in the dark. The gentle sound of cracking frost and grinding iron haunts the creatures rise. When the hulking form pulls its self up from the sea of shadows a dull light illuminates it’s worst features, the horrified faces of half frozen corpses skewered on blood rusted spikes. The beast drags up from the depths on knuckle and knee to thaw by the fire.

Ruk crawls across the dark room like a crippled ape, scraping together the broken twigs it passes along it’s way. The mind inside this beast questions what brought it here. It questions the identity of the bodies on its barbs and why it felt so compelled to protect them. Regardless of this mental void Ruk urges forward to feed the flames and preserve itself.
 
the embers of the fire sputter, but slowly begin to engulf the tinder.

soon enough, the embers become a slow-dancing flame.

the room is warm.

it's easier to see now. frostnip begins to wear off.

there's a stranger in the room with you. they don't seem in any better shape than you are, and also appear to be stoking the fire.

perhaps it's worth saying something.




The room is now a hospitable place for all characters! It's night in the forest outside, and too cold to explore until your character has had a chance to recover.

Now is probably a good time to bring up HP and how it works.

[Leon - 50HP]
[Ruk - 50HP]

Each character starts with 50HP, a capacity that can be increased later on with items that can be found in the world. Some dice events like encounters can drain HP, which I'll go into detail on later. For now, just know that spending too long in the forest can cost HP, and that all HP is replenished upon returning to the dark room. I'll manage the numbers.

Anyway, now you've been given an opportunity to interact with eachother. More actions will come soon.

Grimsvald Grimsvald Reo7 Reo7
 
Once the warmth set into it’s stones Ruk realised that others sat around the flame. At first the creature may seem dismissive of their presence, but truly it was content in watching the waving flames and letting its corpses thaw. The subtle heat losens the creature’s iron rings and softens the flesh draped over its back. The relief was so great it pushed a low groan from Ruk’s chest.

The mind inside the beast felt suspicion’s seed burrow deep down to its core. The suspicion was showed in the fear of those around him. From this well watered seed tension grew like wild flowers on Ruk’s expression. The hollow eyed gaze of the golem swiveled back and forth between those at the fire until it chose to nip the problem in the bud.

“Ruk is kind.” The golem said with a hand on his chest. Conversation would be the shears to cut this bud of tension before it bloomed.
 

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