Ritus Sacri
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ECTOComp 2020 ghost horror language Latin Le Grand Guignol parser single room walkthrough
On the desk in front of you: a Latin dictionary, a blank sheet of lined paper, and the photocopied passage you need to translate for class tomorrow. You always leave things too late.
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It is almost midnight. You're sitting in your bedroom, alone.

On the desk in front of you: a Latin dictionary, a blank sheet of lined paper, and the photocopied passage you need to translate for class tomorrow. You always leave things too late.

All distractions have been hidden away. The darkness outside means that nothing will be stealing your attention through the window either.

Your pencil has been sharpened. It's time to get started.

You're sitting at your desk. It faces a window, which normally looks over your back yard, but currently all you can see is the night.

Behind you, the rest of the room is overcome by the mess you've been promising your parents you'll tidy. But even Latin homework is preferable to cleaning.
About yourself
Fifteen years old and slightly sleep deprived.
You match priscos with the mores
Yes, they're both accusative plural! So together they mean: "the ancient customs".

Okay, you can see how it fits together now - "The month was May, and it retains the ancient customs." You jot it down, glad that the start hasn't been too hard so far. You're ready to look at the next line of the passage.
You examine the line
ille memor ritus et timidus manium,

ille means "he", nominative singular. rituum you had
in the title, but it's genitive plural here - "of the rites".
manium means "spirits" again, but it's also genitive plural
here. There's a few words left you don't know.
You look up memor
Adjective: mindful. Agrees with something nominative singular. Time to match!
You look up timidus
Adjective: afraid. Agrees with something nominative singular. What does it match with?
Match memor with ille
That works! "He", where that person is "mindful".
You match the timidus with the ille
Yes, both are nominative singular. Whoever "he" is referring to, they're "afraid".

You can put it together with that. "He, mindful of the rites, and afraid of the spirits." You write it down, excited at the progress you're making, but you know you have to stay focussed if you don't want to lose your flow.
You match unda with the pura
Both of them are ablative plural, that works: "with pure water".

That's enough to figure out the line! "He gets up and rinses his hands with pure water from a spring." You jot it down. You hope your teacher won't mind your sleepy, sloppy handwriting.
You match the nigras with the fabas
Perfect, the two of them are accusative plural: "black beans".
You look up the aversus
Adjective: facing away. Agrees with something that's nominative singular. Ah! Must be referring to the ille from earlier.

All right, you think you can see it now. "He takes some black beans and throws them, facing away." You're getting close to the end now, just a few more lines to go.
You look up paterni
Adjective: ancestral. It needs to match with something that's either nominative plural or vocative plural.
You match paterni with manes
Yes, they're both vocative plural. So the man is speaking to his "ancestral spirits", it seems.
You match the peracta with the sacra
Both of the words are nominative plural, so that works: "completed rites."

This is it, you think you've figured out the final line. "He looks back, and he thinks the sacred rites completed perfectly." As you pen the words down, the relief flowing through you is immense.

But then you realise that feeling inside you feels more like a chill than it does relief. Cold. Did you forget to shut the bedroom door behind you?

You look back, and -

Maybe if you had not been so engrossed in your translating, you would have seen them coming.
You look back
You look back, and your stomach lurches.

Nine ghostly figures float in front of your closed bedroom door. Faded flesh clings, rotting, to their skeletons. From their ligaments hang scraps of cloth and thread and skin.

Your eyes meet the empty sockets of the closest figure. You feel an unsettling presence snake its way into your mind - tendrils of thought not rooted in any words, any language, and yet you understand.

"It is May. The night is silent. The sacred rites. Forgotten. So many years. We have been dishonoured. Disrespected. Searching for people. Searching in in people. For those who still remember."

You lean back against your desk.

"And you do. You remember."

They begin to move toward you.

"You remember, and you did not perform them."
You look
You're sitting at your desk. It faces a window, which normally looks over your back yard, but currently all you can see is the night.

There's a very quiet creaking noise, not noticeable until you looked up from your translation. You assume it's just the wind.
You look at the desk
Simple, wooden. You solved the issue of it being too cluttered to work by pushing the clutter onto your bed instead. Now, there's only your Latin dictionary, a sheet of paper, and the photocopied passage.
You look at the clutter
No thanks.
You check what you're carrying
You are carrying:
a pencil
You read the paper
The month was May, and it retains the ancient customs:

We perform the rites for the silent spirits.

When it is night and the night lends silence to sleep,

He, mindful of the rites, and afraid of the spirits,

Gets up and rinses his hands with pure water from a spring.

He takes some black beans and throws them, whilst facing
away.

When he has said, "Ancestral spirits, depart!" nine times,
You examine the window
You're sitting at your desk. It faces a window, which normally looks over your back yard, but currently all you can see is the night.

You look up at the window. Something about the reflection of what's behind you seems... wrong.
You examine the reflection
You peer at the reflection in the window, then look back, and your stomach lurches.

Nine ghostly figures float in front of your closed bedroom door. Faded flesh clings, rotting, to their skeletons. From their ligaments hang scraps of cloth and thread and skin.

Your eyes meet the empty sockets of the closest figure. You feel an unsettling presence snake its way into your mind - tendrils of thought not rooted in any words, any language, and yet you understand.

"It is May. The night is silent. The sacred rites. Forgotten. So many years. We have been dishonoured. Disrespected. Searching for people. Searching in in people. For those who still remember."

You lean back against your desk.

"And you do. You remember."

They begin to move toward you.

"You remember, and you did not perform them."
You say the ancenstral spirits depart
(to yourself)
There is no reply.
Y.
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