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Source: (consider it)
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Thread: Circus: The Story of the Kavetseki Incident (RPG)
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Adam.
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# 4991
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Posted
Dorainen saw the three new doors. Finding the stairs was the priority, so he decided to open each door in turn and, if there was no obvious stairway to open the next door and then, if all three drew a blank, continue around the corridor. He'd keep doing this till he got to a dead end or back where he started (could do corridor be a loop?). If none of this turned up any stairway, it would be time to search each room in more detail.
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Autenrieth Road
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# 10509
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Frithwynne enters a large room. The floor is tiled with what looks like marble. Against a short sloping wall to her left stand two copper buckets. Further to her left there is a short straight wall, against which is a wooden water closet.
There is a long wooden side board against the opposite wall, and a door toward the end of the wall. In the middle of the sideboard is a large inset copper bowl with a copper pitcher standing next to it. There is also a mirror standing on the side board.
As she walks into the room she notices a fire place in the wall to her right. There are fire irons on one side of it and a large kettle, to hang over it, on the other.
There are wooden valet stands a safe distance from the fire place, and two bales of towels stacked nearby. In the centre there is a magnificent, large, free standing copper bathtub - that has been polished to a high sheen
Frithwynne stands in the middle of the room and faces the opposite way from the water closet. She can see a door in the far wall.
All the doors have copper bolts fitted to them, but none are currently drawn closed.
Over all, the room is rectangular in shape, with just a dented corner from the two sloping walls of the ship room.
Frithwynne takes one of the towels to wrap around the ship and make it a bit less spiky to carry. The she opens the door across from the water closet, expecting it to lead her back into the dining room.
[ 13. October 2014, 15:24: Message edited by: Autenrieth Road ]
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Truth
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Autenrieth Road
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Frithwynne found herself back in the dining room, having emerged through the second door on the left. Er was there, looking confused.
"Come on," said Frithwynne, and went back into the map room by the first door on the left. No-one was there. She looked in the ship room. No-one there either.
"Now what? I thought Dorainen was going to bring them in here," she said to Er. "It doesn't look like they came through all this salt, but let me check the other door." She waded into the ship room and tried the untried door, the door on the left.
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Truth
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Autenrieth Road
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Through the door, Frithwynne found a good size bedroom. Simple, lived in, with a good quality rug in red wool. There was a painting of a gaunt and smudged woman over the dresser. As Frithwynne crossed the room, the painting moved. Frithwynne shrieked. The painting's mouth opened.
"Oh, a mirror," said Frithwynne, glancing sidelong at Er to see if he had registered her folly. No, Er still looked the same confused as before.
It was a fine mirror, and an elegantly carved dresser. Combs and jewelry on the dresser suggested that this was a woman's bedroom. She looked in the mirror. "Mirror, mirror, on the wall," she murmured, but gazing at her gaunt self led her to no answers.
"Yaris' room, do you think?" she asked Er. She felt uncomfortable at the thought, although she wasn't sure if it was in fear of the redoubtable Yaris, or in confusion that the redoubtable Yaris lived in such a typical gentlewoman's room.
Another door on the far side was slightly ajar. There was the sound of someone kicking a door.
"That must be them. At least, I hope it's them and not someone else breaking in." Frithwynne went through the door.
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Truth
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Adam.
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# 4991
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Jetse took aim at the door, but almost tripped over a crack in the floorboards, misdirecting his force and just failing to break the lock. Dorainen gave it a sharp kick. "You loosened it for me," he said, trying to sound grateful and not patronising.
Opening the door, he saw the staircase he'd been hoping for. It was spiral. Jetse and Gunriana were with him (as was the, still comatose, cat), but where had Frithwynne and Er gotten too. For a brief moment he worried about shouting out, but then remembered that they'd just kicked a door in.
"Frithwynne? Er? We've found stairs!" he cried out.
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Ave Crux, Spes Unica!
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Autenrieth Road
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# 10509
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As Frithwynne emerged into the corridor (and she wasn't sure if she was surprised to be in the corridor or not), she heard Dorainen shouting.
