MĂ„RCHENHEIM is a semi-private 21+, original character, animanga discord-basedroleplay group inspired heavily by FABLES and THE WOLF AMONG US, created by Bill Willingham and developed by Telltale Games.Â
Step softly. Look closely. Behind the everyday streets, tucked between dreams and waking, lies Grimmstead: a city where fables bleed into reality, and the tales you thought you knew are alive, sometimes in the most unexpected or scandalous ways. Here, the storybook endings are negotiable, the villains have their secrets, and the heroes aren’t always heroic.
Founded in secret during the early days of New York City, Grimmstead was meant to be a sanctuary for displaced Märchens. Over the centuries, corruption, ambition, and the whims of godlike beings have distorted its streets into a city of temptation and vice. The divine light of Mother Goose flickers weakly, while the shadow of Mother Hubbard creeps into every darkened heart.
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SECOND EVENT UNDERWAY — THE SUNKEN SEASON
Above it all came the sound of a soft, feminine honk. No one saw her directly. Märchen were never quite meant to. But every soul in Grimmstead felt her presence settle over them like a blanket tucked gently over sleeping children. Beneath the fog and moonlight, colossal wings stretched wider than entire districts. Feathers pale as storybook parchment drifted silently through the clouds while Mother Goose lowered her great talons beneath the borough itself with gentle delicacy. The borough just… rose. Grimmstead headed for the clouds, streets and skyscrapers dangling over the Atlantic while those enormous wings beat against the dark. Down below, the Hudson River shrank into a black thread. A few parked cars shifted on tilted roads, but Mother Goose adjusted her grip, crooning quiet, honks into the night like a lullaby to keep the city under. Then the city descended. She set the city down on the water. Grimmstead hit the Atlantic, but it didn’t go under. It just bobbed there, buoyant and strange, with seawater lapping at the mouths of subway tunnels that now led nowhere. Out past the new shoreline, the ocean began to boil. Something monolithic was coming up from the trench. Huge, golden pillars rose first, draped in coral and glowing slime, followed by marble terraces the size of zip codes. Casino domes broke the surface, shedding seawater in massive cascades. One by one, lights flickered on through the mist until a new horizon loomed over the floating city. In the center of it all, a strobe-light sign the size of a skyscraper sparked to life, in bright neon: POSEIDON’S PALM: ATLANTEAN BEACH & RESORT