The Fall of the House of Atreus

By Xole Karman

The great gothic mansion of the Dukes of Mycenae sits, pervaded by a sense of insufferable gloom, in a bleak landscape of sedge, Autumn-scarred trees, and black unruffled lake.

It is a house much accustomed to death. It is said that the walls weep blood, and the cries of murdered innocents echo in the halls. It is whispered that the gods have cursed the family—from founder Tantalus, to the current generation, Atreus' sons Agamemnon and Menelaus.

Under oppressively low clouds, the mansion is bedecked for a ball to celebrate the triumphant return of Duke Agamemnon from ten years of war. But the smiles of those who supposedly welcome him home seem slightly forced…

The Duchy has a long history of bloody family feuds. The war put them on hold. With the return of the Duke and his entourage, will the old hatreds boil up again? Or can the House of Atreus avoid its inevitable self-destruction?

An Unshelled Turtle Production, by Xole Karman, for twelve characters from Homer and Euripides, re-imagined as Victorian nobility by way of Edgar Allan Poe. Costuming (and overacting) strongly encouraged.

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By Cassandra Williams, Jenny Mason and David James

The Amaranthine Solar Eclipse. The one day every 300 years, gentle reader, when the entire supernatural set can emerge from their (rather well appointed) strongholds without the inconvenience of hellacious compromise. Even vampire hive Queens, by their nature permanently ensconced in their deliciously fashionable residences, may step beyond the safety of their own thresholds without fear for this one day.

In celebration of Tsar Alexander II’s recent interest in following the British example of integrating supernaturals into society, HRM Queen Victoria has decreed a unique afternoon’s entertainment for the London Ton. The movers and shakers of London’s supernatural high society have all been invited, and such an invitation brooks no refusal (even if one were so astonishingly gauche as to contemplate such a thing)

A fête for the city’s most eminent Werewolves, Vampires, Ghosts, Scientists and visiting Russian aristocrats.
Nothing could possibly go wrong…

*Guests are kindly advised to be sure to consult your official 1874 Abnormality Roster for London and its Greater Environs prior to attending. Copies of the roster can be obtained through the Bureau of Unnatural Registry (BUR) department of the British Government, head offices located on Fleet Street.

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Star Trek: Justice & Loss

By David Hollingworth

The Dominion War - two years of conflict on a scale never before seen by the galaxy. Dozens of worlds laid waste, countless resources sacrificed, and billions of sentient beings killed.

But - surely - some good can come from all that suffering?

Aboard the starship USS Sovereign, the powers of three quadrants gather. The Federation has called for a new accord, one that binds all warp-capable civilisations under a single agreement. An accord that seeks to enshrine the conventions of interstellar conflict, to articulate war crimes against those conventions, and to lay down the punishment for overstepping those boundaries.

Some have come to support the Federation’s lofty aims, others just to be a part of this historical meeting. Yet more come to twist the accord to suit their own purposes, and some so that their own sins may be overlooked, or forgotten. And there are those pitiful few who have borne the brunt of the recent fighting, who now look for help in rebuilding their shattered homes.

Do you come to make a better future... Or to pervert it?

A 30 player Star Trek freeform about loss, justice, and building a better galactic community, by David Hollingworth. Set after the end of the Deep Space Nine television show. Costuming highly encouraged.

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Dr Morph regrets to inform you that this weather event will not be making land fall

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The Emperor Wants a Wife

By Ben Dawson

In the grim darkness of the 41st Millenium there are only fairy-tale endings..?

Across ageless stars and distances beyond reckoning, the invitation has reached you:

Dear Primarch, relevant email delegate, or small inorganic eyeball-servant,

The Emperor of All-Mankind, Blessings be Upon Him, has decreed that there will be a new Crusade against that evilest of enemies: Chaos.

Like, the entire concept.

