Quest [Fall Quest] Descension

[Jenni Twilight]

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Jenni watched the ghost leave on her journey with a raised eyebrow and a little disbelief. The specter was even more full of herself then the Twilight herself was! That was a surprise, to say the least... Snorting, she returned her attentions to the conversation at hand, about to hand Alses her charcoal, before...

A massive noise ran through the room, the sound of... rock. Moving rock. Considering they were underground, that was bad. The morpher was already half ducking when Shara pulled her down, and she attempted to cover her head with her arms. Rock began to move, and the right path crumbled into nothing, disappearing into the dark abyss below. Things were really not feeling normal. Not normal at all. As things began to fall apart, she felt the Kelvic begin to drag her forward and followed blindly, too scared to do anything else.

It occurred to her only moments later that her arms would hurt less from the pelting stones if she made the skin at the top harder. It wasn't anything she'd done before, and with no model... still, she tried to work as fast as possible, ignoring any possible overgiving. She pulled at the djed in her forearms, trying to stiffen and toughen the stuff so it would resist any damage. Her feet pounding on the ground, and the rocks smacking her all over drowned into oblivion, and all the morpher's attention went into her arms. When a particularly sharp stone struck a seemingly weak point, Jenni felt the stiffness falter and snap back into her normal skin. Quickly, she forced it back, harder and more obvious than last time. She could now feel the rocks simply bouncing off the sections of skin she'd protected, before hopping away onto the crumbling ground.

Soon enough they stopped, and the Twilight brought herself out of the stupor she'd created in concentration. She glanced up to see... nothing. Pitch darkness. She started to pull at her eyes to reflect Crooks, and be able to see in this blackness, but stopped as soon as she'd started. She'd already wasted enough effort on her arms, and even cats couldn't see without any light at all. Lastly... Opheria had already created a tiny flame, lighting the massive room.

Jenni stared around, amazed at what she saw. It was huge, full of countless urns, and an odd style of architecture she didn't recognize... but she couldn't identify architecture anyways, so that thought was useless. The interesting part was the... stairs. A set of spiral stairs heading down, deep below the cavern they sat in now. It was impressive, and a little... scary... Shuddering, the Twilight hunched on the ground, taking check of what had happened.

Her heart and head were pounding from all the running, and she was a little out of breath from the exercise... she wasn't exactly 'fit'. She had several cuts and scrapes, but, luckily enough, none too bad on her head. Shara had a nasty one on her forehead and palm, which made the scholar wince in sympathy. That must have hurt. The more important fact she noticed was her arms. Tapping the skin at the top, she swore under her breath. It was hard... and not going back. She'd overgiven. It would be useful, maybe, and not as obvious as cat hair all over her arms, but still... it was annoying.

Sighing and standing up, she scanned the room, trying to think. She wandered over to one of the urns, and tapped it, craning to see inside, before inspecting the passage where they'd entered from. Plain black. Nothing there, no catwalk... nothing. Just that deep pit. It was a more than a little disturbing. She hadn't exactly signed up for this, but... they were stuck her now, and might as well find out as much information as possible... right?

She focused on the stairs, gazing at what she could make out of them from afar, but didn't move too far from the group. She didn't want to get lost or anything... though getting lost in this room would be nearly impossible. Sighing, she scratched her head with a finger, feeling sore all over. ”I guess the only way is the stairs?" She tapped her fingers absently on her book, the thing still clutched tightly in her left hand. It was covered with dents from the rock fall, but the sturdy leather had done a decent job of protection... it was alive. And she hadn't lost it, another miracle.

Common - Nari/Crook - NPC - Writing - Reading

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[Alses]

The pebble continued its arc downwards into the abyssal depths. “Not an illusion, then,” Alses remarked, voice neutral. It had been a long shot more than anything; being proved incorrect wasn’t too much of a blow.

Methodical planning, that was what would see them safely through this gloomy world, this relic of past empires – Alses was glad to hear sense, perfect and pure, pouring from the Shinya and Shara. The two of them were comfortable with one another, familiar – that was easy to see even without auristics, in the relaxation of their bodies and the easy conversation rippling between the two of them; two minds in sync, working on the same wavelength, each understanding the other’s perspective.

There was hope, then, with steady and intelligent hands at the tiller.

That, of course, reckoned without the influences of a wayward spirit and an…well, what was the word for someone like Zeran? Eccentric, that’d have to do – although his particular stripe of it wasn’t in quite the same vein as Elena Lariat’s particular brand.

Thank Syna.

Seeming to encourage one another, to egg themselves on to greater acts of taunting idiocy, the two of them rapidly chose a portal and blithely wandered in, oblivious and uncaring to the manifold dangers that could so easily have been lurking just around the corner.

This – and its dangers – were not lost on their Shinya shadow, although she now seemed more resigned than anything. Perhaps she was simply being fatalistic, waiting for the inevitable to take care of Zeran and Marina and ease the group’s passage through the strange catacomb-like place in which they found themselves.

Shara, for all her earlier indulgence of his antics, though, was furious – those golden lupine eyes took angry flame as she barked – and it was, very definitely, a bark, with just a hint of rolling growl at the end of it – for their two wayward explorers to return to the safety and sanity of the main group.

Too late.

Alses saw the convulsions beginning the instant Marina drifted over the threshold, watching in mounting horror the vengeful burgundy flare in the ceiling and walls, the sickly tearing of an already-damaged djed network ripping itself into even smaller, more fragmentary pieces and the onrushing wave of physical effects that were a deadly corollary to the actions on the numinous plane.

