Closed Into the Abyss

[Sybel]

15th Day of Winter, 515 AV

The deluge of rain saturated everything it touched. It was a driving storm, the kind that sent people staggering in every direction, the kind that ripped fixtures right off the buildings. Lightning boiled through the sky, causing devastation wherever it struck. Debris was tossed hither and thither on the wind; pieces of shingles and siding, personal affects, small bits of produce and even a few laats could be found amongst the chaos. It was a din of waterlogged madness outside the relatively safety of the Safehaven Hostel. The problem was, there were people still out there.

Sybel found it difficult to breathe with water constantly getting into her mouth. She struggled to walk against the wind toward the flutter of movement in the distance. Everything was lost in a haze, obscured by a combination of the torrential downpour and the moonless sky. Her cloak whipped violently around her lean frame. It was then more than ever that she was aware of the sword at her hip, weighing on her. But she couldn't afford not to have it, not even in a situation like this.

There was simply no way she would stand idle while someone was trapped out in the storm. While she was unaware of the direction, she found her equilibrium just long enough to close the distance between her and the movement she saw. Sybel gritted her teeth. It'd be challenging to defend someone were she to have need of her blade. Damn near impossible, given the lack of visibility.

With a grin, she pressed on. There was something so seductive about a lost cause. Sybel could see what vaguely looked to be a bridge up ahead. The thought of drawing closer to the Aperture sent dread lancing through the pit of her stomach. Out of all the reasons she'd given the city wide berth, the giant crack running down its middle was chief among them.

There! Sybel could vaguely decipher two figures ahead, clinging to the railing. She assumed by default that they were the ones she'd heard about, visitors trapped out in the storm.

"Can you hear me?" She shouted over the cacophany. It was a long shot, but she'd try. Slowly, she slogged through the last few yards between her and what it was she thought she'd seen.

[Pulren Marsh]

Some things in Mizahar demanded respect, events that made one unmistakably aware of the presence of Greater Deities in the world. The fact that Mizahar itself was the remnants of a war by these beings was one thing. A great civilization, heralded by the strange and fantastic architecture of Zeltiva's Old Quarter, destroyed by disagreements between the great Deities of the world. Now, the people scraped and scavenged beneath Their eyes, clearly devout.

Nyka was a city that made the bond between Deity and mortal ever present. Ruled by Alvina, or demigods, the City could make even the faithless take notice. Of course, Pulren believed in the Gods. He had been saved by Rak'keli and his salt was the salt of his Father, Laviku. The greatest of storms had settled upon the city and one who saw the work of the Divine could only see the movements of Grandfather Zulrav, the Storm God. Anyone worth their own salt from Zeltiva knew that these two great Old Men would constantly have their own conversations, though it rarely had boded well for sailors or fishermen when both Sea and Sky were in tumult.

So while many would stay indoors when a great tempest would settle over the land and sea, Pulren had little choice but to walk into it and face his fate. The brine spray that was carried from Laviku's side of the argument would bless his lips while Zulrav's wind lapped at his face and beard. Having left the Sharp Tongue Pub a golden miza lighter and two wheat beers heavier, he could only grin into the madness of the wild winds through the streets. He wore only his linen shirt, leather pants and trusty boots, favored razor in the heel as always. In a chime of stepping out into it, he was soaked through to the bone in cold water. He shuddered a moment but then shook it off. It was no worse than diving into sea water and there was no Bonesnapper in Nyka. Zeltivans were made to weather the elements.

Keeping his profile low as he crossed one of the great bridges of the Aperture, he saw an old woman trying to hold on to some packages and the railing at the same time. Moving carefully and surely toward her, he moved his face close to her wizened form so that she could hear him over the roar of the wind. "Can I help you, Mother?" The lady grinned and squinted, waving him off as she nonchalantly tossed the packages into the great crevice beneath them and laughed, making her own way past him and across the span. Pulren could only laugh and look down into the mystical maw that the city was built around. One of the many taunting rope ladders swung wildly in the wind beneath it and a feeling passed through the mercenary's chest. Sky Above, Land Between, What Below? If he were to truly honor the Gods and prove his fate among Them to be worthwhile, wouldn't the passing into the unknown be the greatest test?

