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Post by Vaitris on Oct 7, 2019 15:35:49 GMT -6
[OOC: Hau gets stabbed. He tries to get away while shoving foxfire in the shadow's (presumed) face and take Grace with him. Rolled an 8 per request.]
Maybe not that way, hmm?
Who was that? Hau's eyes flashed around himself, but there was no one present. Maybe not which way? Was that meant to be advice? Or just a ghostly echo? He really didn't have time to puzzle out the words however.
Carefully peeking through the light, Hau was just barely able to make out two shadows and he choked on the thinning air. There was more than one? And that searing sensation, it wasn't his pain. It was like the foxfire was burning them, whatever they were. The illumination didn't give him any real clues as to the identity of these presences. He could at least discern their locations, there was one stationed by each of the doors. Not good, not at all. But he and the bigfoot absolutely had to get out of this room, right now, before they both suffocated. And if he had to choose, skirting the smaller of the two shadows seemed the safer option.
Before he could move, though, the larger one was rushing across the room straight at him. Hau had a moment to realize his mistake before a sword flashed through the air, its edge lighting up with pale blue, before the tip plunged into his shoulder.
He felt a surge of adrenaline and fear whip through him, not unlike the whole-body shock that comes in dreams right as you fall from some unimaginable height but just before you rock awake, sweaty and surprised. But he didn't wake up. His already laboring heart lurched into higher gear, beating like a hummingbird's wings against his ribcage. Agony sparked and burned through his shoulder, echoing down his arm and into his chest. He screamed, a sound he didn't recognize as his own. Why wasn't he waking up? The thought consumed him, even as the pain pushed it out of the way. His foxfire sputtered noticibly, going dark for a moment before flickering back to life at less than its full strength.
Feeling like he was moving in slow motion, Hau recoiled from the shadow, pulling himself off the blade and watching morbidly as his blood caught the light. His mind screamed at him to escape, the door was still close by. He had to dispel the foxfire - it was attracting too much attention, too much predatory anger - and make a run for it. But before he let it go, he slammed the flame down into the shadow that had attacked him. Hau didn't consider himself a vindictive person but in this situation, with his good sense bogged down in wild panic and ripping pain, he wanted that thing to burn.
He got one last glimpse at the doorway before the light winked out and he stumbled towards it, pulling at the bigfoot to follow, not even considering that she might be safer off without him.
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Post by tsukikoko on Oct 7, 2019 16:18:42 GMT -6
[OOC: Sara helps Ari to his feet, only to immediately try and stop him before he runs off down the hallway. He still breaks away and though she wants to sprint after him, she follows more slowly, trying to stay alert for traps in the walls and floors.]
Sara had been listening attentively and had turned her gaze to the horn he mentioned, when Ari suddenly gasped and crumpled forward. The shifter was at his side in a heartbeat, placing the spear aside so that she could use both hands to help support him. She looked around his feet, checked his back and chest for signs of injury. Even though she had had been hardened, relatively, compared to her other experiences in these hellscapes, Sara couldn't stop her inherent protectiveness of other people and it showed in the urgency of her words. "Bloody 'ell! Give us a look. Are ya alreet, do ya 'urt anywhere? What-?" He answered her rising question with talk of something bad, that something had hurt him - Marchelute, presumably. A shared pain? Similar to herself and Bruse?
The man was up, trying to run down the unnerving hallway without a thought to what lay ahead. She knew that drive all too well, knew she would have done the same in his position. But still she had to stop him. "Wait! Stop!" In desperation, the shifter threw her arms in his direction, trying to catch Ari in a half-hold, half-hug, "Ya cannae just run after 'im like this; I know, I know 'ow it feels, 'ow 'ard it is tah know they're sufferin', like, but ya no good to 'im dead!" Hopefully, Sara at least managed to check his advance long enough to continue her assertions. "We need tah go careful, like, nowt git caught owt ourselves. This could be a trap, ya know? Draw ya in with what ya love most. These places, they're made tah mess with our 'eads. I know it ain't fair, but we 'ave tah be calm, for 'is sake."
Even as she spoke, she shifter cast a distrustful eye across the hallway, tracing the floor, the ceiling, the walls, looking for places where a stone might be loose, or a trap could be poised. But it seemed Ari had no intention of waiting and as he wrenched himself free she found herself instinctively running a few paces after him, only to pull up very suddenly and sharply as Aaron's words rang in her head; ....that we'd just watch you sacrifice yourself? What you're saying doesn't save people Sara - that's what gets them killed. She was repeating past mistakes. If she ran after him, in the same hell for leather fashion, they could both be slaughtered by some unseen horror down the hallway. So, though her body trembled with the effort of it, the shifter turned and charged back for the spear, not wanting to leave a potential weapon and protection behind.
