Catacomb Delve
Tenebrae - Monday, November 14, 2016, 9:18 AM
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=<* A15: Alexandrian Catacombs *>=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
Three somber halls for a somber deity. Each entrance is guarded by silent Chord in pale gray robes and hoods, each of whom bear the symbolic khopesh at their belts. The first of the halls, with its great ironbound doors, is the hall of the Harpist, Her sad and sorrowful face looking down upon all entrants, arms open wide as a mother who greets a grieving child. There the beloved dead reside.
The second hall is overseen by the judge in all Her stern glory. Neither fierce nor gentle, she holds a scale in one hand and a ledger in the other, so that she might judge those whose names are unknown, the faithless, and the repentant. Here the uncertain dead reside.
The last aspect, the warrior, wields a khopesh in each of Her hands, eyes ablaze with fury as one hand rises as if to strike down a foe. It is there that the criminals, the vile, the evil, are interred. The door to this hall is bound in adamant and heavily locked with all manner of prayer, sigil, and invocation engraved in its scrollwork. Lancers guard its entrance, with Absolutions beside.
The antechamber leading to each hall is, itself, little more than a cave gilded with gold statuary of Vardama and carvings, telling of Vardama's kindness, wisdom, and fury all. Braziers at every corner provide light and fill the air with a heavy somber incense. From somewhere unseen, an unending funeral dirge is "piped in," accompanied by hooded Chords (monks) who constantly polish and clean whilst chanting their dutiful hymns to Vardama and Her tender mercies. The center of the room is dominated by a statue of Basalt with Vardama in each of Her three aspects back to back to back gazing over the room.
The Morduzumite Inquisition. The latest among many ad hoc organizations that have sprung up in Alexandria over the years to deal with crises both big and small. Not that most people know that, or have even heard its full name. No, while it's increasingly becoming an open secret among the Artificer's Guild and a select few other groups, it's still unknown to the Alexandrian layperson that a passageway to the long forgotten underground kingdom of Morduzum was discovered beneath the Artificer's Hall. To most, the mix of Reosians, artificers, Iron Book protectors, and other assorted members of the Inquisition are just investigating the recent disturbances beneath the guild hall.
Even if they seem to be investigating that in strange places and in strange ways.
Aria is here in the catacombs, and today, the usual security is conspicuously absent. And more than that, one of the many doors which shouldn't be opened in this city now stands ajar: the third gate in the catacombs, leading to the crypts of Alexandria's criminal elements and other ne'er-do-wells. Someone much more powerful than her probably pulled some strings with the temples of Serriel and Vardama to make this happen, and probably with good cause to get them to agree. She's only a dozen paces past the entrance, holding a bulky copper clockwork contraption in both hands. It's elaborate, painfully complicated, and probably overbuilt, though that's hardly new for artifice. From a bulky dish-like emitter, a blue lights is shined against the wall, the stone turning momentarily translucent as it does. That's one way to look for secret passages.
And you? You probably have your own reasons for being here. Or maybe you don't. Sometimes you end up in strange places when you get to wandering.
"... bone place? better bones at Ox place. von Ironbrew's. Why want dusty bone?" This is Rhar's conundrum, asked of Gurr as he pads them both down the stairs. Gurr could explain in more detail, but he is a wise old wolf; he knows she would not easily understand his own introspection concerning mortality and eternal life, nor would he want to upset her with it. Fortunately, he is also a large old wise wolf, so even if Rhar wanted him to turn around, it's not so easy to make him.
'Twas not a shadowy cabal nor a hunt man's notice what drew the world's smallest giant; No, 'twas simply the oppressive sun beyond the doors! Bitr the Mighty, halfling hailing from the daggered peaks of Khalid, is surprisingly somber as she wanders into the hallway atop her faithful canine companion. Dog the dog, a walking pile of matted white fur who could easily be mistaken for a stack of carpets save for the flash of pink tongue where one may hope the front is. Bitr is laid across Dog's back, still a bit woozy from the day's drink, letting her chin rest upon Dog's hard head.
Although even she can catch the somber mood; She's ignorant, not stupid. Mostly. Drawing herself up, bare thighs squeezing on either side of Dog, a frown crosses her features, brows narrowing over a many crooked nose that's been broken more times than she has digits. Oh look! Somber mood ruin, there's something sparkly! AND A GIANT WOLF.
