Quest [Fall Quest] Descension

[Marina Agamand]

Marina bowed her head in acknowledgement to the tawny-eyed ethaefal. "Lady Alses." The elegant creature looked no less worn by the past events than the other Lhavitians, but considering she could find the time and resolve to rummage through old caves even in this situation, she was evidently withstanding the losses better than most. Even though she could be helping out at the city, as there was still much work to be done, she was joining an exploration team, as if there was an adventure holiday going on. Even the divine had a sense of opportunism, it seems. After being introduced to Alses a second time by the very same person, the ghost giggled teasingly. "Sir Zeran, you have a poor memory." Her tone was more friendly than berating, since she quite enjoyed the young man's irrational behavior. The spectre's dimly glowing orbs stopped on the shimmering object that the unfamiliar chestnut-haired group member was handling. It looked no more impressive than any smooth, glowing rock Marina had come across in her studies of magecraft reagents. But when the man demonstrated how the glowing rock could be used, the spectre's curiosity rose dramatically, and she was about to inquire about the obviously magical item. Something distracted her, however. The strange atmosphere between Alses and the man who introduced himself as Svan was barely noticeable, but the ghost could for some reason pick up on it. Considering his unceremoneous manner towards her, the spectating ghost got the imression that the two were familiar, but while she was curious about what their relationship could be, she decided that now was not the time to investigate this matter. Finding nothing more of interest in the descending hallway, the phantom moved to follow the group further down. Like a true leader, Alses took initiative to start organising people, so that this band of assorted riff-raff had a higher chance to re-emerge from the cavern in one piece. To that end, the spectre could hardly contribute. There was absolutely nothing she could do to aid the group in the face of danger, but she was eager to serve, and all things considered, she wasn't entirely useless. Looking straight at Alses, then sweeping her gaze across the others, she soundlessly clapped her hands together and declared her most notable ability in a happy voice. "If need arises, I shall dutifully inform the entrance guardian of your grisly demise." Her face lit up In a reassuring grin. There was indeed a healer among them, but flesh was fragile and fleeting, which was especially noticeable when delving into ancient ruins, where any amount of deadly traps could be waiting. This whole escapade could come to an abrupt end in a myriad of ways for these people. Lady wolf? Somewhat confused by what everyone was talking about, the spectre's eyes wandered around the assembly, looking for someone she might have missed. Hearing an unfamiliar voice, Marina turned to find its origins. Her eyebrows rose in surprise when she saw a nude woman that appeared seemingly out of nowhere, commenting on the cavern in a serious tone. The absentminded ghost hasn't even noticed her presense before then. She definitely didn't look like a wolf, though it was not impossible that she was a wolf a moment prior, which would explain why her dark and subtle profile escaped the ghost's attention. The fact that someone was here before them was ground for worry, since there was a clear risk that the contents of the cavern were no longer intact. Stranger still, how could someone enter the cavern before them, when it was sealed and unknown before the quakes tore it open? Would the Shinya really fail to notice something like this? Granted, the Shinya had better things to do right now than overwatch old cave entrances, but it was strange that someone could strut around their jurisdiction without anyone noticing. Marina hoped that the potential interloper was still around, so that he could be squeezed for any information about this place. There was a probablility that he was just a looter, one of many that had plagued the streets of Lhavit during the turmoil. Marina would prefer it to be the mysterious early visitor to be someone less banal, however. Not at all concerned what effects her meddling might have, Marina left the protection of the assembled group and slithered around the cavern, tracing the strange markings on the walls with her immaterial fingers. She sometimes stopped to examinine certain ones closer, letting out small pulses of soulmist from her palm to scatter the thick cover of dust on the wall so that she could get a clearer view. While it has been made probable that this was a tomb, there weren't anything obviously funerary in this chamber. Analysing the unreadable symbols wouldn't shed any light on the purpose of this particular room, so moving on was the only thing left to do. Slipping past Opheria, the wraith blinked forward to the tunnel. Turning her head around briefly, she cast her one fellow overeager adventurer a mischievous glance, inviting him to ignore the female Shinya's silly warnings. "Sir Zeran, will you allow yourself to fall behind?" Her hazy form vanished into the tunnel, leaving behind only an echo of the girl's ethereal, provocative laughter. If he wanted to wear the esteemed title of Cannon Fodder, he would have to live up to it.

[Alses]

Alses didn’t turn her head to look at Licearsvansan, even when they descended into a much larger and grander chamber than the carving-strewn staircase. “Merely correction, Licearsvansan,” was all she said, voice quiet and calm. “Not censure.” Short and to the point and hopefully not likely to annoy or otherwise irritate Shara, who could perhaps best be described as ‘fractious’. If one was being polite.

It paid to be polite around someone with such sharp, sharp fangs forever available at a moment’s notice, and, more crucially, such worrying expertise in how to use them to best effect.

Besides, the game of poisoned politeness was something that was par for the course between the two of them. Well, perhaps that was a little harsh, but the incident had – understandably - tainted their relations somewhat. The Dhani still obeyed her – at least, when required by the Tower or when it might further his own interests, but he’d become…less pliant, less eager-to-please, and his eyes held that perpetual challenge and just the faintest hint of a spark of resentment.

To be fair, that at least was deserved.

Shaking her shining head, she prepared to continue on down into – a gulp, an expression of fear she wasn’t quite able to suppress, venturing so far from the sun – the bosom of the earth, only to be distracted by a closer, brighter flare of light than that held by their Shinya guide and protector.

Licearsvansan, of course – ‘Who else?’ snapped the spiteful part of her brain, mostly subsumed in gratitude for the light – was suddenly holding a bright globe of rich red radiance, bars of shining light spilling out between his fingers. Her first thought was of magic – but surely she’d have known if he’d taken up another discipline, and besides it looked nothing like reimantic flame or any other light-giving magic she’d seen. Even as she watched, his hands deftly shaped the crimson glow and then teased out a brilliant, shimmering strand of light that was the purest quill of redness she’d ever seen.

Healer. Healer. Healer. Such regard! Doubtless from the shimmering gnosis mark glittering on her skin, iridescently opalescent when it caught the like, a brighter mirror of the occasional scale. Alses looked away for a moment as the crimson light-strand snaked through the air in glowing lines. Perhaps Svansan – she’d once called him that, before the experiment went wrong and set them back to the polite and strained uplands of formal discourse – thought she could succeed where, so far, Alses herself had failed miserably.

Bah.

The crimson light drew her attention back again, though, that fascinating glow that pushed the pervasive darkness back, an echo of Syna or Zintila’s power down here in this lightless, starless, heavy place. Alses blanched and looked blankly skywards, paling at the thought of the thousands of tons of earth and rock – there had to be – above them, supported by millennia-old stonework, wishes and prayers.

Alses was holding herself stiffer than was perhaps natural, and the preternatural grace of all of her kind – at least, when in their celestial forms – was slightly lacking as a result of it. Her eyes were dark and huge, drinking in every possible scrap of light, and she was continually a little on edge.

Caves were not her natural habitat, it had to be said. It wasn’t exactly dislike, more…a creeping unease, a sense that she didn’t belong more than anything else. Alses was a creature of air and fire and illuminating light, ill-at-ease in a place of heavy earth and rock and secret darkness, and it showed.