‘Some kind of defence?’ she thought, suddenly, noticing the precise rockfall just by the entrance and, more worryingly, the pale, fleshy thing sticking forlornly and at strange angles out of the pile of rubble.

Her eyes drank it in, her mind took a few precious ticks to actually process it – but by that time, the colonnaded chamber was in its death throes, the chasm widening further, pillars and urns fracturing into a million blizzarding shards of rock even as they tumbled into the widening abyss and whatever broken sentience was driving the complex did its level, confused best to bring the ceiling down on top of them all.

Unyielding force yanked her arm even as confusion and concern rose like smoke in her mind, destroying rational thought, the harsh grasp toppling her heavily forward and down to the accompaniment – never so welcome – of Shara’s most peremptory, panicked tones. Together with Jenni and Opheria, safe from the initial bombardment, they ran pell-mell through the tumbling maze of a half-destroyed room, the bright flare of magic keeping them more-or-less safe even as the catwalk to the right of them collapsed in a shower of tumbled masonry and tortured rock and the walkway under their very feet began to collect its own, unnerving spiderweb of rapidly-growing fractures, preparing to give way itself into the yawning chasm that was biting its way deeper and deeper into the new room.

The darkness was welcoming, of all things, marking a threshold beyond which burgundy fury didn’t viciously coruscate, a place where the groaning shriek of rock under unnatural stress died away and all that remained were curtains of tumbling dust, filling the air.

Alses coughed ferociously, the sound being swallowed up by the inky vastness of the chamber they now found themselves in. Released from immediate, visible danger – and therefore from the vice-like grip of bowel-knotting terror – her brain began to take stock, to assess and probe and consider the situation it now found itself in.

A thousand small aches and pains – scrapes from the falling rock and their helter-skelter flight – clamoured insistently for her attention, but the main thing was the dark, insistent and close and velvety against her skin, cloying and blocking her sight.

Black nothingness – the glowing red star-stuff she’d tied into her horns hadn’t fared well under the barrage of flying rock chips – the yawning abyss, far from Syna’ light, a terrifying prospect. To her shame, the cloying dark brought a death-rattle groan of dismay from the depths of her soul, rattling her teeth with its passage before the perfidious dust, remnants of the orgy of destruction just concluded scant metres from where they now lay, staged a counteroffensive, sending her into paroxysms of coughing interspersed with a spluttered entreaty to Syna for light - any light.

Mounting panic fuelled magic; her Sight exploded into numinous brilliance in compensation for the physical night, her own brain creating a spangled panoply of light and colour that calmed her, quieted the raging panic and allowed rational thought to triumph over withdrawing madness. As a side-effect, she began to be able to discern something of the structure of the vast chamber they found themselves in, the gentle singing of the auras, the shifting change in their subtlest extremities telling her about the scalloped niches and pillars that ranged across the walls, the vaulting of the ceiling high overhead and the vast, sucking emptiness of the middle of the cavern.

A subdued request for a match, for someone to bring radiance – proper, physical radiance, not the blazing numinous glow of auristics – brought her back to the present, the here-and-now. With it, came the insistent clamour of a spray of minor injuries; cuts, scrapes, grazes and the like.

Well. There was a solution for that at least.

True-blue light blazed for an instant, flickering across her skin, dancing gleefully around scratches and scrapes and closing them, sealing up gently-oozing cuts as though they’d never been and healing bruised, battered fire-opal skin back to serene gem-like shades. Vaguely, Alses gestured, eyes still adjusting to the new light that Opheria had conjured. “Anyone else?” she offered, slightly fuzzy. “There’s a lesson in overconfidence,” she murmured, shaking her head to clear it of an insistent ringing, and then collected herself a little more.

“Everyone all right?” she called, louder. A slightly shaky smile, turning towards Opheria and the light, magnetically drawn to it. “At least we don’t have to worry about our trailblazer any more. The ceiling came down on him, did you see? Nasty way to go, in this sunless place.”

A shiver, slow and unstoppable, rolled over her body at the thought and she paled slightly, cursing herself for thinking about it. Shara had been hurt; Alses reached out a hand instinctively, Tanroa’s Blessing already sparkling at her fingertips, and then thought better of it. It would be a better idea, she reasoned, to let the healer look at it, to let her clean it and heal it and do whatever it was the marked of Rak’keli did. “Stairs it seems to be,” she replied to Jenni, voice purposefully light and jaunty and relieved that she’d survived, presumably relatively unscathed. “We can sense no other exits – usable exits – from…well, whatever this room is actually supposed to be.”

Alses now felt strong enough to stand and brush herself off, sending cascades of dust and rock splinters to the smooth floor with an echoing clatter. She patted herself down, checking that all the important things were still there – personal notebook, carried out of habit, and a few other knick-knacks, her heavy gold signet ring reassuringly weighty on her little finger and her mystery mirror, throbbing with absorbed djed and with a function as obscured as ever. It had become habit to carry it around; one never knew when inspiration, or the opportunity to consult a learned someone about it, might arise, after all. It was small enough not to be a burden, in any case.

Moving carefully, stepping with exaggerated care, she made her way across to Jenni, every sense alert and ready to scream at the first sign of danger, alarm bells jangling in readiness inside her brain.

