Tomb of the Lost

[Vaitris]

[OOC: Hau backs off from Kira, asks Sarkany if they’ve found an exit from the tomb.]

As Hau edged closer the little bat creature’s cries only escalated. With a wince, and another wary glance at the man hunched over the chess board, he backed off. It was no surprise really and she did finally calm a little once her companion, the man Sara had called Sarkany, addressed her. Just in case, though, he decided to give her extra space. No sense upsetting her more if he could help it.

Hau retrieved the torch again, listened as Sara and Sarkany talked, interest piqued by what the other man had to say. Now no longer occupied by just surviving, Hau’s thoughts kept circling back to one thing: escape. What had Sarkany and the bat creature been through? What had they seen? Had they found any clues? Any signs of any exit? He chewed on the questions a while, anxious, waiting for a lull in his conversation with Sara.

“How much do you know about this place?” Hau questioned softly, finding his gaze flickering over to the muttering man again even as he asked. He really didn’t want to let that thing out of his sight. “Do you have any idea how to get out of here?”

[jarahamee]

[OOC: Cassius agrees to going back the way Draggo came, and to try communication with the rat creatures. He leaves the sword behind, and searches for another sword in the way that Draggo recommended.]

Had he imagined Sarkany's voice? He imagined a great many things in the darkness, but it was not as if the man was within his easy reach. Rather, it was a voice like he heard when the rat-man had died in his hands. By his ear, yet not here at all. He looked deeply into the darkness, but saw nothing. Perhaps there was no time left. And was Sarkany really here? Or was this another trick? No time.

The youth he was with seemed emotionally exhausted, and who would not be? This was a harrowing experience for an adult, much less a child like this one. Cassius' tense expression relaxed into a sympathetic one, though his face did have an inherent sinister quality that was difficult to shed completely. The youth needed a moment to regroup, and he would give it to him. He paused, considering, and then put a hand on his shoulder, hesitantly. A scarred hand missing several fingertips.

His voice was as gentle as it could be (it was still fairly gruff, all things considered).

"Yes, we can return that way. A map would be helpful to us. I have the note, perhaps we can construct something. As for the rats; I am unsure how they see us, or how they are humans. We could try speaking to them, but perhaps pantomiming may be better if we encounter them again."

He turned, following Draggo, taking his hand off him to carry it at a neutral place by his side. He strode to return to the place the dragon guided them, back down the second path, taking a defensive, flanking position by the youngster. He wished he had fresh water available; the blood on his chest and face was starting to become unpleasantly sticky, and he did not like the Beast's uncomfortable suggestion lick it off

"Do you know Sarkany?"

He asked, as if the idea came into his head suddenly. Not a conversation-starter, but rather an idea he thought might be a little bit mad making itself into a presence in his mind. Was Sarkany really here? Was he trapped and in pain? It was conceivable, though the only person he had seen die had been the person he had slain himself. The blood's pleasant taste lingered in his mouth, and he felt a prickle of shame in his chest.

[okami1reeka333]

{OOC: Huffs and tries to talk to Cassius. feels very ignored and unwanted.]

the orange flame behind the two seemed to huff in exasperation when he was frankly ignored. . .can they even hear him? was he just there to witness more people die? being good hurts. It hurts like hell, but he didn't like the idea of them dying, little alone, losing himself to whatever is making bad decisions hurt less.

so again, he attempts to talk to the wolfman- even though he cant see him, or know what form he is in, just hears him. "wait, can you hear me? do you see where my body is? please get the items from it, whatever will help you two. " he pleaded.

[NightshadeVII]

[OOC: Edge questions Marche-flame about everything he said. Then he proceeds to throw the falconer glove into the well to judge the depth of it. Also places his hand on the inside of the well, to see if he can sense how deep it is.]

As the flame appeared out of nowhere, Edge startled, again preparing himself for the horrible pain of burning, unconsciously curling up on himself, away from the sudden green fire that hovered in the room now. And yet, once more no pain came, instead a familiar voice spoke out. Marchelute. But... but he was dead. How was that possible? The only thing he knew that could do something even remotely close to that was Eda, but that was back home, and definitely not here. Every time something new happened, the Darai was left with more questions than answers. Marchelute didn’t exactly help, speaking in vauge hints like some sort of sage or hermit from a fantasy novel.
Someone fell, and things needed to be fixed, but this someone had fallen a long way, so he needed a rope. He assumed that “Marchelute” meant the well, and glanced at it again. He needed to determine just how deep that thing was. But he wasn’t about to go diving into wells based on nothing more than vauge explanations.

So the Darai returned his eyes to the flame, the green light reflecting in his purple eyes, creating a kind of iridescence.
“Who fell?“, he then asked, his voice soft, but tired and suspicious. He didn’t know what to trust anymore, and a part of him thought that this was all just a little too convienient.
“Finish what? What is it that we need to fix and finish?”

While he questioned the flame, he pulled the falconer glove from his belt. The material was stiff and had a nice weight to it. Hopefully it would be enough, if not, he threw away a good glove for nothing. As the silence stretched for a moment, Edge dropped the glove down the well to gauge the depth of it. While keeping track of how long the glove fell, he also placed his hand on the inside of the late, hoping that he might be able to sense the depth of it.

