Fun with Twitter

Sarah Darkmagic - Posted on 16 May 2010

On Friday, I got the chance to do something really awesome. Chris Sims tweeted that he needed a break. I offered to amuse him. He took me up on it and what resulted was a bit of interactive fiction. I had a lot of fun with it and I loved the challenge of creating the story on the spot. With a little more development, it even might make a great solo adventure.

Me: You awake to the sound of water dripping into a shallow pool. As you shake the fog from your head, you hear footsteps approach. Looking around, you find yourself in a small room. The door looks sturdy and strong, with a small, barred window near the top. As the footsteps approach, you hear the jangle of keys. The steps lack a steady rhythm, in fact, you sense no rhythm at all.

(A brief aside)
Logan: Into view steps Crispin Glover, wearing a suit made of nothing but keys and Scotch tape.

Chris: Since I have crispinglovophobia, I have a heart attack.

Me: You notice that your arm is chained to the wall, but the chain is old and rusted. A good pull might free you from the stone.

Chris: Which arm?

Me: Your right arm.

Chris: So the pain in my left arm is possibly a heart attack, but possibly a buritto. pull the chain out of the wall. (Improvised weapon FTW!)

Me: With a hearty pull, you are able to free yourself from the wall. The steps get closer, close enough that you can hear the source stop every minute to gulp down more liquid.

Chris: Can I lift the burrito?

Me: Sure :-)

Me: From the way the hall echoes, you figure the source of the footsteps is about 15 feet from your door.

Chris: I hide.

Me: You quickly look around for somewhere, anywhere to hide. Seeing no obvious hiding spot, you press yourself against the wall on the hinged side of the door, steadying yourself as much as possible. As you get yourself set, you hear the breath of the guard and can smell the whiskey on his breath. He starts to try his keys, cursing under his breath, until he finds the right one and slowly opens the door, entering as he does so. He rests for a moment against the frame as he tries to spot you.

Chris: "Hey, drunkie, want this burrito?"

Me: "Huh? What?" In his druken stupor he moves further inward, and starts to lose his balance.

Chris: I hand him the burrito. "@countingku said this was for you."

Me: You take him by surprise and he takes the burrito from your hands. "Thank you, this is just what I needed." He sits down against the wall, and promptly falls asleep mid-bite.

Chris: I take the burrito and the whiskey, and the keys and his shoes. Then I scarper. But then I go back and take his wallet, too.

Me: Do you want his hooded cloak as well?

Chris: Hmmm. What does it smelll like? What color is it? Does it match his socks?

Me: Like his socks, it is a dark red. They comprise the uniform of the prison guard. It smells like lavender and used whiskey.

As you leave your cell, the hallway expands in both directions. You hear the sounds of someone quietly crying, from the direction the guard came. It's more of a whimper and a bit high pitched.

Chris: I yell, "Hey, keep it down!" as I put on the cloak.

Me: Your voice echoes down the hall. The crying stops, but a plaintive female voice answers back, "Who...who are you?"

Chris: "Don't you know me?"

Me: "You must be the newcomer, but you don't sound like you are in your cell. Have you escaped? Please, please help me."

Chris: "Newcomer, huh? Where are we?" I go toward the cell but look into any others I pass.

Me: From the quick glimpses you get, it appears the people in the other cells have their spirits broken. They actually turn away from the door as you pass. However, she is looking straight through the bars at you, her eyes full of hope. "We are in the prison of Ashkabar. I know not your offense, but mine was refusing to honor the king's son with my presence." One look at her even in her current state, gives you the full meaning of her words.

Chris: "That makes two of us, lady. Have you seen that guy? Sheesh! What say we get outta here?"

Me: "I would love nothing better. I know a way out. They don't like the lack of comforts here in the cells, so they...take me...."

Chris: "Wait, what? They what?" I unlock her cell door.

Me: "to another one, one with a window. We'll still need to make our way out from there, but it is easy to get to. The guards tend to leave it alone unless they are...visiting with a prisoner." You quickly find the key that unlocks her cell and the door opens. You notice that she is not chained.

She takes your right hand in hers, and closes her eyes. Lightly running her fingers over the wounds, you feel the pain recede.

Chris: "Hmmm. Thanks. Hungry? That's a burrito in my pocket."

Me: "I'm starving. But we must move quickly. This way, come quickly." She grabs your hand and leads you down the hall.

As you get closer to your destination, they decor changes. The stark stone walls now have decorations, tapestries and paintings. Alcoves dot the hallway, holding sculptures and other works of art. As you near a corner, you can hear two people approaching.

Chris: "Hey, take my cloak."

Me: She quickly takes the cloak, pulling the hood over her head. You can see the shadows of the approaching figures; their footsteps growing ever louder.

Chris: I pull down a large tapestry and hide us under it.

Me: The guards round the corner. You notice that the foot steps stop for a moment. Then a low chuckle replaces the silence. "Be sure the replace that before Prince Kagen sees and puts an end to our fun. The room is free, if you want it." The steps continue past you and slowly fade from hearing.

Chris: "We'd better hurry. They'll be back soon." I get up and go, then remember she has to lead.

Me: She takes you by the hand and you both run towards the room. She lightly knocks on the door, waits a moment, and then slips in. The room has a sturdy bed, with simple bedding. There is a window. You look out it and notice it's about 20 feet off the ground. A small ledge decorates the building and a thick tree limb is about five feet from the window.

Chris: What's lighting the room?

Me: Currently, it's moonlight streaming through the window. The moon is full, providing light yet still many shadows.

Chris: What's lighting the hall?

Me: Oil lamps line the hall. It appears that the oil was recently replenished for their wells are quite full.

Chris: I take one of the lamps.


Very entertaining read. I have to say that the idea of using Twitter as an ongoing campaign tool would be awesome. I'd love to try to incorporate more technology into a modern day game especially (I once set up email accounts for each of my player's characters and started sending them emails outside of game time - it was awesome).

I had no idea cyber with Chris Sims could be a blog post. I have to mine my chat logs. Curiously, the "burrito in my pocket" theme reoccurs quite a bit.

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