"This way," and she turned right and went around the bend to the left. She found Dorainen, Jetse and Gunriana standing at the end of the corridor. A door hung open, with a splintered lock, revealing a spiral staircase.
"Near and up. Who'll go first?"
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Truth
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Adam.
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Dorainen's legs were ahead of his head (as impossible as that might sound). While it may well be sensible to stop and consider what could be at the top of the staircase, and who might be best equipped to deal with that, the party was together, there was a staircase and a storm was coming and he was nearest the door, having finished the job of breaking the lock, so he started ascending, hoping all the others would follow him.
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Autenrieth Road
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At the top of the stairs was an ornate door. Trying the handle proved it to be locked. Frithwynne stuck her head under Dorainen's elbow and listened intently. She felt a miasma of evil, and while she had gotten used to the other doors and rooms all being unoccupied, the feeling of evil made her cautious again.
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Truth
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Adam.
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# 4991
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As Frithwynne was listening, Dorainen got out his knife and tried to use it to force the door open. He almost thought he had it, but it resisted him. "Anyone else got something to try?" he asked.
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Ave Crux, Spes Unica!
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Autenrieth Road
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# 10509
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"I hear -- it's like a piece of cloth flapping. It reminds me of the sails on the -- on the -- well, then, when the ship would come around. What could it be? A window open, and something loose? Dorainen, do you think a hairpin would work on the lock? There must be some in the bedroom."
Frithwynne set the ship down on the top step, reached awkwardly past Dorainen and began running her hands over the door and the walls on either side, hoping to ***find a hidden*** catch or panel.
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Truth
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Autenrieth Road
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Whispering, as of silk against wool, and the great green snake slid between Frithwynne's feet and began to insinuate itself into the carvings on the door. The snake's gold and jeweled markings added to the ornate pattern. It flicked its silver tongue and regarded the companions through slitted garnet eyes.
A faint click sounded.
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Truth
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Doublethink.
Ship's Foolwise Unperson
# 1984
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Posted
Foret, being without the ability to sense evil and excited to see what secrets might lie beyond, darted forward to push open the door.
A flash of scale and he was on the floor, with two pin pricks of blood on his neck.
As the snake struck, the cat stirred, twisting its head, ears back, yowling low and menacing.
The holes in Foret's neck began to smoke.
[ 18. October 2014, 22:10: Message edited by: Doublethink. ]
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All political thinking for years past has been vitiated in the same way. People can foresee the future only when it coincides with their own wishes, and the most grossly obvious facts can be ignored when they are unwelcome. George Orwell
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Adam.
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# 4991
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Dorainen was shocked to see what had just happened to poor Foret. He couldn't help thinking that if he'd never had healed him in the first place, he'd never have gotten dragged into this strange adventure. He looked beyond his power to heal, and later would be the time for the singing of dirges, that is if there was to be a later for him and his companions. He put the cat down, whispering to the others to watch it, and wrapped himself in his protective cloak, leaving only a small slit open to see through, his knife edge peaking out from the folds. He took aim and went to stab the snake.
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Ave Crux, Spes Unica!
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Doublethink.
Ship's Foolwise Unperson
# 1984
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Posted
The elf lashed swiftly with the knife, but the snake was faster, evadeding like scaled lightened and rearing up hissing. He drew back from the unequal contest.
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All political thinking for years past has been vitiated in the same way. People can foresee the future only when it coincides with their own wishes, and the most grossly obvious facts can be ignored when they are unwelcome. George Orwell
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Adam.
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The snake was too fast. Dorainen certainly didn't want to end up with smoking fang marks in him. What could have fast enough reactions to avenge Foret? He looked down at his feet. What about that cat? Not at full strength right now, of course, but that he could do something about.
He laid his hand on it, and started to chant, slowly working his way back to the steady flow of healing that would be their only hope.
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Ave Crux, Spes Unica!
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Adam.
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Dorainen had barely sprinkled the cat with the healing flow when it almost leapt up. I suppose cats really don't like water, even when it's just the closest physical term for a magical reality...
It (she? he?) touched a paw to Dorainen's shoulder, almost a pat of thanks, and then turned to face the snake.
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Ave Crux, Spes Unica!
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Doublethink.