She did her best to hide it; auristically-speaking, she managed it perfectly, but simple physical expressions, tics, that sort of thing was far harder to control, or even to know she was doing. Never mind, never mind; there were more pressing matters.

Slender fingers, glowing with all the shades of fire-opals, extended cautiously towards the ball of light in Svansan’s hand, flashing into an altogether bloodier light as the crimson radiance danced in her shimmering skin. She hesitated for just a split-tick, only really visible for anyone who was watching and waiting for it - like Licearsvansan – eyes flickering up to scan over his face before her fingertips closed gingerly over the glowing thread.

“Fascinating, Licearsvansan,” she murmured, as a thank-you of sorts, perhaps slightly piqued he’d offered it to the healer-girl first. But then, he always did have a tiresome regard for the people her mortal chain mimicked. Oh, she’d be the first to admit they did good and vital jobs – her last life had been as a Konti, apparently, serving as an advisor to some nameless potentate in a desert city far from water (she’d never been able to find out more than that) – but Svansan’s regard for them bordered on the slavish at times.

For now, though, she was more interested in examining the unusual string than in verbal sparring with her Dhani student, twisting and ravelling its scarlet skein through her fingers, delighting in the spangled light it struck from her gem-like skin. “What on Mizahar is this stuff?” she demanded quietly, still very much aware of Shara’s abrupt snap, carefully reaching up to tie a few streamers of Ionu’s Star into the intricate crown-of-horns that wove a glittering cage about her head. Alses’ shimmering horns caught the shine and reflected it, multiplied it, a sparkling corona about her head that put a faint smile on her face at the thought of what she must look like. “And how long does it last?”

Precious little time to think on it, though; Whirlwind Zeran made his presence known in short order, his bright voice ringing down the stairwell, rather louder than the rest of them.

“It is,” she’d called back quietly, sending a split-tick surge of djed into her unmistakeable aura, causing it to balloon outwards for a moment, to become more visible – even to a novice or perhaps even an unattuned person – a thousand shimmering curls and curlicues of purple and red and white-gold devotion, a celestial raiment born from a thousand fading lives and half-caught memories. Just as quickly as she’d brought it into sharp focus, Alses let it go again, allowing the deeper mysteries of the aura wrapped around her body to shroud her in their comforting, anonymising embrace.

Cannon fodder. She didn’t know what a ‘cannon’ was – presumably some sort of terrible beast, from the tone of Zeran’s voice when he said it – but claiming that as a skill was…worrying. “Companion Zeran, being food for a monster is not a skill you should be thinking about. Elena Lariat, for one, has invested far too much time in you to lose you to some creature’s slavering jaws.”

Fortunately the energetic Companion seemed to come to his senses, at least a little, reeling off a short and fairly to-the-point list (at least, by Zeran's standards) of his skills – including his appraisal of her own, to which she nodded. “We have our mastery in auristics, it’s true,” Alses agreed quietly, as the stairway opened out into a far larger and, blessedly, lighter hall. “A small measure of skill in glyphing, too, and magecraft as has been mentioned.” The bright hall was much more congenial than the narrow staircase, its edges scalloped with alcoves and vibrating with a subtle wrongness – well, perhaps that was a little strong, but the cavernous chamber rang and resonated with strange auras.

Her smile, rather than broad and bright at the shining calias phosphorescence all around, at the fascinating markings that scored the walls: very like Nader-canoch in their runic forms but arranged in such a curious manner, was uneasy and restrained, therefore, and almost without conscious thought she spun skeins of djed up through her body, flushing the magic up from the core of her soul out through the myriad djed conduits that made her a practicing sorceress of the highest calibre, letting it paint the world in all the shining colours of the rainbow.

There were glittering lines of jagged and broken djed spangling the view in her mind’s eye, shattered and distorting, still trying to perform what scraps of function they could retain. Wards, Alses guessed, glyphed deep into the walls and mostly destroyed by time and the earthquake which had convulsed the place – but there were other mysteries, other oddities about the place too that sucked and niggled at her growing sight, flickers of burgundy shimmer here and then gone, shifting and changing more than they should, and nothing like the stony, unchanging auras she’d expect.

“It looks…alive,” she murmured, hardly aware she’d done so, flying on silver wings of pluripotent djed as the tomb walls melted into shadows before her prying magic. “But broken, somehow. Like a heavily-damaged Animation, almost.” A living building, now that was Animation on the very grandest of scales, the very pinnacle of the craft she was still very, very bad at.

The secret, obscured nature of the tomb – and of the mysterious Nyavanni who Shara asserted had built it, a culture Alses knew nothing about – grew ever deeper, all the more enticing.

The enigma only deepened when Shara announced the presence of another, someone who’d gone before them, and recently, at that, just as Alses had been about to mention it, to alert everyone that someone else was perhaps in the crumbling, ancient, dark complex with them.

‘Or perhaps,’ her mind added darkly, ‘Their rotting corpse is.’

“Zeran!” she called sharply, seeing him vanish into a yawning opening, dark against the glowing brilliance of the phosphorescence everywhere.

“Idiot boy,” she hissed, infuriated – who knew what waited in the darkness beyond the light? Were there traps in the tunnels that the reckless Companion was hurling himself headlong towards, ancient guardians of any shade, or some other nameless defence her own brain couldn’t throw up off-hand? Would they soon be pulling the mangled body of one Zeran out from the wreckage of some ancient mechanism set against just such intruders?

“Perhaps we should follow the path of our trailblazer,” she said, meaning the mystery man who’d been here before. “D’you still have his scent, or shall we follow the burn of his aura on the stones?”

[Elysium]

