GAME ONE: SIGNUPS, MORNING 12
The dawn of another of the great harvesting contests approaches, and countless dragons with Earth magic flowing through their veins find themselves drawn to the immense Feldspar Farms from all across Sornieth. No one fails to find their way; most know the route by heart, and those who are not old enough to have learned it are led by Snappers with memories stretching back centuries. Many travelers exchange wild tales of past Hungry Games on this trek, seeking entertainment and inspiration in equal measure--it's quite possible they will be one of the chosen participants this year, and the competitions are always fierce.
A hush falls over the crowd now gathered at the outermost entrance to the Farms as a blue and black Nocturne in a chef's uniform steps onto the stage and raises her claws for silence. She looks out over them all, smiling, and gestures to the sun rising high overhead before beginning to speak.
"My name is Cookbook," she says, ignoring the brief burst of feedback from the microphone. "And it is my pleasure to welcome you to the Hungry Games. As you can see, the sun has not yet abandoned us. It gives us warmth and light, as it has done all year. Because of this--and because of the tireless, clever dragons who work themselves to the bone!--Dragonhome's crops and factories have flourished once again!
Be proud!"
A cheer ripples through the crowd. She waits for it to die down a bit before holding a claw up once more and continuing.
"But we cannot appreciate the light without the darkness, and that darkness is swiftly approaching. We must work hard now so that we may pass through the cold and barren season with full bellies, warm hide, and strong hearts. This is a sacrifice we gladly make.
"Twenty-four of you will be chosen to make an even bigger one. You must leave your clans, your families, and your friends behind, and trust them to work hard in your absence.
Your devotion must be to Earthshaker, who depends on you for his own well-being this winter. It will not be easy. It will not be painless. Only one of you will make it to the Pillar with all that you have gathered. We do this out of love and gratitude, for it is his watchful eye which protects us all, and he cannot leave his post to gather this food himself.
"I will now take volunteers," she declares, opening the heavy book at her side and placing it on her podium.
"Twelve while the sun is up and twelve when the sun has set, for balance. If the morning's dozen fills up, await tonight's call." She picks a quill and inkwell out from a drawer in the podium and, dipping one into the other, readies herself to write.
"Begin!"
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