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IRIS
[You find yourself standing on a wooden platform suspended from the ceiling of a stone dungeon lit by many torches. The platform is held up by 11 woolen threads in your color, and it sways precariously with every movement you make. It doesn’t seem very sturdy at all. . . though in addition to those 11 strings, there are 11 more attached to the side of the platform, one in each other team color. They’re within easy reach.
If you peer over the edge of your platform, you’ll be able to see the floor of the dungeon, though it might not necessarily give you comfort. Dozens of iron, pointy spikes are embedded into the ground, the sharp ends facing up. If you fall, it won’t be a pleasant trip down.
You can also see the other teams suspended on similar platforms around you. They’re far enough away that they probably can’t hear you talking on your own platform, but if you yell, you might be able to communicate. . .]
If you peer over the edge of your platform, you’ll be able to see the floor of the dungeon, though it might not necessarily give you comfort. Dozens of iron, pointy spikes are embedded into the ground, the sharp ends facing up. If you fall, it won’t be a pleasant trip down.
You can also see the other teams suspended on similar platforms around you. They’re far enough away that they probably can’t hear you talking on your own platform, but if you yell, you might be able to communicate. . .]
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