They continued toward the only exit. Shara’s eyes were curious, following the patterned walls with single-minded efficiency. At one point she even trailed a hand along the uneven surfaces, following the lines. The gilded lormar symbol burned to life upon the back of her hand, basking the surrounding space in a muted, arcane glow. Opheria froze, dark eyes alert, as if expecting news from the gesture. ”Not Nyavanni,” the scholar said after several heartbeats, withdrawing her hand. ”Though I was correct in the first assertion of it being a tomb.” She flexed her fingers, as if to work out a cramp. ”These looks like Nyavanni runes, but only because of the erosion. They’re nader-canoch, wards, and as far as I can tell, whoever put them there did so as a warning.” She shot Alses a knowing glance. This did not bode well. Opheria raised a tidy brow, quietly stepping over the sinking sense of foreboding. ”Warning of what, exactly?” The dark-haired, amber-eyed woman fixed her with a penetrating stare. ”Something. I got the sense that whoever wrote it didn’t quite know, either. The composer was a man - older, perhaps middle-aged, from the Suvan Empire. He was a mage, a scholar. Not a coward, either, mind you. He was terrified. All I could glean was that he lost people here. He wanted to prevent more of the same.” So the plot thickened. ”Zeran!” She called to the door. ”Group meeting. Get your ass back here.” Shara turned back to the group. ”Now, as much as I’d like to call you all volunteer body guards – looking at you, Ser Cannon Fodder – many of you are actually here for your more cerebral dispositions.” She looked from face to face, settling on Alses and the Twilight girl. ”It’ll be up to us to shed some light on this.” But her face suddenly grew dark, grave. ”Part of the premonition told me that whatever is hidden here, it feeds off selfishness, those out for personal gain. Those that died did so because they were here for the wrong reasons. The wards used to say the same; that was what he intended when he wrote them.” She looked upon each face with gravity. ”If your heart is impure, it will betray you.” Shara paused then, listening intently to what Alses had to say. ”I’m sensing a theme here. You said it feels alive?” She looked distressed. ”It’s too early to say, but if that is the case, we’re facing a very, very dangerous foe. Everyone, whatever you do, stay together. I mean it.” Opheria nodded along. ”Let’s move on. It won’t help to wait for this thing to find us, now.” Shara smiled tentatively, looking past the proverbial Sword of Damocles. ”Well said. The quicker we act, the sooner we discover the secret of this place. I’ll track the man who came before by scent. It should tell us more on what has happened here. Save your strength, Alse. We’ll be needing it.” There was only one logical exit at the far end of the room, where someone had clearly carved a door from reimancy long ago. The frame was adorned with aged depictions of the more elder gods, Tanroa and Lhex, as they joined hands atop the entryway. In spite of the passage of time, the carvings were beautiful, ornate. Astonishing, some might say, but ominous; their purpose was unknown. What did it mean? As they passed the threshold, what came next was both breathtaking and heart-stopping. They looked upon a yawning cavern, the door leading onto a catwalk far above. The space on either side was a sheer drop, inky and endless, no rail or barrier to guard them. It ran in a perfectly straight line to the other side, intersected with another walkway that led to the left and right, all three ending at flawless, arched doorways. The way to the right was severed, a jagged slash between the exit and the path, leaving no stone to travel atop. It was so linear, so clean a cut it almost looked intentional. ”Zintila have mercy… This is amazing.” Shara looked breathless, eyes alight with wonder.

[Licearsvansan]

He saw it. That brief pause in her movement, the slightest mark of imperfection in her otherwise flawless facade. But all he needed was that small unintentional admission of weakness. It was akin to wounding a god. He didn't want to hurt her, but he did want her to know that he could make her bleed.

He turned back to the healer as Alses wove the string around her horns. "Iosha Moonchaser." He let the words roll over his tongue thoughtfully. An internal war was waged between the urge to beam at her like a little child or maintain his professional calm. Thankfully, the latter won out and Svan merely smiled politely to the woman. "A pleasure to meet you." He said with a light bow of his head. While he managed to pull it off on the outside, he shuddered to think of how foolish he probably looked to any half decent aurists watching. Thankfully, Svan had little to hide from Alses, and Zeran seemed to have the combined attention span of a goldfish and a fruit-fly. Svan chuckled softly, "Assuming we manage to put an end to these earthquakes I would be more than happy to meet up with you again. I'm only an assistant, but I will tell you what I can." There was dual meaning to his words. The way he said it implied that he was inferring that he was not the most knowledgeable on the subject. But other truth to his words were that there were secrets and private affairs that Svan knew he couldn't share with those outside his tower. Mages after all, were not known for their love of sharing secrets.

"Alses though could tell you much more about...." Svan turned to the Eth to find the string he gave her dangling from the radiant horns on her head. A gloved hand shot up to stifle a laugh. He never would have thought that it was possible to look both ridiculous and amazing at the same time. The way the light played off her horns, he might have mistaken her for a goddess if he didn't know better. "Oh now your just showing off." He whispered to the woman in a playfully teasing voice, a smile of genuine amusement lining his face. "Its called a star of Ionu, and as far as I'm aware they don't go out. Or go dull, and you can even-" Was Shara giving Svan a dirty look or was that just him. "How about we talk about this later. You know, when we are no longer in danger of an early grave." Svan stared up at the stony ceiling. At least we wouldn't have to worry about having our corpse go unburied...

Svan continued on a ways in silence. Chuckling silently to himself at Zeran's jovial attitude. It lightened the mood...at least until the ghost decided to chime in about reporting their grisly demise and all. It caught Svan off guard to say the least. He hadn't even been aware that they even had a ghost with them. It wasn't the first time seeing one....but there was just something unnerving about their presence. Perhaps it was simply the fact that Svan couldn't do shyke to harm them. Well, at least not physically. "It would be much more appreciated if you were to inform the Shinya guard upstairs to send help in the event of a cave in." Svan had first feared that the ghosts words had been a threat and that it had come from this cave. Its words and familiarity with the two aurists made it clear that she had come from above. Unfortunately, the presence of the ghost reminded Svan of the possibility that there might be more, less cheery, ghosts waiting in the shadows beyond them.

And the words "Nyavanni tomb" certainly weren't helping his nerves.

With nothing more than the a set of dim lights to guide them, the group continued to make their way down into the cavern. As they entered the larger chamber Svan felt the very hairs on his arm stand up. Something about this place set him at unease. "You know, I was thinking that the best thing about dying from a cave in down here was that we get a free burial. Now it seems that the gods are even offering us a chance to choose our own casket." He spoke the words with a cynical frown. He licked his lips with half feigned nervousness, a trick he had learned to do to so that he could taste the air without looking odd. The room tasted of death. Not rotting flesh, no, it was the dusty old decrepit sort that smelled of bones ash and things long forgotten. It gave Svan some ease. It meant that nothing had died here recently. At least....not in this room.

Before Svan could relax though, he saw a bright red light growing on the wall of the room, and as he traced its source the Dhani found that it was Iosha....touching the potentially lethal markings. He walked over to her briskly and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "It might not be a good idea to touch the glowing markings left by the ancient superpowered wizards." Svan wore a nervous smile. I don't know much about the ancient people, but I've learned a bit about magical traps recently. And I can tell you from experience, you don't want to trigger one." Svan took his arm off the girl's shoulder, "Especially if its a grave robber that they are expecting to trigger it."

Svan returned to the others just in time to hear the words, “It looks…alive,”

Petch It was never good when something dead was "alive". He had yet to see even a single corpse rise up to give him a bouquet of flowers and tell him how handsome he was...On second though, kind undead seemed even creepier.

”Not Nyavanni,” The mostly naked kelvic proclaimed, ”Though I was correct in the first assertion of it being a tomb.”

Oh thank the gods we still have that. It would have been just terrible to learn that we were actually in an ancient bookstore now wouldn't it? The Dhani merely let out a short groan at the new to reveal how uncomfortable he really felt. His discomfort only grew as the Shinya and Seeker explained their situation. He glanced over to the healer. He couldn't imagine her being in too much trouble down here. What with the self sacrificing that being a healer tended to entail. But...Svan's eyes slowly moved over to the Eth. You're petched. Mages were self centered. At least as far as Svan was aware. Unfortunately, he as no different. A simple foe could be out witted and beaten. But whatever was down here was powerful enough to make a Suvan wizard quake in his boots, and kill several people. Were it a simple whim that had brought him down here, Svan would have turned around without a second thought. But this was for Caiyha. He could only hope that his willingness to risk life and limb for his goddess would be enough to shield his impure heart from whatever it was that lurked bellow this dismal room.

Svan followed as the group pressed onward. His light, now illuminating the rear. It wasn't exactly fear that slowed his steps, but simple caution. A dozen things were running through his head. The mystery man being one of them. The wolf had told them that it was possible that the man came here shortly up to as many as 30 days prior to them. That meant that he could have visited this place before the second earthquake....or perhaps immediately after it. Svan wasn't sure what it all meant, but he was determined to find this man. If he had been here before the earthquake then he might know how to stop them. Assuming he was still alive.

