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Квест для гильдий

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<img src="https://upforme.ru/uploads/0019/3c/8c/3/26908.png" width="20%"> ГИЛЬДИЯ  DOUBLE D’S <img src="https://upforme.ru/uploads/0019/3c/8c/3/26908.png" width="20%"> <br> <br>

<p style="color: red; font-size: 24px;"> <b> 🕳 КВЕСТ ЛОКАЦИИ: ПОДВАЛ- любая комната </b></p>

<p style="font-size: 19px;"> <b> <i>❤«Сердце Дома, Которое Лучше Не Слышать»❤ <br>
5-дневное испытание для тех, кто не боится спуститься ниже тишины. <br>
“Наверху Дом думает. <br>
На первом этаже — живёт. <br>
Но в Подвале он чувствует.” <br>
Подвал — самое древнее пространство Дома. <br>
Здесь нет времени, нет календарей, нет привычных звуков. <br>
Но есть пульс, который редко удаётся услышать. <br>
Говорят, что когда Дом становится слишком тихим,Подвал начинает говорить за него. Сегодня он открыл Порог Сердца. <br>
</i></b> </p>

<p style="font-size: 19px;"> <b>🗝 Ваша миссия проста: </b> <br>
✔ исследовать комнаты подвала <br>
✔ из списка, выпадающего после прохождения, сделать скрин наиболее подходящего под задание предмета <br>
✔ написать историю или легенду <br>
Форма написания свободная — романтика, юмор, драма, мистика. Главное — творчество! <br>
✔ Публикуем ответы  до 23:59 каждого дня (время Московское) <br>
Истории могут быть любыми — главное, чтобы были творческими. </p></b> <br>
<p style="color: blue; font-size: 19px;"> Задание  (5 дней): </p>

<p style="font-size: 19px;"> <b> 🕳 ДЕНЬ 1 — «Ступень, Которая Скрипнула Невовремя» </b> <br>
📌 Спустись в Подвал. <br>
Найди предмет в любой комнате подвала- ступень, камень, плиту — которая выглядит старше остальных. <br>
Дом всегда начинает разговор со старых следов. <br>
📌 📸 Скрин любого предмета после прохождения комнаты <br>
🪶 Подпись: Почему этот предмет помнит больше, чем должен? <br>
<br>

<b> 🕳 ДЕНЬ 2 — «Предмет, Которого Не Должно Быть» </b> <br>
📌 В Подвале хранятся забытые вещи, но иногда там оказывается то, что не могло туда попасть. <br>
Найди странный предмет в любой комнате подвала: неуместный по размеру, по цвету, по эпохе, по смыслу. <br>
📌 📸 Скрин. <br>
🪶 Легенда: Как этот предмет мог оказаться здесь? <br> <br>

<b> 🕳 ДЕНЬ 3 — «Шепчущая Стена» </b> <br>
📌 В Подвале стены древнее самого Дома. <br>
Они говорят трещинами, пятнами, линиями, которые трудно объяснить. <br>
Найди предмет в любой комнате подвала, который выглядит «живым»: влажным, пульсирующим, будто дышащим. <br>
📌 📸 Скрин. <br>
🪶 История:Что этот предмет мог рассказать, если бы умел говорить словами? <br> <br>

<b> 🕳 ДЕНЬ 4 — «Холод, Что Смотрит» </b> <br>
📌 Там, где в Подвале меняется температура,обычно прячется то, что Дом не может выгнать наружу. <br>
Найди предмет, от которого  холод ощущается даже на экране: тень, угол, полоса света, непонятная тьма. <br>
📌 📸 Скрин. <br>
🪶 Подпись: Кто или что «смотрит» на тебя из этого холода? <br> <br>

<b> 🕳 ДЕНЬ 5 — «Порог Сердца» </b> <br>
Финал <br>
📌 Осмотрись в глубине Подвала. <br>
Есть места и предметы, где линии пола сходятся,где тени расходятся не туда, куда должен падать свет. Это — Порог Сердца Дома. <br>
Его нельзя найти логикой. Только ощущением. <br>
📌 📸 Скрин этого предмета. <br>
🪶 Легенда: Что слышит Дом своим Сердцем — и почему позволил услышать это тебе? </p> <br>