As the position of Warmaster is currently empty - and the Emperor will be too busy recording his latest album to go on this Crusade – his Imperial Coolness wishes to have a gathering of his children to decide on a new Warmaster. Obviously, this title will come with some impressive bragging rights, some sweet bling, and the right to rain pure destruction down upon the Emperor's enemies.

As a Primarch, a 'child' of the Emperor, you have been invited to this gathering. You will mingle, socialise, and resolve the various issues that undoubtedly exist between yourself and other beings of incomparable physical and mental power. I am sure that nothing can possibly go wrong.

The Emperor will also be taking time out of his busy schedule to look for a spouse. That is right: the perpetual bachelor and Living God is now dropping one of these titles - and the Primarchs who attend this party stand to gain! Imagine the power! Imagine the possibilities! Imagine the honeymoon (standing in the ashes of the Emperor's enemies)!

This will be a grand opportunity to establish both your love and loyalty for the Emperor; to chat with friends and frenemies; to claim power and titles and riches; and, perhaps, to find the most elusive treasure of all: Love, while broadcast live throughout the entire Imperium.

I look forward to your response,
Kronk-Aide.

PS: Please do not throw off the Emperor's Groove. I've only just got the blood out of the carpet from last time.
PPS: The last time was three decades ago.

Swords are being sharpened, bolters are being loaded and hair is being permed. Tense anticipation hangs like a knife throughout the galaxy.
As with any such invitation, questions are raised: What is the nature of this new threat? Who will lead the assembled legions? Why is this invitation on pink paper with a floral border? Is that cologne? Ohmigod do you think he likes me?
I mean, I know he likes me, but do you think he, like, “likes me” likes me?

You think of your friends. You think of your enemies. You think of that one weird girl that no-one talks to.

Scores will be settled. Rivalries will be sparked. Gazes will be lingered. Dances will be shared.

There will be charm and whimsy and bolters.
There will be love and dances and psykers.
There will be happy endings and endings most foul.
There will be mirrors on the walls:
And you will be the fairest of them all…

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Truth or Dare

By Fi McConachie

The trial is over and the jury has begun its deliberation. The eyes of the country now focus on the twelve men and women randomly chosen to decide the fate of the defendants.

Or was it more than mere chance which brought them here and now to this place?

We think we know the story of those standing trial but what about the others who’s live have been touched by this event? What about the twelve who have been brought together by chance and asked to be impartial?

What do you desire? What will you give? Do you stand strong or give in?

For them is this task asked of them by the state a duty, a chore, or something more?

I need you to do this for me…..

Only time will tell

A game for 12 seemingly ordinary men and women caught up in an extraordinary circumstance while fighting their own battles. Where the questions asked will be more important than the result. This game has been inspired in part by The Jury, To Kill a Mockingbird, The Lost Honour of Katarina Blum, Ghost in the Shell and Evil Angels

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Red Sisters, Black Skies:

By Andrew Watson

It is April 1945 and Berlin will soon fall to the Red Army. The fight against the fascist wolves is bloody, desperate and uncertain. But the airwomen of the 588th Night Bomber Regiment have other things to think about.

They’re making sure their planes keep running, that their friends (or lovers) are safe from both German flak and the perils of life on an airbase. Most of all, they’re trying to find something to keep them going.

It’s not easy to fly every night over enemy lines. There’s too many farewells and regrets. Too many dead friends and not enough good news. To fight despair with hope and make it through each day, they need to repair relationships and planes, confront the ghosts of the past, and find a place in their fragile sisterhood.

For these women, war is more than the constant bombing runs. It’s about their relationships with the other women on base, making hard decisions, and coming home safely. It’s also about a birthday, and being a part of a community.

Inspired by the Night Witches RPG, Red Sisters, Black Skies is an 18-player freeform by Andrew Watson following three nights in the fraught lives of a squadron of Night Witches.

Costuming is encouraged but not compulsory. Although no men feature as characters, players of all genders are enthusiastically welcome.

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