As the group continues forward, they came face to face with a bridge suspended over a chasm of black rocky death. On one side it seemed as if the bridge had been cut clean off. Likely by reimancy or the world's biggest sword. Not even botheing to beat around the bush, Svan lifted a finger and pointed to the damaged walkway. "What do you think the chances are of our objective, and whatever terror this place holds being down that way?"

Svan wasn't waiting for an answer. He was already untying his rope.

oocSorry I got dirt tired by the end of this. No chance to proofread. Good night.

[Jenni Twilight]

x
x

Jenni watched Shara inspect the wall with curiosity, a small smile touching her face at Eyris' mark. The Kelvic was -though possibly not entirely officially- a Seeker... and they were on a similar level here. Though... the Twilight certainly agreed that the woman was much... much more skilled than herself. She could try anyways.

The morpher raised an eyebrow when the Kelvic took back her claim of the cavern being Nyavanni... but it was still a tomb. She glanced around, taking in the sights and trying to commit them to memory. Appparently it was something else... the markings were Nander-Canoch... and a warning. It was sort of a foreboding feeling as Shara told the story- at least what she'd been able to glean with her gnosis. So it seemed to be... almost a death trap. Jenni paled at the statement, blood draining out of her face, but determination moving into her eyes. This sounded... dangerous, to be sure... Still, she'd gotten herself into this mess, and she was going to make it out... with more than they'd entered with. She was going to figure out this cavern if it was the last thing she did.

When Shara addressed her and the Ethaefal, the Twilight nodded stiffly, hands clenched tightly around her book. She was probably more knowledgeable than the rest of the group... though, from what she'd heard, Alses was a skilled Aurist... that would be incredibly useful, along with the Kelvic's Lykata.

The next explanation caused her to stiffen even more, if that was possible. People died here. Was this a tomb because of that? Or was it chock full of the dead... would they find bodies? And if they were talking pre-valterrian here... were they human? Or even vaguely human? Certainly that wizard was Suvan, and probably human... but still... who knew what odd things they'd find as they went deeper. Despite the danger... she was excited.

She thought a moment on the 'heart is impure' thing, hesitating on it for a while. Was her heart impure? She kept thinking back to all the times before the Day of Discord... the Twilight family had not been the best then. Though... she'd never really gotten into much of it, especially being an illegitimate child. She spent most of her time learning... and still did. She was dedicated to knowledge... did that make her heart pure? She wasn't here for any other reason other than information... but did that make her greedy? Well, if you wanted to be literal, yes she was greedy for knowledge. But.. selfish? Slightly. Was she here for personal gain? Again, slightly, but she was planning on sharing anything she learned. So... wasn't it for the greater good of Lhavit?

Her mind was in a state of confusion, trying to decide what to do next. Well... that was a stupid question. She would go deeper into the cavern and learn what she could with the rest of the group. What they found deeper... well, if it was physical danger, the other members could deal with it. If it was mental... she could deal with it.... Right?

Hesitating for only a moment, she followed Shara, eyes focused on the oddly marked walls. She'd managed to clear her mind by now, and only focus on figuring out what she saw... but her thoughts kept flicking back to 'was her heart unpure'? Was she a good person? Was she selfish? Maybe this journey would tell her... but hopefully if the answer to the first and last was yes... there wouldn't be too much trouble.

Sighing, her eyes flicked to a carved door, the frame adorned with the images of two gods. Lhex and Tanroa. Fate and Time. It was beautiful and magnificent... but was there some kind of meaning? Maybe the connection between the two... certainly both were old and powerful gods. But Fate and Time? All she could think of that was... well, to be simple, old age. The Elderly. Aged by time and left to fate. It felt like something would happen to those who went through that gate, but what it was... she couldn't say. \

"Fate and Time..." she muttered, so her companions could hear. "What in Syna's name would that mean..." It was a hanging, rhetorical question, but she thought it was important so others would hear, and think on, her thoughts.

What came next, however, was even more amazing. A massive cavern, the floor invisible to the naked eye, sat before them. Thin stone bridges crossed the room, one heading straight towards the other side, and two dissecting from that... however, the right seemed impassible with a large crack in the way. At the end of each path was an archway, quite similar to those they'd exited.... It was like a four way intersection.

After staring at the scene for a few moments, the Twilight's mind turned to which direction they could take. Forward or left were obvious choices, but right... that was the real mystery. She stared at the jagged cut for a while, before coming to the conclusion that it was intentional. It was too... clean. And completely blocked that passage. Still, she knew Opheria was a reimancer... what if she was a stone reimancer as well as a fire one? Then she could easily re-build the bridge across, and they could explore that opening too.

"Right, Left, or Forward... It seems like an important choice. Opheria," she glanced at the Shinya, hoping to gain her attention. "Are you able to manipulate stone as well as fire? If so... would you be able to recreate the right path? Just an idea... though it looks like someone is trying to keep us out..." After another moments hesitation and thinking, she turned to the Kelvic next. "Uh... would you be able to use your Lykata to investigate each of the doors? Say what is different about each of them?" She paused, wondering how they would know which direction to head, and what each was held. How would they see the was down though? Auristics?

An idea popping into her head, she turned to Alses. "And you... would you be able to see into the tunnels with your Auristics? See if there's anything odd down them? I don't want to run into anything... dangerous." She winced at the word, almost as if it would jinx them just by saying it. Still... better to be safe then sorry. When Svan spoke, she turned to the man with an uncertain look on her face. "Possibly. That, or it's too dangerous, and someone wants to stop us going there... Ugh. I wish we could explore all of these!" She sighed lightly, not liking the annoying decision.

Common - Nari/Crook - NPC - Writing - Reading

x

[Zeran]

OOCIt was only after Alses' post that I realised my mistake... Mizahar doesn't have gunpowder and, therefore, doesn't have cannons...

