Forums → Art, Music, and Writing → The Way of Moderation has ended (page 566)
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wasn't that song that tuna sung from the mighty boosh?
Well done! Old Gregg has scarred the minds of the moderation team forever and evermore. CANNOT UNSEE D:
Okay, here's the next section.
Strop had a sneaking suspicion that people were staring at him. But he had more pressing things to attend to. He wasn't sure what they were, but he was pretty sure he'd remember once he reached home. That was all that was on his mind: sawing at the surprisingly well-crafted rope took half a day, and finding his bearings and walking back to Armor City took another half, so naturally he was feeling pretty crappy. Seeing as Strop couldn't move his head, he wouldn't have been able to reach his room up on the top of the highest tower of Armor Castle, if it weren't for the rope ladder somebody very kindly left dangling from his window. After whatever trip he had last night, he desperately needed to freshen up, and there was no better place for that than in the privacy of his own ensuite bathroom.
As predicted, the tap was running thanks to the recent heavy rains, so Strop started splashing water over his face. That was when he felt something hard and plastic attached to his forehead. And that was when he looked up into the mirror.
Elsewhere in ArmorGames, the tournament victestants, those nefarious folk, heard Strop's earth-shattering scream. And they probably giggled.
Strop bolted out of the bathroom for no reason in particular other than chucking a total spazz. But he did see a fancy envelope placed in the "IN" tray on his workdesk, with one of those fancy wax seals bearing the logo of ArmorGames. Tearing it in half, Strop shook out the note within and read it aloud:
"To the User Strop,
This letter is to notify you that a formal complaint was lodged against you by another user. You are hereby under investigation for the attempted murder of Chill, by the method of releasing an arrow at his person.
A search warrant of your residence has been issued. At some point you will be contacted for an interview. Attempts to leave the land of ArmorGames will result in a warrant for your arrest.
We will update you on the results of our investigations.
Sincerely,
The ArmorGames Secret Police."
Strop scratched his head. He shot Chill? With a bow and arrow? But that couldn't be possible, after all, he-
On a sudden impulse, Strop rushed over to the weapons rack. His bow and quiver was missing.
Strop sank to his knees. Surely he could not have broken his oath!? That sacred oath for which his bow had specifically been carved for, the embodiment of his way of life... yet if he could not remember what happened, he could not say for sure what he had or had not done. And what was this about a secret police? Surely the SHOPS squad hadn't reformed without his knowledge? Or maybe this was one of those hokey user-based groups that liked to throw their weight around, or maybe this was one of those secret secret admin-level groups that investigated abuse of moderator power. After all, moderators were only enforcers of the law, and goodness knew how many violations Strop had committed in the past few... well, rather, moderators weren't supposed to be above the law. Yes.
If only he could ask Carlie, but Carlie was absent.
Then again, why not take it from the horses' mouth? Not his, of course, but Chill and the rest of the victestants. After all, he had to get on with the next round, and he had to decide who was going to continue into the final stages of the tournament.
First things first, though. He had to get rid of the horn and the dye. And trim himself even, despite the fact he'd been growing his winter coat out specifically for the coming winter.
Darn those pranksters. He swore he would get to the bottom of this.
Alright, here it is!
---
Interview with the Strop
The door opened into a small concrete room. The only light in the room was the sunlight that peeked through the barred window near the ceiling, opposite the door. This was the storage room of the library, to be precise, but it was still kinda scary.
"Please, take a seat."
The silhouette obscured by the dusty glare gestured to the seat on the opposite side of the wooden table. If one squinted hard enough, they would recognise the pointy equine ears and presume that the one sitting opposite them was Strop, seeing as Strop was the one who issued the summons, but still, one couldn't quite be sure. But one thing was for sure- whoever sat opposite allegedly-Strop was half blinded by the glare, whereas Strop could see every expression, every facial twitch and flicker they made.
"This is an interview to determine whether you'll be going ahead in the Way of Moderation tournament. I have just a few questions to ask you."
And so the interrogation began.
Your Task:
The interviews are conducted one on one, in private. Cen (being away) isn't here to officiate, so take that how you will. I will email you a list of questions you need to answer, and you can then write how the interview progresses from there.
Deadline: TBA
Some ground rules:
1) You MUST answer the questions I give you.
2) The questions should preferably go in the order I give them, but if you have good reason to break this order, feel free to do so.
3) You may add additional questions at any point if you like.
4) Try to write Strop in character. Note that he is going to be brooding, probing and suspicious.
5) NOBODY knows what order they've been called in, and from the time of the summons to the interview, nobody has spoken to each other, so you're all on your own unless you've made arrangements beforehand. Note that this is your perfect opportunity to confuse Strop with conflicting alibis.
6) This interview WILL contribute to whether your character will continue in the tournament proper or not. I strongly encourage you to think whether your character is better suited to the tournament, or has their own plotline to follow.
Any questions? Ask them below! If not, HAVE AT IT!