Ship's Foolwise Unperson
# 1984
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Posted
The cat made to pounce, the snake reared and flared its hood, a momemt of stillness, a blurr of movement - that cat flips backward its jaws fastened on the snake's headed - the thrashing furry, scaled, tangled ball of fury rolls across the floor.
There are twitches, and they become still. The cat rights itself and trots forward, shouldering the door ajar and dragging the limp snake triumphantly.
[ 19. October 2014, 21:36: Message edited by: Doublethink. ]
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All political thinking for years past has been vitiated in the same way. People can foresee the future only when it coincides with their own wishes, and the most grossly obvious facts can be ignored when they are unwelcome. George Orwell
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Autenrieth Road
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# 10509
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All sense of salt was gone. Frithwynne smelled smoke, flames, blood.
"Dorainen, can't you heal him? Gunriana, a rune?"
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Truth
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Adam.
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# 4991
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Dorainen looked down at Foret. He didn't want to admit that he was beyond healing. Didn't want to admit to Frithwynne, certainly, but not to himself either, really. The cat seemed able to walk unaided now. "Our first priority should be to get to safety. There's a storm coming," was all he could say as he picked up the boy's body and walked through the door.
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Ave Crux, Spes Unica!
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Autenrieth Road
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Frithwynne felt stupid and trivial picking up the ship, when Dorainen was carrying Foret, much more significant. But what else could she so? She picked up the ship and followed Dorainen through the door, trying to ignore the little voice reminding her of the golden chain and what had happened the last time she grasped for something shiny.
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Truth
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Adam.
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Dorainen walked through the door and found himself outside. The cool night air was bracing. There was enough light from the moon to get a pretty good look at everything, all of which appeared to be made of white marble. They were at the top of a tower. It was about three times his height in diameter. In the center was a slightly raised platform, less than a foot off the ground, but clearly of a different material and color from the rest of the paving. He would have to curl up to lie on it, but for most humans, the diameter would fit them. Flags were flying by the gatehouse they'd just come out of, which was flanked by large boxes decorated with silver work. There seemed to be a block on the other side, but he couldn't see it clearly yet.
Before he could do anything, he'd have to put Foret down, which he did, on the platform. As he arranged his body in what he hoped was a respectful position, he noticed that the platform almost seemed designed for this. For whatever reason, his mind went to those horrid public dissections of elves that were carried out for human entertainment. This was just the kind of platform that would be used.
Foret placed, he decided it would be worth chanting over him. The flow would tell him if moving healing over him would do his body any good, but even if it didn't, it could never harm a soul, and may help him in some way unknown to the best elven minds.
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Adam.
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The healing flow skirted around Foret, like water flowing away from a magnet. He was gone. Tevamim mela'ge' he sang: there is no healing from death.
He then turned to investigate the two boxes they had passed on their way in, starting with the one on the right.
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Ave Crux, Spes Unica!
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Adam.
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Dorainen couldn't get the boxes open. He thought about asking Jetse to force them, but he seemed to be keenly examining the flags. He wondered whether Er would be able to use his tinkering skills to get them open, and went to ask him to try.
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Autenrieth Road
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Frithwynne waited, but Foret still lay limp. Dorainen changed his song, and Frithwynne felt worn and tired, as if she had fought with a waterfall and lost. When the elf moved away from the platform, Frithwynne moved forward. She looked at Foret's face for some moments, then laid the ship on the pavement at his feet and went to examine the block across from the door.
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Truth
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Autenrieth Road
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Frithwynne called out to the others: "Grooves. And a spout. And tremendous evil. There's some botchy pattern on the alabaster center, white metal. Silver? Something else?"
And softer, but still pitched to carry to the others: "Sacrifices on this block? The grooves to channel and the spout to feed to a vessel to catch the blood?"
She walked around the edge of the platform to see if she could ***find anything hidden*** either around the edge or on or within the pavement.