‘She who flees stays alive, her brain murmured, a subliminal litany bouncing from one side to the other. Preservation of her own eternal skin, that was the key.

“What do you suppose all these pots were for?” she asked, voice quiet in the temple-hush of the chamber.

[Marina Agamand]

Although the doorway semed unobstructed, the spectre met a resisting force as she tried to cross the treshold into the room beyond, as if an invisible barrier was preventing her from passing. It was different from boundaries created by spiritists in that it was elastic, allowing her to press further with effort. Refusing to take the hint, the little phantom gave an annoyed grunt and stretched her hands in front of her, pushing into the soft, invisible wall with what limited force her soulmist could muster. With surprising ease, the barrier bent inward, popping soundlessly after only a second. Feeling the resistance vanish, the ghost was about to make a snarky comment about how poorly warded this place was, but her thoughts were interrupted by the sudden rumble of rock, alongside a low growl, as if belonging to a creature. Were she alive, Marina would jump back instinctively to protect herself. Instead, she simply stared deeper into the room, trying to discern where the sounds were coming from. The room was obviously meant to store urns, whatever those urns may have contained, but it was rather damaged, with shattered clay, stone debris and fissures everywhere. The culprit must have been the same as the one responsible for the crushed walkway outside. However, what caught the apparition's attention was the organic appendage sticking out of the rubble; it was clearly out of place. Before she could move in and investigate, the girl's view was obscured by a cloud of dust. Turning around to the walkway chamber, she was surprised to see the the destruction going on, and observed in idle amusement how the fearless group scrambled to escape the collapsing catwalk. Just recently, she had promised Zeran to help them when they were in need, but the spectre didn't feel the urgency of the situation at all, and so simply watched until the chaotic veil of dust completely hid the chamber, and those in it, from her view. The dust didn't sting her lungs and eyes, the sharp stones didn't cut her skin, the tremors of the cavern didn't budge her body. Like always, the surrounding world was just a slideshow on a screen to the phantom. If anything, she was just happy to coax some soft of reaction out of this tomb. Her satisfied, complacent laughter was drowned out by the crashing of the rocks, which probably a good thing, since the female Shinya would probably seek to harm her if she heard it. Patiently waiting for the dust to settle, Marina looked around to assess the situation. The now unbridged, gaping void and the silence that fell upon it were telling that this expedition may have been concluded a bit too early. Throwing up her arms in a theatrical gesture, the spectre berated the gone group, her voice sounding almost offended. "O, brave adventurers, this end is not climatic enough! How can you betray my expectations so?" The ghost planned to throw around a few more angry words and then leave this place, since she wasn't an explorer herself and only enjoyed observing the perils of true adventurers from the sidelines. But before the could make any further comment, a weak light seeping out of the doorway on her right caught her attention, accompanied by quiet, familiar voices. Realising that she had underestimated the tough bunch, Marina's enthusiasm returned immediately. Interestingly enough, they had the nerve to run forwards instead of backwards when the walkway began to give. The decision to throw themselves deeper into the unscouted catacomb with their way back cut off was rather audacious. Calling Marina reckless after that would be plain hypocricy. Still, it didn't change the fact that the ghost's meddling has potentially caused the group to be permanently stuck here, unless there was an exit somewhere else, which would be strange considering that the path has brought them further and further down so far. Hovering above the chasm just outside of the entrance to the right room, the ghost couldn't see inside of the far chamber from her angle, and couldn't make out what the hushed voices were saying. She didn't feel bothered enough to go check, though. Since none of the voices coming from that room sounded too struck with grief, Marina simply assumed that everyone was fine and dandy. She could always catch up with them later, or failing that, return to the surface. For now, her primary point of interest was the fleshy appendage she caught a glimpse of earlier. Just from that, it was impossible to tell whether the creature was alive, or even what kind of creature it was. The spectre returned to the right room to inspect the damage. most of the floor was gone, with only broken urn pieces littering the borders of the huge hole in the middle of the chamber. The pile of rocks with the meaty thing was nowhere to be seen. Did it fall into the expanded fracture? Marina swept her foot across an intact section of the floor, causing scraping sounds to echo weakly as the shattered clay slid across the stone surface. The urns didn't seem to have had any tangible contents besides fine gray dust. It made sense, since the kelvic mentioned this to be a tomb, so these must have been burial urns. Logical, but boring, unless there was something the spectre missed, which was likely enough considering how unobservant she was. Somewhat disappointed, Marina left the room and headed to check the room on the left, relaxedly "walking" across the chasm. She stuck her hand through the doorway to test whether there was a barrier here too. Her hand met no resistance so that wasn't the case. Either this room was unprotected to begin with, or the previous episode depleted all of the wards around the chamber. The perfectionist spectre wanted to make sure that nothing interesting was in here, as well, before joining the lucky survivors.

