A young man on a grey stallion gallops up toward the mansion from out of nowhere in particular, then abruptly reigns in his horse as he realizes that he is not where he was a moment before. His cloak and saddlecloth as lately as that morning used to be red, and the device is probably a bear, but it's hard to be certain through the mud. The ( Read more... )

A slight dark-haired young man opens the front door of the mansion. He closes it behind him and takes a few steps forward, hand reaching out to touch a wall that isn't there. Thinking that he's just taken a wrong step, he moves backward to the door, expecting to feel something familiar, but the pattern is different, even the grain of the wood is ( Read more... )

When sprites are bored, Things Happen. So now, whenever anyone walks through certain doors of the mansion, they'll turn into an animal. Duration and type of animal are up to the typist, but chances are it'll last for at least couple days.

A canonically and rather inexcusably handsome man in courtly, semi-scottish garb enters the mansion, ready for yet another awkward and undesirable encounter with proper etiquette. Bowing rather stiffly, more due to fatigue than dedication to propriety, he began ( Read more... )

A young girl enters. She is short, like most of the people in her time, and very pretty. You might put her age at about sixteen. She curtsies.

"Hello. I am Lady Luneta of Orkney. My cousin Ywain has gotten us lost. Do you know the way to Camelot from here?"

Typist: Luneta, from The Lioness and Her Knight, taken from the beginning of the book, ( Read more... )

As some of you might have known (or felt), Thom's been working on something for the past few months. To be precise, this 'something' involved opening a portal from the Mansion to Tortall's Immortal Realms, because Thom thought it would be quite interesting to study these immortals. In any case, a bit of the spell went wrong, and now there's a ( Read more... )

The last thing the Vicomte remembered was dropping through the trap door behind the set piece. Perhaps he'd hit his head on the way down, for this was certainly not where he meant to be. He kept his pistol high, taking careful steps in order to further explore his whereabouts.

Typist: Raoul, from Gaston Leroux's Phantom of the Opera. Reset and ( Read more... )

He rides out of a fog bank, looking confused and concerned. His mount, a lively grey stallion bred in the African deserts, dances under him, startled by the unusual sounds and smells. The rider, a young Roman Celt wearing his lord's device of the Bear, pats his horse's neck reassuringly and turns to check on the sturdy little chestnut pony that ( Read more... )