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Truth
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Net Spinster
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# 16058
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Er listened to Dorainen's request and nodded though he was still shaken by earlier experiences. The left chest first, the lock looked straightforward but his eye was caught by the white enamel work with its sinuous knotwork of white on white. So intricate, he began following the pattern with his fingers, yes! this felt right (though the back of his mind began screaming stop), right, right. Blood started coming out of the fingers that were tracing the pattern, but, he couldn't stop. He heard the cat hiss, but, he couldn't stop. His fingers reached the lock and he stopped, forever.
The others see Er slump to the ground by the white chest. Within a minute the chest absorbs the blood that Er had left on it and is back to white.
[ 22. October 2014, 17:29: Message edited by: Doublethink. ]
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Adam.
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What strange magic was this! Dorainen looked away in a moment of disgust. He knew he would have to return and investigate, but just at that moment, the flags that he had previously overlooked caught his eye. Could it be that they were... Yes, yes they were.
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Adam.
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... the flags: they were snake skins; and the streamers were not streamers at all, but tails.
Who knew about this place? Did Trepik's dwarves know what they were talking about when they mentioned the 'ceremony'?
I seemed Yaris needed the snake to access this tower, so it is possible this place of sacrifice had never been used by her. Or maybe a new snake was needed each time? Is there anything they could take from here that would conclusively turn the town against her at the hearing?
He blurted out all of these questions out loud, and then remembered he was standing by Er's body. Lament was needed, but so were answers.
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Autenrieth Road
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"Snakes, yes. Under the overhang of the platform it's carved all around in a pattern of scales, and here it has a carving of a snake's head grasping its tail.
"What do you think this blotchy pattern on the platform is?"
Frithwynne turned towards Dorainen as she spoke, and saw Er's body. She darted forward to touch his neck, but she already knew, after Foret, that it was hopeless.
"What happened?" A stupid, useless, question, but better than giving into grief and crying "Oh no!"
[ 22. October 2014, 21:49: Message edited by: Autenrieth Road ]
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Truth
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Adam.
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Dorainen explained what had happened to Er as best he could. "Does anyone have any better understanding of this magic than I do?" he asked.
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Autenrieth Road
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"I can try."
Frithwynne removed the ***chalice*** from the knapsack, tilted it towards the moon to catch the silver light, and gazed into it. She closed her eyes and envisioned everything they had seen since the snake had entwined itself on the door, and waited to see if she any ***intuition*** came to her.
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Truth
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Autenrieth Road
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Frithwynne emerged from her reverie, and blinked to find that the moon had not moved at all.
"So... Er died running his hands over the carvings, trying to interfere with the lock.
"Yaris makes powerful magic here, and subtle traps. But maybe she has overlooked something.
"These chests -- the size of a large sheep each. What if we could tip the chests over the edge without touching them ? And then... run downstairs and outside to look at them? Maybe they would burst open in the fall. We would have to be fast; the servants must be coming back soon.
"Do we have everything we want from here? I think we should all go down together after the chests, I mean down the stairs to look at them, not go down after them over the parapet.
"And how could we tip the chests?"
Frithwynne looked with a gulp at the bodies of Foret and Er. "We could push the chests with the bodies as a shield," she thought, but hoped someone else would come up with a different idea, or that someone else would be the one to give voice to this idea.
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Truth
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Adam.
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Dorainen moved back to Foret's body, trying to decide whether the marks in his neck would be enough to convince anyone of anything. While he was thinking, he noticed something. The blotches... he knew that pattern!
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Adam.
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He got out his copy of Studia Humana and let it flip open to the center insert: a map of the known (to humans...) world. He walked round to match up the orientation, and pulled Foret to one side (his excitement somewhat eclipsing his respect for the boy's corpse).
"Look, everyone! They're not random splodges, it's a map of the world! And here we are: Cimenster," he said, jabbing at the spot, half wondering if something was about to happen.
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Ave Crux, Spes Unica!
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Autenrieth Road
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The cat had retreated to the spot furthest from all the strange items, people, elves, and bodies, which on a circular tower was a neat trick of trigonometry. Frithwynne knelt down and averted her eyes, scratching a finger towards the cat in an unpredictable pattern.
"Pssst, pssst, here kitty kitty," she murmured, but knowing that her words would make no difference. It would depend on how curious the cat got about the moving finger. "Pssst, pssst, here's a little mouse, come investigate."