[Zeran]

Zeran's eyes twisted in their sockets, craning to get a look at the Konti woman pulling up alongside him, as they both kept pace with the group. Pale skin, embellished with scales shifting through shades of green as the light hit it from different angles. She didn't look to be much of a fighter, despite being well equipped, but he knew better than to take first impressions as an accurate representation of what a person was truly like. She could probably have his head rolling along the floor before he would see the glint of her sword for all he knew. Eyes faced forwards once more, as the Konti introduced herself as Iosha. "You did a good job of introducing yourself to the group, but not to me in particular, no." He spoke as if reminding her. No condescension, or spite. Just a plain statement of fact. "Though I don't believe you're stupid enough to not already have picked up on my name. It's been shouted enough times already, and is likely to be used a lot more." He chuckled, the thought of a scolding being funny. "On the off chance you are, and may Lhex and Tanroa help us if our healer is, I'm Zeran." Two fingers touched his forehead as he tipped it in greeting. "A pleasure to meet you Lady Iosha." Quick with her questions, Zeran laughed aloud as she got to the true reason behind her personal introduction. "Straight to the point, eh? I like that! Doesn't leave any shrouds of uncertainty for me to get confused in. Some always get upset when I can't decipher the true meaning of their words based in tone and winks alone." Zeran turned to face her, still walking forwards, paying extra attention to his steps. "And yes," he replied with sheer honesty. "On each and every one of you. Well done for noticing, though the effects of Hypnosis take a hit once you're known to be a Hypnotist... Perhaps I shouldn't have outright announced myself when Alses asked? Damn it. Ah well! Just a learning curve!" He smiled at her, borderline friendly and discouraging, as he turned forwards again. It was charming to hear her concern for his well-being, though it was probably from a medical standpoint more than anything. Whether it was or not, it was always nice to know she was looking out for him. He'd be allowed to be a little more investigative, without much fear of wounds accumulating. "I'm aware," he said plainly. "It's just my way is quicker and more fun. For example, I know you're mentally able enough to know when you're being hypnotised, Lady Opheria over there," he gestured to the Shinya further out in front, "is very quick to start threatening like a thug, and Lady Shara," his finger swapped to her direction, "seems to take a more diplomatic approach when immediate force is not called for." His cane swapped hands, as the newly freed one reached around and pulled Iosha in to him, patting her arm as he did so. "Though I really do appreciate the thought, make no mistake about it Lady Iosha. But what is the point of an adventure if you can't have a little fun?" The words twisted and rolled on his tongue as they left his mouth, empowered with minor djed influence. One target was easier to control than many, and the slight excitement the words brought Iosha were just as easily countered by the apprehension that accompanied them also. Very few were always set for or against something. The internal conflict of wanting, but being wary of it, usually made an emotional response more believable. It was now down to if Iosha was a 'mind-set' type of person, or 'pros-and-risks' type that would determine how she'd take the conditioning. "I always try to enjoy myself, regardless the situation." Zeran remained relatively silent for the next few chimes, only offering his thoughts when he felt they were worth considering, but mostly listening to the Shinya and Kelvic duo deciding the next course of action. Shara definitely didn't like it when one 'neighbourhood apparition' took a decision into her own hands and made the first move, rather than wait another moment listening to options. The earth above took a sudden yawn, echoing through the chasm as its voice permeated the walls, walkway and adventurers. The cave seemed tired of their presence, moving through what had been undisturbed for extended lengths of Tanroa's time, only to be disturbed by a haphazard wanderer, and then a group of eight explorers coming to poke further in. It had had enough, and it wanted them gone. Zeran released his knees at Shara's command, allowing himself to drop to the wakway, throwing his arms over his head as he went down. Rock liquefied as it changed from a solid mass to dust and stones, raining down on the room and its occupants like arrows released from the bow. More simply fell into the void below, missing their targets completely, but the sentiment went unnoticed as enough still pelted the walkway. Another roar brought his knees to his chest, as Zeran responded to Opheria's command, kicking off from the ground to follow the fleeing group. Stones of all sizes and roughness did well in their target practice, hitting legs, arms and back all too frequently. Zeran dared a glance upwards, to see the havoc taking place above their heads, only to have his sight blocked by an incoming rock. The cane came up, both hands gripping slightly inwards from each edge. The rock caught the cane, forcing his arms downwards before the momentum could be directed away. The first of many scars the cane sword was likely to receive in its life, but it had reduced a concussion to bleeding knuckles, where the rock had fallen awkwardly and scraped his hand on its journey. The move had cost valuable time, and the walkway was making it clear it had no intentions of letting the crime go unpunished. The battering from the stone above was taking its toll on the stone beneath their feet, as it began to crack and splinter as ice atop a frozen lake. Shards moved beneath steps as the walkway continued to crumble to dust, testing the groups stamina against the dial. His feet never fully touched the stone anymore, as Zeran sprung from step to step, skipping across the separating stonework. Springing gave him the extra burst of speed, whilst using less stamina, than bringing his foot down hard. It wasn't something he felt comfortable doing, but it was easier to use when he only needed to go straight. The floor didn't look like it could do with another object pounding against it either. One more glance was met with a rock right on the bridge of his nose, hearing something crunch at the impact. Zeran's speed faltered, before tucking his head down and carrying on. What else could he do? Submit to the will of the ruins and fall? Love him or hate him, I don't intend to meet Lhex just yet. A blackness enveloped his sight, tripping over the air as he felt the walkway leave him and fall into safety. Zeran rested on the floor, breathing heavily, and laughing lightly. The adrenaline rush continued to pump through him, as his heartbeats kicked into overdrive, sending his vision swirling. Even in the darkness, he knew that was what it was doing somehow. "On the upside, at least we had the our minds made up for us." Light brought the new room to life, also confirming Zeran's suspicions of swirling vision. The decision to stay where he was a little longer was not a difficult one to make. Some of the others had already began searching the room, as Zeran became aware of a pooling sensation in his nose and seeping over the boundaries. Bringing away a probing hand showed a dark red, shiny liquid. Bringing it to his mouth only solidified the assumption of blood. Taking a rock to the nose would do that to you. Clambering to his feet, Zeran took the time to look around as everyone else was doing. "Burial urns, perhaps?" he answered Alses' open question, replacing the lid of pot he'd acquired, returning it to its home. What they contained was still a mystery. Ash was the obvious answer, but that ash could've easily been any race on Mizahar. It was unlikely the grey dust was going to tell them anything useful about the being before its death, and nothing else in the room looked to be of any further interest, though the shadows still hid parts of the room. The stairs seemed to be their only way out. It was rather daunting when all choice was taken away, but nothing could be done about it, so there was no point getting worked up about it. Lhex was already up to something, and Tanroa was good at revealing his secrets to all eventually. "Well, at least we're all still alive." His words would be about as useful as low-end drugs with so many, carrying feelings of relief and calmness. The last thing needed was someone having a breakdown because they were, essentially, trapped. It could be considered one of the few selfless acts he was entitled to. When people got worried, they started making mistakes. The annoying thing was those mistakes were likely to kill everyone else before worrier. "Except for you Miss Ma-" He briefly glanced around the room, looking for the signs of the glowing ghost, finding nothing but the yellow-orange glow of Opheria's fire. "Anyone seen our ghost?" Attention quickly diverting to the stairs again, Zeran asked, "Are we wanting to leave straight away? Or shall we allow ourselves time to make use of Lady Iosha's skills?" Tasting the blood from his nose on his lips, and the sting of all other cuts, scrapes and bruises, Zeran raised his cane above his head. "I, for one, wouldn't mind being allowed to take up some of her attention before I take another beating please?"

