A New Morning.

[Kristi is prescribed skeletons]

Vincent woke with the sunrise shining through his eyelids. He felt this uncertain dread. Whatever the source was, he wasn't going back to sleep with the chickens making their early morning hullabaloo. As he slowly got up, the near-omnipresent aroma of biscuits baking and eggs frying filled his nostrils.

"Vincent! Lucas! Get out of bed. It's canning day. Your mother's going to need all the help she can get."

Ah, that would be the source of Vincent's dread. It was a bit stuffy in his and Lucas' room, but the cool, dew soaked world outside and chill in the air was so many times more preferable to the oncoming sweltering summer afternoon helping Ma.

Later at the kitchen table Vincent was stopped while enjoying his breakfast by the worrisome look on Lucas' face. Vincent knew his brother, and he could tell it wasn't any ordinary youthful surliness. This was serious.

Outside, Vincent was tending to the horses when a sudden voice made him jump.

Lucas -
"Hey, can we talk?"

Lucas walked into the barn, looking back and forth as if paranoid.

((Player instructions: You're playing only as Vincent for a short while. He has no memory of the prior events. Sebastian ))

[Kristi is prescribed skeletons]

((Etc. indeed.))

Lucas -
"Do you know anybody that's ever gone out of town that came back?"

Strangely enough, he doesn't. Every friend and member of the family Vincent had in his life always lived in the village. Memories of familiar faces flashed across his mind, but something felt missing.

[Kristi is prescribed skeletons]

A voice calling from the porch interrupted that line of thought.

Father -
"Mrs. Mortensen needs your help loading before heading to market."

Lucas hesitated, shifted his weight to his other foot, and flashed Vincent an uncertain glance before leaving with him to give their neighbor a hand.

Mrs. Mortensen -
"Good morning, boys. Thank you so much for this. If you don't mind, could you come inside quick."

Lucas shrugged and followed.

[Kristi is prescribed skeletons]

The boys were led to a kitchen with a book of parchment, ink pot, and fountain pen on the table, ready for use. Mrs. Mortensen, with brow sternly lowered, put a finger warningly to her lips. She took the pen and hurriedly scratched something down. Once she finished she stepped aside so that Vincent and Lucas could read.

He is listening to us!

[Kristi is prescribed skeletons]

Mrs. Mortensen took back the pen.

Unfortunately, much of what I have to tell you will be unbelievable. Please only understand when I tell you leaving would be a mistake. Several people have passed the border, but they never returned. A young mother and her two daughters, a general store owner, and a book binder- all gone.

Vincent abruptly recalled seeing the dolls in the dusty, abandoned town, and the haze began to lift. A flash of terror shone in his eyes. Lucas knew exactly what his brother was remembering and gave him a sympathetic squeeze of the shoulder.

[Kristi is prescribed skeletons]

Mrs. Mortensen's eyes grew wide as a shadow stretched across her home. She scribbled something quickly.

I beg that you stay silent. You've gotten his attention now, child. Act natural. I'll try to explain once we're safe.

After several awkward minutes loading crates, the sun came out again, cheerful as ever. Mrs. Mortensen waved the twins back into the kitchen, nodded, and began to write on a new page. In her hand that pen flew, only stopping to visit the ink pot when dry.

In the past years of national poverty, at least one person was oblivious to the struggles of the modern man. This person's name was Sam Flank. He was always more concerned with maintaining meticulously the paint on his home that was so trendy a few decades ago, his yard, and keeping occupied with many hobbies, than the troubles the real world was facing.

Old Sam contributed to the town in his own way. He would put on puppet shows that were never anything but loved by the children of Lewan Village. At the ends of the shows the audience would have to put the puppets back to sleep with the right words, but his final show was interrupted by a sudden storm.

At the respectable age of ninety-one, Sam Flank passed before every doll went back to sleep. That is how we learned what happens when one of Sam's puppets becomes lonely.

Mrs. Mortensen paused, sighed, then resumed scribbling.

You would never believe it if you weren't here now, but this is all that thing's doing. As we villagers were seeing what was happening we inevitably fought back, but anybody that tried to harm the puppet disappeared without a trace.

[Kristi is prescribed skeletons]

Mrs. Mortensen looked sad for a moment before resuming with the pen.

If we have all been sucked into this town- nothing. We go on with our lives. However, if somebody is still outside we could try contacting them through writing. The chances of our messages reaching them are slim, but using a phone (Somebody else's, that is. We don't have one here.) would be too risky.

[Kristi is prescribed skeletons]

Lucas had been standing back and letting Vincent do the writing. They had the same questions, anyhow.

Lucas - "We don't know anybody's phone number. For that matter, we don't even know if anybody else was transported, or if they'd recognize us if they did..." He said, finally adding his own two cents, but stopped mid-way. That line of thought unearthed more memories.

Lucas - "I have an idea. Um, can you pass me the parchment?"

Send A Text Message:

To:

Lucas wrote down every number combination he could remember having relation to the other kids in the group, even if it seemed like a long shot.

Is anyone there?

Send

After an uncomfortable minute staring at a blank page, letters began to appear on their own:

OH MY GOD where are you?

(( Sebastian - PCs halt activity until further instructions are given.))