When she moved after Ari, Sara was by no means unhurried or lethargic, but she took her time to check in front of herself, on the walls, even lifting away the curtain to check behind the fabric. The only other thing she could think of to do was call out, hoping her voice reached him before the man ran too far away, "Just shout which direction ya end up goin', for Christ's sake!"
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Post by beastly on Oct 7, 2019 17:17:48 GMT -6
Ooc: Grace books it and is socially awkward
--- She couldn't help the terrified yelp that escaped when the blue guy was stabbed.
"Oh my god!"
Having someone else to worry about stabilized her worried and shaking mind. She couldn't fight monsters, but she could look after an injured friend.
When Hau started to run, she held his hand for a moment, then thought about picking him up.
"Please excuse me, but would you like to be carried?" She was very strong, and if that thing was going after him... it'd have to get through her first. It helped she had longer legs too.
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Post by Marshmallow on Oct 7, 2019 18:02:57 GMT -6
[Summary: Marche gets startled by disembodied screams, but since he has no clue how to find or help the screamer, he chooses to forge ahead. He grabs the silver chain, thinking it may be important since the chest opened all on its own for him, and continues through the door Straight Ahead, across from where he entered.]
As though expecting him, the final chest swung open of its own accord before the ifrit's claws could even scrape the lid. He withdrew his hand, half-expecting some trap mechanism to spring out and snatch at his wrist. Nothing seemed to occur though. It was just an open box. Puzzled and curious, Marchelute stared down at the thing, trying to comprehend it. With no answers forthcoming, he adjusted his gaze to the chest's contents. Folded clothes, and a coiled length of chain. He reached out-
A shrieking voice suddenly cut through the silence. Marchelute jerked upright with a curse, turning on the spot and reflexively reaching inward for his stifled flame. But... there was nothing there. The voice had sounded so close, just behind him even! And yet, the room remained empty. No screaming victim came tumbling through the door in a mad dash for safety. He almost wondered if he had imagined it; it wasn't a voice he recognized. But there had been others, he remembered, when he'd first arrived. Though he had focused solely on the boy and Ari, in his peripheral awareness he could recall that there had been others among their number. One of them must have run afoul of some danger.
Marchelute drew a breath to calm his racing heart, and released his magic before calling even a single spark. There was nothing here to fight. He had no idea where this 'Kira' was, nor why he could hear them with such clarity in that moment... Surely they needed help, but he had no direction to act on. And besides, he had family to find first.
He turned back to the door, to his intended path. Paused.
That chest had opened on its own, practically invited him in. Maybe it was only a coincidence, but maybe there was a reason. Maybe it would prove to have some use further along. It may be a poor choice, but he elected to take the gamble. He grabbed the silver chain.
Wasting no more time with the musty old chests, Marchelute shouldered open the door and continued in his search, voice once again ringing out into the darkness.
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Post by okami1reeka333 on Oct 7, 2019 19:40:26 GMT -6
Jedidiah:
[OOC: Leary, he looks for a flint and steel among the heaps and heaps of treasures as well as the most humble/cheap but durable looking stick/staff he could find. Writes out 'I'm Sorry' in coins.]
He quietly swallowed the lump in his throat, the fear that tried to bubble up seeing the unsettling figures in the cavernous space. . . Ok, he cant fight well with a sword or what not but he can at least use a staff to try and set off any traps before he lumbers onto them if he finds them. . . that and bat things away without hurting himself or someone else unless he was trying to wack em - But mostly the stick was to go set traps off without losing his own limbs. Hopefully. Though he didn't want to take a fancy looking one. . . nothing of gold or silver. . .maybe wood or iron? something that wasn't worth much - cheap but durable. . . he felt horrible about the idea of it. . . he also decided to go and look for some flint and steel since he did not want to use his own fire. his body retains heat too well and he did not want to burn the puppy when he finds the poor baby. Again, as he looked, he was careful in his movements - he doesn't want to accidentally break this person's things. . . . he should leave an I'm sorry note. . . and leave the items if they find a way out. . . if he can. . . he did not wanna keep them if he makes it out. . . . in fact. . .
He used some of the coins to write out 'I'm sorry' in coins.