Then, with that said and done, he looked back at the flame, one last question still on his lips.
“And where can I find a rope in this place?”

[MP]

Ari:
Items: hunting horn

A blink. And without warning, as if waking from a daydream, the altar is empty. There is no figurine, no statues in the surrounding alcoves, no tunneled holes in the wall. Even the rubble in the altar slots has gone. A grey film of dust coats the room, dry and crackling underfoot, as if these surfaces have been empty, unattended, for a long time. Should Ari reach for his panther side, he finds no response. It seems the altar has taken more than just the idol. Ari is left with only two stone doors, his own human shape, and the dust. But in return, the shadows seem to have lessened a little - an indoor gloom instead of the former dark.  

This boon, at least, is helpful to Ari as he peers through the door ahead. He can make out the details of the room at a glance. It's a four-way intersection, coated with more of the odd grey dust. Beneath the crust, the walls are bare and torchless. There are curtained alcoves along the north and south passages (Ari's door is at the end of the latter), but unlike the hallway he once traveled with Sara, Hau, and Grace, these alcoves are empty. No mummies. No items. Instead, there's a blaze in the south passage - disembodied fires that start near the floor of the intersection and trail up into the righthand alcove.

The touch of the firelight sears Ari's face, his eyes, blistering his fingers where they grip the door. No fire should give off this kind of heat, or burn in empty air. The pain is incredible even from this distance. Worse - even if Ari makes it past the fire, he can see the north door. It's currently aJar, and a second flame burns in the open doorway. His only other option is to chance his luck with the east or west passages, out of sight around the corner. And there's an unpleasant sound - a papery crackle, and a heavy thumping - approaching from the west passage.

Through the heat of the flame, Ari can see a familiar grey monstrosity stepping from the west passage. The same crusted face. The same towering body. Only, this one moves more deliberately. This one feels its way forward on a set of powerful arms. This one swings its head to face him. Considering first the shifter, then the flame at the opposite door.



Cassius and Draggo:
Cassius' items: burning torch, sturdy rope, scholar's note 2
Draggo's items: broken flint necklace

They're back at the door to the hallway. It opens to the same intersecting passageways. The same broken torch holders and the same curtained alcoves. Only, things have changed since they've been gone. 

The door at the other end of the hallway - the door leading back to the altar room - is open. They passed through it only minutes before. But now the interior, or what they can see at least, has gone unnaturally dark. The alcoves and the statues and the waiting altar are little more than smudges. Even if the companions wanted to approach, the hallway has its own hazards.

The opposite end of their passage, the area before the altar room door, is aflame. Mummies lie like dead insects, limbs curled, flames licking at their parchment flesh and trailing along the ropes.
The air is filled with the stench of desiccated, burning flesh. And even if the companions were willing to brave this much, there's something in the intersection blocking it. 

A thump, thump, thump is echoing from the righthand passage. It sounds like the grey, crusted pursuer of before - almost. But these footsteps are heavier. More deliberate than the dragging steps of before. And the grey creature didn't have arms before. 

A grey set of fingers curls around the corner, crackling as they feel over the stone. A faceless head turns slowly. First to its right, toward the dark altar room. Then to their own doorway, the head tipping like a scenting dog. The grey creature steps out into the intersection. It turns toward Cassius and the dragon, moving forward on paced, but noticeably faster steps.



Sara, Hau, Kira, and Sarkany:
Sara's items: old spear, broken knife, seeing stone

Hau's items: mand pelt, dying torch

Kira's items: king's seal, carved fragment

Sarkany's items: simple knife, human effigy, 

A scarred hand ruffles the fur between Kira's ears - a gentle pat. Sarkany offers no more in the way of comfort - only keeps his hand, and the figurine within it, in easy reach of the burbat's, letting the power do its work. And it does seem to Kira that, the longer she's in contact with it, the less her wounds seem to throb. The dribble of blood down her torn leg and degloved claw has slowed. The wounds don't look quite as angry as she first thought - perhaps the idol's doing; perhaps just coincidence and better lighting. 

Sarkany's condition may have stabilized, but the rot doesn't seem to be improving. He listens to Sara quietly, his gaze almost absent, until the mention of the ifrit.

"Marchelute?" The first note of sharpness in the word. 

He lowers his eyes. Considers for a long moment. 

"Let me down, Vahi - go on. I can manage. If the grey is as close as you say, we should finish here as soon as possible. I wouldn't w-waste time on him - " A nod toward the robed figure, still hunched and muttering, "- unless he's gotten more talkative since I was last here."

Sarkany doesn't wait for Sara to guide him this time. He moves to the door across from the one he and Kira came from, ushering the burbat gently along, and stands before it, half listening, half leaning. Watching this through the lens, Sara sees nothing especially noteworthy. A moderate amount of the grey crust. Remnants of old pustules. These look deflated, punctured, as if something has deliberately popped them. 