<p style="font-size: 19px;"><b> 💫 Подсчёт результатов: </b> <br>
Один пост участника гильдии в день (скрин предмета, выпавшего в списке после прохождения комнаты + короткий текст) - это один балл <br>
Оценивается атмосферность, оригинальность, командная идея. <br>
В конце все очки суммируются, и побеждает гильдия, набравшая наибольшее количество. <br> </p>
<p style="color: blue; font-size: 19px;"> Обязательное условие, в сообщении со скриншотом писать название своей гильдии! </p>
<p style="font-size: 19px;"> <b> 🎁 Призы: </b> <br>
🍬 За участие (скриншот с подписью), каждый день — 1 коллекция с полезными предметами <br>
🏆 Каждый участник гильдии-победителя получит 5 коллекций на выбор и Великую шишку </p>
<p style="font-size: 20px;"> <b> 🕰 Сроки проведения: </b> <br>
📅 С 1 по 5 февраля  включительно <br>
(с полуночи до полуночи, по московскому времени) </b> </p>

<p style="color: green; font-size: 19px;"> <b> Администратор Тигра 🐯 </b></p> </div>

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<p>Попыток может быть несколько, но приз за участие выдается только один раз за период одного соревнования </p>

<p>Не забудьте , указать френдкод и уровень, чтобы можно было подарить подарки.</p>

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+9

771

Guild Quest Day 5. The Hearth of Memories
Guild: Double D's
https://i.imgur.com/huVyoOym.png

DAY 5 - "The Hearth of Memories"
Finale

The next morning when I got to the kitchen I just had a odd sensation that something was now different...new perhaps, but definitely a little odd. Then I saw it - a Magic Mirror on the wall.

The magic mirror hung near the stove, its surface clouded as it had seen things it could not unsee. When the Kitchen grew quiet, the mirror warmed, pulling in reflections—steam from the milk, silver light from the shaker, cocoa-dark shadows from the chocolates, flour dust drifting like snow. Everything gathered there.

When I looked into it, Dom appeared—not as a person, but as a moment. Laughing too loud. Stirring too slow. Making hot chocolate at midnight because someone needed comfort and didn't know how to ask. The mirror remembered the first time the House became a refuge instead of just walls. And in that moment Dom, or the Manor, I don't know which exactly, sent me the recipe for Perfect Comforting Hot Chocolate and the certain knowledge that the best hot chocolate is never just cocoa. Its resentment shaken loose, patience reheated gently, sweetness that refuses to run out, and work done by steady hands—mixed together and warm served, preferably with sarcasm. I stepped back and thought of my friends Julie, Laura, Tara, and LaLa! And, as if on que, guess who must have heard me stumble down the hall to the kitchen and in that moment walked in to see what mischief I was getting into!

🔥 CONCLUSION – The Most Wonderful Hot Chocolate

The shaker finally stopped shaking once it was filled with cocoa, milk, chocolate, and just a pinch of mandrake flour (don't ask—trust the House). The mirror unfogged approvingly. The Kitchen exhaled.

The hot chocolate tasted like memory, warmth, and victory. And we sat for hours drinking the most delicious hot chocolate (than never got cold)talking about saving multiple universes, this house and a multitude of strange and wonderful beings that all reside here because of this House.

The House laughed. And somewhere, a kettle applauded.

