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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 ГИЛЬДИИ — «ПРЯНИЧНЫЙ ДОМИК: ТЕПЛО СКАЗКИ» </b></p>

<p style="color: blue; font-size: 20px;">  <i>
5 дней уюта, фантазии и сладких историй <br>
Локация: Пряничный Домик <br>
Хозяева: Гензель и Греттель — малыши, круглые сироты <br>
</i></p>
<p style="font-size: 19px;"> <b> <i>  🏠
В глубине леса стоит домик, пахнущий корицей и детскими мечтами. <br>
Здесь живут Гензель и Греттель — одни, но не одинокие. <br>
Каждый гость, переступивший порог Пряничного Домика, <br>
приносит с собой историю: <br>
добрую, сказочную, иногда немного грустную — <br>
но всегда искреннюю. <br>
Пять дней — пять тёплых страниц одной большой сказки.
<br>
</i></b> </p>

<p style="font-size: 19px;"> <b>🗝 Ваша миссия проста: </b> <br>
✔ исследовать Пряничный Домик <br>
✔ из списка, выпадающего после прохождения, сделать скрин подходящего под задание предмета <br>
✔ написать короткую атмосферную историю / легенду, связанную с предметом <br>
Форма написания свободная — романтика, юмор, драма, мистика. Главное — творчество! <br>
✔ Публикуем ответы  до 23:59 каждого дня (время Московское) <br>
✔ обязательно указать название своей гильдии </p></b> <br>
<p style="color: blue; font-size: 19px;"> Задание  (5 дней): </p>

<p style="font-size: 19px;"> <b> 🍪 ДЕНЬ 1 — «КОГДА ДВЕРЬ ОТКРЫТА ДЛЯ ДОБРА» </b> <br>
<i> Тема дня: коллекция «В гости просим» </i> <br>
В этот домик редко заходят случайно. <br>
Но если зашёл — значит, был нужен. <br>
📌 Найдите предмет из коллекции «В гости просим» <br>
📌 Напишите историю о госте, которого здесь приняли как родного. <br>
<br>

<b>  🌙 ДЕНЬ 2 — «СКАЗКА ПЕРЕД СНОМ» </b> <br>
<i>  Тема дня: коллекция «Сказки на ночь» </i> <br>
Когда за окном темнеет, <br>
даже взрослые нуждаются в сказках. <br>
📌 Найдите предмет из коллекции «Сказки на ночь» <br>
📌 Придумайте сказку или воспоминание, которое рассказывали в этом домике перед сном. <br> <br>

<b> 🎠 ДЕНЬ 3 — «ЧАСЫ БЕЗ ЗАБОТ» </b> <br>
<i>  Тема дня: коллекция «Свободное время» </i> <br>
Иногда счастье — это просто играть, смеяться <br>
и никуда не спешить. <br>
📌 Найдите предмет из коллекции «Свободное время» <br>
📌 Напишите историю о дне, который хотелось бы сохранить навсегда.

<br> <br>

<b> 🍬 ДЕНЬ 4 — «БЛЕСК СЛАДКИХ МЕЧТ» </b> <br>
<i>  Тема дня: коллекция «Сладкие сокровища» </i> <br>
Сладости здесь — не роскошь, <br>
а маленькие награды за смелость и доброту. <br>
📌 Найдите предмет из коллекции «Сладкие сокровища» <br>
📌 Придумайте легенду о самом ценном лакомстве в Пряничном Домике. <br> <br>

<b> 🍓 ДЕНЬ 5 — «БАНОЧКА С СЕКРЕТОМ» </b> <br>
<i>  Тема дня: Земляничное варенье из коллекции «В гости просим» </i>  <br>
Говорят, в этом варенье хранится лето, <br>
улыбки и надежда на лучшее. <br>
📌 Найдите Земляничное варенье из коллекции «В гости просим» <br>
📌 Напишите финальную тёплую историю о заботе, доме и маленьком чуде.
</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 ключами для боссов<br>
🏆 Каждый участник гильдии-победителя получит Великую шишку (при условии ежедневного участия в квесте) и <br>
🎁 1 коллекцию за 1 день участия (за 5 дней приз - 5 коллекций, за 3 дня - 3 коллекции и тд) <br> </p>
<p style="font-size: 20px;"> <b> 🕰 Сроки проведения: </b> <br>
📅 Со 27 по 31 мая  включительно <br>
(с полуночи до полуночи, по московскому времени) </b> </p>