"First thing you should know," Sarkany answers Hau. "There's beasts on our tail too. Two rooms back." He nods at the door they came from. "They don't burn like a grey, and I d-don't think they followed. But they're strong. Disarmed me like I was a p-pup. I wouldn't take my chances."

Evidently satisfied with what he hears, he puts his shoulder to the door and begins to push, gradually.

"As for exits," He pauses again to listen. Resumes his efforts. "I'd guess the big s-sun door back past the horses. Looks grand enough. Only thing I haven't been able to open. And there was a sword down one of its side doors - someone unlocked it before he died. It m-matched that funny slit in the wall." A troubled pause. "Before the beast took it."



Edge:
Items: chipped knife, simple knife, general's note 1, silver chain

The glove is swallowed up by the light almost at once. Edge hears a scuff as it rebounds off stone. Then silence. Silence. A distant splash. The fall isn't endless at least. Perhaps not out of reach of a climbing rope. But it's still beyond Edge's range of stone sense, and the sides feel too smooth to climb. Without knowing how deep the water might be, there's no telling if the distance is survivable. 

Meanwhile, the residue is a constant ache in Edge's head, throbbing like a foreign pulse. He can feel it through the lefthand door, through the door behind him, all throughout the place. Still building.

The strongest concentration is somewhere to the rear left of him. There is another, smaller concentration past that. The touch of them against his mind leaves him with a cold, oily feeling, as if he might be sick. But at the farthest concentration of the stuff, back in the direction of the bright room, Edge feels another sensation- a pinprick; afracture. It feels as if something is disrupting the spread, if only a little.

[kilnarak]

[ Ari takes one look down the hall with the fire and the grey-thing and he says: NOPE. He examines the wall where a tunnel was, and provided no tunnel magically appears, he'll go back through the rubble-crawl he had entered from. ]

When he placed the figure on the altar, it felt as if the world shifted, the change abrupt and disorienting. Ari swayed at the sensation of the change, at the sense of something wrong in him, though he wasn't sure what. At least the room seemed to brighten slightly, but there was a crusty film coating everything in the room. He took a step back from the altar, looking around uncertainly.

The effigy was gone, the statues were gone, the tunnels were gone. It had seemed right to place the effigy there, as if that was where it belonged, but now he wasn't sure he had made the right choice. Well, the door he had meant to go through was still there, at least. He approached it, pushed it open and peered out. The hallway he looked into was vaguely familiar, as was the greenish fire blazing at the opposite end of the long stretch. But now it wasn't a comfort, now it burned his eyes, made his skin itch and blister.

He withdrew from the door quickly, hissing under his breath and trying to close off the doorway. He couldn't go that way. As if to emphasize the point, another of those grey slug creatures appeared from around a bend in the hall, peering toward him, then away. No, that way was definitely out.

He moved away from the door to examine one of the spaces where a tunnel had been, running his hands over the stone of the walls and frowning. If he couldn't go out the door, and he couldn't go down the tunnels... then that left the claustrophobic crawl through the rubble again. He loathed the idea but... well if he had to, he would do it. Maybe more had changed as well? Maybe he was lucky and the rubble had vanished just like the statues and stuff in this room? He hoped so, but he doubted it.

[jarahamee]

[Cassius becomes aware of the darkness, and the goo-man, and decides to veer left, away from the goo-man and into the new room]

Cassius thinks he hears someone talking, and wonders if this is the same illusionary voice as before.

“I can hear you. Where did you fall?”

He was apprehensive about listening to strangers, but not closed to it. Who knew what would happen in this dark place.

Cassius followed Draggo down the hallway, only to find their progress blocked by oppressive-looking darkness. One that would not be dispelled by a torch-light. Could this be the darkness they were told about? Either way, he did not wish to pass through it. There could be anything hiding there, and it may cause them harm. Well, more harm than it did already. He made the curled half-snarl of annoyance and turned sharply to look upon their other options.

The werewolf moved to peer down the set of doorways, and then saw the strange gray creature staring back at him. The wrong way, and it was after them now, faster than before, not dragging its body. They would have to be careful not to become trapped. He made a soft huff sound under his breath. They could use a second torch to defend themselves, and perhaps, Draggo would be able to light his way as well.

Cassius moved towards the left door, gesturing that Draggo should follow him, and quickly. He had no desire to have either of them burned by the strange creatures-caustic touch, and perhaps there was another way around in this labyrinth. Where was the other sword hiding? There had to be another one hidden somewhere, but they needed to unlock the way and find the answers.

"Here..." He whispered, his voice as low as it could be. His eyes were wide and beastly, alert, listening. He felt in tune to this strange place, and yet...

[Pearl Dragon]

[Kira keeps hold of the man and figurine, and allows herself to be led to the door.]

Kira felt a shudder run through her body as the man ruffled the fur on her head. When it ended, she marveled at the way the figurine seemed to dull the painful throb in her jaw and wing, and even the shredded flesh of her hand seemed not so bad. Perhaps it will grow back? Perhaps...although she wasn't hopeful. She was hopeful that it wasn't as bad as she'd thought, though, and that was something at least.

