Okay, here it is!
Part 2: Welcome
The amphitheatre was one of the monuments to ArmorCity's history, being not only one of the most ancient buildings but also the earliest, having occupied that very place within the walls since even before the Great Reshuffle. It had borne witness to many a public performance and drama, the scene of frequent double-bookings, and even now it was active as ever, arguably central to all those who had working eyes or ears (or both, as would imaginably be the case for most citizens of AG). It was for this reason that the administration had decided to hold the inaugural ceremony of the Way of Moderation Trials here.
Thus is was not without a certain sense of awe that each and every citizen and hopeful that passed through its grand arches, crowds filing into the semi-circular rows of stone, looking down upon the hallowed stage upon which epic awesome had been, and was to be enacted.
The rising hubbub echoed down stone walls and passageways, down into the basement and through the backstage, where the moderators were performing their stage checks. Rumor had it that Queen Carlie herself would make an appearance on the stage. Flipski had tightened his security settings to the maximum (Strop had his doubts as to whether this was actually desirable). Zophia had what she called "a special surprise" prepared, to be accompanied by some of Ubertuna's self-styled 'masterpiece'. Dank, satisfied his wiring job was complete, leapt from the backstage scaffolding, landing on the ground with a mighty crash, turning on his heel, his armour clanking as he disappeared once more into the darkness, giving but a single brief nod to another shadowy figure in passing.
But Strop barely noticed, for he was busy briefing the to-be-official officiator of the event.
"Now Cenere, this is probably not the best time to be asking, but...you don't suffer from stage fright do you?"
"... I think I need you to define 'Stage fright'..." Cenere was slightly pale. Just slightly.
Strop scratched his head, "Well, you're not going to, you know. Freak out and fluff up, or pee your pants, or vomit...it's only a few..." Strop peeked through a crack in the curtains, "...thousand people out there."
"Wonderful..." Cenere took a deep breath, pushing the glasses back on place. "Just like ASC judging, just with your words, and a lot of people. No problem."
Strop clapped his hands together, oblivious to Cenere's tone: "Yes, precisely! That's the spirit. Now...just in case you forget...I've written your lines out on these cards..." Strop fumbled in some indeterminate location within his ninja suit, and produced some palm-sized cards with scrawl on it. "Please excuse my do- I mean ninja handwriting. Should be legible though."
"Hmm..." Cenere seemed rather nervous, and didn't even look at the card. "Tell me again, why I agreed on this instead of staying home and ignoring it..." It wasn't so much a question as speaking to himself.
"Aw come on." A bandaged hand squeezed Cenere's shoulder, shaking him about like a ragdoll. "It'll be great fun! Now-" Strop steamrolled on, "here's how it'll go. Once everybody is seated, Zophia and Ubertuna have a special introduction planned. Then Carlie will speak, then I'll speak and introduce you. When I call you out, you come out from the side, okay? Cenere? You listening? 'coz I can't remember what I just said."
"... Zophia has a special intro planned, Carlie speaks, you speak and introduce me, I get out from the side, and read from the cards, and then I can leave again. Right?"
Strop blinked confusedly for a moment, then lit up. "Yes! That's precisely right! I mean NO!" Strop shook his head: "You gotta stay around for registration! You know, just a little bit of paperwork...shouldn't take too long." Strop trailed off, inaudibly mumbling, "Maybe only about six hours or so..."
"Sounds great." Sarcasm was plenty evident in the young man's tone. More deep breaths. "Does it have to be this warm around here...what does Zophia have in mind? And why me..."
"Because you're special. Oops, here we go!" Strop danced off to the side of the stage, craning his neck around the curtain to catch a glimpse of Zophia's and Ubertuna's handiwork.
The hubbub rose a notch in intensity as restlessness swept in waves through the crowd, impatience mounting. Suddenly, a massive explosion resounded through the amphitheatre, and a few screams echoed around. These were drowned out, however, by wondrous sighs at the dazzling lights shooting high into the sky, crackling all the way. Before they even faded, more explosions rocked the stands and lights of all colours flashed, drawing sparkling patterns in the air. Then from all corners of the amphitheatre, the music began, loud, booming and triumphant, swelling and overwhelming. The crowd gasped again, for now a dragon out of light wove its way through the audience, spiralling up as the music rose higher and higher still until with it disappeared with the biggest explosion of all and the music cut out, leaving the audience seemingly blinded and deafened from the sudden silence.
As the remnants of the fireworks fizzled and the smoke settled, sight and hearing slowly returned to the members of the audience. The first thing they saw was the figure in the poufy dress and tiara, standing on the stage as if she had been there the whole time. So stunned was the audience, several seconds passed before they spontaneously erupted into roars and applause.
"It's Queen Carlie!" was the universal cry. Queen Carlie smiled self-effacingly, curtsying and giving her subjects a regal wave before taking the microphone magically floating in front of her. On cue, the crowd fell silent.
"Hello, and welcome!" was as far as she got before the crowd started hooting and stomping again. Carlie raised her hand and the crowd silenced again, though still buzzed with an edgy energy.
"Welcome to the inauguration ceremony of the Way of Moderation Trial!" While most of the audience was left scratching their heads at the big words, Carlie continued. "Thank you for coming to this historic event. I must also extend a special thank you to Moderator Zophia, who arranged the fireworks display, and Moderator Ubertuna, who wrote the music, and Moderator Dank, who provided the technical expertise. Wasn't that a wonderful show?"
The audience rose as one in ovation. Behind the heavy stage curtain, Ubertuna positively tingled with delight. "Oh, glorious, glorious accolades!"