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Post by Sharei on Oct 7, 2019 19:54:42 GMT -6
[OOC: Draggo changes into his Saljir and tries to fry the creature and the water in the room]
The dragon's roar of rage cut through the pain in his hand and arm, pushing it down beneath the abrupt hate that rose with surprising speed and clarity. Or perhaps it was not so surprising, considering the way the juvenile had always taken care of the little green keepsake. Azho's feather and Kanagi's rock were his most precious of treasures, and losing the only thing he had left of the Dreamer set something off.
He was changing to his Saljir before he was even aware of it, though the shift of skin to scale seemed sluggish and distinctly uncomfortable in the heavy air. The half-dragon's jaws parted, and lightning bounced between elongated canines. It crackled between clawed fingers and arched across wings. He discharged nearly all of the charge inside him into the room, aiming for the little rodent creature with its soft flesh and stealing mouth, and for the water it kept trying to get into.
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Post by jarahamee on Oct 7, 2019 20:10:27 GMT -6
[Cassius takes the silver chain, and moves on to the next chest. It's the last one that he will be looking at before moving onwards from the tomb. He then opens the last chest.]
Cassius paused, and then exhaled. He had to say, he was hardly deprived of his sense of anticipation with all of these chests. He reached into the chest and attempted to pick up the silver chain. He was not a plundering sort, but he had the sense it may come in handy sometime soon. He left the shirt alone. There was nothing else of note here for him.
He paused and looked about after the strange cry. It was like it was here in the room with him, but there was no one here. It was still and quiet, and nothing stirred. Nothing at all. Just the dust and the still mummies shared his new home.
These chests, this was enough to give the barest brushes of anxiety. He exhaled and shook his head once. What was all of this to him? He did not bother to close this chest, instead moving onwards to the last unopened chest and opening it before him. Perhaps this would lend him more answers.
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Post by MP on Oct 8, 2019 3:42:55 GMT -6
Ari and Sara: Ari's items: hunting horn, rusty knife x 2, maned pelt Sara's items: old spear A second shock of pain spikes through Ari's thoughts. Then a third, this one almost blinding in its agony. There can be no doubt that Marchelute is in dire trouble. He's close now - just beyond this passage. But it seems increasingly unlikely that he'll make it.
Ari may be fast enough to escape Sara's grip, but he isn't fast enough to reach the door. Before he so much as touch it, it begins to grind open. Through that momentary sliver, Ari and Sara glimpse a total darkness, seething and strangely alive, waiting just behind the threshold. Two figures stumble out from it - one tall and hairy, powerfully built, the other a blood-soaked figure with a shock of blue hair. The bond leads him straight to the latter. There is no ifrit. No further directions.
Meanwhile, when Sara draws aside the curtain, she finds herself face to face with a withered face. The curtain hides a long alcove roughly a third the height of the wall. It is lined end to end with the dead. The mummies have been packed into the space so tightly that their skin has folded around each other. Their arms and legs are curled in against their chests, their necks bent at impossible angles. Claw-like hands cover their faces. Their mouths are open as if to scream. The ones at the center of these alcoves seem to be clutching objects to their chests, but the limbs are folded so tightly in on themselves that it will take some work to disentangle the bodies.
Faolan: Items: unlit torch, flint necklace, (healing?) elixir The hallway ends just a few feet past the edge of the rubble, but the gloom makes it difficult to see. The door, when Faolan reaches it, looms before him so abruptly that it gives the uncomfortable impression of something eager. Rushing into place. Preparing for him.
The paranoia makes it difficult to breathe. The shadows play tricks on his eyes. Is it just Faolan's imagination, or is there something seeping from the seams of the door? Is the air just a little too thin? It's all in his head, surely.
Edge:: Items: simple knife Edge's knife sinks deep into the gathering mass, and he feels the oncoming presence waver. His guide is at his side, the sword coming around in a savage sweep. Edge can see the icy light off the weapon's inlay. He can see the sigh of smoke off the damaged residue. He can see the sickly flame as it abruptly pushes forward into his companion's face.
The man reels back, half his face and the better part of his shoulder already seared and blistering. But his sword has bit into the figure too, and it seems to have finally been enough. With a hissing puff of smoke, the vast presence disperses. The flame burns out. The developing figure is gone. They are alone with the mass of fresh growths, the pustules pulsing, but otherwise inert.
Edge's guide staggers. Shakes his head. Rights himself. He grins at Edge - a grim, unlovely expression through the burns. Then, fixedly, mechanically, he lifts the sword and begins stabbing through the remaining pustules.
Kira: As she launches herself into a glide, Kira feels the rake of hands along her back, her wings, her bloodied legs, bruising the flesh beneath her fur and leaving shallow furrows where they miss their hold. But she's free. She's free, and the fevered panting of the monster fades behind her as the burbat launches herself over the lake.
