The Hourglass Sings 3/3
[This is the final part of my playthrough of The Hourglass Sings.
You can find part 1 here: https://daydreamingmoose.bearblog.dev/the-hourglass-sings-13/
You can find part 2 here: https://daydreamingmoose.bearblog.dev/the-hourglass-sings-23/
And you can find The Hourglass Sings here: https://a-smouldering-lighthouse.itch.io/hourglass
All art taken from The Hourglass Sings with grateful permission by Kurt Refling/A Smouldering Lighthouse]
[CYCLE 3]
[Seven of Clubs]
Some people throw coins into wells for luck. Others knock on wood, or spit three times over their shoulder. There's a whole slew of small and big superstitions focused around luck and avoiding misfortune.
In THE TOWN, there's something a little different, often done by children rather than adults. Down by the docks, the gaggle of children waiting for their friends returning from burying a treasure, wish each other good luck by doing a round dance, hooking into each other’s arms repeatedly. The big trick is to also exchange jackets or scarves while doing the little dance. For the kids, it's mostly for the fun of the game, but the tradition is old, going back to the idea that by the wild dance and repeated exchange of clothes, the bad luck won't be able to find you. Be that as it may, the dark robed person standing close by does keep away from the children.
[Jack of Spades]
Compared to earlier cycles, something has changed. The air has gotten heavier, more stale, but of course most people will never notice. But the herald of THE DARK does. They know what the reason for it is. It's all coming to a head soon. Everything escalates. With a flick of their wrist, the air around them becomes even heavier, sinks unseen to the floor. They grin a wicked grin beneath their hood while the heavy air floats slowly across the hallowed ground of the cemetery, towards a woman that looks just as old as the cemetery itself. The air envelopes the old Oracle, and at first, nothing happens. But then she starts talking to herself, lamenting how people these days have turned away from the old ways, embraced technology instead of keeping the worship alive. How traditions have faltered and been forgotten. And slowly, starting by her feet but unnoticed by the Oracle, she starts turning to stone. Turning into a statue, soon to be forgotten like all she had lamented, just minutes ago.
[Six of Spades]
Back in the ancient past the Oracle remembers from stories her grandmother told her, stories that were passed down by great-great-great parents and that were already old then, a youth is running through a forest, a spear with a stone tip in their hand.
It's their rite of adulthood, a hunt. Hunting would turn him into a man in the eyes of the tribe, and hunting would be his vocation ever after. That was what was decided by the oracles at his birth.
But he parts a bush in front of him, his weapon at the ready. He heard rustling on the other side. There's a small clearing, but instead of a worthy target, he sees a young woman with flaming red hair. The girl he had loved for a long time now. Whose heart he wanted to win.
In the arms of another.
[Queen of Clubs]
Centuries later, another youth is facing a challenge of his own. His name is Torres, and he's down by the water with his friends watching. They're a club, although the Sherrif would disagree and call them a gang of misfits. They're a wild bunch indeed, and Torres wants to be a part of it. He wants to belong, but he also wants to impress. Impress the haughty young girl with ebony skin standing among the crowd of onlookers, Maria.
Torres grips his surfboard tighter and runs out into the waves clashing against the beach.
Today is the day the big waves are supposed to come back and he easily jumps onto his surfboard - he has always been good in manipulating the air around him to carry his jumps where he wants them to go, as is his uncanny sense of balance.
[Two of Hearts]
Sitting in the darkness of the ritual caverns, the herald spits violently against one of the murals. It depicts the head of a tribe long gone, but the features of the chief have a stunning resemblance with the features of people living in THE TOWN right now. Descendants from a single conquering chieftain, a uniter of tribes, that has spread his seed far and wide. Who broke up with the herald, long, long ago. Years after the dalliance in the woods that fateful day, during the rite of adulthood.
[Queen of Spades]
An old man is talking to the young tribesmen who have just finished their rite of adulthood. He talks about the focus of the hunter. How nothing can be allowed to take away a hunters focus from their hunt.
He looks over to a certain other youth during his talk, again and again. None of the other young hunters pay him mind, they all know that he is the bad example.
The hunter who lost focus. Who didn't catch any prey before sundown.
The hunter who failed.
[Joker]
It is as if the ground erupts, but the earth doesn't open. Everyone stands still, as if turned to stone. Their eyes darting left and right, even up and down, looking for the origin of the piercing, heartrenching sound they've all heard at the same time. As if something unimaginably beautiful was destroyed at this instant and lamented with boundless violence at the same time. The ground doesn't shake, but it might as well. The scream goes on and on, and people are looking around concerned, still wondering if the earth will open up and swallow them whole.
[Ten of clubs]
Walking down the winding roads of the island, THE HERO is hurrying towards an old cave he remembers. He doesn't know if it still exists, if it can still be found. If it's open or has been closed by time.