[Balderdash]

As Pulren stared into the black maw of the Aperture, where sheets of water poured in like dual waterfalls, he felt a strange weight in his body. Perhaps it was the fact that he couldn't see any foam despite the fact that the water surely hit the bottom at some point, or the ominous rumbling above, or the fact that he had drawn to the very edge of the rift but didn't remember moving his feet, but the Zeltivan could feel a distinct presence seeping from the depths of the Aperture like steam from a kettle. Sybel's shout didn't seem to elicit much of a reaction, though that could have been because of the roar of thunder above. The swirling clouds above flashed menacingly with each rumble, briefly giving her enough vision to avoid stumbling into anything and illuminating the silhouettes of the pair she spotted. Just before she got close enough to make out details, both outsiders heard a deafening crack! and felt their bodies turn weightless as the world flashed white. The next thing they knew, they were floating in a churning mass of water. Miniscule white bubbles broke up the velvety darkness that surrounded them, and a constant pounding sound told them which way was up. When they broke the surface, the two were greeted with the sight of what looked a little like an exceptionally fat river shrouded in fine mist. Countless eddies and channels churned the water that came crashing down and marked crevices large enough to slip into where it flowed into parts unknown. Far above, iron-grey storm clouds could be seen through the maw of the Aperture. The air was heavy with the smell of rain and something akin to chamomile, and if they cared to swim to either of the waterfalls, they'd feel slick stone behind them. The two could make out each others' silhouettes, and they were within shouting range of the other. Though how was perhaps a bit of a mystery, Pulren and Sybel had found themselves inside the Heart of the World.

[Sybel]

As the clouds billowed overhead, Sybel felt time suspend for a brief moment. She staggered a few feet more, just barely evading the elements as she did. The wind howled around her. Hair clung in loose strands to her soaked skin. Everything became lucid for just a tick, so quick she scarcely believed it happened at all. The whole world was bathed in light. She could see every detail of the bridge and the people that clung to it. Then, darkness.

She woke to the sound of rainfall as it hammered above. Sybel's nostrils flared well before her eyes opened, catching the aroma of something earthy. The longer she was conscious, the more she became aware of her surroundings. Closer was the impact of rushing water. Slowly, she opened her eyes and peered into the inky darkness, struggling to adjust to the abrupt lack of light.

Sybel moved to lean back on her elbows, but found nothing solid beneath her. Instead her body sank back into the water, causing her to splutter and thrash about for a moment. It was so dark, she hadn't realized she was suspended on what appeared to be a river. It was then that the background came into focus. As she managed to start floating again, her eyes grimly followed the rock ledges that supported the cavern upward as they stretched toward the sky.

They were in the Aperture, then.

It was a good thing emotions didn't weigh a thing. The feeling in her chest was so heavy, she felt it ought to drag her right under. Quietly, she watched the clouds roil in the sky above. All the years she'd avoided Nyka, it was because of the Aperture. Something about it struck a cold fear into her heart. It wasn't all the tales, for Ovek knew she'd heard plenty of those. It was the feeling she got from it, the seductive luring. Every time she'd ever peered into the abyss, Sybel fought the nagging desire to jump.

And now here she was.

For what she presumed to be a horrifying place, the fragrance of it was at least relaxing. It reminded her of an apothecary or some such. Sybel rolled over and began to roughly tread water. If the rain had caused the place to flood, that already put her at a deep disadvantage. She'd spent some time in Zeltiva and Riverfall both, but in spite of that had never gotten to be a particularly strong swimmer. Her limbs sliced clumsily through the water as she made her way to one of the waterfalls.

When she got the edge she found she had the ability to stand, though just barely. Sybel reached into the powerful current to see perhaps if there was an alcove hidden beyond. Instead, all she found was the rough surface of the rock. She pressed both palms flat against the slick stone behind it, bowing her head into the raging waterfall.

The pounding of the stream as it ran over her fit well with the pounding of her head. There was a knot in her throat. This was her worst nightmare. If she were crying, it was impossible to tell. In spite of her standing, the power drained from her legs. The cold reality of where she was seeped into every inch of her, every muscle, every pore.

'I'm in the Heart of the World,' she thought numbly.

Which meant she was going to die.

[Pulren Marsh]

When Pulren felt the weight in his chest, he at first suspected that perhaps the Gods had heard his silent devotion and wished to parlay. Closing his eyes ever so briefly, in order to attempt some kind of communion with either Sea or Storm, brought an even wilder sensation of pressure and disorientation. It was like being caught in a whirlpool without being submerged.