As the other's continued to talk, Kira listened wordlessly, glancing every so often at the others nervously. After all the excitement, she still wasn't sure if she could trust them, but the man now obviously knew who they were and that helped tremendously. Only the muttering old man seemed to sit on the edge of her distrust, despite his lack of movement and action against them. Her eyes flitted to him occasionally, if only to make sure he was still seated where they'd found him.

"There's beasts on our tail too. Two rooms back." The man explained, "They don't burn like a grey, and I d-don't think they followed. But they're strong. Disarmed me like I was a p-pup. I wouldn't take my chances." Kira made a small noise of agreement, raising one open palmed hand in signal of the many-armed thing then rubbed gingerly at her jaw. It was the only way she could show them what it had done to her as well. At the small touch, Kira's hand flinched away again as if slapped and she winced. When they'd begun to move again, Kira allowed herself to be led towards the door, but she was sure to keep one hand on the man's arm and the figurine. Her bad arm tucked against her chest, still grasping her own two objects. The others she kept in her peripherals as best as she could, still wary but otherwise grateful that they hadn't yet tried to do any harm.

[NightshadeVII]

[OOC: Edge opens the other door in the room, to see what lies beyond, but doesn’t pass through and remains ready to shut the door, in case that becomes needed. He isn’t going anywhere before he gets some answers from Marche-flame.]

Okay, it seemed that both dropping and climbing down the well was out of the question. Great. Just great. That left one door, unless he wanted to backtrack through the awful collapsed corridor. Edge sighed, his shoulders sagging as he approached the other door in the room, hopefully there wouldn’t be some nasty monster or fire or any other kind of unwelcome surprise hiding behind it.
The moment his hands rested against the door, he stopped. The urge to just... give up rolling over him again. He had wasted too much time here already. Who knew wha had happened to Faolan, he had yelled so long ago and Edge still hadn’t gotten to him. Some boyfriend he was. He had nothing in the way of direction or answers or even the slightest idea of what was going on here other than the one note he had found and he wasn’t even sure what that related to.
He felt like he was being dragged in circles.

Another sigh pushed past his lips, and he opened the door, carefully, ready to shut the door again should he need it. Then he turned, back to look at the green flame in the room. He wasn’t going anywhere without answers.

[Vaitris]

[OOC: Hau notices the torch is dying. Before they leave the room, he’s going to look around for anything to fuel it or replace it.]

Hau felt a flicker of hope at the mention of the sun door, a potential escape from this hell, but it just as quickly guttered. A sword, taken by a beast? His hand drifted up to cover the wound on his shoulder uneasily, a shiver shaking through him. Would they need that to leave since it matched the slit Sarkany mentioned? Would he have to face that shadow again? Maybe it was a different sword... taken by a different monster. Regardless how he tried to spin it, it sounded dangerous, potentially fatal, to try and retrieve. He sucked in a breath, considering.

It was then he noticed his torch was burning low. Cupping his hand around it, he blew gently on the flame, trying to coax it back. The effort probably wouldn't be enough. But he absolutely didn't want to let it go out. Beyond its obvious utility as a light and a weapon, it was comforting to have and he felt good in a childish way to have something in his hands to distract him.

"Wait just a second." He addressed the others. Before they left the room he cast about, looking for something flammable, anything he might be able to wrap around the head of the torch to feed the flame, or any other unlit torches that could be used instead. He made his search quick, though, wary of the beasts Sarkany had mentioned and the faceless thing just outside the middle door. "The fire's dying, I don't want it to go out." If he didn't find anything, he'd follow them out of the room, but he intended to keep searching the areas beyond.

[Marshmallow]

[Marche ghost haunts Edge some more.]


Who fell? Finish what? He knew and he didn't at the same time. It was as though whatever force was behind the tomb were pulling him in every direction at once.
The fire flickered. His awareness, that fragile thread, frayed a little more.


"I don't..." Marchelute started, and then fell silent for a beat. When he continued, his voice was hushed, rambling as though through a rising panic. "Edge. I can hear you, but... I cannot see. Everything is darkness. I think I'm..."

The flame shuddered in the air.

"I... I don't know where it is, only that it is. And you need it. You need to reach it, or find an alternative. You need to go down there." There was urgency in the voice now, a sharp edge to his words. Like they were running out of time. "This... This place, it was built for Him. But then... Traitor. Usurper. It's all... all wrong, now. And it will never stop."


Another flicker, a long silence. A distant, rumbling growl. Impatient.

"Looking for him is a waste of time. You won't find him. It was already too late by the time we heard him screaming..." he warned, almost hissing the words. The tone shifted mid-sentence from sympathetic to... almost cruel, taunting even. "The only way to save what's left of him now is to end this."

[Sharei]

[OOC: Draggo goes with Cassius down the other hall and away from creepy monsterface. He talks about Sarkany.]



The juvenile turned with Cassius, more out of instinct than out of desire, and hustled after him. The creature they'd seen down the hallway had set his skin to crawling, heightening his already disturbingly high alarm. Why were there so many of these things running around the hallways?! What were they? Probably hostile, and he certainly didn't want to stop and find out.