<p style="color: green; font-size: 19px;"> <b> Администратор Тигра 🐯 <br>
Пряничный Домик открыт. <br>
Заходите — здесь всегда пахнет сказкой 🍭✨ <br> </b></p> </div>

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                    <p>Принять участие в этой теме очень просто просто</p>
                   <p>Читаем задание и выполняем </p>

<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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+13

941

Guild: Double D’s

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✈ DAY 2 — PLANE WRECKAGE
Bits of the Plane
On the second day, I nearly tripped over the old fuselage half-swallowed by jungle vines. It wasn't our plane — much older, livery faded to nothing, tail number gone. Inside: a child's shoe, a cracked instrument panel, and near the exit, a panel with two handprints pressed side by side in rust-colored paint. One adult. One child. Lala said nothing for once, which told us everything.
What stopped us cold was the map scratched into the instrument panel — every water source, every fruit grove, every dangerous reef on the island, documented by whoever had survived here before us. They hadn't just endured. They had understood this place and left the knowledge behind like a gift. John and I spent the evening copying every marking into my notebook by firelight. We didn't know if they made it home. But they had sat in that broken plane and decided the most useful thing left to do was make the island readable for the next lost soul. That night, something loosened in my chest I hadn't realized I'd been holding.

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D8ab2f

+3

942

Guild: Double D’s

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✈ DAY 2 — PLANE WRECKAGE
Bits of the Plane
Julie found the old wreckage on one of her mapping walks, and we followed her back to it through the jungle, all of us a little too curious for our own good. It was older than ours — much older — vines threading through the windows, the fuselage half-returned to the earth. Lala did a slow walk around it and said, deadpan, "Charming. Very rustic." Which made me love her, the way I always love her, for offering the joke before anyone has time to feel the weight of the thing.
Inside, it was the handprints that got me. Two of them, pressed side by side in rust-colored paint near the emergency exit — one large, one small. A parent and child, I was certain of it. I stood there longer than the others, just looking. John was already studying the scratched map on the instrument panel, and Julie was photographing everything, and Tara was checking the structural integrity of things for reasons only Tara understands. But I couldn't stop looking at those two hands. Whoever they were, they had pressed their palms together against that wall, and I choose to believe it was not in fear but in the kind of quiet declaration that needs no words. I am here. You are here. That is enough. We copied the map by firelight that night, and I thought about them the whole time — hoped fiercely, the way I tend to hope, that they had found their way home together.

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LBB 

39e8b4

+3

943

https://upforme.ru/uploads/0019/3c/8c/7217/t714763.png
день 2
гильдия Ёжик в тумане

На острове снимали фильм про выживших после крушения самолета. Местные аборигены, никогда не видевшие раньше ничего подобного, практически год любовались шоу под открытым небом. Особо им приглянулся самолет, диковинная штука, которая умела сама летать по воздуху. Аборигены поклонялись самолету, приносили каждый день к нему фрукты и проводили возле него свои шаманские обряды. И вот, сьемки закончились, группа улетела обратно на континент, а местное божество- останки самолета,  так и осталось на острове своеобразным небесным храмом для местных прихожан…

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Даже тигры любят игры!
Ррррррр! 🐅

f1ec22

+3

944

Guild Quest Day 2. Secrets of a Deserted Island
Guild: Double D's
https://i.imgur.com/y9WHX85m.png

Day 2 – FOUND: POLAR BEAR
Unexpected guests and the remains of disasters...
The island felt different the next day. A heavy fog had rolled in, thickening the air, and an odd, distant noise echoed across the shore. As we explored, Tara spotted something odd on the sand. "That doesn't look like driftwood..." She crouched down and gingerly pushed a large, lifeless shape with the toe of her boot. It was a polar bear – or rather, the remains of one. The fur was matted, its large frame sunken, but the teeth and claws were still intact. It seemed out of place, as though it had been dragged here against its will.

