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Post by jarahamee on Sept 30, 2022 22:44:03 GMT -6
The offering has been accepted. The door slides open, and the darkness swallows you. There are no walls or ceiling that you can sense in your blindness. Your steps fall silently, meeting no give or resistance. You walk for what seems like an age, or a moment's doze. You awaken upon something cold and hard in a pitch black space. Upon inspection, you appear to be laying on a stone slab. There is an image inlaid in the slab in relief, difficult to discern in the darkness, and given your current prone position. The air within this space is stale, moist, cool and cave-like. The ceiling here is low, and appears to be made of stone, compressed dirt and intruding tree roots. This is something man-made being reclaimed by the wilderness. It is impossible to tell how old this structure is.
Brushing up against the walls or ceiling causes a hail of wet earth and small pieces of falling stone.You are dressed in the thin ritual shift you arrived in, carrying nothing else with you. Near your hand, laying upon the slab, is a candle and flint.
If you choose to explore this space, you seem to be within an underground chamber, shaped roughly like a dome, with the highest point in the center, and the lowest along the sides of the room. The slabs you woke on appear to be four raised sarcophagi (A,B,C,D), each with a space for a candle to be placed and single altar (E) in the center with indentations for candles. There is a heavy stone slab covering what seems to be the exit of this barrow(F). There are no footprints here, and it seems no one has been here for a long time. The door seems too heavy to move.
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Post by indeath on Oct 1, 2022 0:24:17 GMT -6
((OOC: August contemplates his predicament, lights his candle and looks around.))
It certainly felt like a elder vampire’s game. Being left in a tomb on some kind of sarcophagus. August wondered if he would wake up stuffed into a cupboard again, and this was all just an illusion. He ran a hand through his hair and squinted into the darkness, it was all fuzzy shapes and haze. He stood up, feeling slightly claustrophobic with the low ceiling.
“Hello? Ru?”
If it was their judgement he would be here too. He fumbled for the flint and candle that had been on his slab making an attempt to light it, the light reflecting in his vampiric eyes. He felt odd, his eyesight dimmed and he certainly felt much less vampirey than normal. How in heck was he going to get out of this.
“Lawdamimbo! This is a darn pickle…”
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Post by jarahamee on Oct 1, 2022 0:30:36 GMT -6
Upon lighting the candle using the flint, August can now see the sarcophagus below him is; (B) A marble relief portrays a large and powerful man wearing plate armor. His blunt face is carefully etched in peaceful repose. Both hands rest on his sword. An inscription identifies him as Saint Bartholomew the Gentle. There is a place where a prayer candle can be lit before their grave.
The other sarcophagi appear to have similar reliefs upon them, but they cannot be viewed from his current position. The altar(E) also appears to have writing and a place for a candle to be lit upon it, but it is not visible from where he is standing.
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Post by indeath on Oct 1, 2022 0:39:26 GMT -6
((August puts his candle in the indentation for Sir Bartholomew.))
August placed his candle in the indentation for Sir Bartholomew, he seemed like a good bloke. It seemed like the right thing to do.
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Post by hadopelagic on Oct 1, 2022 0:49:43 GMT -6
(OOC: Una notices August and imitates his fire-starter technique. She also asks him, "Where are we?" because of course.)
The last thing Una remembered (before the darkness and the door) was the movie she'd been watching, a surreal arthouse comedy about sharks in a tornado. Una must have fallen asleep mid-film because she couldn't recall whether the blonde heroine had survived.
She'd fallen asleep in her house and awoken in an enigma.
It was dark, so Una went very still, listening, smelling, and feeling. There was a candle by her hand. A couple small rocks, too. Somebody must have put them there; candles didn't spontaneously appear. After grabbing the items, she sat up. There were sounds nearby, a voice and stone clicking against stone. Sparks led to fire, which illuminated a friendly-looking face. Not what Una had expected.
He'd called for Ru? That name was very familiar to her ...
