A gust of wind greets you when you open the entrance to your abode. You... don’t remember leaving open a window. It’ a bit too chilly for that. But there are no foreign scents, and, after a quick look-over, nothing appears to have been stolen, either, so it must have been a moment of forgetfulness, yes?
Or... perhaps not.
There’s a large scrap of paper taped to the sill of the open window (...how? It’s not that close to the ground…), covered in chicken-scratch scrawl that you need to squint at for several long moments to decipher. Eventually, you manage it, though you wonder what the City has devolved into, that organized groups of random strangers think that they can just… leave notes lying around like this.
If you’re reading this, dear potential customer, you sure are a lucky duck! What you hold in your tender paws is your ticket to a bazaar for the bizarre, a hotbed of -- you know what? I’ll let you see for yourself.
But we’re not letting anyone in. We’re exclusive. So there’s a password, see? But you’ve got to earn it.
How’s your puzzlework?
[I am a pirate’s mistress; we, the seven sisters. The sailor’s greatest love and his only home. Tell me -- what is my name?]
[Ripples and riptides; the royals roar, ‘Refute renegades & runaways’ With reason and recognition, find relief. Respite. Rest. Rise.]
[I am the beginning of everything, the end of time and space, the start of every end, and the end of every place. What am I?]
[A simple solution from a snake, Symbolism in the shape.]
[Find me at the center of two crossing paths Lovers meet for a kiss before parting once again]
When you think you’ve got them all... take a walk outside the City. I’ll know. I’ll find you.
We’ll chat then, perhaps.
This doesn’t seem sketchy.
(Is that... a stain on the note? Was someone eating while they wrote this?)
Black Market Introduction
The note seemed simply the product of a bored mind with an uncanny ability to scale windows, but it seems others have already access this proclaimed "bazaar" -- or, as the whispers are calling it: a black market, run by more cloaked figures than you can shake a stick at.
They're jealous about guarding their wares, though -- they move around, they watch for anyone trying to betray their presence, and... they don't seem to discriminate between cats and dogs.
When you believe you have the answers to all five riddles, please note AlphaWe with them!
This is NOT a mandatory event. Participation will be its own reward, though art or writing produced for the event will earn 750 merits.
The password will not reset until April, so anyone who gains access will keep it until then.