Zeran bristled at the palpable aura that brushed over him for only a moment. "You're just showing off now." His statement would have more meaning to any of the others who had felt Alses' aura fill the narrow tunnel. He'd be there one day, hopefully, performing such feats with ease as the Ethaefal did. After thinking on it, he was probably going to do the same things when he was that good, just to mess with people a bit more, so he didn't have the right to say anything at how she decided to demonstrate her mastery of Auristics. A few steps further down accompanied a response to his earlier comment. Zeran thought about Alses' words, and how she always seemed to have something to say in return, and how she always seemed to be right. He bit on the inside of his cheek. She hadn't gotten her position as an instructor for being wrong, that much had become evident in the time he had spent with her. "You raise a good point," he replied, still in partial thought. "She would be very upset if I didn't return with her information. OK then, everybody has to look out for themselves now! I'm not taking a dagger to the gut for any of you!" That probably wasn't what Alses had had in mind when she made her statement, but if it came down to it, Zeran wasn't about to die a heroic death throwing himself on the sword for another. "Please direct all concerns and queries about missing appendages to our esteemed healer!" If they wanted his help, they'd have to ask and he'd help as best he could. If it wasn't enough, he'd miss them, but he didn't have a death wish. I doubt death would keep Lady Elena away from me anyway. She'd probably want her information still. The walls were covered in all sorts of carvings unlike any he had seen before. Zeran spent points listening in to the others' musings as he walked past, the clicking of his cane against the floor indicating his periodic passing. He had no clue about any of it, so he thought it best to listen to some of the people who had a better idea of mysterious, underground cave markings them himself. A tomb was the last thing he caught wind of before Marina had taken it upon herself to challenge him to a race. "Never fall behind. The backs of heads get boring after a while." With an echoing laugh, the spectre blinked from existence, leaving wisps behind, leading into the opening at the opposite end of the luminous hall. He'd seen an entire city light up at night, sparkling like the stars, but glowing rocks had a different appeal to it that it was almost a shame to leave. But he wasn't about to be beaten. "No fair!" he called after her, throwing his cane up to catch it in the middle, running as he followed into the diminishing ambient light that seeped into the tunnel also. His steps echoed for the short distance he ran, feeling the stones have more effect on his feet than they did on him. It wasn't far before he caught up with Marina, the light from the hall just managed to reach them, and the group's conversations had become mumbles in the length that separated them. Zeran wasn't sure if the Little Miss had slowed down to gloat over a victory, or he had actually caught the ghost on foot. "Hello again, Miss Marina," he greeted her as he pulled alongside. "I was listening, by the way. In order, yes, I probably do. I can't remember. Two, I'd prefer you make some attempt to save us if we are likely on our way to dying, and not yet dead, before alerting the Shinya please?" His breathing was laboured as he spoke, exhausted from the short sprint he had just done. He really needed to get better at running, unless he felt like dropping on the floor as an easy meal. "Otherwise you'll be back to the beginning with finding a playmate to possess!" he laughed. "And no, that's not a threat, unless you can still do so with my corpse..." He shrugged. "Not like I'm going to have a use for it at that point, unless I join you in unlife." He gave her an unsettling grin, knowing she didn't like how casually he spoke of becoming a ghost as much as she didn't like having someone to possess. It was just an incentive for her. It wasn't like they both wouldn't benefit from it. Zeran dropped in to a crouch suddenly, throwing his hands over his head, sending the cane clattering to the floor as it slowly came to a rest, as he ducked for protection, at the booming voice that followed the pair down the passage. He was not prepared for it, and the action had been involuntary, though he found no shame in it and only laughed at himself. "And I'm the idiot? At least I'm not alerting every deadly thing down here to our location." He smiled back up at Marina, picking his weapon from the stone, indicating for her to follow with the handle. "Group meeting," he repeated, "and you're a part of the group, Miss Marina. You're the only one I have fun with at the moment." He jogged back, rather than sprinted this time, to the group awaiting his return, dropping the metal tip to the ground, resting both hands on the handle, and leaning on his cane like a third leg. "Please try be nicer when asking me to do something. I'm more likely to do as ordered that way." Six targets was pushing his hypnotism a bit, lessening the effect it would have on each individual, but it didn't matter if it didn't work. Zeran was testing his limits, which would acquiesce with a weaker suggestion and which were mentally stronger. Physical strength was easy to distinguish from one's physique. Mental strength was a little harder to distinguish without the proper techniques, and Zeran used what the technique he was quickest and most effective with. "Besides, nobody said I wasn't allowed to run on ahead. He wasn't entirely sure he understood why, but Zeran felt that Shara didn't like him too much by this point, despite them only having met a short while ago. I still like the title though! Her words were informative, but sounded very factual as she spoke them. Men died for the wrong reasons? "What would be considered a 'right reason'?" he found himself asking in the first silence. "Is it wrong that we are here to investigate? Is it wrong we are hear for our own personal reasons? Or is that a fancy way of telling us not to steal anything? I don't fancy fighting my own heart. I need it." Whether he did or didn't die wasn't what concerned him. If Lhex had decided his journey would end here, he'd argue the point in his waiting room, if he didn't become a ghost first. Not a lot of good it would do me. What got him thinking was the amount of danger they already seemed to be in, from the caution in Shara's voice. What exactly were they up against? Zeran chewed his thumb at the concentration. He may not have any qualms with dying, but that didn't mean he was looking forward to it. If there was as much danger as her words and tone suggested, perhaps he wouldn't run too far ahead of the group again. Maybe just enough to run back, should anything go wrong. Getting maimed something he could do without. It doesn't sound like I'm being given much of a choice anyway. He walked alongside Opheria now, still chewing on his thumb, only knowing where to go as he watched the groups feet on the floor. Zeran looked up again at one of the words of the woman with the notebook, Jenni. Fate and time? What does she mean by that? He followed her eyes, coming to rest on the etchings of Lhex and Tanroa, making sense of her words. Wordlessly, Zeran veered towards the feet of the etching of Lhex, placing his hands at her feet, bowing his head and closing his eyes, and muttering, "You guided me." He straightened himself, walking over to the Tanroa etching and repeating his stance. "You carried me." He raised his head, looking over both etchings, with their hands touching over the doorway. "I thank you both for watching over me." They were two of the very few people that Zeran would ever likely to show any reverence to. Just like everyone, he had his beliefs. His just happened to lie with the two who watched over the progress of every other being in Mizahar. If it wasn't a task worthy of respect, he didn't know what would be. "They watch over everything," Zeran replied, not turning away from the two. "Even the dead." And he followed the group down the darkening passage once more. The next room still held its own amount of awe, but was a little less favourable to Zeran. He had a wide, open area, and no means to make any use of it. He couldn't fly, neither was he so acrobatic as to be able to swing from walkway to walkway, and his projection wasn't strong enough to allow him to jump and return unharmed. Zeran looked off into the darkness, trying to think of something he could do with the place. It wasn't like he'd be able to come here whenever he wanted later to try something out. He kept his ears open, listening to the ideas being thrown around again. Svan was now talking about the bridge, and the Twilight scholar was offering ideas on how to see what was in all the rooms. "I'd say about as good as the other two doors, Sir Svan," he replied to his question, still looking into the darkness. "Perhaps the person who did it knew we'd take the one that looked most obvious. People are more likely to try and do something they've been told they can't." He smiled. "I know I do." "I also agree with Lady Jenni when she says about searching the other rooms." His eyes briefly scanned the exquisitely crafted doorways. "If Svan's way is the way forward, we should explore the other rooms first before going that way. We might find something useful. Alternatively, if it isn't then we have just risked out lives for nothing and made things harder for ourselves." He turned to Jenni, fixing her with a smile. "You've got the right idea, but the wrong method, in my opinion." Zeran turned to Opheria. "Detach your body and scout out all three rooms. It's unlikely you'll get hurt in your astral form, and the rest of us can protect your body here." He gestured towards the ghost girl floating nearby. Take Miss Marina with you, just so you've got somebody to watch your back if there is something that can hurt ethereal beings. You two aren't are fragile as the rest of us." Zeran turned back to the darkness. "I don't think the Shinya are likely to have sent a newbie to help guide and protect us. So you should be good enough in Projection to do full-body detachments. If you can't, I give the people always watching me too much credit."

[Alses]

Alses dipped her head briefly to Shara. “Understood,” she replied calmly, gently pinching the surging, elegant djed streams inside herself into nonexistence, the bright pearly glows fading and shrivelling and decaying from moonflood rivers in full spate to the dullest of trickles, just maintaining the passive Sight of an aurist. Broken, juddering auras faded into whispers of motion, and the flare of tattered wards dimmed to the faintest of sparkles at the very edge of sight.