+2

772

Guild: Double D’s

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DAY 5 — “The Hearth of Memories”
The final day in the kitchen had arrived, and the Mystical Box on the mantel had become the heart of it all. In its heavy, wooden chest, all the forgotten moments, the faint whispers, and the tender touches had gathered. The box was no ordinary chest—it was a keeper of memories, one that could never be opened without releasing all the warmth and chaos of the kitchen.
Within it, the aromas of long-lost meals and the faint sounds of laughter could be heard. It wasn’t the past or the future that the box held—it was everything that had ever touched the kitchen. The scent of fresh-baked bread, the sharp tang of vinegar, and the sweet spice of cinnamon, all tangled together like a beautiful, chaotic symphony of the Manor’s soul. The kitchen wasn’t just a place—it was a living being, and the Mystical Box was the secret core where every taste, smell, and moment had taken root.

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LBB 

39e8b4

+2

773

Guild Double D’s

Day 5: The Hearth of Memories

Final day, and the kitchen pulsed like it knew the punchline to its own joke. Everything converged—smells swirling, shadows playing tag, warmth hugging like an overbearing aunt. I scanned the chaos, zeroing in on a magic mirror hanging crookedly, reflecting not just my skeptical face but a kaleidoscope of colors and steamy whispers. It gathered all the quest’s vibes into one shiny focal point, the secret core where memories marinated. What story did Dom remember with this item? Ah, Dom—the house’s ghostly chef—recalled the epic tale of the Great Pie Fiasco of ‘89, where a rogue pumpkin enchanted the flour, leading to pies that danced off plates and milk that turned to cream on command. The mirror shimmered with snarky flashbacks, Dom’s laughter echoing like a boiling kettle.
I stared into it, and suddenly, the pieces clicked like a recipe from a fever dream. The sharp chef’s knife trembled eagerly beside the spicy magic pumpkin, the warm porcelain container of milk steamed in solidarity, and the ancient sack of mandrake flour whispered ancient baking secrets. “Fine, you win,” I grumbled, rolling up my sleeves. The mirror reflected my reluctant grin as I grabbed the knife to carve the pumpkin—its spicy guts spilling out like confetti at a bad party. Mixed with the mandrake flour (which, surprise, wasn’t poisonous but perfectly pie-worthy), the milk whipped into a creamy filling, and into the oven it went. The kitchen sighed contentedly, as if saying, “Took you long enough, smartass.”

In the end, this quest wasn’t about haunted kitchens or living appliances; it was a sneaky setup for the ultimate comfort food. As the pumpkin pie cooled, golden and aromatic, the house’s memories baked right in—snarky, warm, and a tad magical. I sliced a piece, the knife finally at peace, and bit in: perfection with a side of triumph. Who knew tasting history could be this deliciously ridiculous? The hearth dimmed, quest complete, leaving me with a full belly and zero regrets—well, maybe one: why didn’t I add whipped cream?

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LaLa a3d26b

+3

774

Day 5: The Hearth of Memories

As the fifth day unfolded, Elara entered the Kitchen with a sense of culmination, the air heavy with the culmination of scents and shadows from her previous finds. The room pulsed with an otherworldly glow, drawing her to the very center where the hearth flickered eternally. There, atop the mantel, she discovered a glowing bag of magic salt, its crystals radiating a soft, ethereal light that captured the essence of all the Kitchen’s elements—steam, spices, recipes, and lively utensils—in a single, shimmering pouch.

This bag held the story that Dom, the ancient guardian spirit of the House, remembered with profound clarity: a tale of a great famine long ago, when he had sprinkled this salt to awaken the land’s bounty, turning barren fields into feasts that saved his people. It evoked the unbreakable bond between sustenance and soul, reminding Dom—and now Elara—of how flavors could heal wounds and preserve legacies across time. Inspired by this memory, Elara decided to honor the House by bringing the ancient recipe card to life, but with a clever twist—substituting the elusive kraken, impossible to find in these modern days, with tender calamari from the nearby seas, enhanced by the magic salt’s glow to infuse it with mythical tenderness and oceanic depth.