To distract himself from the creeping fear the dragon decided to focus on the human's question, and answered quietly as they crept away through the door. "Sarkany is my dad," he explained, casting a furtive look over his shoulder. "He sounded hurt. Do you... think he's okay?" He didn't really want the answer to that.

[tsukikoko]

[OOC: Sara follows Sarkany, keeping close in case it seems he'll lose strength again. When Hau explains about the flame she too looks for anything that might feed it and takes a brief, closer look at whatever game the muttering man might be playing. Also explains how groups sometimes hurt each other. Should the others go through the door, she follows.]

Sara pursed her lips a little as she looked through the stone, perplexed by the deflated pustules. Did that mean the greys could be damaged? Perhaps by Edge, or Marchelute, people on whatever other plane existed in this place. She didn't know, but regardless, it felt like something worth noting - maybe somehow the various groups could help each other.

Speaking of which, Sarkany had mentioned a number of interesting and unnerving things; namely the beasts on their tail, clearly something different from the greys, given he mentioned them so specifically. Then there was the giant door by the horses, a room she was markedly familiar with.
"Why aye man, I know the room ya mean, like." Another glance at the door she and Hau had come through, as the shifter followed close behind Sarkany, lest his strength fail and she need to prop him. "Nowt gannin' tee it the way Hau an' I came though. As for ya beasts like, cannae 'elp wonderin' if they ain't all they seem, ya know? Marchelute an' Edge were 'urtin' us, like, an' our fire were 'urtin' them. As if this place were pittin' us against one another..."

Before she could continue her train of thought, however, Hau mentioned the flame was beginning to die. Given it warded off the dark, Sara would rather not see it go out.
"Oh, just give us a tick." She murmured, before beginning to help look for something to feed it with, starting with the bookshelf, while also drawing closer to the man and his game, whatever it might be. She was curious, especially since he was so brazenly here, so different from the other denizens of the tomb. The shifter tried to get a look at what he was hunched over, in case she could make any sort of sense of it; the board might look like a chessboard, but that didn't necessarily mean it was chess.

If she found anything at the bookshelf that could help with the fire, or told her anything about this tomb, the shifter spent a few moments grabbing it/reading over it. She snuck a look at the man's game on the way by, presuming he didn't suddenly leap out to grab her and then, if nothing especially interesting happened, Sara followed the rest out through the door.

[MP]

ALL: A pang strikes your chest like the toll of a bell. You feel the weight of many eyes on you. A shadow like yawning jaws. Something else has gotten through. More and more, these pangs are beginning to feel interconnected. Many parts of an ancient, nearing whole.



Ari:
Items: hunting horn

After another cramped crawl through the collapse, a familiar door appears through the rubble. It grinds open as Ari sets his weight to it, the same weight, the same rubble around it. Only, when it opens, the room is different. 

Ari is met with a wash of brilliant light - a blazing disk set in the center of the floor. Unlike the hallway and its fires, this light causes no pain. If anything, it's a soothing, reassuring presence. But it wipes the brickwork clean of shadows, lays the corners bare, and the room has a flat, disorienting feel without the dimension of shadows. It has similar dimensions as the well room. The disk matches the proportions of the earlier hole. There is even faint texturing along the wall to his right and an open door across from his own that matches the former layout. But there's no explanation for the light - or the stranger standing across from him. 

A tall youth dark-haired youth is standing in the opposing door. He appears to have been caught in the act of leaving - caught just as he glanced back into the room. The light off the disk fires his face the same stark white, making it difficult to gauge the stranger's expression. 



Cassius and Draggo:
Cassius' items: dying torch, sturdy rope, scholar's note 2
Draggo's items: broken flint necklace

In that backward glance, as Cassius retreats and leads them toward the lefthand door of the gallery, the dragon sees movement. The door behind them is opening. The other side of it is carved with a snarling visage. The sliver of room beyond it is dark. Empty. There's no one on the other side.

Instead, darkness seeps through the open door. The gallery begins to dim around them, columns fading to outlines. And as they push through to the next room, the pair can swear they hear the pawing of hooves.

Then the sounds cut off behind them. The door swings shut. Cassius and the dragon are in a small rectangular room, in what appears to be a hunter's trove. Piles of furs, sealed black jars, ivory boxes, and bestial skulls lie against the far wall. There are two mummified hounds - yellowed teeth grinning through dry black gums - lying sphinx-like in front of the trove. A life-sized statue stands against the back wall, blank clay eyes staring over the trove. Its right hand is oddly curled, as if an object once rested there. The left hand is caging something small and soft. Whatever it is, the fingers are fused around it. One would need to chip at the clay in order to extract it. 

There is also a door in the righthand wall, just before the hounds and the trove - the only exit unless the pair chooses to try their chances in the room they came from.



Sara, Hau, Kira, and Sarkany
Sara's items: old spear, broken knife, seeing stone
Hau's items: maned pelt, dying torch
Kira's items: king's seal, carved fragment
Sarkany's items: simple knife, human effigy

As Sara looks over the board, the man's muttering resolves into audible words. He repeats scraps of phrases over and over, a rambling monotone.