Until he was. The sensation of thousands of bubbles tickling his body and climbing over his face like an army of little legs quickly changed his perception to that of measured panic. His body, comfortable in the water as it was on land, naturally moved in time to the thrashing motions of the waters that he had been thrown into. Was he thrown at all, though?Whatever had happened, the same sky he had burrowed his concentration into moments before greeted him mockingly from above now, framed inside the high walls of the Aperture. Blinking several times, the rush of water echoing inside the cavernous space awakened the man's senses as he righted himself and began to instinctively tread water.

There was someone else moving around in the water. Judging from the splashing that came from the shadow, he guessed that they might not be a good swimmer or were completely overtaken by the sensory chaos. He was very glad that he was not in his armor with weapons. While he might be virtually defenseless against any number of creatures rumored to be somewhere beneath him in the darkness, he felt confident against the elements. His hands sought the purchase of the smooth stone walls as he slowly directed himself toward the other swimmer.

He watched the bobbing shadow as he moved. There was an oddly pleasant smell down there and that concerned him somewhat. It didn't seem like a place where pleasantness grew. he would have to keep his wits sharp. He would also need to decide about this other person, if they were indeed a person at all. If nothing else, he knew the razor floated inside his boot. "Hey there!", Pulren called out to the shape. "Friend or foe?" In this predicament, anything besides friend would make matters deadlier than they might already be.

[Sybel]

a

The sound of another voice gave her a start. Sybel gasped. As a result, water managed to slip between parted lips and catch in her throat. Coughing and spluttering, she edged out of the way of the waterfall to lean against the cave's interior. The resulting noise bounced throughout the cold stone chamber, echoing into its depths.

"Friend," She said, finally. It was unintentional, but her spluttering had no doubt revealed their whereabouts to any living creature nearby with a pair of ears. Sybel mopped her face clear of water and began to rub her eyes.

"...you petcher," she murmured quietly, as a colorful afterthought.

Once she felt she'd gotten her wits about her, she turned to press her back against the wall. It was difficult to see in the bowels of the cavern, but what little light they did have cast a shadow around Pulren, allowing her to vaguely discern his outline. It was no doubt one of the people she'd seen clinging to the bridge, though anything was possible.

"And what of you?" She asked warily. "Friend or foe?" It was easy to tell given her inflection that she was dubious of this stranger. Now that they were deep in the depths of the earth, this person could just as easily be some shapeshifting deceiver. The very current in the air gave her gooseflesh though whether it was the wild djed, the freezing air or some combination of the two, who could say?

"Are you a person? Better talk fast," she said with a courage she didn't currently possess. If she meant to defend herself, her didn't have a thing to do it with.

a

[Pulren Marsh]

Between the calamitous roar of the waterfalls and the waters splashing around him, Pulren's senses were more or less focused on the voice that was going to answer him from the nearby shadow. His eyes also focused on a large crevice that was slowly erupting from one part of the wall nearby. He slowly moved his legs and arms in the direction of the aperture within the Aperture, his hands soon finding the crumbling rock around its edges.

"Friend." The word echoed out to Pulren, carried easily over the water from the same headl level his own was at. He was glad to hear it, though only the most reviled of creatures would actually answer Foe anyway. His attention was mainly on the bulging features of the crevice, his boots finding a foothold just below the water's surface. Soon a return question came, carrying a kind of veiled threat soon after. he wasn't sure how to respond to the second part, he paid the most attention to resisting the draw of the water through the hole in the wall of the rock.

Pushing up with his foot, his hand caught the near peak of the crevice. It felt solid enough and it supported his weight for the time being, pulling the length of his body above the water's general safety and camouflage. His left leg and knee were braced on the rock wall now along with his left arm as it gripped the rock. He had a better angle on the woman, the shape in the water telling him that much along with her face shape. "I'm a friend. Name's Palaren Marshall of Zeltiva." That was all he felt like sharing until he could find another handhold and a way to brace himself more securely to the rock face. Whatever she was, her intentions would be known soon. At least Pulren didn't have to fear the water and the rocks.