[Elysium]

”Of course,” Shara breathed, laboriously ripping a piece of cloth from her ruined cloak. ”Here. Press this to your nose to staunch the bleeding.” It was apparent she was still regrouping, auric eyes slightly unfocused in the flickering light. She looked to Alses with a shallow smile; her kindness did not go unnoticed. But as the group turned to Iosha, she’d have a blank look upon her alabaster face. The vision was hazy but distinct. There was a boy, no more than eighteen years old, walking through the mists of a coniferous forest, almost certainly the Misty Peaks. He tripped along some gnarled tree roots, nearly sprawling in the mud, when he noticed a darkened area – a passageway, hidden under the knuckle of wood just behind him. This boy smiled. His adventurous spirit urged him on. He descended down a narrow stair, spiraling into darkness with only a tiny flame to light the way – just like Opheria. He often stopped to admire the beautiful markings upon the walls. The feeling of pride, of accomplishment bloomed in his chest. He found this. It was his to uncover. But there was a sense of uncertainty, foreboding. There was a deep rumbling from well within. It scared him; he’d heard of things like the Lavak, explosive creatures from the bowels of the earth, servants of the God of Fire. But he pressed on. The vision faded, lacking conclusion, as if the worst were yet to come. The group stared at her expectantly, Shara in particular. ”You alright, dear?” The Konti were notorious for divination, visions of the past. ”See anything?” Meanwhile, a voice called Marina back, so loud the whole group would hear. It said: ”You petching idiot. You’re no better than I was, when I waltzed through here.” She’d turn to find the owner of the fleshy appendage in question, sitting incorporeal and clearly embittered, upon his own cairn. ”For a ghost, you’re quite thick. Don’t you realize what you’ll come back to if you keep pissing this place off?” He frowned. The boy had a whippet-like frame and was quite handsome as boys went, dark, close-cropped hair in direct contrast to his verdant green eyes. His skin was exotic, sun-kissed, nearly Eyktolian. ”No wonder you have no friends,” he said irritably, tapping one transparent leg. ”Do you hear that?” Opheria said in horror. ”Who on Mizahar is saying that?”

[Alses]

“Burial urns?” Alses echoed, with a shudder. “How foul, to store people so far away from all that’s light and good. There must be thousands of them here.” The word ‘mausoleum’, often an extravagance of the exceptionally rich in the post-Valterrian world, kept trying to muscle its way into her brain, cargoed with some less-welcome connotations, too.

‘I wonder…’ a part of her compound mind murmured, a train of thought entering a long, dark tunnel. ‘Which came first, the thing that resides here, or the urns?’

“This place seems quite stable,” Alses replied to Zeran, outwardly placid and determinedly shaking off the what-ifs to focus on the here-and-now, even though her eyes were distant and voice near-monotonal: telltale signs of an aurist flying on rainbow wings amongst the surroundings, seeing more, experiencing more, than most ever did.

“The djed networks that reacted to our presence before have died here; there are vague impressions in the rock, where perhaps they once existed, but whatever defends this place can’t turn the chamber against us, at least. Given that, using our healer now would be wise,” Alses murmured. “No sense in leaving injuries to get worse over time, no? Especially if – when - we need to run again, further down the line.”

Pragmatism – and a healthy appreciation of Sod’s Law – told her running would, without a doubt, be in the future, and at the worst possible time, too. Best to have everyone operating on top form, therefore.

But speaking of the healer…a wave of consternation washed through Alses as she looked at the corpse-pale thing, sharp senses taking in the too-distant eyes, the slack lips and all the other limp absences of a body with a mind dreaming elsewhere.