In the finale of her quest, Elara gathered all her discoveries around the hearth: the trembling platinum chopsticks, the warm container of bird milk, the set of spices from around the world, the ancient recipe card for kraken sushi (now adapted), and the glowing bag of magic salt. With these treasures, she crafted the delicious sushi rolls, blending the bird milk into a creamy dipping sauce, dusting with worldly spices for exotic flair, and using the chopsticks to savor each bite. The House came fully alive, its walls echoing with laughter and songs from eras past as the flavors danced on her tongue, proving that even impossible ingredients could be reimagined through memory and magic. Elara emerged transformed, carrying the Hearth of Memories in her heart, forever bound to the enchantment that showed taste remembers more than people ever could, and that true feasts adapt to the tides of time. And so, the Kitchen slumbered once more, its secrets savory and satisfied, awaiting the next seeker to stir its wonders.

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Tara 🇺🇸 031cde
Guild: Double D’s

+2

775

День пятый Гильдия « От чайников до…» Какая кухня без теплого очага, это как человек без души! И какая кухня без хлеба, такого душистого, с хрустящей корочкой! Домик помнил тот первый хлеб, который был испечён в этом очаге,  и добрые руки кухарки Эмилии, когда она угощала всех домочадцев и не забыла положить кусочек ему под порог. Кто-то скажет, что это неправильно, что нельзя так поступать, но там ( под порогом) жило семейство ежей. Они охраняли домик от коварных мышей, недобрых змей и просто были такие милые. Так рассказывал Домик эту историю всем кухонным принадлежностям, когда уже они устали ругаться и выяснять, кто же тут главный. —У каждого своё место и каждый нужен ( тихо говорил он). А если кто-нибудь ещё раз попытается устроить спор- попрошу Василия утащить этот предмет и закопать на дне морском!https://i4.imageban.ru/out/2026/01/31/201f86b18dfc66a5c5154fb2b75d617f.png

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788aef

+2

776

Maryam 5b79b2
Level 467
Guild  🇷🇺Desperado🇷🇺

https://i2.imageban.ru/out/2026/01/31/0a11cb9c75648a33505592bab7e0a728.png

Day 5
Dom knew today was his last chance to rescue his wife. He desperately searched around for an object that would guide him. It occurred to him that perhaps the talking spoon they had found on the first day might help him. He found the spoon and pleaded with it for a clue, some guidance, anything. The spoon seemed to considered its answer and finally said: Look for an object of magic, an eye. It contains all the smells, all the sounds, all the traces of the people that passed through this kitchen and then, think of how you can use everything else you found in this kitchen.”
Dom searched everywhere, drawers, cabinets, nooks and crannies until ….., he finally found it! The nocturnal eye. That must be it! He looked deeply into the eye and remembered having seen it before in the fortune telling room. He recalled a story of how a powerful magician had created an eye that could hold prisoners inside, innocent people as payment for magical services rendered to their loved ones.
Dom gathered all the weird objects together, the nocturnal eye, the dagger with the face that reminded him of his wife, the steaming jar, …. . He showed the eye the dagger and yelled “Give her back to me”, then he stabbed the eye. A wisp of steam started rising from it. The steam from the jar mixed with it and suddenly ….., a shape started forming, clearer and clearer. Finally, a dazzled, confused woman walked out of it. Dom embraced his wife. He had succeeded. All was well.

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Maryam 5b79b2

+3

777

]https://upforme.ru/uploads/0019/3c/8c/7217/t305821.png
день 5
гильдия Ёжик в тумане

Золотое яблоко как-то подарила Спящая красавица на новоселье Домика. Она была первой прибывшей гостьей, и подарок, соответственно, тоже был первым. Поэтому его поместили на кухне в коллекцию Необычные продукты, и стали считать очагом кухни. Яблочко каталось по тарелочке и тихим голосом делилось воспоминаниями с Кухней, они могли часами болтать, вспоминая прошлое.[/url]Яблоко любило свой Домик, свою Кухню, своих домочадцев, оно согревало их своим золотым сиянием и защищало данной ему силой. Так в Кухне появился говорящий амулет- хранитель.