The creature hasn't followed. But its many arms have extended after her, and should the burbat glance back, she can see its face for the first time: a round, sucking mouth within a doughy, featureless face. The blank features are tracking her Its countless arms are extending out, extending down, its finger trailing into the water.
The burbat doesn't hear so much as feel the light. A sudden stink rises from the water as something crackles across it. Mold sizzles, tarry bubbles pop and smoke, and her fur stands on end. Her instincts scream of danger - death - beneath just her. But the stone is nearing, a refuge, and with no more than a numbing of toes, she reaches the rock. Rather, it reaches for her.
As Kira comes in to land, her trajectory is off. She is aimed for the featureless mouth of one of the many stone faces. The waiting hole. Her glide becomes something surreal, nightmarish. No matter how she tries to veer, she seems unable to angle away. The waters pull toward it. The hole - the mouth - yawns wider. Wider. The dark looms to meet her. Swallows her up. And for a long while, she is only aware of falling.
When Kira's eyes adjust, there is water up to her waist and a deep, oppressive darkness all around her. She can't see the walls. Can't see the ceiling. Humid air moans around her - far above her - suggesting a massive space. It feels suffocating. Feels hungry. There is another idol in front of her - a crude, rounded lump hunkered low in the water. Unlike the one that pulled her here, this one has only a single face, carved into the top of the stone. Hollow pits stare skyward. The mouth gapes up at the ceiling, a featureless hole, just large enough to reach a hand inside.
The place has a feeling of watchfulness. Of presence and waiting and need. Kira has the uncomfortable feeling that someone is standing behind her. And she could swear that there's an odd, dark patch off to her distant left.
Hau and Grace: Hau's items: human effigy Grace's items: unlit torch The light of the foxfire sears at the entity, and should they have the presence of mind through the fear and suffocation, Hau and Grace can see the darkness weakening. But the lone flame isn't enough. Hau feels a retaliatory fire as a dagger thrusts into his side, blunting off one of his ribs. The presence keeps coming. That other ancient something keeps coming. They close in on the foxfire, and the sword rises again.
Hau's spiteful impulse is all that saves him. As the fire is shoved into its formless face, the shadows writhe back. The sword, sweeping out to take the kitsune's head from his shoulders, flinches back with it. It takes Hau across the back as he runs, laying open flesh and muscle but leaving him with his life. With Grace's help, the kitsune is able to escape through the door just as it seems they might succumb to lack of oxygen. The moment they're over the threshold, their sight returns. Sweet air fills their lungs. The dark, though it curls against the closing door, remains within its room.
The two companions find themselves in a long hallway. The walls are pitted and scarred with the stumps of torch holders. Debris stings underfoot, splinters and crumpled metal. The walls on either side of them are parted into bands: stone above, stone below, a long strip of curtain in between that seems to stir with the slightest breath. Ahead, the passage branches into a four way intersection. It's already occupied.
There is a spotted man running toward them, cloaked around the waist with a large, bestial skin. Behind him, Hau and Grace can see a second figure, as well as the glint of its spear. Through the pain and dangerously rapid blood loss, Hau may sense something else: the tugging intuition granted by his figurine has eased, ending with the oncoming man.
Marchelute: Items: falconer's glove, silver chain The silver chain loops easily around Marchelute's wrist, fits neatly in his palm - however he chooses to transport it. Still, it seems to be nothing more than an ordinary ornament. Pretty, in a plain, tarnished way. But of no obvious use.
The next door opens just as easily as the last. But this room holds no chests, no sign of finery, not even torches on the walls. The floor is pitted with long, shallow holes that can only be graves. There are eight around the edges of the room, separated by catwalks of stone, and another four at the center. All are empty. More disturbingly, there is a faint residue dusting the floor, clinging to the walls, gray and faintly spongy underfoot.
There's only a fine layer of of the stuff, focused around grainy patches of crust, and the ifrit can easily avoid the residue and continue down the single other door in the righthand wall should he choose. But there are items in these patches: an old knife by the far wall and a scrap of paper in the far right corner. Both are graying and coated by the stuff. Perhaps it's only Marchelute's imagination, but the tiny grains of residue seem to pulse as he stares at them.
Jedidiah: Items: gray vial, scholar's note 4, unlit torch Finding a staff large enough to match the giant's size proves to be an impossible task. Finding a wooden relic that survived the ravages of time is already hard enough. He finds old scroll cases, ornate and clearly ceremonial weaponry, old and rotting furniture - but nothing like a staff. His efforts to find flint, at least, are more successful. After some rummaging, one of the many ivory boxes fall open to reveal an assortment of flint ornaments. As for steel, there are any number of metal trinkets, all in varying stages of rust.