She didn't have any idea what the map might mean, but figured it meant more evilness. She waited to hear if any of the others would suggest what the map might be for. In the meantime, retreating into cat-taming helped her block out the pervasive sense of evil on the tower.
[ 25. October 2014, 02:41: Message edited by: Autenrieth Road ]
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Truth
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Autenrieth Road
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Frithwynne thought she'd see if her ***animal command*** could bring the cat to her. "Here, sweet kitty," she murmured. "Wouldn't you like to come over here and have a nice petting?"
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Truth
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Autenrieth Road
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The cat blinked its blue eyes disdainfully at Frithwynne and started to wash its face and ears with its paws.
Frithwynne gave up. There would be no asking the kitty if it could show her something helpful. Back to the task at hand.
"Anything else useful to be done up here? Any ideas for how to push these boxes over? Do you think we could take one of the flagpoles down and use it as a lever? Dorainen, what do you think the map means? Guardian Jetse, what can you use from up here to perhaps use against Yaris? Lady Gunriana, you've been very quiet -- what do you make of all this?"
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Truth
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Autenrieth Road
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Frithwynne looked over the parapet. She was hoping to see a ledge just below the edge.
"Dorainen or Jetse or Gunriana, do you think we could use my very long chain in some way to pull these boxes over?"
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Truth
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Autenrieth Road
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Frithwynne saw nothing helpful.
She went to Er's crumpled body and pulled it a bit away from the boxes, then arranged it neatly in the traditional manner with one hand across his chest and the other at his side. She walked over to the alabaster dais and traced the outlines of the map, as much as she could without touching Foret.
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Truth
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Adam.
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Dorainen had been staring, almost transfixed, at the splotchy map on the platform, reminiscing about all the places he'd been on that map, places he'd never have dreamed of while growing up on the teyv. But, then, he shook himself and remembered the time constraints they were under. Frithwynne's idea about pushing the chests off the parapet was the best they'd had so far, so he decided to try. Wrapping his cloak around his arms to shield him from whatever had killed Er, he wedged his foot against the platform and pushed with all his might.
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Adam.
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The chest started tottering and then tipped and fell off the edge. As satisfying as it was to watch it tumble, buoyed by his success, Dorainen quickly went and tossed the other one over its side. Worried that this commotion would attract attention if they didn't get to the crash sites quickly, he headed for the stairs, hoping Frithwynne would help supply directions as needed.
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Autenrieth Road
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Frithwynne ran to get the ship, cast a regretful glance to the cat, nodded her head quickly in respect to the bodies of Foret and Er (mourning and funeral rites, lost in battle, she thought), and rushed pell mell after Dorainen.
Down the spiral stairs, pounding around the bends in the corridor, onto the landing and down the main stairs, back into the panelled reception room.
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Truth
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Adam.
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Dorainen remembered that door in the off-axis wall. He walked through and, as he hoped, found a door to the outside. Going through it, he could easily see the tower. Distance obscuring its menace, it looked rather attractive. He wondered it its architect could ever have anticipated the lethal use to which it would be put.
Running towards it, he went to see what had become of their tossed chests.
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Adam.
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Rounding the corner, Dorainen discovered the remains of the chest. There were various remnants of plants, bones, minerals... ingredients for a potion? There was a lot of shattered glass, hard to tell what it had been from, maybe jars. Most intriguing was a large black leather bound book and three smaller journals. There was no time for detailed reading now. There was room for the books in his cloak. Now, they had to skedaddle, and sharpish.
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Ave Crux, Spes Unica!
Preaching blog
Posts: 8164 | From: Notre Dame, IN | Registered: Sep 2003
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Autenrieth Road
Shipmate
# 10509
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Posted
Frithwynne eyed the remnants. She didn't know what the group might need, but she didn't want to risk bringing possibly evil magic-materials with them. She'd let Gunriana decide if the plants, bones and minerals were safe to handle and carry with them, or not.
She set off through the city streets at a determined trot, using her maze skills to navigate back to the dwarves' house.