[Balderdash]

Pulren's decision to jam his body parts into a crack could be considered a prudent and reasonable one. The result, however, was somewhat less reasonable. The pair heard a loud crack like pottery breaking followed by an ominous grinding sound akin to gravel mixing on the section of wall Pulren was clinging to that lasted for a couple ticks. Then a massive section of it, including what he was holding onto, crumbled away like a brick wall hit by a cannon, revealing a seemingly endless black expanse in all directions but down; down (about a dozen meters below where the supposed floor of the Aperture was) lay a boundless sea of magma. Water rushed through the gaping hole like a drain pipe during a flood, sweeping Sybel towards it along with most of the "river." Pulren was suspended in midair for a moment before gravity took hold of his body and pulled him down, the water almost hurling him out into the abyss as he fell out of the Aperture and into... The Aperture? Mercifully, there were many jutting hunks of wall near the floor to grab onto for the both of them if Sybel missed any of the other cracks in the Aperture wall. The water was overwhelming for a few ticks, but eventually died down just enough for them to be able to see. Gigantic clouds of steam rose beneath Pulren, whose dangling body could sense that it was surprisingly cool. In addition, while his body was bathed in orange light during his fall and a great deal of his hang time, it was now lit largely by Leth again. Both could hear a sound like metal being quenched far below, and Pulren could feel another stone wall against his body; at the very least, the Aperture didn't seem to be floating in space. He could also sense ridges and cracks in the new, lower wall. The water was still pouring heavily, though the level had lowered to the point of being chest-high from engulfing and the current was no longer nigh impossible to fight. They would need to choose their next path, ideally quickly.

[Pulren Marsh]

All of a sudden, the presence of the other person made little difference to Pulren. What was firmly in his observational grip was the distinct sounds coming from the earth around him. As he held on to the wall, a terrible sound of grinding came from all around him. His heart raced as he thought of what to do. His body tensed and dug in deeper to what foot and hand holds he had found in the rock until his brain could understand what was happening. It became crystal clear in what seemed like no time as the very wall he held crumbled away under him and he fell forward into open space.

There was a brief lapse of time where everything, including his own heartbeats and breaths, seemed to hang unmoved in time. Could this be his last moment? Would he never find the sea and his father, Laviku? Where he might die was about as far away from the open sea as he could find himself, the thought kicking his heart into a faster rhythm. As if to somehow comfort him in a bizarre way, he was promptly hit and inundated with water, the shock of its temperature and force bringing the sights and sounds around Pulren into a sharp contrast of clarity from the previous moments of unknowing.

His flailing hands and feet soon found purchase on another jutting of rock, now lower and darker than before, though there was another light. It was an orange, fiery light that came from far below. It looked liked magma, the fire of the earth that Aoren had summoned for him in a small quantity long ago in Zeltiva. This was a veritable sea of the stuff and he knew how deadly it could be, increasing his grip on his new perch. The water continued to rush over him until it began to subside, no doubt falling below into the magma with a sharp hiss. He looked at each hand and foot, securing his place wherever he was.

"Petch monsters. This shyke is plenty nasty, " he said to himself as he shook the water from his hair and eyes. His options were few and fleeting. There wasn't much point in trying to go deeper. It looked like only magma awaited that option. He would enjoy summoning the stuff some day, but that was the extent of intimacy he wished to gain with it for the time being. His best chance, in his opinion, was to try to get back to where he had been. The water had drained for the most part and he knew it could probably crumble enough for him to gain enough purchase to get back. It's really all he had to go on. Patience and caution ruled the day.

[Balderdash]

oocIt took way longer to figure this out than it should have. Hopefully it's worth it! Once Pulren dragged himself back into the Aperture and left the burning sea behind him, he was able to better take in the atmosphere around him as he made his way through the endless dark. The electric tingle that pervaded Nyka wrapped around him like a blanket made of pure energy, and he soon became acutely aware of a sort of pressure that ebbed and flowed like a heartbeat. When Pulren inhaled his body felt unnaturally light, and exhaling brought an almost physical weight upon him. There were twinkling lights far up on the walls, and the mercenary could swear he heard scrabbling from somewhere on high. Mercifully, for the time being whatever making the noise paid him no mind, and he was left to himself and the waist-deep water. Eventually he found himself flanked on either side by pillars unmistakably carved by men, a full dozen feet tall with runes engraves in a spiraling pattern down them both. Ahead of him was a hallway that forked into two sets of stairs: one led up, the other down. The hall and pillars were flecked with glowing azure rock that lit the area with pale blue light. It seemed Pulren had found some ruins.