Said the Tortoise to the Dormouse
A darkened mirror. A hole in the wall of your attic that wasn’t there when you fell asleep. The well, deep in the forest, that seems far deeper than it should be.
There are many entrances to this place, but only you can provide the exit.
This is a place of reflections. The ever-shifting landscape roils and reacts to your innermost desires and fears, giving form to all the dark secrets you hold close to your heart. Your heart is laid bare upon the endless horizons. There is something strangely mental, reactive, and primal about this place. Something is immensely wrong, or at the very least, so very curious.
Some have thought it wonderous, but they are rare indeed, filled with such childlike innocence and wonder that this land could react in no other way. To most, this land is a shifting plane of madness, full of barely-familiar shapes, prowled by monstrous regret and guilt.
Welcome to Wonderland.
Keep your head.
Said the Tortoise is on hiatus. However, as there are still the transcripts of three or four sessions not posted to the site, by the time everything is on here, play will probably have resumed.