Отредактировано Тигра (2026-01-31 21:13:52)

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Даже тигры любят игры!
Ррррррр! 🐅

f1ec22

+3

778

Guild: Double D’s

THE HEART OF THE HOUSE A Five-Day Story

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DAY 1 — "The Step That Creaked at the Wrong Time"
Tara didn't mean to find the basement door. The five friends had rented the Manor for their annual reunion weekend, and she was looking for the library when the hallway seemed to shift, revealing a door she'd never seen before.
The Green Dresden lay on the top step, gleaming like it had been waiting centuries just for her.
When she picked it up, it was warm. And in its faceted surface, she saw not her reflection, but a memory that wasn't hers: a woman in an old-fashioned dress, running down these same stairs, clutching this same stone, whispering "I choose love."
But what struck Tara was the feeling—not romantic love, but something deeper. The love of belonging. Of being known.
Tara slipped the gem into her pocket and returned to the living room where her four best friends were arguing over board game rules. She looked at each of them—Julie's competitive grin, John's terrible poker face, Laura's quiet smile, Lala's chaotic energy—and understood something the Manor had been trying to tell her: this was her chosen family.
She pulled them aside. "I found something strange," she whispered. "The Manor wants to show us something."

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D8ab2f

+4

779

Guild: Double D’s

THE HEART OF THE HOUSE A Five-Day Story

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DAY 1 — "The Step That Creaked at the Wrong Time"
Tara didn't mean to find the basement door. The five friends had rented the Manor for their annual reunion weekend, and she was running from something she'd seen in the mirror—a face that wasn't hers, staring back with hollow eyes.
The Green Dresden lay on the top step, but it wasn't gleaming. It was pulsing, sickly green, like something infected.
When she picked it up, it was cold as a corpse. And in its faceted surface, she didn't see a memory—she saw a warning: a woman in an old-fashioned dress, running down these same stairs, clutching this same stone, screaming "It wants us all! It won't let us leave!"
The woman's face twisted, decayed, became a skull still shrieking silently.
Tara dropped the stone and ran, but when she reached the top of the stairs, the door had vanished. Just wall. Solid wall where the door had been seconds before.
When she finally found her way back to the living room—through hallways that kept changing—her friends were still playing board games, oblivious. But now Tara could see something behind each of them. Shadows that moved wrong. That breathed.
"We need to leave," she whispered. "Now."
But when they went to the front door, it wouldn't open. None of the doors would open.
The Manor had locked them in.

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LBB 

39e8b4

+4

780

Day 1: "The Step That Creaked at the Wrong Time"

I couldn't believe we've rented this creepy old Victorian house for our holiday getaway—me, Tara, dragging my best friends Julie, John, Laura, and Lala into what I pitched as a “cozy escape” in the countryside. No cell service, just us, some wine, and zero distractions. But that first night, after we'd polished off a bottle or two, I led the charge down to the basement because, why not? "Guys, this place is begging for an adventure," I said, my voice echoing as we descended the rickety stairs.

The air hit me like a musty hug from a forgotten aunt, and John tripped on the first step, cursing as it creaked dramatically. That's when I spotted the stone heart slabs— these ancient, heart-shaped stones in the floor, etched with veins that looked almost alive, older than anything else down there.

“Why does this object remember more than it should?" Laura asked in her best spooky whisper, her phone light bouncing off the slabs. I knelt down, tracing one with my finger, and Julie poked it like it might bite. "Because it's hoarding all the house's drama, like my diary from high school," Lala quipped, and I shot John a look when he rolled his eyes—typical skeptic. But as we stared, I swear those slabs hummed, replaying echoes of old heartbreaks that made my skin crawl. "Okay, floor's got attitude," I muttered, and we all laughed it off, heading back up before it decided to spill our secrets too.

The next morning, nursing coffee hangovers, I couldn't stop thinking about those nosy stones. They remembered way too much, like judgmental fossils gossiping about us. "If they could talk, they'd bill us for therapy," Julie joked, but I felt the house tuning in, ready for more.

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Tara 🇺🇸 031cde
Guild: Double D’s

+3

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