"-shall rise the second sun and ye shall know him by his strength and I am not wrong and he shall reign and ye shall know him and by his strength he shall rise and he shall reign and I am not wrong and he shall rise and he shall reign and ye shall know-"

The muttering goes on. The old man doesn't so much as glance at Sara. His eyes are like marbles, white and featureless, fixed on the board.

It's a strange, tiled game Sara has never seen before. The tiles are unevenly placed, grouped toward one side of the board and with no distinguishing marks. There are no pieces currently on the board. But there's a black figurine clutched in his hand, smooth and featureless as a chess pawn. A second figurine is lying unattended by his hand. This one is plain stone, similar in size and proportion to the one Sarkany holds. However, it's etched with sweeping shapes down one half of the back, and a long curling line that twines about the legs. Nothing about the board or pieces suggests how the game is meant to be played, and the man shows no sign of starting.

The bookshelf, while less confusing, offers little in the way of fuel. Most of the books have been ruined by age and water damage. Their pages stick together in a warped grey mush, and the soft covers crumble in Sara's hands. Only one seems remotely salvageable. Some of its pages are stuck or torn, but it opens to a page of geometric characters that blur as Sara stares, forming damaged but readable English. 

...shall rise the s̴e̸c̵o̷n̵d̸ ̶s̷oṅ̶̺ of the Center Kingdom, the promised king, and his ascent will mark a final end to the affliction. And he shall make whole the scattered aspects. And h̶e̷ ̶s̴h̴a̷l̷l̷ ̴d̶r̷ive the Beast as the flood drives the drought. And he shall cast it̵̻͗ ̸̳̍d̸̩͆o̸wn where it will harm no living man again. Ye shall know him by hi̷̕s̴̙͆ ̸lï̷̠g̴̲̚h̷̔t, and by his strength, and by the p̷̨̒u̵r̷̖͗í̸͍t̶̟͗y̴ ̶̮̋ö̶̞f his mind and form, that even the Great Be̷a̷s̵t̷ cannot twist. His rise will be as a new dawn. And he shall reign in eternal glory.

The rest is illegible. Burnable, if Sara chooses to feed the flame. But it's a meager offering. The only other object on the bookshelf is a strange heart-shaped carving. It's made from a dark, smooth material, runed across its surface, veins and arteries protruding in a single simplified socket. Not even remotely burnable.

Hau's luck is little better when it comes to fuel. The only other object in the room is the box-like table across from the bookshelf, waist-height and set with a shallow impression in the surface. This impression is disk-shaped, palm-sized. A series of small sockets and protrusions indicate that the indicate that the missing object is meant to be slotted in. The surface around the impression is carved with kneeling human figures, their arms raised in supplication, their faces turned toward the empty space. None of this helps with the torch, which seems to have burned through the oily pitch at its end and is eating into the wood. Unless a replacement is found, the flame is unlikely to last.

Only the hole in the far wall remains to be searched, and nothing is immediately visible in the mouth. It continues deep into the wall - more than a body length. Perhaps more than several. But past the first few yards, little can be seen through the dark.

The damage to Kira's wing and leg feels more like a scrape instead of a tear. The pain in her claw is even bearable. Looking down, it seems that she overestimated the damage in the dark. Her claw is badly scraped, but not degloved. The membrane of her wing still clothes the bone, even if it's badly torn. She may even be able to fly through the pain. Sarkany's breathing has likewise steadied, and he opens the door with only a little trouble; however, the rot doesn't seem to be improving.

Looking with Sarkany through the open door, Kira sees a familiar flooded room through the crack. The same black mold. The same squat statue, its many yawning mouths just visible above the surface of the water. But one thing in the room is new: something is wading toward them, slow and ponderous. A doughy grey body. A featureless, crusted face. Sarkany has seen it too. He shuts the door quickly, heedless of the scrape of his blackened flesh against the stone. 

"Another grey coming," he says, looking back at them. "I think they know where we are." 



Edge:
Items: silver chain

As the door grinds open, the smell of mold and damp and something sharply clay-like washes over Edge's face. He's staring down a long flooded room and a distant door opposite his own. The floor has sunken in, stone bricks sloping into a darkly discolored pool. Murky shapes are just visible at the bottom. All that's left above water is the thresholds of the doors and a narrow lip of stone, mold-crusted and dripping, around the edges of the room. That and a stone statue half submerged in the center of the lake - a crude lump of stone, four-faced, so that its wide black mouths yawn at the viewer no matter where in the room they stand.

There's something striding through the water, grey and crusted and - thankfully - moving away. The entity is focused on the other end of the room, only yards away from it, pushing toward the open sliver where the far door hangs ajar. As Edge watches, the door slams shut, moved by an unseen force. Even now, the entity ignores him. It continues with a mindless quality, more like a plant seeking sun than a thinking being. For the moment, it seems oblivious to his presence - a lucky thing, because something is moving in Edge's room. 

As Edge looks back, he can see that the door he came from is opening, pushed by unfamiliar hands. A man is stepping into the room, crawling out from the rubble. Dark-skinned, dark-haired, lightly spotted. They stand at opposing doors, staring back at each other. The disk - the well - blazes across their features.