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Truth
Posts: 9559 | From: starlight | Registered: Oct 2005
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Net Spinster
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# 16058
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Posted
Meanwhile back at the Hawser house, the teeth collecting had lasted the whole day and into the night. Fortunately Mary's bag could hold them all. In the middle of the night, after the waning moon had risen, Mary, Gunni, and the several guild members returned to the dwarves' house with teeth. Amfi and Mawd remained behind to guard and guide the rest of the household.
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spinner of webs
Posts: 1093 | From: San Francisco Bay area | Registered: Dec 2010
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Eliab
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# 9153
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Posted
Gunriana stepped away from the wall and out of the shadows, looking down at Foret and Er as if in a dream. "It was written" she tells herself, insistently, "It was written long ago, before any of us were born." She knows it is true, but cannot shake the feeling of guilt. She had chosen the door, and two of her friends, sworn companions, had gone to their deaths.
There are no words to comfort them, and no way of knowing whether Foret and Er would forgive her from whatever world they had gone to. She whispers quietly.
"I am sorry, dear friends. I failed you. If you are angry with me, all I ask is that you turn your anger on our enemies first. Then, as you wish."
She kneels by each body and fumbles for the wolf's tooth at her neck. With long, deliberate strokes she marks each on the breast with Yr, the deep-rooted one, the over-shadower, the bearer of the bright fruits of death.
"No spells, no prayers, no gods shall hinder you, my friends. Go where you are fated to go. Bring to the bright halls your love and your hate. Do not mourn your fate, for you were true friends, and died with your face to your foes, and you are remembered with honour. None in the grave can wish for more than that. Farewell, until the tides carry we who are left to the same shore."
She stands up and walks slowly down the stairs.
[ 31. October 2014, 21:09: Message edited by: Eliab ]
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"Perhaps there is poetic beauty in the abstract ideas of justice or fairness, but I doubt if many lawyers are moved by it"
Richard Dawkins
Posts: 4619 | From: Hampton, Middlesex, UK | Registered: Mar 2005
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Eliab
Shipmate
# 9153
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Posted
Reaching the smashed chests, Gunriana hesitates. Time is short, yet there was something amongst this debris that Yaris had guarded with a powerful, and costly, death-rite.
There is no time to examine everything - and only one way she knows to find what they need. Her mothers had taken from her with dark delight. It was possible that they were now in the mood to be generous.
Gunriana snatches the worn silk glove from her left hand, flexes her fingers, and, fixing her eyes away from the floor, searching out the darkest shadows in the chamber, she blindly scratches Fe, the gift-rune, the bringer of fortune, into the polished floor.
"Mothers - show me what I will need!" she implores the Fates, and then snatches up as many of the scattered objects as catch her eyes.
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"Perhaps there is poetic beauty in the abstract ideas of justice or fairness, but I doubt if many lawyers are moved by it"
Richard Dawkins
Posts: 4619 | From: Hampton, Middlesex, UK | Registered: Mar 2005
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Eliab
Shipmate
# 9153
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Posted
Gunriana's hands move quickly, seizing object after object - a box of sharp-scented herbs, a crack crystal lens, a knife with an awkwardly twisted marble handle, two fused bones from some unidentifiable creature, a twist of parchment stained with crimson powder - none of them known to her craft, and none of them, even as she gathers them, seems significant.
One stroke of the Fe rune was cut deeper than the others, and as she snatches up one of the parchment twists, it spills, the red powder spilling out and sending up a thin wisp of greenish-brown smoke as it settles into the line of the rune. Gunriana's eyes follow the pattern of the cut, and she knows instantly that she has found what she seeks.
A small flask, made from thick crystal, has rolled away from the wreckage of the smashed chests, rests against the wall. She steps quickly to the side, and takes it. Inside is a viscous dark fluid almost filling the vessel, which might be blood, or some preparation made from blood. This was something the enemy valued, and therefore something the Mothers had placed in her hand.
There is no time to search the rest of the scattered objects. Gunriana straightens up and runs after the others.
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"Perhaps there is poetic beauty in the abstract ideas of justice or fairness, but I doubt if many lawyers are moved by it"
Richard Dawkins
Posts: 4619 | From: Hampton, Middlesex, UK | Registered: Mar 2005
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