The letter is written on fine, apparently handmade paper, and lettered neatly in black ink with a brush, and signed at the bottom with a pictogram in red ink. Careful examination of the paper will reveal a watermark and signs of machine manufacture.
Reverend Monks and Pilgrims,
It was, in retrospect, perhaps unwise of us to hold a Go tournament in what was reputed to be a haunted castle. But the Heron Tower was well known, inexpensive, spacious, and provided a good mounting place for the television broadcast equipment. And even the ghosts were appropriate! Supposedly the 30 greatest Go masters of Phoenix era had committed suicide here in protest of the withdrawal of the Imperial Go subsidy that had formerly supported them.
At first, matters went so well! Corporate sponsors contributed a large prize for the winner, and television rights sold for a large amount after brisk bidding. Go masters from all over our world and many nearby worlds eagerly signed up for the tournament. The first day of the tournament was blessed with a perfect spring morning. The only thing that went wrong was that somehow, fifteen extra tables were set up, and there were a few hiccups in the match assignment software.
Then the tournament started, and things went horribly different than planned. First, all the doors and windows slammed shut and locked themselves. Then, a storm blew up from nowhere, darkening the sky in moments. A cold wind flowed into tower from thin air, all the Go boards began to glow softly, and the ghosts of the dead Go masters rose from the floor and made their way to thirty different boards. And then, and only then did play begin.
That was five days ago. No one can leave, no one can enter. If a player is eliminated, then they are made to play in another tournament. The players can neither sleep nor eat -- they can only play. The support staff is similarly bound.
However, the ratings have been excellent, and several of the ghosts have negotiated sponsorship deals by cell-phone.
So, could you please send some pilgrims to free us from this endless tournament? Although, if you could do without banishing the ghosts, we'd appreciate it -- they are good for the game, and they want to keep playing.
That first line right there is a great synopsis of the troubles to come. :P
I love the idea of undead champions negotiating sponsorship deals from afterlife. Makes you wonder what historical figures would lend their name recognition to today.