[NightshadeVII]

[OOC: Edge attempts to close the door, and then, once he hears what Marche-flame has to say: DenialTM. Then questions the newcomer in the room]

A shiver ran down his spine as he saw the creature lurking around in the water. He didn’t want to encounter whatever that was, so that route was out of the question. Great. With another sigh and a sagging of his shoulders he attempted to close the door, not wanting the creature to suddenly take notice of him.

Behind him he could hear Marche speak again, his voice sounded panicked, afraid and confused, which was understandable. Edge thought he had died, but apparently he hadn’t, or at the very least he hadn’t been allowed to find rest, which was just as disturbing a thought. The Darai drew breath to speak, hoping he might be able to calm Marchelute down, but he didn’t get that far. The familiar voice in the flame spoke again, this time of a usurper, a traitor that had made everything wrong somehow. And again, the voice reminded him that he needed to go down there. He assumed that was the well, hoped that it wasn’t the water where the creature lurked.

But then, what the flame said next made Edge freeze, immobilizing him entirely, the words clutching around his heart in an iron grip, forcing it to stop.
Looking for him is a waste of time. You won’t find him.
Marche had to be speaking of Faolan. That was the only person Edge had ever mentioned, the only person he had been looking for in this place. But... but how could that be a waste of time? How could looking for his boyfriend in this horrible place be a waste of time? He wasn’t about to give up on Faolan, just because this disembodied voice told him to. He couldn’t give up on Faolan now, couldn’t just leave him here and go chase some unknown person who was who knows where. This was crazy, insane even. The Darai had experienced his fair share of strange phenomena, but nothing like this, something that at once felt so real, yet so removed from reality. The only thing he knew for sure was that he wasn’t giving up, couldn’t let Faolan down like that-
It was already too late when we heard him scream.

No...
Edge knew what Marchelute meant, but a part of him wished he didn’t, a part of him wished so desperately that Marche wasn’t referring to the person he was. The breath that pushed past his lips was trembling, his hands shaking as tears welled up in his eyes. The realization was hitting, everything he had feared since Faolan had disappeared right at the beginning came crashing down, a tsunami, knocking all air from his lungs, making words seem impossible, tearing into his heart with a kind of ruthlessness he rarely felt. Finally, his knees gave in beneath him and he sunk to the floor, his entire form trembling, frail, as he wrapped his arms around himself in an attempt to not fall apart.
He had been too late. Faolan was dead.
The first sob came now, a quiet, choked thing, that looked much more painful than it sounded, forcing him to gasp for air afterwards. And then he shattered. The sobs came rapidly, raking through his body, tearing at his throat, giving him little time to breathe. Any air that he managed to gulp down felt painful and was expelled faster than it had been drawn in, almost like a hiccup. Tears blinded him, the warm salt water welling up in his eyes, falling into the floor beneath him. His body shook violently, a force beyond his own conscious control taking over. It felt like he was shattering. Again. Though his arms wrapped around himself even tighter now, he could feel himself falling apart.
He was pathetic, a real fucking mess, like he always had been underneath it all. Who did he think he was, believing he could actually protect anyone? How the fuck could he have been so stupid?! He was nothing but a broken little pretender, trying to trick himself into thinking he could take care of others. He couldn’t do anything good for anyone. Not the friends and family he had left behind, nor the people he loved.

This was too much for him, he couldn’t take it anymore. He didn’t understand, didn’t know what was going on, didn’t know how to get out of here. Didn’t know why he had deserved it. Why Faolan had deserved it. Or Marchelute. Or Sara. Or anyone else trapped here in this hellhole. What had any of them done to end up here?!

Eyes redrimmed with tears, Edge finally looked up at the flame before him. In those purple eyes, blurred by tears, there was a new emotion. Pain and despair, a deep, old sorrow, much older than Edge appeared to be. But there was anger too, a hurting, searing kind of anger. Directed just as much at himself as the situation he was in.
Slowly, shaking, Edge pushed to his feet again.

“No... no, you’re wrong... how can you know that?”, his voice trembled, words quiet and shaky, as if he feared saying them out loud would make what he heard more true, “How the hell do you know that?! Do you know what happened to him?!”
He was breathing heavily now, chest rising and falling in a panic-like nature, as if he no longer had control of it. Tears streamed freely down blistered cheeks, the hot salt water stinging, but he barely felt it.

That was when he noticed that the other door in the room was opening, slowly. Immediately, fear and resignation mixed with the pain and the anger. Would this be another monster? Another fire that would finish him off? Who cared?
But somehow, despite it all, he was surprised to see a young man enter the room. The light made it impossible to fully gauge the others expression, figure out whether this newcomer was even remotely human at all.

“Who are you?” He asked, his voice still trembling from the tears that had choked him. Yet he sounded tired, hoarse.

[jarahamee]

[Cassius looks for a replacement torch in the room here, and takes a skin to wear around his body, like armor. He would try to chip away the corpse's fingers with a firm blow from a hard object. He would look for any signs of weapons and the sword to take with him, and looks for anything to stow in his bag here that might be of use.]