"Pickle?" Una asked the young man. "Where is this place?" Perhaps they were in prison. The man could be one of her cellmates. But she hadn't committed any crime! "I ... I shouldn't be here. I'm just an average woman. There must be a mistake."
As she spoke, Una imitated the young man's flint technique, trying to light her candle. When it finally worked, the flame was strange and beautiful, like an anglerfish's lure. She still hadn't gotten used to the marvel of fire. Una held her finger over the flame until it hurt; with an exhale, she pulled her hand away and waited for answers.
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Post by indeath on Oct 1, 2022 1:03:31 GMT -6
((August replies to Una))
”Ermmm honestly I ain’t got the foggiest… I’m August. I think ya gotta put the candle in the little groove there. I’m sure ya a lot more than average.”
August smiled at the odd woman.
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Post by hadopelagic on Oct 1, 2022 1:24:12 GMT -6
((Una replies to August))
Gently, Una lowered the candle in the groove, where it fit securely.
"That's a fine name," she said. "Of all the months, August is my favorite." That was a white lie; most of the time, Una couldn't tell one month from the other. However, she did like the way it sounded.
"My new friend August," she hummed softly, struggling to think of a rhyme. "Let's escape. We must."
Something was wrong; her voice didn't carry any power. It had been stripped of its magic?
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Post by kilnarak on Oct 1, 2022 1:53:38 GMT -6
[ Ash lights his candle and examines the slab he woke atop. ]
Ash walked into the darkness beyond the door, his claws no longer clicking against the floor as the floor vanishes; walking on air, or so it felt. And then abruptly his eyes opened, his claws twitching and scratching against the stone beneath him. He wasn't walking, he was laying on a stone tablet, his tail dangling off the edge. Cold, earth-scented air around him, no wind. Dark and damp, a cave? He pushed himself up and his hand found the soft threadbare cloth of the shift, his claws catching in the fabric. Finding it gave him pause and he felt his neck, searching for the thin golden necklaces. He couldn't make out the color of his hands in the darkness - his night-vision was better than that of a human but not by much, certainly not enough to make out colors in near darkness.
There were voices in the dark, then a spark of light that made him flinch. He shielded his eyes with one scaled arm, waiting for his pupils to adjust to the sudden light, and pushed himself up off of the platform. Something clattered to the floor behind him as he got up, his wing knocking something down. He blinked at it, then stooped down to pick up the fallen flint and candle before straightening as much as the space allowed him.
"Hello?" His voice was soft but deep in this form. He took a step toward the man with the light, then twitched, his scales lifting, as he caught movement to his right. Movement and another voice, a woman's; she had been laying upon another platform in the middle of the room. And there were two others still, forming a '+' pattern in the small room. "I do not know where this is either."
The woman lit her candle as well and, after a moment, Ash followed their examples, lighting his own and using the light to examine the slab he had lain upon. It reminded him a little of the Eyrie, at least in that it was a space hewn out of earth and stone. It was too cold, though, not a place to be lived in. Was it a tomb? He wasn't sure what to make of the carvings - they weren't the sort Sival made. Perhaps the same sort of magic that had transported him to Wathais had brought him here? And these strangers as well?
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Post by tsukikoko on Oct 1, 2022 2:36:58 GMT -6
[John has a moment, or possibly a few, then gets himself together enough to light a candle and inspect the alter (E) writing.]
John's first expression, upon waking, was a sharp grimace at the lack of plush bedding beneath his body. Why would he be laying upon something so uncomfortable? Surely he wouldn't have allowed himself to fall asleep upon his desk where someone could happen upon him, that would be most unbec-
When the Kumiho opened his eyes and realised his location was dark, damp and most certainly not anywhere familiar, he scrabbled upright. An action which brought with it another series of horrifying revelations; he was in his fox shape and couldn't get out of it, he had been dressed in some kind of awful, unfashionable rag and other people were here, they would see him without his full accompaniment of nine ta-
His tail swished. His one, lone tail.