Carlie's face changed, and the crowd was immediately silenced. "What you are about to witness," she intoned, "Is an unprecedented development in the history of ArmorGames! We have heard your calls for a more objective manner in which we assess candidates for the role of Moderation. The Way of Moderation Trial heralds a new era in which this is made possible. To explain to you the process, I now introduce to you the one and only ninja horse of ArmorGames, Moderator Strop!"
Amidst the resounding cheers, Strop could not contain the celebrity vibes from getting to his head. He burst through the middle of the curtain, leaping into the air and flipping end on end before landing next to Carlie in a deep bow, milking the crowd's reaction for all it was worth. Carlie returned the gesture, then hitched her skirts and walked back offstage. Strop stood up, surveying the crowd as the noise dwindled. Then he held up his hands and the noise stopped altogether.
"Yes, it is I." Strop nodded emphatically, drawing a few laughs from the audience. He dropped his stiff posture and started pacing along the stage. "You may be wondering what this Way of Moderation is. Many of you here have asked me, personally, how one becomes a moderator, and I have simply told you that you must follow the Way of Moderation. But do any of you know what it means?"
Strop stopped and turned his gaze back to the front. "This is what we shall test! We shall test your determination, your mettle, your aptitude and your nature all! To see if you can follow the Way of Moderation! A series of trials you will face, and only one of you, should you choose to participate, will pass. So I ask, who among you is up to the task? Any of you at all?"
There was a hushed muttering as the members of the crowd conversed amongst themselves, possibly speculating more on how much coffee Strop really had before taking the stage.
"But enough of that, we shall reveal the stages to you as they come. For instructions on what to do next, however!" Strop held up his finger. "I shall introduce you to our independent observer and judge of this contest. Many of you will already know him from his previous judging roles, including the illustrious Art Skills Contest, as well as the maintainer of the Announcements Board in the News Tower! I hardly think I need introduce him any further, so here he is, Cenere!"
Once again the crowd roared, but nobody appeared on stage. Strop blinked a moment, then tapped his hoof. "I said...Cenere!"
There was an awkward pause, then Cenere shuffled on, blushing and adjusting his pants. "Can't give me even a second here?"
Strop turned, then strode to the back of the stage, slapping Cenere on the back as he passed. "Mic's all yours, Cen."
Cen gagged, then shot Strop a dirty look before shuffling his papers and clearing his throat. "Ahem." Cenere squinted at the pages. "Before I begin, there is something Strop wishes me to tell you." Cenere squinted at the pages again, before reddening and turning to look at Strop. "No."
The crowd blinked uniformly, now looking at Strop, who was doubled over in laughter. "Please, Cen...please go on..."
Cen sighed, "As usual, why me..." before shuffling his papers again and reading: "The purpose of this inauguration ceremony is to register for the Way of Moderation Tournament. Today is the one and only time it will be done, so if you wish to join, you must do so immediately after the end of the ceremony. You should form a single line up to the stage, and I will endeavour to process all your forms as soon as possible. With that, I bid you all a good day and...Strop, what do you mean 'I'?"
The members of the audience were already rising and scrambling towards the stage, jostling madly to try and gain the first spot. Cenere repeated his question. "Strop, what's this?"
Strop looked sidewards shiftily. "What's what?"
"It says 'I will endeavour.' Why not 'We?'"
"Uhm. I have things to do. And this is...your duty!" Strop started edging away.
Cenere barely resisted the temptation to reach for Strop's neck and give him a few good shakes. "What do you mean! Do you realise how many people there are in the queue!"
Strop was now at least halfway across the stage and not even facing Cenere, but this didn't stop him from throwing over his shoulder, "Don't worry, it'll only take a few hours!" before disappearing through the grand arch of the Amphitheatre.
While they had been talking, Dank had dragged a table and a stool in the stage, before walking off. "All yours" he curtly said before stumping off.
"Wait, wait, come back here you-" Veins pulsated on Cenere's head and he rubbed it. He had a headache, he still had stomach cramps from the stage fright, his cheeks were still burning from the prank Strop had played on him, and now this. He gazed dolefully at the line of impatient users, then at the forms. There had to be at least two hundred users there, and three forms each- one for their personal details, another for their curriculum vitae, and an extra large one for "indemnity purposes".
There would be words when he was done.
---
Now that the story is done, I'll give you the task!
The first thing you need to do is make sure you remember the correct procedure. Read it: HERE
Task: There are two parts to this task. They are both quick and easy so I expect them to be done in a timely fashion.
The first part is the fill out the registration form. There are a number of simple questions you must answer- and answer them all! ...I'm serious, if you don't answer every single question, you won't be allowed to progress.
1) If you were an emote...
2) Vanilla or chocolate?
3) What is your shoe size?
4) How would you get the cake?
5) If you could go back in time and punch somebody's lights out, what would your witty one-liner be?
6) At what temperature do you wash your underwear?
7) Finally: it's over 9000!?
It looks silly, but a little voice in the back of your head tells you that this form is far more important than it first appears...
The second part: select a setting within ArmorCity (see
map) to face your first trial, and describe what your character is doing there. There are a few rules.
1) You do not know what the first trial is, or when it will happen. 2) Your character will be in the setting you chose for the trial, but is unaware of this fact.
3) You will not be communicating with any of the other moderators nor victestants of the trial, either player or non-player, for this segment.
4) I will not be allowing anybody to submit until I've got this introduction finished. Don't worry, the submission deadline itself is flexible. The draft, less so.
Draft Deadline: Saturday 22nd AugustAnd as usual, there are perks (and penalties):
1)
Cenere Disapproves: This will go to the worst (as decided by Cenere) filled-out survey slip.
2)
Just How Did You Get There Omg Hax: The one who picks the most inaccessible location (decided by me) may get more than they bargained for!
Also, as usual, don't forget to check your email for any
special, unique instructions for you.