Preoccupied as he is with his search, navigating shifting landslides whenever he digs through the piles, it may take Jedidiah a moment to register that the latest slide of coins sounds wrong. This hiss of sliding metal lingers. It sounds too even, too breathy to be coins.
Two long, glossy bodies slide out from the disturbed pile several yards from Jedidiah's feet. They're nearly three feet long, deep red scales ending in flattened heads. Dark eyes stare. Black tongues flicker from their mouths as the snakes coil in on themselves. Slowly, necks swaying, they rise up off their bellies, the flat heads turning to track him.
Draggo: The dragon's charge crackles across the tarry water, releasing a horrific stench. Mold splutters and pops in black spurts. Steam rises off the water in sheets. Through the light off the discharge, the dragon can make out large oblong shadows beneath the water, as well as other tiny shapes, just as pale and repulsive, scurrying over the walls and away from the discharge. But none of this helps him catch his target.
The pale creature skims over the water like a reptile, skipping, all but leaping over the water. It lunges for one of the gaping mouths of the sunken and many-faced idol, and the pallid body squirms and twists to pack itself inside. The mouth receives it. The dark swallows it up. And the creature is gone. The feather is gone. All that's left is the flooded room, rimmed by the narrow lip of stone and empty except for the half submerged idol, the opposing door, and the burbling, scattering shapes. Their whispery calls echo back at the dragon like laughter, but it's hard to make them out. The room is darker than before. It's strangely hard to breathe. And somewhere in the distance, behind him, all around, the dragon feels the cold weight of eyes.
Cassius: Items: unlit torch, sturdy rope The room, while gloomy, isn't so dark that Cassius could mistake his eyes. But when he reaches down to take the silver chain, he finds it gone. Not moved, not shifted among the tattered clothes. It simply isn't there. Perhaps it's for the best - after all, how much good could he possibly get from a plain silver chain?
When he turns around, the chest he means to check is standing open. There's no trace of tampering. No sight or sound of anyone nearby. But the contents are oddly placed, as if they've recently been rummaged through. They're also just as disappointing as the last chest. From where he stands, Cassius can see an assortment of leather gear - jesses, leashes, and several falcon hoods of varying size. While in surprisingly good condition considering the age of this place, none of it looks immediately useful.
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Post by okami1reeka333 on Oct 8, 2019 4:54:16 GMT -6
Jedidiah:
[OOC: unsettled by the breathy coins and the bodies sliding away from him, he grabs a steel trinket and flint and nopes out of the treasure room. attempts to force the doors close. ]
He nearly jumped when at the edge of his vision he saw movement that was not his own. . . ok, hes been in here for too long. . . He grabs a flint and a random steel trinket before quickly heading out of the treasure room. . and since the doors open inwards, he moved to force the doors shut. As ornate as the doors were, there were edges and what not he could grab. and as pliable as pure gold was, if any get caught it would actually act as a seal. . . . making it harder to open the doors again. . . there's a reason why the ancients were able to make gold foil so easily. Even children could flatten the metal out so easily. . .
The reason why modern golds are alloys. All the while he was panicking. . .sure, hes big, but that looked like snakes, alotta snakes, it might take more poison to kill him but he does not wanna deal with that right now. The amount of poison needed to off him might not differ from that of a normal sized human. . . so he tries his damnest to shut the doors. . . it cant get to the others. . . hes gotta find them and the puppy! hes gotta find a way out too.
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Post by kilnarak on Oct 8, 2019 5:24:09 GMT -6
[ Ari stops before he collides with Hau and Grace. After taking a moment to be confused and distressed, he tries to lead them back toward Sara and suggests they do something about Hau's wounds. Without the Pact pulling him onward, he will follow Sara for now. ]
The flashes of agony threatened to drop him again, but while he staggered at each sharp flare of pain, he kept running, kept moving toward the door at the end of the hall. Nothing leapt up in his wake to strike him down, no traps triggered, no hidden perils.
He was almost upon the door, he could feel Marchelute so close, just beyond the doorway, just in the next room... And then the door opened, stone grinding against stone. Ari's heart leapt in his throat, dreading the damage he would see upon his mate... But Marchelute was not there. Where he looked up, for a face, he found only roiling shadows. His gaze swept down to find a pair of strangers where Marchelute should have been.
