View topic - [PUZZLE/SOLVED(finally)] Closet Faeries

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Forum index » Archive » Archive: General » ARG: Rookery Tower

[PUZZLE/SOLVED(finally)] Closet Faeries

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Muskie
Boot

Joined: 02 Oct 2004
Posts: 55
Location: Australia

[PUZZLE/SOLVED(finally)] Closet Faeries

From Layla:

Spoiler (Rollover to View):

From: Layla Hardesty ( laylasweetieSPLATgmail.com )

like gold and precious stones,
is chiefly prized because of its rarity.

TM, Again, Insults our intelligence.

This is part of a Mark Twain Poem, Entitled:

Spoiler (Rollover to View):

Genius

Genius, like gold and precious stones,
is chiefly prized because of its rarity.

Geniuses are people who dash of weird, wild,
incomprehensible poems with astonishing facility,
and get booming drunk and sleep in the gutter.

Genius elevates its possessor to ineffable spheres
far above the vulgar world and fills his soul
with regal contempt for the gross and sordid things of earth.

It is probably on account of this
that people who have genius
do not pay their board, as a general thing.

Geniuses are very singular.

If you see a young man who has frowsy hair
and distraught look, and affects eccentricity in dress,
you may set him down for a genius.

If he sings about the degeneracy of a world
which courts vulgar opulence
and neglects brains,
he is undoubtedly a genius.

If he is too proud to accept assistance,
and spurns it with a lordly air
at the very same time
that he knows he can't make a living to save his life,
he is most certainly a genius.

If he hangs on and sticks to poetry,
notwithstanding sawing wood comes handier to him,
he is a true genius.

If he throws away every opportunity in life
and crushes the affection and the patience of his friends
and then protests in sickly rhymes of his hard lot,
and finally persists,
in spite of the sound advice of persons who have got sense
but not any genius,
persists in going up some infamous back alley
dying in rags and dirt,
he is beyond all question a genius.

But above all things,
to deftly throw the incoherent ravings of insanity into verse
and then rush off and get booming drunk,
is the surest of all the different signs
of genius.

Mark Twain

Also, the Image on Morgan's Site was changed to http://webzoom.freewebs.com/morganparanormal/shredded.JPG then changed AGAIN, same filename.

Muskie

Posted: Tue May 24, 2005 8:00 pm
Last edited by Muskie on Tue May 24, 2005 8:22 pm; edited 1 time in total

Muskie
Boot

Joined: 02 Oct 2004
Posts: 55
Location: Australia

The Dots were arranged in groups, Creating:

Spoiler (Rollover to View):

1 3 5 3 1 1 1 1 1 3 2 1 2 2 2 1 1 1

Which decoded into Binary, giving:

Spoiler (Rollover to View):

01110000011101010111001001100101

Which Decodes into our codeword,

Spoiler (Rollover to View):

pure

So, off we go!

Spoiler (Rollover to View):

www.freewebs.com/morganparanormal.pure.htm

Gives:

Spoiler (Rollover to View):

A picture of a Padded Cell (http://webzoom.freewebs.com/morganparanormal/PaddedCell.JPG and
"Richard was sent to the Asylum, and for a while things at Rookery Tower were quiet. Eric took over his aging father's business affairs, and Richard mumbled to himself in a padded cell."

Checking The Source Code Revealed:

Spoiler (Rollover to View):

The keeper of thinsg you wish to hide,
fear the thing that lurks inside
skeletons and useless keys
what conceals all of these?

I Solved this one all by myself! mwahaha!

Leading to:

Spoiler (Rollover to View):

www.freewebs.com/morganparanormal/closet.htm

And the Next Part of the Story.

Spoiler (Rollover to View):

I don't know if Xazlael meant for the 'prank' to go the way it did or not. But Charles was dead. His tumbled down the long stone stairway had landed him just wrong, and broken his neck.

I was in history class when the news came, A whisper from one teacher to another. And then they told us. Charles Evans had had an accident.

That was no surprise. After all, my dear companion had told me that he wouldn't be an issue. But the way they hung their heads so gravely. Sure� surely there wasn't something terribly wrong. But then they said the words, and Charles was gone for good..

I started shaking. I couldn't stop. They had excused us all from class, and many of my classmates seemed dazed as well, but I felt like all eyes were on me. They felt hot and accusing. I don't know if it was my imagination, or if they really suspected I was somehow to blame. How could they blame me? I'd been in class! But I started to think of being tried for murder anyway.

As all the other slunk back to our dormitory, I snaked off into a disused room, hardly larger than a broom closet. It was off the main hall, and hardly anyone ever came near it, let alone entered. It was where I hid, when I needed to be alone.

Except that I was never alone. No sooner had I shut the door when my constant companion materialized.

I regarded him with a caution that I hadn't in a long time. "Yid dou?"

It was a trusting question and one he never fully answered. He put on of his long, thin hands on my should and said gravely. "Charles Evans had an accident, my boy. He fell down the stairs. It wasn't your fault."

I believed him. How could I not believe him? Xazlael was my only friend. My own brother didn't care for me as much as he did.

"I wish he dadn't hied," I whispered.

"There, there, my boy," he purred. "Everyone dies. It wasn't your fault."

He kept telling me that, over and over again he whispered it. Of course it wasn't my fault. How could it be my fault, I was in class,

He looked at me with concern. "You're still upset," he said, "Here, let me show you something you'll like."

The dark haired man withdrew from his breast pocket a small pipe that he sometimes played. It made a high, sweet tone as he put it to his lips. The tune was soft, and enchanting, and as he played the walls of the closet melted away, and I was in another place altogether; a wooded glade, with the moon peaking between branches, and fireflies darting here and there. It seemed to me that Xazlael had stolen me away to the fairies' place.

I listened, rapt, as somehow he began to sing as he played.

Fair lady Isabel sits in her bower sewing, Aye as the gowans grow gay There she heard an elf-knight blawing his horn. The first morning in May 'If I had yon horn that I hear blawing, And yon elf-knight to sleep in my bosom.' This maiden had scarcely these words spoken, Till in at her window the elf-knight has luppen. 'It's a very strange matter, fair maiden,' said he, 'I canna blaw my horn but ye call on me.

And

Spoiler (Rollover to View):

http://webzoom.freewebs.com/morganparanormal/faeeve.jpg

Which we're trying to Desteg.

Posted: Tue May 24, 2005 8:22 pm

Hikari
Veteran

Joined: 09 Apr 2005
Posts: 147

Next round!

Spoiler (Rollover to View):

http://www.freewebs.com/morganparanormal/elf-knight.htm

Very Happy

We're only missing where "innocent" goes.

Also, Layla's blog updated.

Spoiler (Rollover to View):

the bolded letters spell out elltericIhIssmIm, which is "tell erIc I mIss hIm"

Posted: Tue May 24, 2005 10:11 pm

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