She shivered, involuntary and convulsive, at the sight, even as the others clustered close around Iosha, interested, curious, unrepulsed. Fortunately, there was little enough time to dwell on it, for a booming voice, distorted and amplified by the cavernous room, echoed and re-echoed, drawing attention away from the slack-jawed Konti. Had it not been for the eternal battle between pitying disgust and a desire to appear - at least outwardly - vaguely normal taking up most of her cerebral resources, she’d have jumped out of her skin at the sudden, unexpected sound.

Opheria, in particular, seemed unnerved, frightened even, the fire-globe in her hand rising from serene quiescence to spit and snarl, its golden tones shifting to an altogether harder, harsher whiteness as – perhaps involuntarily – the Shinya readied her magic for combat.

“Marina – wherever she is, exactly, though we know she’s close by - seems to have found a kindred spirit,” Alses replied after a few moments of hurried exploration on the numinous plane, grateful to Zeran for the lingering traces of hypnotic calm still drifting through the group. His cantrip was acting on her, too: since calmness and cool heads were all to the good, she’d not seen fit to resist. Never mind that she’d not really been in any state to resist, either; that was an inconvenient fact she – for the sake of her own internal, evergreen pride – would gloss over, thank you very much. “She seems to be faring rather better than the rest of us with this exploring,” Alses observed lightly, just a touch of levity dancing through her tones.

Her voice was as soothing and calming as she could make it, purposefully so, although it was an effort – a jumpy Shinya, nerves jangling with the stress of dealing with a motley group of very different people - most of whom were unknown to her - and having just expended a considerable amount of magic to keep them safe, wasn’t the best thing to upset or surprise.

“We can’t feel malice-” jagged daggers on the skin, a sickly aura of twining puce tendrils, always in unhealthy motion, last seen and felt in Hayani and an experience she never wanted to repeat “-just bitterness and unfinished business. I don’t think it’s a trick of the defences.” Telling gender, with the strange distortions and lack of sight, was all-but impossible – at least, without a far greater expenditure of precious, precious djed than Alses was willing to risk at this early juncture. Lack of ill-intent was enough, at least to her mind.

A brief pause as she collected herself and looked around the new, pristine room with her feeble night-sight. “Can anyone actually see our ghostly entourage?” she asked, quite plaintively, having drawn a blank on the slightly transparent phantom that was Marina and her new, unseen companion – who seemed to have quite the tongue in his ephemeral head.

[Iosha]

Being completely ignored on her thoughts and questions on the situation by the group, Iosha decided to stay silent and watch the scene unfold around her. Iosha listened as the Shinya decided to go with the Ethaefal plan with using glyph to seek out danger. In all honesty, she would have just walked down the hallway and faced the danger head on instead of tip toeing around it, but she had to realized that she wasn't in Wind Reach and most of these people were probably useless in a fight. Crossing her arms, she waited patiently for them to decide to on a plan. Suddenly, Iosha caught a glimpse of a translucent woman walk down the hallway. The konti had to look again to notice that it was a apparition of a young woman. Running a hand through her platinum blond hair, Iosha was embarrassed that she didn't notice the spirit until now. Still silent, the konti followed the party into the next room.

When Iosha walked into the next room, the konti eyes widened as she saw the remains of ancient columbarium. It must have been magnificent sight in the ancient times, but now it was in ruin. The konti looked at the fleshy appendages and noticed that it didn't look like plant life. In a way, the appendages looked like a part of a animal. Iosha shook her head and at the absurd notion and thought to herself, “Your letting your imagination run wild if you think those appendages look animal like. If it were the case, the beast would be massive.” Suddenly, a low growl of shifting rock was heard throughout the room, and the whole room started to shake. All Iosha looked up and saw a rock falling in her direction, so she jumped out of the way and moved under Shara protection barrier. Suddenly, she felt the walkway start to give way, so Iosha didn't wait to for the order to run. She started to run down the walkway to the next room. The run was terrifying because she had to dodge and jump over falling debris. The konti saw a rock land ten feet in front of her, so she picked up the her speed and tried jumping over it. The leap wasn't as high as she thought, so in mid jump, she tripped on the top of the rock and tumble to the ground.

When Iosha landed on her side, she felt a sharp pain and a warm sticky liquid slowly ooze down the side of her leg. Slowly standing up, she hobbled the rest of way into the safety of the other room. When she knew that she was safe, she looked over and saw through the cloud of dust and debris the walkway completely collapsed behind them. Putting a hand on her leg to stop the bleeding, Iosha looked away when someone lite a tiny flame revealing a room filled with urns and spiral staircase leading down. When Iosha heard Zeran voice ask for medical assistance in the most dramatic fashion, the konti pulled down and noticed a large scratch on the top of her hip. It was nothing to serious, so placing her hand on her hip, she murmured a prayer to Rak'keli in Kontinese, “My Goddess please cleanse this wound of impurities and heal the scratch, so I can do my job and help the rest of the group.” Seeing a soft blue light envelope her hand, she held it over the scratch till the light faded away. When she removed her hand, the scratch was removed, but the large bruise still remained. Murmuring thank you to Rak'keli, Iosha hobbled over to Zeran, gave him a weary smile, and trailed off, “Let me take a look...”