“Cerebral is right,” she murmured, mostly to herself. “We’ve never swung a weapon in anger.” Swinging the Morningstaff around to get some idea of its heft and length didn’t count. Still, there was a first time for everything, and in a tight corner Alses would happily try and slaughter her way out of it if no other option presented itself.

She contemplated Shara’s next words quietly, putting one titbit beside the other and integrating them into what was already known, suppressing a flash of envy at the deductive abilities nonpareil of Eyris’ gnosis.

“Something here,” she noted, speculative. “Something dangerous, something sealed away and something that has killed – or has made men kill for it. Something disturbed and brought to light by the earthquake after who knows how long buried underground. And then we have someone who has somehow managed to get here before us, too. ”

She blanched at Shara’s next, grave pronouncement, wincing at the implications. “I’d have come here at the city’s behest anyway,” she murmured. “Lhavit’s my home and we love it deeply…But we’d be a foolish Ethaefal if we didn’t see the opportunity to raise ourself up, either. I’ll have to tread carefully,” she admitted, rueful and yet certain that at least some of the people here hadn’t volunteered for Lhavit, tea and mummy’s starfruit sundae.

Putting the unsettling notion of personal gain being the downfall here, she nodded in response to Shara’s clarifying question. “The whole place feels as though it’s alive. There’s something, a certain spirit, a touch of sentience to the djed in the walls, the floor, the ceiling, all of it – but it’s fractured, broken, bits of it aren’t working in harmony with other parts – or at least, that’s what we can sense from a superficial analysis.”

Still half-immersed in magic, paddling in the shallows of her power, she could see the subtle wavering whorls of djed pour out from Zeran as he put his hypnotic talents – meagre though they perhaps were – to use. They even wound around her, forever trying to hide from her sight as the Companion spoke, the glowing shimmers of hypnosis becoming stronger and yet, somehow, subtler with every word.

Shaking it off – even though she knew it was a hypnotic trick, a cantrip to bend the minds of the weak-willed, the fact that it resonated with a fundamental courtesy in her soul, the fact that she thought, privately, that Zeran had a point about politeness, made it harder to distinguish her own thoughts from the suggestion his hypnotism was trying to implant.

She was quickly brought back to earth by her Dhani apprentice, though, a far more dangerous consideration than a touch of harmless – if petulant – hypnotism, and couldn’t stop herself from stiffening at Licearsvansan’s offhand remark about glyphs and wards. His ‘experience’ with traps had been her own fault, yes, but did he really have to bring it up all the time? A poisonous look went into his back, but to no avail; he continued to blithely chat with the Konti healer, who appeared to be unwisely close to touching the remnants of the wards carved deep into the wall. It probably wouldn’t do too much harm – certainly nothing permanent, just a nasty djed-shock if the remnants discharged into her – and most of the glow was due to the calias phosphorescence, but Licearsvan’s advice was good, sound instruction nonetheless.

Correcting him would have been…petty.

No time for that; Lhex and Tanroa stood vigil over the only possible way to go, a beautiful relic of surpassing complexity and craftsmanship, framing an archway where a door long since rotted to fine gray dust and the occasional rusted stub of nail had once proudly hung. “What we’d not give to transport this back to Lhavit,” she murmured, redly light-limned fingers reaching out to almost – almost – but not quite – touch the two penitent figures guarding the portal.

Lord of Fate on one side, Lady of Time on the other, two of the greatest gods to grace Mizahar, standing vigil over a vast chasm gashed into the land itself, a scar even older than the Valterrian.

Alses bowed her head in respect as she crossed the threshold, and her sensitive senses caught Zeran’s heartfelt and serious – for once – utterance. “That they do,” she murmured in reply. “Honour to you, Lhex, Weaver of the Fates and Doorkeeper to all possibility. Praise to you, Tanroa, Time Lady and Panoptic Queen.” They were old words, ancient paeans, dredged up from some ur-memory far in the past, the taste of it in her mouth crackling and dry like old parchment and libraries where the slow rot of books was winning over cleaning and preserving fluid.

Her auristics had turned the tomb walls into ephemeral shadows, and she’d felt the falling-away of the cavern sides into the abyss, a long expanse where the only auras were the wavering suggestions of the air itself – moving ever-so-slightly on some unknowable current from the depths – and the damnable, indefinable burgundy shimmer of…well…something.

Even so, knowing in the head that a vast ravine lay around the corner and actually being able to see it were two entirely different things, and in the event the sight of it took her breath away, even in the stygian gloom that made it difficult – at best – to see any details, to discern the depth. All she could say with any certainty is that they were near the top of the great cavern, on a slender, arched bridge of finely-cut stone that spanned the fathomless gap without railing or rope to protect those it might once have conveyed.

‘That,’ her mind reminded her, ‘Or it’s all rotted away with the aeons.’

Alses insinuated herself through the group with care, making sure not to step on any toes – metaphorically or literally, since neither would endear her to them. “Lady Jenni,” she murmured, the correct form of address springing easily to her lips as they beheld the choice available at the end of the high bridge.

‘Thank Syna we don’t suffer from vertigo,’ her thoughts chimed fervently, even as she opened her mouth and said: “We note you carry writing paraphernalia. If you can spare me the use of a quill or a brush and ink, I’d be grateful.”

“Auristics won’t give us actual, physical sight down these tunnels,” Alses continued, voice slipping into an instructor’s measured cadences as she answered the girl's speculations. “But we could still sense magical or mechanical devices at a reasonable range, and perhaps understand something of the structure of the rooms beyond.” A shrug.

“Is there any particular, pressing impediment to exploring all of them?” Alses asked quietly. “With Licearsvansan’s Stars, my glyphery and auristics, and Shara’s scent, we could find our way back here after exploring each tunnel in turn.” A faint, disinterested smile – Alses had forgotten, or rather, refused to think about on the most fundamental of levels – that she’d have to eat sooner or later, down here and far from the life-giving light Syna. “The only restraint on our exploration and cataloguing would be the food supply.”

“That said, we agree with Zeran’s suggestion, if Opheria and Marina are amenable? It would give me time to glyph myself more thoroughly and further bolster my talents.”

Alses turned to Shara and leaned in slightly, only a light blush tinting her cheeks as she beheld the shapely curves beneath the mantling cloak. ‘Focus, Alse!’ her brain snapped, triggering a quick question from her mouth, to cover the momentary lapse.

“We suppose our trailblazer’s scent goes over the gap?”

Carefully – mindful of the sheer drop on one side – Alses bent down to scrabble on the floor of the terminal pathway for a long moment, blood-lit fingertips probing for any loose bit of rubble or shard of rock that might fall easily to hand. Fortunately, the earthquake had shaken loose plenty of small debris, and soon a pebble was arcing its way into space, heading right for the surgical slice that had been taken out of the walkway, blocking easy access to the third door.

“It could be an illusion,” Alses remarked, apropos of nothing very much, sharp eyes flawlessly tracking the arc of the pebble as it rose and fell in a perfect parabola.

[Marina Agamand]

OOCWell, there are bombards. So... Sir Bombard Fodder?

