Chatterbox: Pudding's Place

The Black Letter

You don’t know where the letter came from.  You woke up one morning with a panicked feeling, like you’d just had a nightmare.  When you reached to turn on the light, you found a black envelope clutched in your fist.

The envelope was sealed with a wax stamp depicting a dripping candle.  You might take a moment to admire it, perhaps you tore around it carefully, or maybe you ripped it down the middle.  In the end, the result was only the opening of the envelope.  Like so many things, the way that you open an envelope will never matter.  The letter inside, however, did matter.  At, least to you, and perhaps to me.  But does that mean anything either?

You spread the now-wrinkled letter out and flatten the creases.  The letter is slightly discolored, embellished with ink drawings of candles of all shapes and sizes.  It reads:

Dear Distinguished Acquaintance,
You have been unavoidably invited to a twelve-night ball in the Candelabra Manor. In the height of antique luxury, you will enjoy fully stocked vintage wardrobes, six course nightly banquets, an array of games that will display the full extent of our three hundred and twenty-acre grounds, double bed gothic suites, and a fully stocked armory. You will find a trunk at your door in the morning.  You may bring this, and only this, as full as you please with it still closing.  Bear in mind that clothing will be provided.  It would be reasonable for you to enjoy your stay, but I will not go so far as to say that we “hope” that you will.
Apathetically Yours,
Madame Flambeau

The trunk appears as promised, with a skeleton key lying next to it.  Your first thought is to attempt to move the trunk inside, of course, but it stays put in the doorway and refuses to budge.  After a moment of deliberation, you decide to pack it where it is.  After all, who can pass up a luxury stay in an old, possibly murderous mansion?  Finally, when it is as full as you’d like it to be, you start to close it.  But then you remember one last little memento that you would like to bring with you.  Upon finding the trinket, you find something else much less desirable.  A form with the words “Candelabra Manor” and the candle seal emblazoned along the top.  But all of the information has been filled out with, as a quick scan reveals, complete and chilling accuracy in midnight blue ink.  

You stuff the letter in your pocket decisively and start unpacking the trunk.  You’re not going.  Oh no, no, no, no you’re not.  

But it’s too late.

Form:

Name:

Gender:

CBer or Æ:

Appearance:

Percieved Age:

Skills:

Worst fear(s):

Personality:

On a scale of one to ten, how much of a leader are you?:

On a scale of one to ten, will you crack under pressure?:

How did you open the letter?:

Trunk Packing List:

This is, what I believe to be, the first illustrated Ski Lodge. I hope you enjoy it.  You may bring up to two members of your party, CBer or Æ.