Ari managed to bring himself to a stop before he collided with the two of them, his feet skidding in the debris and kicking up a small cloud of dust. The door closed behind them, but he no longer felt any pull into that room. He stared uncomprehending at the two of them for a long moment before the state of them - particularly the state of the blue-haired man - registered.
"C... Come away from-from there... It's... Where did... W-What happened?" He moved to help support Hau, turning somewhat numbly to lead him and Grace back toward Sara.
"S-Sara... They're hurt... I... I don't know where..." He cut himself off, drawing a sharp breath and holding it, blinking his eyes closed for a long moment. He felt like he might cry, frustration and panic welling up in his throat, but he knew that wouldn't help anything. He released his breath in a hiss past his teeth, opening his eyes again. "H-He's here but he's... not..."
"W-We should go... back or... or not this way. S-Something hurt them, back there... W-We need something for his wounds, he's bleeding a lot..."
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Post by tsukikoko on Oct 8, 2019 11:47:07 GMT -6
[OOC: Sara hurries over to the group and tends to Hau's wounds as best she can. Uses the spear head to cut through his clothing to use as improvised bandages to pack the wounds. States they should choose a way to go that gets them away from the darkness door as soon as possible.]
After an initial recoil at the mass of bodies behind the curtain, all the hairs on her arms standing on end, teeth bared in a rather inhuman display of unease, Sara was at least relieved to neither see nor hear anything harm Ari during his mad dash to the other end of the hallway. But as she made her way towards the spotted man, still treading more carefully, the door opened and she froze at the sight beyond.
Roiling, horrific blackness.
Her gaze fixed upon it, instincts screaming to get away from it, a shift threatening but never quite taking shape as she battled with the urge to somehow fight it, or flee. But not even that could hold her attention for long, because a vibrant, startling flash of red registered in her vision.
Someone was hurt. All Sara's thoughts of carefulness abruptly vanished as she realised one of the new figures was bleeding, badly. Soon she was running towards them, placing down the spear a few paces away so as to not seem as though she were about to attack them with it. Ari's words only cemented her fears, but when she arrived the shifter was all focus, all her thoughts on how to help the blue-haired man. First things first, to put some distance between themselves and whatever had been on the other side of that door. "Reet, come on, git 'im away from the door, like. Sit 'im down ah-" Gently, Sara lay a hand on the large, hair-covered humanoid. "-I'm sorry luv, I divvint know ya name, like, but sit 'im down, give us a look."
Sara gestured and aided the group a few paces away from the door and then, assuming was seated or she could at least get at him to look, she addressed him directly. "'Ello luv, me name's Sara, ya've been 'urt badly, but I'm gan 'elp ya, alreet?" For once, she wished she had clothes on. If nothing else, she could pack the wounds with the material, try to stem the bleeding. The curtains in the hallway were certainly no good, if they didn't fall apart on contact, they'd only be pushing god knew what filth into his wounds. While she searched desperately for a solution, the shifter was guiding Hau's own hands to the puncture wound in his chest, pressing his palms into it with no small amount of force. "Keep pressure on, alreet? I'll be reet with ya." She could use his own shirt. Sara didn't want to pull it up and over his head, but the spear head looked plenty sharp enough to tear through the material. So she rose and scampered the short distance to it, holding the weapon as close to the spear tip as she could without cutting herself. "I'm gan cut ya owt of ya shirt, alreet? Need tah use it tah pack ya wounds. Divvint move. Divvint panic, alreet? Ya doin' well." With that, she moved around to the man's back, thinking it would be easier to drag the spear head up through the clothing without worrying about his arms being in the way. She wished she had move time to explain, in case he did panic about her being so close with a sharp implement, but there really wasn't time. Now that she had been looking over him for a while, Sara could see the man's wounds were severe.
For a second or two, the shifter turned her gaze up to Ari and the tall one, stating quickly, "I divvint think we should stay 'ere like, who knows if that-" her head nodded in the direction of the door where the darkness had swirled, "-can git through the door. An' there's nowt tah pack 'is wounds with 'ere." That was all she said on the matter, diverting her attention back to the wounded man, pulling his shirt away from his skin and then dragging the spear head through the material while being very careful not to catch his skin.
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Post by qhostqrowls on Oct 8, 2019 14:24:11 GMT -6
[Faolan reluctantly opens the door, and will enter should there be nothing immediately murderous within it]
The door appeared abruptly out of the darkness, a looming, featurless slab of stone. Something about it was deeply unsettling. It felt ancient and evil, and Faolan felt a bone-deep, primal fear curl around him, as he stood and stared.