"LaLa, didn't you say you knew a lot about animals?" Tara asked, trying to lighten the mood.
LaLa rolled her eyes. "I never claimed to be an expert on  dead  polar bears. But this... isn't normal. A polar bear in these waters? That doesn't make sense."
Julie was already on the scene, bending down to examine the patches of the bear's fur. "The question isn't why it's here; it's  how . Polar bears don't swim these waters, especially not this far south. Maybe it was brought here by some storm... or something more unnatural."
Laura, her gentle eyes full of concern, knelt beside the body. "Poor thing. I wonder how it ended up stranded here."

It didn't take long for us to realize that this bear was far more than just a casualty of nature. Something had pulled it here, something strange. Was it part of the disaster that had befallen this island? Or perhaps part of some failed experiment? We were only beginning to understand the depths of the island's mysteries.

As we moved on, I couldn't shake the uneasiness growing in my chest. The bear wasn't just an oddity. It was a warning.

Day two's discovery left us questioning not just the island's past, but the forces that had shaped its current state. The presence of the polar bear suggested that something much larger had been set in motion, a disaster or event that had pulled it – and quite possibly, other things – here.

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❤День второй Гильдия « От чайников до…»  Ваааасяяя! Слышу я стон моей красавишны! Вааасяяя! Да что опять? — Эсми🙏🙏🙏Ну что такое??? Котик, ты видел , что лежит с обратной стороны острова? — Эсми, конечно нет, ты взяла на себя осмотр всего берега, пока я обустраиваю то, что будет нашей гаванью. Вааасииилииий- там какие-то обломки самолёта! Скорее посмотрим что это? Обломки? Конечно же бегом ! И я со своей курочкой мчусь!https://i5.imageban.ru/out/2026/02/22/fe4e369861ae894f55b7cc2550ad6f4a.png

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788aef

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946

DAY 3 – ATLANTIAN HELMET

Day 3 we dove into the tide pools (me dog-paddling like an overexcited golden retriever) and bam—glittering Atlantean Helmet half-sunk in coral, glowing like it had opinions.

I plopped it on my head immediately. “Behold, mortals! I am… slightly dizzy.” It fit perfectly because apparently ancient sea gods have the same big head as me.

The legend I narrated while striking dramatic poses (and almost falling off a rock again): This bad boy belonged to Princess Thalassa of Atlantis, the one who said “Screw the continent, I’m island-hopping.” The helmet protected her from the giant squid paparazzi, the crushing pressure of the deep, and—most importantly—her mother’s passive-aggressive texts via bioluminescent squid. The ancient secret it holds? Whoever wears it can hear the ocean gossiping about every ship that ever sank. Right now it’s telling me the Titanic was 90% iceberg’s fault and 10% “rich people being extra.”

Lala immediately tried it on and started roasting the helmet: “Wow, even Atlantis had influencers.” Julie was taking notes in her waterproof journal. John refused to wear it on principle (“I don’t trust glowing headgear”). Laura said it looked “very regal” on all of us. Liz declared helmet-sharing hours over before we started a cult.

We hid it in our growing treasure pile and called it a night. Day 3 vibe: officially mythical.

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Tara 🇺🇸 031cde
Guild: Double D’s

+2

947

Guild Quest Day 3. Secrets of a Deserted Island
Guild:  Double D’s
https://i.imgur.com/OBJvBIwm.png

Day 3 – FOUND: ATLANTEAN HELMET
An echo of a sunken civilization...
The sun broke through the clouds on the third day, casting golden rays across the beach, but none of us felt like basking in it. Instead, we were drawn inland towards a rocky outcrop, where Julie had spotted something strange glinting in the earth. Beneath the sand, we uncovered what appeared to be an ancient artifact – a helmet, intricately carved with symbols and strange markings. It was unlike anything we'd seen before, its surface glowing faintly in the sunlight.