The sound that tore out of John's throat was a vulpine wail and highly distressed, encompassing all of his terror, anguish and horrified fury. They were gone! His hard earned tails were gone! How could this have happened? They were going to see, whoever was in here was going to see his shame, his weakness! They couldn't be allowed to live. Not after this. Why were they even here? Had they taken them? But oh! His tails, his tails, how could the Universe be so cruel as to take them again?
With a short snarl, the fox turned his anger on the closest thing in reach - the sorry excuse for clothing hanging off his quadrupedal frame. It shredded beneath his claws, freeing him and expelling at least a measure of the Kumiho's emotional turmoil. Enough that he took a moment to reassess.
He was free to move and not dead, so whomever was in here with him likely weren't the ones responsible for stripping his tails. They may have all been thrown in... whatever this was, together. They wouldn't necessarily know who he was, what he was; he could play the animal incapable of human speech, twist this to his advantage somehow.
But first, information.
John picked himself up from the tatters of cloth around him, shuddering slightly at the knowledge such terrible clothing had been touching his beautiful fur. It was frustrating that he couldn't see more clearly. The dark had never been a problem for him before and yet here... Whatever was dulling even his most basic of abilities made the Kumiho's lip curl. He didn't like being so... solid, either, so tangible.
So vulnerable.
His tail brushed against something in the gloom, a couple of somethings. Once he figured out they were a candle and flint, someone else had already lit their own lights. Well, at least it gave him a better idea of what he was working with. There was an alter, or so it seemed to be, nearby, which drew his attention more than the slab he'd been laid upon.
So, by carefully holding the candle with one paw and striking the flint down against the slab with another, John managed to light his own candle. He held it aloft with his jaws, frustrated at how little he could morph or twist his body. He could float, at least, but couldn't fly or phase through objects, which made him highly uncomfortable.
Drifting across to the alter, John holds his candle near the writing, trying to make it out.
No doubt his unwelcome companions would question the noise he'd made before long, try to figure him out or talk to him. But hopefully he could find something out for himself, first.
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Post by beastly on Oct 1, 2022 4:27:37 GMT -6
((Vincent is unhappy to wake up and see August, but is held back from violence or running by the presence of other people. He lights his candle and looks at the slab under him.
Items: candle, flint))
Vincent squinted in the darkness he walked into, putting a hand out to touch a wall that wasn't there. Fear blossomed freshly, and a quiet voice in the back of his head reminded him of another very dark night. He pushed ahead, walking until... he stopped.
The scruffy man woke up with a jolt, still in blackness, but there was something stone and cool under him. He groped around, feeling the lines under him and finding the candle and flint. He held them, and was about to light his, when a light source appeared independent of him.
His eyes flicked over, and he was able to make out a curly headed man. He squinted in the darkness and swallowed a noise of surprise and fear as the man spoke, and he recognized it.
He had nothing but the flint and candle, if the monster chose to attack he would have nothing but that to try and fight it off. His heart beat faster, and just as he was about to try and decide if he was going to lunge, a woman's voice was heard, and another candle was lit. And then another voice. And another candle. And another... held by a fox.
The vampire did not attack them. These people didn't... look human... but it wasn't attacking them. He recalled the creature's infuriating 'mercy' he'd experienced before, and it made something in his brain twitch. He shuddered, and with unsteady hands lit his own candle.
Slowly, one eye on the vampire, he looked over the thing under him, running a hand over the stone.
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Post by jarahamee on Oct 1, 2022 10:03:56 GMT -6
Ash examines his sarcophagus and sees (A) a marble relief portrays a serious-looking robed man, carrying a staff that radiates light. This sarcophagus is etched in a strange language, which identifies the person within as Saint Leopold The Wise. There is an impression in front of the sarcophagus where a prayer candle can be lit.
When John lights his candle, he finds that he had awoken upon a sarcophagus inlaid with (D) A trim person of indeterminable gender with long, flowing hair has been carefully etched into the lid of this marble sarcophagus. The person portrayed strangles a wolf-like creature under their left arm, and holds a flaming heart with their right. The inscription identifies them as Saint Peregrine Laziosi the Great. There is a space to place the candle in front of their sarcophagus.