Trailing off in mid sentence, Iosha stared off into the darkness with a blank look on her face. Feeling like apart of the mist, Iosha watched scene played out before her when young human man no older than eighteen walking through a misty pine forest. Seeing the young man trip on a root, Iosha motherly sided wanted to help him, but like the mist, Iosha reached out and couldn't physically help the young man, so all she could do is watch as he pulled back the roots revealing a hidden passage way. Swirling around him, Iosha tried to stop him, but the most was to impulsive and went regardless of her futile warning. As she ventured with the young man into the dark passageway, Iosha could feel a feeling of danger and misfortune walking down hallway beside him. Suddenly, Iosha reached out to grab him, but he hands went through his body when she noticed the whole cavern start to shake around him. She could tell by the look on his face that he was frightened of something called the Lavak, a creature of the God of fire. Recklessly, the young man pressed on into the darkness.

Suddenly, Iosha snapped back to reality, and she fell to her knees exhausted by the vision. The konti hated the “death visions” that lingered on and on. They were annoying and tended to be more heartbreaking in the end. Waiting for the dizziness to pass, Iosha looked up when she heard Shara's voice. He stared at her blankly for a few ticks trying to register if this was the real world or not, but she said trailing off, “Yes, the vertigo will pass...” Iosha was about to answer her question, but she heard a male's voice in the air. Iosha turned her head slowly to see the boy from the her death vision. Looking at Alse as she analyzed the spirit, the konti said bluntly to the Ethaefal, “If you saw what I saw Alse, I would add recklessness and stupidity to the list too.” Hearing the young spirit man chastise the other female spirit, Iosha walked closer to him, pointed straight at him, and said plainly and almost motherly way, “Before you judge others Spirit on careless behavior. I would seriously look at yourself in mirror. If you are bitter, it is your own doing! You should have never ventured down in here alone or at all!” Still feeling the effects from her vision, Iosha was still feeling the emotions that she felt during the visions. Crossing her arms, she stared up at him with a frown on her white face.

[Zeran]

Zeran took the offered rag from Shara, cloth coarse in his hand from the unfortunate treatment over the past few chimes, complying with her suggestion. His hand very quickly leapt away again, nose bursting with a new surge of pain at the slightest touch from the cloth. Zeran breathed heavily through gritted teeth, as if putting extra effort and tension in his jaw would distract him from the sharp pain he felt in his nose. It had to be done, and he knew it did, else suffer the possibility of a permanently deformed nose because of the fear of a few ticks of pain. "On three," he murmured, bracing himself. "One... Two..." The movement never came, he just went rigid, fighting against the idea of self-harm. "That it?" he asked. "You're quite happy to look like a child's picture?" He ran a hand down the side of his face, doing well to avoid coming close to the nose. "Not really, but this is why you have medics. It's much easier to inflict pain on others than yourself, accompanied with reassur-" Hand and cloth clamped hard against the bridge of his nose, pulling anything misaligned back in to place, reviving the surge once more. Zeran groaned into both assailants, as his other hand forced down the first, cane tipping over to the floor. It wasn't to apply any further pressure; it was to keep the first hand from jumping away from his nose again. He didn't want to have to go through this a third time. It wasn't so hard when you weren't focusing on doing it. "Thank you," he said to Shara, voice odd and muffled from pinching his nose, as the pain subsided to a dull ache, reinforced by the occasional spike here and there. At least the blood flow had stopped for now, as any pathway was cut off. Trails no longer pooled on his lips. "And sorry for any implications I made about medics in my own attempts on my nose, Lady Iosha." He turned to the Konti as she approached, looking as if he were trying to hide his nose more than help it. She spoke and he began to reluctantly lift away what was preventing more blood loss. He'd just gone through an ordeal getting it on, and didn't really want to take it away so soon. As Iosha's eyes misted over, and her face fell to a deadpan expression, Zeran figured he'd got his wish as her hands stopped advancing towards the cloth he held. Replacing his hand and cloth, he watched her as she stood there. "Hello?" he called to her. "Anyone there?" He tapped her cheeks, attempting to bring her out of whatever epiphany she had fallen into. "I think she's broken." Stepping back, Zeran let Iosha fall to her knees, giving her the space she needed to recompose herself from what seemed to be an exhausting trip. "Welcome back." A new voice entered the room as his left it, carrying nothing but insults from the beginning. Zeran looked around aimlessly, expecting one of the urns to fall from their perch and give way to the next unexpected ordeal they would have to face. Picking up his cane, he paced the room during his search, pausing occasionally to watch his shadow flicker against the walls in Opheria's light. "Do we really need to worry about fighting this thing, Lady Opheria? I wouldn't consider it much of a threat if it were stupid enough to announce itself before picking as many of us off as it could beforehand." There was something in the words of the new voice that made him think. Alses had mentioned earlier the cave felt 'alive', having some degree of sentience to it, but she had described it as broken - whatever a broken sentience was. Now, this voice was furthering that assumption was true. Not only implying the cave was alive, but that it could respond accordingly to intruders. Zeran smiled at the thought of a living cave. This exploration just got better. "Miss Marina is only doing better than us because she doesn't have to worry about where she explores." Zeran was a bit jealous that he couldn't do so to the same extent, indicating the cloth still held against his nose. Iosha looked to have forgotten about it as she got up and left. Any obstruction would either halt his fun, or push him back. The ghost had no such nuisances. Alses was able to discover the new voice was another ghost, just like Marina, and also suggested that his own thoughts weren't far off from what was true. Though they both could've been wrong, it was a good enough starting point for Zeran. The previous room was much more expansive now that the walkway was gone, but it did hinder his plans of finding a use for the room. Instead, all that lingered behind was another ghost, floating from the initial room that Marina had wandered into. Iosha was quick to point her finger and start reprimanding the spirit, whilst Zeran took a subtler approach and arrange his djed to remove his right arm, as he set his cane up against the wall, swapping to his left hand to hold the cloth still. Zeran only established the ghost was male, before following his gaze into the opposite room from him where their own ghost had ventured. "So she's in that room now?" He shrugged. "Well now we know. Thanks!" Zeran turned back to the new ghost, watching his face as he now looked over at Iosha, taking note of her scolding and how she seemed to know a little about him. "All things in the past aside, he's dead now," he said. "It's not like he has much to worry about anymore, least of all us." Zeran turned away from Iosha, back to the ghost once more. "You got a name? Or something you'd like us to call you? If not, I could always improvise." He gave a shallow bow, not really caring for much else in his present state. "I'm Zeran." Astral arm reached across the gap, grabbing the boy's arm and pulling him back towards the group. "Fancy giving us a hand? You seem to know a lot more about this place than we do, and it seems to anger you seeing us doing no better. Shall we start with something simple? Such as, is this place truly alive? And how do we not piss it off any more than we already have?"

