|Game 3||Game 3 Outline|
As you push the doors open, your suprised to see activity going on in it. A lot of activity in fact. Not from people, but from a number of small objects flying around the room. As you focus in on them, you can see that their kitchen utensils, apparently moving of their own free will, knives chopping vegtables, bowls filled with sauces mixing on their own. The room looks to be the kitchen of the castle, a cauldron on the fire place bubbling as the utensils mix in meats, spices and other things on their own accord.
"Let's see, now," You here a voice say, and spot a figure at the other end of the kitchen in front of a large book. "A pinch of paprika, to tea spoons of salt, a dash of lemongrass..." As these things are listed off, you see the ingrediants being floated over on invisible strings and being added to the mix. You look at the figure and see it looks to be a woman dressed in a black dress with her tawny brown hair tied up in a bun. She doesn't look to be too old, but you get the feeling she is somewhat middle aged. You then notice that you can see right through her.
As you remeber the history saying something about the witches ghost haunting the castle, you think it might be a good idea to make a strategic retreat for the moment, and begin backing your bulk away from the door. Unfortunatly, the woman turns and spots you. "Oh, look, a visitor, perfect timing!" She says cheerfully. Suddenly she is right in front of you, her movement inbetween a blur like someone had hit a fast forward button. "Do come in," she says, grasping you bloated wrist with a transparent hand and pulling with an otherworldly strength, "Whoa wait a minut...OMPH!" you begin, but are interupted as she pulls you through the door, where your bloated midsection wedges into the doorframe and forces the air out of you. Unhindered however, the ghost pulls as if not noticing, and you feel as if your being squeezed through a pasta mold into a noodle as you are forced through an opening you would by no means fit through on your own. You pop free and stumble to the floor, being half dragged across the floor before you are released.
You roll onto your feet and strain to lift yourself, sure you've been bruised by the treatment, "You almost pulled my arm off." you say, checking to make sure you hadn't left any part of you behind. "Sorry about that, don't know my own strengh half the time," she says unconcerned, "Now..." You hear the sound of wood on stone, behind you, but are unable to turn before a chair rockets into the back of your legs and forces you to fall back into it. Your sure you hear a bit of splintering, but are not able to process much as you find yourself propelled across the room in front of the fireplace, stopping so suddenly you frame is sent into a mass of waves for a goop half minute before settling. "Tell me how this tastes," she says, a ladle lifting out of the pot and floating over to you, filled with what smells like some sort of stew. You take the ladle, but hesitate, unsure of wither it's safe to eat. Then again, the woman is probably strong enough to tear you apart if you don't eat it, and do you really want to offend her?
Written by Spots
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