He really didn't want to open it, but it was not as if he had other options to choose from. It felt as if he'd been shepherd neatly into this situation. Like he was a sacrificial lamb walking straight into the lions den.
But he couldn't stand here forever. It already felt as if the air was thinning again, and he swore the shadows were growing darker. It was time to move on before he was forced to. Heart in his throat and pupils blown wide, he began to open the door, terrified something would leap out or drag him within.
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Post by Pearl Dragon on Oct 8, 2019 16:00:53 GMT -6
[Kira takes a moment to collect herself before moving to investigate the statue. She does take one attempted glance around the room, in case she might happen to see or notice anything else.]
With minimal options, Kira leapt from the ledge of the threshold out over the water the moment she was out of the creature's grasp. For a moment, she felt it reach for her, its hands raking long, bruising furrows into her back and nearly pushing her to the water, but then she was free of that as well. Hope flooded back to her in that moment as she soared away, her eyes locked onto the statue as she went. Danger still radiated around her, survival instincts still screaming that something else was wrong as her fur stood on end and a foul stench rose up from below, but she remained desperately focused.
Kira veered in an upward motion in an attempt to glide to the top of its head, but something didn't seem right. It's many mouthed faces loomed towards her, the one facing her seeming to pull her towards it suddenly even as she began to bank to the right and then the left. Kira felt fresh fear begin to build once more as her glide slowly became more of a dragging fall that swept her towards the open mouth as if it were a black hole. Darkness overtook her vision as she plummeted, and Kira tried to right herself as the falling sensation only grew.
After some time, she began to brace herself for the worse. There was no way she could fly forward, only drop down, and she began to try and parachute her wings out with feet splayed for impact. She had no idea how fast or far she was falling, but could only wait for either a landing.....or death.
At last, she felt the cold surface tension of water beneath her feet as she dropped waist-deep into a shallow pool. Her wings slapped down beside her and floundered for just a moment before she regained her balance, swaying in a drunken manner in the darkness. Everything was deathly still and quiet, a suffocating darkness that seemed to stretch well beyond her senses. Her eyes adjusted to the dull shimmer of the water and eventually settled on a lumpy shape in front of her. Another idol, but this one much smaller with only a single face that stared with an open mouth at the ceiling. Kira stood staring at the idol, her jaw a flaming throb of agony that blurred her vision and marred her focus. Now that she had a moment, Kira fought the adrenaline still rushing through her system and touched gingerly at her broken jaw only to pull her hand away almost instantly as a stab of pain pulsed through her head. Blood caked the entire left side of her face where her broken tooth continued to ooze blood, and she wondered if the pain would ever go away. Meanwhile, she became increasingly aware of the hungry darkness, a sense that something behind her or close by was watching her, and was that a dark mass to her left? She couldn't stay here, and the only thing she could do was emit a small, defeated whimper of pain as she once again struggled to decide what to do.
Hesitantly, and with great effort, Kira moved forward. The statue seemed the only thing there that might offer some kind of answer, and she only dared a single sweeping glance around the room to try and make sense of her surroundings.
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Post by NightshadeVII on Oct 8, 2019 16:18:18 GMT -6
[OOC: Edge takes a moment to gather himself and steady his breathing. Is pretty thrown off and worried that the presence might come back. When he eventually “calms down” enough, he too, stabs some pustules.]
When the fire finally disappeared, Edge’s knees sagged, gave in under him and he fell into a weird half-kneel. Everything hurt, and seared and throbbed rhythmically to the beat of his heart. Skin stretched painfully over blisters, yet strangely numb and sore at the same time, like blisters were. Everything was strangely warm, still burning, as if the flame hadn’t really left. Gingerly, he unwrapped his arm, flinching as the skin stuck to the cloth. Dryly he noted how he probably looked like a mess right now. Adrenaline was coursing through his veins, and a part of him expect that presence or that fire to come back at any moment. The Darai wasn’t sure if he was able to handle that. The stress of the situation that had just ended had taken a toll on him. Whatever it was, he hoped to get out soon, and he hoped that Faolan was okay. The smell of smoke is still present in the air, and now more than ever, Edge wished that it really wasn’t. It made it harder to breathe, made his airpipe feel tighter than before. For a moment, he felt nauseous, but managed to push the feeling down with some effort.
The Darai closed his eyes for a moment and focused on steadying his breath, thoughts were still racing, hands shaking, but slowly, his breath evened out, allowing him to draw more air into his lungs. This was crazy. One part of him was still in a state of utter disbelief. It all seemed so surreal, and yet the pain had been real enough.