But he, too, has heard the screaming agony.
He has immediately recognized it.
But suddenly, he is swept off of his feet, falling down into the dirt. He can't bleed, but if he could, the streets would run red with his blood.
The Sheriff has shot him in the back. Convinced that the strange man the fisherman has pulled out of the sea days ago is the reason for all the strange and dangerous things happening in THE TOWN lately.
THE HERO looks back, surprised. Remembering how well they have worked together just a cycle past, how he had reset a cycle when he last saw the Sheriff bleeding out on the street.
He swiftly gets up from the street, charges the Sheriff. But he doesn't hurt him. He disarms him, holds him without hurting him. He explains what has happened, what is still happening. How THE DARK is trying to end the world, strengthened by the agony of its herald. How he's trying to stop it.
The Sheriff looks confused at first, but finally understands.
THE HERO leaves him standing in the street, hanging another amulet around his neck, this time fashioned after a wolf's head.
[Nine of Clubs]
*Once again, the youth Torres is the centre of attention, although this time not down at the beach, but high up in the quarters of high society. While he hangs out with the street kids during the day, in reality he is the seventh son of a rich family of old blood. Nobles, once upon a time, though titles mean little to nothing nowadays.
Nevertheless, it is his duty to participate in the regular meeting of old noble families. A meeting meant to facilitate new connections as well as strengthen old ones, and therefore a myriad of young men and women alike are showing off their particular skills and magical abilities to the 'Ohhhs' and 'Ahhhhs' of the onlookers. Some doing illusionary tricks with cards and scarves, others literal magic, yet others show off pugilist talent or other physical abilities. Torres himself is showing off his preternatural balance by doing tightrope walks, his jumping skills. He makes it look easy, gaining more than one interested look from the young women in the audience.
But of course, his mind is only focused on his dark-skinned beauty.
[Two of Spades]
**Not far from the revelry in the upper quarters, another young woman sits in the street, shivering, emaciated, dark rings under her eyes. Even down here, she can see the lights up there, hear the laughter, shouts and merriment. She grinds her teeth, partly out of anger, partly from her stomach turning itself over in hunger.
Why was she born down here, and they up there? Why do they have fun, and food, and warmth, and she has nothing?
WHY?
IT SHOULD ALL BE HERS.
And again, she grinds her teeth, as a wave of pain wracks her body. She falls over from her sitting position, her body contorting in spasm as she changes.
As she slowly becomes even thinner, but also larger. As her skin turns translucent and she seems to disappear into the shadows.
A stalker in the night.
[Eight of Hearts]
THE HERO hurries into the darkness of the cave, high up in THE TOWN. With one hand holding a shielded lantern, and the other one of his guns, he walks among the murals he hasn't seen in a very, very long time. Some of these murals he remembers his elders painting, some of the scenes depicted he remembers participating in.
The fights of the dissolving tribes.
The unification of the West.
The conquest of the Others.
After failing his test as a hunter, he became a warrior. A less prestigious position at the time, but one that put him at the forefront of the wars to come.
And one that made him meet his love over, and over again, because she was the bride of the conqueror.
Back in the furthest end of the cave, there she is. Praying fervently at the shrine of the sun, her lips spewing words of hatred and despair, her face contorted in agony and anger. He puts down the lantern, sheaths his gun. Slowly he walks towards the kneeling woman, her hood thrown back and the red hair flowing freely. Suddenly she stands up, a large hunting knife ready in her hand, but when she sees THE HERO, all strength drains from her body, the knife clattering to the floor. Now she knew who had been working against her all this time. These times.
An old friend, back from the dead like she did. Somebody who remembers what has happened to her.
Somebody who understands her pain, intimately. Somebody to embrace her and squeeze her tightly. Somebody to sit with her and whisper quietly about all that has happened.
And a long time they sit together in the dark, until the woman nods solemnly and THE HERO takes out his harmonica and plays the melancholic melody a final time. One last time, time moves back, slowly.
But this time, neither the herald appears back at the docks near the children playing, nor does the old fisherman rescue a lost soul from the depths of the sea.
[Thank you for reading my playthrough of The Hourglass Sings! I had a lot of fun with it, and no idea where any of this would go before starting. Looking back, I might or should have paid closer attention to staying true to the descriptions of the three actors and introduced more NPCs for THE TOWN, as well as make more use of the masks. I still have 12 cards left in the deck, So I might have done a bit more, but the story felt like it came to a natural climax and when I drew that last card, I decided it would be more than fitting to actual end it right then and there.
Overall, I can absolutely recommend the game to everyone interested, I think it does a very good job of telling a coherent story, even if you go in blind and unplanned as I did. But I also think it might work a deal better with three people playing it (that is probably the best player count), so as to have more creativity and agency on all three characters of the game.]