"Amazing," Julie breathed. "This doesn't belong to any known culture. Could it be... Atlantean?"
I raised a eyebrow, not buying into the whole Atlantis thing. "Isn't that just a legend?"
But Tara, her curiosity piqued, crouched down to inspect it. "Not if the legends are true. Maybe this helmet belonged to one of the ancient Atlanteans. You know, the lost civilization that supposedly sank into the ocean millennia ago."
"Or maybe it's just a very old piece of junk," LaLa quipped, rolling her eyes. "Let's not get carried away with fairy tales."

Yet, as we all gathered around, it became clear that this was not ordinary helmet. Julie began reading the runes etched on its surface aloud, picking together a story. "The helmet belonged to a warrior, a protector of Atlantis, sent to guard a secret hidden within the island."
Laura's eyes widened. "What kind of secret?"
The answer seemed to hang in the air, unspoken, as if the island itself was watching us. But whatever it was, the helmet had kept its secrets for multiple thousands of years, and it wasn't about to give them up easily.

The discovery of the Atlantean helmet deepened the mystery of the island. Not only was it a relic from a lost civilization, but it hinted at a deeper, older secret. The island was not just a place of survival—it was a place of incredible history. History that we were only beginning to uncover.

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https://upforme.ru/uploads/0019/3c/8c/7219/t311669.png Jour 3 Casque atlantique L’écho d’une civilisation engloutie
Guilde To the Manor Born
Le casque de l’atlantique fait plus souvent référence au casque marinier décoré, il était utilisé durant les batailles de l’atlantique et le mythe selon lequel une grande île et ses habitants auraient disparu subitement dans un raz de marée selon le récit le plus courant, les Atlantes forment un peuple très avancé ayant subi comme punition divine la disparition. Plusieurs questions demeurent sans réponse au sujet de l’Atlantide. De là à imaginer qu’on va trouver dans le fond de la mer une grande civilisation des choses de ce genre là est-ce que ça existe.
Merci 🥰

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Mamie code 667a2c

+2

949

Guild: Double D’s

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🛡 DAY 3 — ATLANTEAN HELMET
Helmet of the Atlanteans
John saw the right angles in the rock before any of us. That's John — he notices the things the world half-hides, the things that require patience to see. We followed him to the southern point where the tide had pulled back to reveal a stone basin, and inside it, the helmet. Bronze and ancient, covered in coral, crowned with sea flowers in pink and orange and white. It was the most beautiful object I had ever seen in my life, and I told the others so, and Lala said I also cried at insurance commercials, which is true and not relevant.
I held it for a long time. The carvings on the basin told of a guardian — not a conqueror, a guardian — someone who stood at the edge between two worlds and made sure the crossing was done with care. The civilization had chosen to go below. Not fled. Chosen. I turned that over in my mind the way you turn something smooth and heavy in your hands. We spend so much energy being afraid of endings, I thought. Afraid that disappearing means defeat. But what if some endings are really just a different kind of going forward — quieter, deeper, beyond what the surface world can follow? I didn't say all of that out loud. I said it was beautiful and that I thought the helmet deserved to stay where it was. John nodded. We put it back, and the tide came in, and I watched until the water covered it completely.

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LBB 

39e8b4

+2

950

Guild: Double D’s

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DAY 3 — ATLANTEAN HELMET
Helmet of the Atlanteans
The tide dropped unusually low on the third morning, and John spotted right angles in the exposed rocks at the southern point — subtle, worn smooth, but unmistakable. We followed him down and found it resting in a stone basin: a bronze helmet, ancient and barnacled, crowned with living coral and sea flowers as though the ocean had chosen to decorate rather than destroy it.
The carvings around the basin told of a guardian — not a warrior, but a keeper of thresholds, protecting the passage between the world above and the world below. The civilization hadn't fled. They had descended by choice, transformed into something the surface world no longer had language for. Laura held the helmet gently and said she thought its secret wasn't a treasure but an idea: that disappearing isn't always losing. Lala said that was either profound or convenient. Her voice was softer than usual. We returned the helmet to its basin and watched the tide reclaim it, the sea flowers waving as we turned away.

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D8ab2f

+2

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