So, Zeran wanted her to protect him and the others. How touching. Something made Marina skip the deliberation phase and simply obey him. She smiled brightly again, offering reassurance. "Absolutely. Each here shall witness my valiant, but ultimately futile, attempts to rescue your thrashing and screaming self from the jaws of the horrible monsters. I hope that lady Twilight will make a riveting historical record about it." Although her words were pure mockery, they were not dishonest. Her influence on the physical world was so insignificant that she would not be able to make any kind of difference, be it in combat, a cave-in or any other turmoil. She was aware of it, but it didn't cause her any discomfort, though that was certainly less true for people who were silly enough to depend on her. When told that she was a part of the group, the spectre raised her hands in denial, making a dramatical gesture. "Me? Oh, no. I am not worthy." The insincere tone of her voice gave away that she said that only because she had no intention to shoulder the implied responsibilities. So, the mysterious guardian of the tomb targeted those with an impure heart? Now that there, was a truly airtight defense. Everyone was driven by selfishness to some degree, and regardless of how altruistic a person considered themselves, self-interest was still the core component of every sapient being. Rendering good unto others was merely another way of self-promotion, though usually only on a subconscious level. This was a rather cynical way to describe human nature, but it was not inaccurate. If the unspeakable monster lurking in the depths of this catacomb could target every shred of moral impurity in someone, no one save certain low-level golems would be able to walk out of here in one piece. If Alses' analysis was correct, said unspeakable monster might as well be the cavern itself - one couldn't ask Marina to explain the details, but she was not unaware that a "living place" was fully possible to create with magic, especially with the comparably vast and well-organised pre-Valterrian knowledge at one's disposal. Although Zeran's suggestion to accompany the Shinya was constructive, the spectre didn't enjoy the notion of having to watch Opheria's back. These people had no idea how unreliable a bodyguard Marina was, and relying on her in that capacity was a big mistake. She saw the female warrior more as a rival than a companion, someone who could snatch the privilege of first laying eyes on the secrets of this place. And it wasn't something she'd easily allow to happen. No, without a doubt, Marina was the most egoistic creature in this cave, any lurking monsters included. One beautiful day, that would probably be the spectre's downfall, her semi-invincible immaterial nature notwithstanding. And that day might as well have been today. But that wasn't going to stop the creature. During her century spent as a ghost, she had mindlessly thrown herself at danger multiple times, and emerged unscathed from beyond the piles of corpses of the less fortunate. Any common sense and drive for self-preservation she once had were long suppressed and overshadowed by the phantom's hubris. An elaborate arch came into sight, decorated by depictions of the two elder gods. Marina stopped to gaze at it silently for a few moments. Some in the group showed their reverence to these considerable deities overtly, but the spectre felt no such need. Alses and Zeran hadn't stated anything that wasn't already plainly obvious, and the spectre doubted that she needed to express her respect verbally for it to reach the unfathomable gods. Besides, the gods would hardy care about the opinion of a non-being such as her. The cavern beyond the archway looked like an intersection. What was beyond the three exists was impossible to determine at a glance. There could be more chambers, or perhaps even a labyrinth. While the group discussed how they could scry those directions without putting themselves in unreasonable danger, the phantom peered into the void below. It appeared bottomless, and the pebble thrown by Alses didn't make a sound as it was swallowed by the darkness. Marina played with the thought that it might be interesting to descend there sometime, to a place off-limits to virtually anyone but ghosts and master projectionists. It was not her first time seeing a drop-off like this; though she never got around to diving into one. These blind spots of Mizahar could be containing some truly wondrous things, hidden away from mortals by the gods. Or perhaps they were just empty. It was definitely something worth confirming, however, and the wraith made a mental note to return here. One of the walkways was damaged, as if cut by a massive force. It could mean one of three things: one, someone wanted to warn later visitors not to go that way. Two, someone wanted to block that passage so that later visitors wouldn't be able to cross. Three, the hole in the walkway was merely collateral damage from a battle. Option three seemed unlikely, if only for the reason that the rest of the chamber was in relatively good shape, with no obvious physical scars on the stone walls and ceilings, nor the flawless archways. Marina noticed the chestnut-haired man's attention was apparently drawn to the right-hand walkway as well, making a comment and preparing the rope he carried. His movements were confident, as if he was certain that he'd be able to cross the gap with just a length of piddly wire for assistance. Whoever could have wanted to block off the right-side entrance did a rather poor job, considering that the hole in the bridge could only serve to slightly delay a decently equipped human, and was not even an obstacle for anything airborne. So, option two didn't seem plausible either. That left option one. Someone probably made a last, desperate effort to stop stupid adventurers from going to meet their doom. Or perhaps it was actually a distraction; since the damaged walkway was so eye-catching, it could clearly have been made so to divert visitors' attention from the other two archways. Speculating about it wouln't help much, and unlike everyone else, the phantom wasn't the least bit concerned with finding a safe method of exploration. For Marina, warnings existed only to be ignored. She was going to throw herself at the unknown, if only as a gesture of defiance. Ignoring the narrow walkways completely, the spectre's flickering image slid across the yawning abyss, still moving its legs as if it was walking on a solid surface. "Well then, lady Opheria. Please join me at your convenience." Her arrogant tone was highly unfitting for a weak monster that was talking to a powerful heroine. It should have proven unproblematic for the Shinya to beat that challenge if her projection skills were as refined as Zeran predicted. Naturally, the ghost veered towards the archway on the right, where the walkway was damaged. If anything, this was an opportunity to investigate that room before the living prepared their clumsy methods of getting across the gap. Without waiting for the Shinya, the spectre slipped through the archway and into whatever was beyond.

[Iosha]

When Iosha heard Svan warn her about the glyphs, and the konti made a face and recoiled her hand from the glowing shapes. Turning around to face him, Iosha blushed with embarrassment and said with a laugh, “Yes, I think you are right, Svan. I sometimes wonder if one of my past lives were a fish because when I tend to see something shiny and glowing my first instinct is to touch it.” Untying the string glowing string from her wrist, Iosha tied her white hair back in a pony tail with it and said with half grin, “Maybe I need to learn how to control my fishy instincts.” Soon after his warning, he promised to meet up with her again after their quest was finished. She nodded and said softly, “Looking forward to it, Svan.” When he turned around to speak to Alse, she noticed they had a special connection even though he spent most of the time teasing her or being passive aggressive. She decided it wasn't her business to get involved in their relationship since she is a newcomer to the city. Iosha drifted away from the two of them.

When they left the chamber, Iosha decided to stay closer to the Shinya since they seemed to know a little bit more than the rest of the companions. Besides, she knew nothing of the history of the ancient history of the city, and it would be a great opportunity to learn. When Opheria stop and said something about Nander-conch wards, and Iosha not knowing the significant of nander-couch decided to ask the Opheria, “Opheria, I haven't been in this land or city for long, but what is the nander-counch, and how is it significant to are current situation?” After Opheria shot a glance to Alse, Iosha was started to wonder what secrets the Shinya and the Eth were keeping from the group. Putting in the back of her mind for now, she crossed her arms under her breasts and listened to the group converse about their situation. Iosha could tell the kelvic Shara was annoyed at the man called Zeran, and she wasn't afraid to show her dislike for him either. Looking at Zeran, she remembered him mentioning that he was a practitioner in the arcane arts of hypnotism and projection. Treating patients of over giving before, She figure the man's magical talents were putting unnecessary strain on his mind. It would explain his erratic behavior and lack of focus was a clear sign over giving. The konti knew she needed to keep a eye on him because his behavior could jeopardize the safety of the whole group.