The inscription on the altar reads: Place a candle here to pray.
On the sarcophagus beneath him, Vincent feels (C)A marble relief portrays a small but imperious woman with short cropped hair who seems to be dressed in lordly clothes. In her right hand is clutched a spear. On her left she holds a short sword. An inscription identifies her as Saint Jane De Chantal the Defender. There is a space to place a candle in front of her grave.
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Post by kilnarak on Oct 1, 2022 15:55:43 GMT -6
[ Ash greets the others and makes some small talk, then places his candle in the indentation on the sarcophagus. ]
Ash spends a moment examining the sarcophagus, curious. The sound of others getting up distracts him however and he glances away from it, noting that the man across from him and the... dog? - it probably wasn't a dog, it was probably a person, but that's what Jedi would have called it - had awoken and lit their candles as well.
"Ah. I should introduce... I-I'm Ash, child of- I mean I'm Ash. It's nice to meet you all?" His scales ruffled awkwardly - he supposed he didn't need to introduce his lineage, it wouldn't mean anything to the people here, but he was still used to doing it. After a moment he tried to brush off his awkwardness, turning his head back toward the sarcophagus and gesturing to it. "Do these carvings tell a story? You said... I place the candle here, yes?" He glanced toward August, waiting for affirmation before placing his candle down.
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Post by indeath on Oct 1, 2022 16:13:26 GMT -6
((August is impressed by Ash, tells him to put the candle in the indentation. Doesn’t recognize the Hunter yet.))
August grinned at Una. “Ya sweeter than a summer peach!”
August jaw dropped a little when he saw the dragon guy, that was so cool. He even had a tail. The fox creature reminded him of Hau. It’s fur looked so darn soft but he was pretty sure it was rude to pat it without permission. The desire was yet strong.
“Ash! What a bombaroo name. Ain’t ya just the coolest thing… dragon guy. Yeah I reckon ya should put it in. Can’t hurt right?”
He smiled widely showing a little more fang than he would like.
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Post by beastly on Oct 1, 2022 17:56:32 GMT -6
((Vince sets the candle in the spot on the sarcophagus. He goes south and looks over the exit.
Items: Flint ))
The hunter listened to the scaled one, Ash, introduce himself with a scowl. The consensus seemed to be that the candles needed to go in the indentation in the sarcophaguses. Why? Were they completing a ritual that would seal their own doom? They were all dressed the same way, woke up in the same positions, something was wrong and bad. They were in some kind of tomb. They could be locked there forever. With the Vampire-
Vincent carefully got off of the saint's resting place, taking another glance at the woman on it, allowing himself to stop looking over his shoulder at the vampire just long enough to appreciate what he was looking at and absorb the information. He needed to breathe. After a moment, he set the candle in it's spot, mimicking what the others had done.
He looked up once the candle was set in place, again keeping a watchful eye on the vampire. It was being 'friendly' right now. He could see the glinting fangs as it smiled. That disturbed him worse than if it had been snarling, but the rational part of his mind told him to count his blessings.
So, he stood quietly, looking behind him at the large stone slab that seemed to be the exit. Best as he could tell. He backed over slowly, and put a hand on it, seeing if there was any indication of how to open it.
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Post by hadopelagic on Oct 1, 2022 21:06:01 GMT -6
((Ooc: Una asks Ash a question and invents parents))
Una stared at the scaled man with undisguised interest. She’d never seen anyone like him before. “What are you, Ash?” she asked; then, to be polite, she offered up her own information. “My name is Una Brontë, and I am a human woman from the city of Wathais. Child of … Myrtle and Eddie Brontë.” Dang, now she’d have to remember her fake parent’s names. Myrtle. Eddie. Myrtle. Eddie. There, memorized! “I hope they aren’t worried about me.”
Aside from August and Ash, there was a large canid in the cavern, and a quiet man. She eyed both with wary curiosity.
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