[Jenni Twilight]

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OOCI'm sorry for the delay!

Jenni was feeling thirsty after all their 'adventuring' as she could call it, and a little bit stiff. She thought for a moment, then remembered the Konti's offer of tea... at the moment, it was sorely tempting. A warm, tasty, drink would certainly help her now. She could almost taste it on her lips it was so attractive. However, when she turned to take the woman up on the offer, all she saw was a blank, expressionless face. Which was... confusing. Frowning, she waited politely for Iosha to do something, wondering what in the world caused such an expression... or lack of one. Instinctively, she glanced behind the group, but saw nothing out of the ordinary, except Alses poking and prodding at the urns.

Glancing back, she nearly yelped in surprise to see the Konti fall to her knees. "Are you alright?" she blurted, a little startled, not sure if she should take a step back, or one forward to aid the pale woman. However, her aid was seemingly not needed, as Iosha began speaking and pushed herself up. Then started talking about... things. And someone else was talking as well. Turning in surprise, she found... no source of the voice. It wasn't someone she recognized, not of their group, and it's voice was... mocking. Like it knew something they didn't.

Soon enough, after searching the massive room and following the movements of the two other woman, she spotted a translucent form... seemingly another ghost, or some kind of apparition. The former was probably the most likely answer, however. Frowning, she listened to him speak, wondering what he meant by 'pissing this place off'. Almost like it was alive. But there was no magic so great to make places live, surely? There was animation, but it didn't work on this kind of scale... and animated things didn't get... pissed off...

Iosha then began scolding the boy, talking about something the Twilight simply didn't understand. Things were becoming incredibly confusing very quickly. The man who had called himself 'Cannon Fodder' quickly began introducing himself to the sarcastic boy, inviting the ghost into their group. Despite the odd friendliness, Jenni didn't trust the spirit. She didn't like his personality either. Though she was tempted to introduce herself as well, the morpher refrained, deigning to watch and learn rather than interact. She didn't understand what was going on, and wanted to, before anything else happened.

Common - Nari/Crook - NPC - Writing - Reading

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[Elysium]

Iosha's sudden chastisement made the spirit cringe. "How would you know?" He spat, eyes narrowing. Yet beneath the prickly facade, it was quite clear she'd touched a nerve. The boy shifted uncomfortably, turning away. "You don't even know who I am." He cried out in shock as Zeran hauled him from one room to the next. "Get your petching hands off me!" Shara merely blinked, having barely recovered her composure. "It gets better and better," she mumbled, turning from Iosha to the ghost, to Zeran and back again. "Ser Catapult Fodder has the right idea. Tell us spirit: who are you?" The ghost glanced up at Iosha with a look of contrition, as if he'd speak to no other. "My name is Zael," he began with a sigh. "I was a Reimancy student at the Dawn Tower, just starting this year. When I found this place, I thought I could distinguish myself. Take the information straight to Lady Dawn. But.." He looked down in shame. "In the end, all I did was cause harm." Opheria looked very, very pale. The tiny light went out all at once, submerging them into total darkness. "Have you overgiven?" Shara asked quietly. There was no reply. "Alses dear, look into her aura please. I'm not sure what's happened to her." There was a shuffling as the Kelvic went to her side. "If I were alive, I'd help." The boy sounded sad. "As for this place being alive, yes. You're quite keen for figuring it out. It kept trying to kill me, but I went deeper still. I was able to fight off some odd creature on my way down -" he gestured to the stairs, though no one would see, "But in the end, this place got the better of me." The light flickered back on. Sweat dewed on Opheria's forehead. "Not overgiven," she muttered, turning away. Something seemed to be affecting her. "But my head is killing me." Shara placed a hand on her shoulder. "Elaborate, Zael. In the meantime, Iosha, might you look over Opheria? It sounds like she might have a concussion." "What more can I say?" The ghost seemed annoyed, more so than before. "All I know is this place is really old. The further down you go, the angrier it gets. It starts with a little earthquake, but..." His translucent eyes were laden with guilt. "It was me. It's all my fault. Now so many people are dead too, and all I'd been thinking of was myself..." He trailed off. "What do you mean?" Shara asked in horror. "I did it. I triggered the earthquake. I've wandered the city surface since it all began. All those people... All because I pissed off some sentient cave."