Iosha attention went to Alse, and her analysis of the whole situation. She explained her situation and the way she felt about her city and herself. The konti smiled Alse at introspective and knew the woman understood place in society and her desires. When she explained the situation about the strange cavern, Iosha started put the pieces together and compared it to a person's body in her mind. When Alse was finished, the konti decided to chime in to the conversation, “When I was listening to Alse's analysis, I started to compare the symptoms Alse told to a living body.” Iosha looked around to see if she got the groups attention and continued her thought, “What if we are walking into a magical machine that has gone hay-wire because our Trailblazer or someone else as started to tamper with it. I know from studying in the Medical Library in Mura that if you remove a vital organ like the heart. The whole body will die without the vital organ.” Iosha licked her lips to collect her thoughts and continued, “Now compare it to our machine, if you remove a certain vital part or organ, the machine stops working. It could be the reason for earthquakes. It would be like a body going into shock.” Putting a stray lock of hair behind her ear, she said to the group, “Since Alse gave her introspective on the situation, I just wanted to say. I really have nothing to gain from the Power that could be or not down here. If we find it, I think we should let the governing powers of the city decide the fate of the Power. Honestly, I came down here to search for survivors and keep the expedition party healthy enough to find the source of the earthquakes and stop them, so I can get back to work treating my patients without the fear of something falling on my head.”

When Zeran started to talk to the group, she started to feel slightly dizzy with each word uttered from his mouth. Especially, the point about talking to him nicely and treating him with respect. The feeling was overwhelming and a part of her wanted to surrender to his words, but another part of her didn't want to be made to be nice to him. Eventually, Zeran's words left her mind, and when she came back to reality, she found herself holding her head trying to fight vertigo left from the effects of his words. Iosha looked up at the group of wizards, and she was shocked to see none of them thought it was strange that he just used his magic on them. In fact, they shrugged it off like a cold breeze in winter. The konti knew Lhavit was going to be much different than Wind Reach, so she needed to get used to magic being used on a regular bases. However, she knew from experience with the hypnotist in Wind Reach mind control could be a dangerous thing, so when the group started moving again after, Iosha decided to walk next to hypnotist and asked softly, “I don't think I properly introduced my self to you yet. My name is Iosha. What is you name?”

After he answered her first question, the konti looked over at the man and asked bluntly, “Tell me when you were speaking in the group. Were you using any magic on us?” Iosha had prior history with hypnotism in Wind Reach, so she knew the answer to her question, but she wanted him to admit it. The konti blew a lock of her white hair from her face and said with a smile on her face, “I hope you know that you can solve most problems without resorting to magic. It just something to think about before putting your health or your mind in jeopardy.”

When the party left the room, Iosha mouth just dropped as soon as she walked through the archway. The stone hallway gave way to a cat way over a vast almost bottomless cavern. The cat way was large enough for a person to cross, but it seemed to have no railing to guard from falling. The konti grin on her face started to get wider because this was turning into a adventure in a story book. She started to make sure everything on her was secure while she started to listen to the group discuss their plan of attack. Suddenly, she saw Svan point to the damage cat-way and ask a question about about the potential horror on the other side. Walking up next to him, Iosha looked over at him and said plainly, “Well, if I was super powerful wizard of old, I would put the most fearsome and deadliest beast on easiest path, so when the party picks the safest route. They would be the first ones to be eaten since they played it safe.” The konti knew he was trying to mask his nervousness with humor, so she said playfully with a smile, “Svan, you are way to pessimistic about the whole situation. Yes, we could all fall to our doom when we step onto the damaged cat way, but think of the stories, you could tell your children about braving the bottomless pit with just the light of your magic string to guide you.”

Iosha overheard Alse's plan and said softly with a shake of her head, “I don't think food will be a problem since I have a weeks worth a rations in my backpack, and you don't need to worry about water either because I can create water for you with my reimancy along with fire, so if you want a warm cup of tea, I can assist you with it too.”

[Elysium]

Opheria glared daggers at the young hypnotist, fingernails digging into the flesh of her palms. ”Watch yourself,” she threatened, cracking a single set of knuckles. Shara simply smiled without mirth. ”Now, now,” she replied. ”Let the boy have his fun. He is Ser Catapult Fodder, after all.” The other woman simply looked upon Shara in disbelief. There was an invasive stab of turquoise throughout the woman’s essence – incredulity mingled with familiarity – and then it was gone, back to the unyielding expanse of navy that it’d been before. ”Moving on, I’d say that we have two valid plans of action. Potentially, we can allow Alses to glyph herself –“ there was a pause, rose and violet rippling through the surface of her aura, ”in order to provide a basic layout. Then, we’d send our friendly neighborhood apparition or Opheria here on ahead.” By the end of her it, her cheeks were just slightly pink. She’d noticed. ”I do believe our spirit is running on ahead,” Opheria reported with a tired expression. Shara whirled on her heel, golden eyes suddenly furious. ”Come back here! We have to –“ but before she could even finish her sentence, the ghost crossed over into the next room, and all hell broke loose. The next room could only be defined as an ancient columbarium. Row upon row of shattered urns decorated the devastated walls. The whole place was demolished, a great aperture running from one end to the next, leading to the chasm below. There was a huge pile of stone just beyond the entryway with a fleshy appendage jutting from the side. This all could only be processed in mere seconds, as a low growl split the cavern in two. It was the deafening sound of shifting rock and worse. ”Get down!” Shara cried, pulling Alses and Jenni alongside. Opheria followed suit, throwing out a projected arm to help shield the rest. The rock began to crumble, both above and below, like a great hammer flailing from side to side. ”Move!” The Shinya cried, feeling their walkway begin to give. Meanwhile, the room to the right was nothing but a haze of dust and debris. Urns shattered, the rift grew and the catwalk on the right utterly collapsed. It was as if an invisible giant were throwing a tantrum, beating hammy fists hither and yon, destroying all that could be seen. It wasn’t possible to direct their momentum anywhere but forward. Shara took off at a sprint with the girls in tow, while Opheria swung her astral arms to deflect the falling rock as they raced to the opposing side of the cavern. The rock was splintering beneath them; going left would prove fatal and there was no right any longer. The last of them made it over the threshold just at the platform totally gave into the yawning darkness below. The room they now stood in was pitch black, no longer graced with the previous phosphorescent. For a moment, all that was heard was the pounding of heartbeats. ”Can someone strike a match?” Shara said, head in her hands, cloak utterly destroyed. A large gash wept at her forehead and another across her palm, where she’d shielded Jenni from a particularly nasty boulder. Opheria heaved. ”Here,” she said breathlessly. The tiny flame illuminated an impossibly vast room, seemingly untouched by the previous quake. ”What the petch…?” It was adorned with the same architecture at the room on the right, though of that they weren’t aware. It too, housed urns, though it had a most interesting feature – a set of stairs running into the wall and spiraling down. ”Gods above,” the Kelvic breathed.