Cassius looks upon the strange room, and then makes a soft huff sound. A familiar sort of skin lays before him, and the part of him in love with the Beast wanted to take it. And why shouldn't he? The skin would provide the practical comfort of armor and a barrier against the cold of the tomb. He took one of the skins to strap across his shoulder to protect himself, and then looked in the boxes with pointed intent.

A key, an object of use, a weapon. What else could he find that would be useful against this thing. It would not stop until either they had escaped, or they had died, and one or the other was going to happen soon, that he knew. They could not become fatigued on their journey, but he could. 

If he found nothing of use, he would take a brick or hard object and strike at the close-handed statue's fingers. He was done worrying about upsetting any strange creatures, and for now, in this place, they were just withered bodies, and nothing more. What did a Roman have to fear from the dead? Especially as his time seemed to be coming to a close. 

Cassius looked over at the young dragon. They did not have long before the strange blind creature would come for them. In fact, he was feeling as if they did not have much time at all, period. Things would continue to hasten until the cycle ended and they were all dead. It was best not to linger in this dark place for too long


“Sarkany is my friend. I did not know he has more children... “

Cassius’s face tensed in a sort of ugly half-snarl, like a dog paying attention to a strange sound.

“I hope he is alright.”

He sounded dubious. He looks for a replacement torch to light with his dying one here as well, while he examines this dark place.

[kilnarak]

[ Ari will talk with Edge. ]

The crawl back through the rubble was just as unpleasant the second time as it had been the first time. At least he knew he could manage it - provided nothing shifted in the stonework. The door at the end of the crawl looked just as he remembered it, and was just as awkward to push open as the last time.

The well chamber, however, had changed drastically - it was almost blindingly bright. His pupils narrowed and he half-closed his eyes against the light - at least it didn't hurt, but it was certainly disorienting. He stood in the doorway a moment, squinting against the light and getting his bearings. The gaping mah of the well appeared to be gone, replaced by something that seemed to be emanating light. And now there was a person here.

He froze when he first saw the person - he couldn't tell who they were, either due to the bright light or simply because it was someone he didn't know. When the person spoke in a hoarse, tired voice, Ari snapped out of his brief shock and took a hesitant step forward. His arms moved to wrap over his chest, protective, one hand still gripping the horn.

"Uh. J-Just another... person trapped in this nightmare. I-I'm Ari. I uh, I don't know you, do I?" He took another uncertain step nearer, skirting around the glowing disk like he expected it to bite him. It had been a gaping mouth the first time, he didn't trust that the change in scenery had done more than place a facade over it. "You uh, you haven't-haven't found any... weird figurines have you? Th-There's an altar back that-that way, past the rubble. I-I put one on it and then... n-now I'm here..."

[tsukikoko]

[OOC: Sara decides to take the heart thing to have a better look at it once they're moving, then also tries to take the pale figurine. Assuming nothing bad happens, she ushers the group towards the unexplored hole in the wall to investigate it/go down it before the torch burns out.

[Pearl Dragon]

[Kira is not happy to see the gray and helps Sarkany shut the door.  She then begins to pull and tug at him to lead him back the way they'd come, hoping the absence of the other monsters meant they weren't being followed after all.  She also points at the disc, as if to say they should go to where it is used.]

Kira's grip on the man's hand tightened, and the hand at her chest clenched as well as another stabbing pain seized at her insides. It came with the same foreboding coldness that signified something hunting them, all around them it seemed. Kira hunched at the pain, but remained steadfast in their approach to the door. As the man (Sarkany she remembered the woman saying when they had embraced) pushed the door open, she peered through from her lower vantage. What she saw sent a wave of dread through her.

It was the same room of water and mold, the same half-sunken statue, and god knew what that was now slowly making its way through the murk towards them. She backed away with a hitched gasp, already helping to close the door even as Sarkany pushed it shut as well.

Kira looked up at Sarkany with a sharp tug on his arm. Her other arm, feeling a little better now, was pointing frantically at the door they'd come through earlier. The monsters hadn't followed them this far yet, perhaps it was safe to assume they'd moved on to another corridor? Either way, they couldn't stay and wait for the other creature to find them. Pulling a little harder now, Kira moved back, "ahgh!"-ing at them to hurry and go, that they needed to move. Her own urgency was effectively channeled in these verbal noises, her voice cracking at odd pitches. In one final attempt to communicate, she held the disc up and pointed at it as if to say they should head to where it would be useful.

[Sharei]

[OOC: Draggo tells Cassius he's going to go find Sarkany and opens the door to the next room.]


In any other scenario stumbling upon what was so obviously a treasure trove would have elicited excitement in the juvenile. Not tonight. Cassius' less than confident response had filled the young dragon with a sort of cold dread that often fueled the reckless, and it fueled him now. First Marchelute's disappearance, and now Sarkany's possible injuries? He couldn't take it. The fear for them vastly outweighed the fear for himself.

"I'm going ahead," the juvenile said, his mind made up. "Sorry. If my dad is here and hurt, I have to find him."

He didn't stop to examine the ivory boxes, even though he desperately wanted to. Nor did he join Cassius in his attempt to break apart the statue's hand. He went directly to the only other exist in the room, the door to their right, and pushed it open.