When the Darai looked up again, his eyes fell on the scarred man. The other smiled at him. How could he smile now? What was there to smile about? For a little while, Edge just watched as the scarred man went back to work, stabbing pustules left and right. His guide really had no concept of rest. By Eda. The Darai knew that he probably had to get up too, he didn’t want to find out what happened if the scarred man became angry with him.
When he rose, legs shaking and uncertain for a moment, he looked at the room around them. These pustules. Would any of them suddenly ignite? Would they attract the presence again, if not dealt with? Normally the Darai wouldn’t be the type to do things like this, but he had a feeling that this place would show no mercy. Edge swallowed once, tasting smoke and sweat. Grimacing. Then he stepped over to a nearby cluster of pustules. He tried to stab them quickly and efficiently, hating the feeling of the knife sinking into the pulsing masses. It felt so wrong to do this, even if it seemed to be a matter of survival.
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Post by Vaitris on Oct 8, 2019 16:45:55 GMT -6
[OOC: Hau gets stabbed again. Then one more time for good measure. But he and Grace manage to escape into the adjoining hallway to join Ari and Sara. Hau tries to give the effigy to Ari, thinking they’re linked, then lets Sara take over.]
Hau might have heard the bigfoot's words but the meaning of them didn't register as the dagger hit home, plunging between his ribs and sending fire racing up and down his side. There was no way he would have been able to pinpoint the exact source of this new torture had the blade not caught bone on the way in. He only had a passing thought to spare for it, though, flight was his only function now. He was on autopilot, working only on pure animal instinct, pushing towards the door that suddenly seemed a million miles away.
Before he made it though, something else screamed across his back but Hau didn't have the breath to cry out. He threw himself against the stone door, wildly and wordlessly grateful to have the bigfoot's help in opening it once again, before spilling through and into the hallway. Air rushed at him and he gulped it down, every desperate heave of his chest lighting up new agony. His eyes watered and his legs shook.
His momentum dragged him a few more unsteady steps away from the door before he realized they weren't alone. There was a figure, another shadow, charging down the corridor right at them. Hau reeled back till he collided with the bigfoot, feeling cornered, feeling trapped. There was no way he was going back into that room, never again, not even to escape another danger. But he didn't know what to do with this new threat either and his thoughts twisted and writhed in confused fright. As the shadow neared it finally coalesced into another person, spotted and wrapped in furs. The sensation that had been sitting idly in the back of Hau's mind dissipated at his approach. So this was where the effigy had been leading.
Hau sagged with relief, would have lost his feet had there not been hands to help him. Though that help came with a double edge as wounds pulled, welling up with fresh agony. In an attempt to ease the pain he hunched over, his ponytail slipping over his shoulder, the end dark and matted with blood. His gaze caught and held on it. He'd never been hurt this badly before, not even that incident with the barbed wire when he was a child compared. So much of his own blood, and leaving him so quickly. The hallway canted awkwardly as dizziness took hold. Every exhale came out of him as a low whine.
"Stay 'way… from the door." He mumbled clumsily, as if that really needed to be said. It wasn't the door they needed to worry about, but what was behind it. His brain wasn't supplying the right words.
Belatedly, he realized they were already moving away from it. Good. The fur-clad man was speaking but the words were drifting past him, unrecognized. When a new voice chimed in, Hau tried to summon his focus back, picking the easiest words out of what he managed to understand. Down. Down sounded divine right now. At the first reasonably clean patch of floor he pulled himself free, gracelessly falling into a sit. "'Ello luv, me name's Sara, ya've been 'urt badly, but I'm gan 'elp ya, alreet?"
He nodded, sucked in a tremulous breath. She seemed nice. He was still convinced that the effigy was a force for good, and it had led him to her companion. Surely they could both be trusted? Or maybe he was just past caring at this point. “H-Hau.”
Then she pressed his palms against the wound in his shoulder, trying to staunch the flow of blood. Hau cried out, not prepared for the flash fire of pain that pinballed throughout his chest. Jaw clenched, feet scraping against floor as he writhed, he did his best to do what he had been told. In order to follow those orders, however, he had to drop the figurine he had been clutching compulsively and it clattered onto the floor, streaked with blood. Hau tried to catch the fur-clad man’s eye, glancing wearily between him and the effigy. "Think that migh’ be yours..." The words were slurred.
Then Sara was back, armed with a spear. Despite the explanation, he still felt his heart skip a beat at the sight of it. But he let her do as she thought best, too exhausted to resist, trembling all the while.
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