"Ha!" She calls, speaking. "Thy hast wandered far from thy cubs, Missy Sharptooth!" She states, to Gurr. Her common ancient and archaic, as befitting someone raised mostly on the stories of flatland madness. And then blink - someone else! "What manner of sparklies be that, Missy Fingerwaggler?" She asks of Aria's globe. And finally, for Rhar. ".. Hail, tiny foot! Worry not thine head, mine steps are carefully placed. Thy form will not be crushed beneath mine mighty foot fall!" A chuckle. Even though she's smaller than Rhar. But a girl can dream, right?
"Wot's all da racket 'bout?" Selia inquires with a yawn, wandering from a darken alcove. The little lutch is rumpled and may have just risen from her bed... or she may have taken a lot of effort to get that look, fashion is funny that way some times.
Aria is a professional, clearly. She has done this before, clearly. So being given a one-use key to temporarily unseal a door covered with more warding than the Alexandrian treasury? And being sent down into the pitch black darkness? Amidst the worst of Alexandria's dead, no less, a place that has seen more than one outbreak of powerful undead? Not terrifying. No, not terrifying at all.
So to her credit, when she spins about, surprised by the sudden arrival of not one but three lucht, she doesn't shriek. Not much anyway; just a tiny bit, stifled quickly, like a professional. She does jump, nearly out of her skin. And that's really hard for her to do, considering her skin is copper plating bonded to her superstructure.
"Ceinara preserve me!" Her speech is a little more fluid than most golems. "You nearly gave me a heart attack." Also hard, since she has no heart. "Wait, what are you three doing here?" Three luchts. Does she even need to ask? Her eyes narrow a bit there, the faint blue glow focusing slightly, sharp golem eyes focusing on Rhar. "Wait. Rhar? Gurr? It has been quite some time, hasn't it? Thank God for a friendly face. Are these your friends?" It has been nearly a year since she last met those two, but she seems to remember them nonetheless.
Rhar perks suddenly from her wondering about bones. People! Her attention span expires and renews. Even better, wolfling! And wolf. This gets Gurr notice, too and he lopes towards. Paws are waved (Rhar's, not Gurr's). "Hi! Look for bones, too?" Gurr leads with nose, for sniffing greetings. So does Rhar.
Until they're called by name and both look over to the glowy-eyed one. "Hi!" More paws are waved. Still not Gurr's, since he's using them.
"Bones? Aye, honored bones of ancestors long gone."
Sagenods Bitr, sliding from the back of Dog the dog and landing with a faint 'thump' of hard feet on hard stone. The giant shaggy canine, meanwhile, moving up to sniff Gurr's rear; The equivalent of doggy hello. Dropping tail shuffing from side to side. It's not sentient, just lovably stupid and loyal, as any good riding dog should be. Bitr stretching, before putting dimunitive fists upon hips and spreading small legs wide. Making herself look as big as should could - which isn't saying much.
"Ho, but these bones are far too small! Mine ancestors would shake the very earth at their steps, and so do mine!" And, finally, that gaze turns to Selia and Aria. A flash of a toothy grin. "Ah! Fear not. Though thy steps tread the same path as Bitr the Mighty, I am wary of stepping on thy smaller frames. Now, what sortee is this that drags thyselves so far from the light?" A squint, and a sniff.
Selia blinks, peering around, mostly at the canines... she's not too comfortable with anthing that has sharp and pointy teeth. "Was takin me nap. Quiet like down 'ere, usually anyways." Her accent is thick, a heavy layer of Low Charn and Undercommon, with more than a dash of Chant, and a bit of something else entirely. Thin hands and quick fingers tends to gesture with words, just shy of proper Handspeech. The little lutch stops suddenly, and turns very slowly. "...why the feck is -that- door open?" This is the Not Happy Voice.
Gurr sniffs. Then Rhar sniffs. Both Dog and the Mighty Bitr. Because that's what wolves do. Ears then perk at the not happy: all four of them. Heads swivel to look at The Door of Openness. Rhar studies it carefully before answering. "Someone go inside? Or go out?" Keen powers of deduction.
"Wellllll," Aria begins, her quiet voice carrying easily amidst the much quieter denizens here. So far so good. "I /do/ have the consent of the temples of Serriel and Verdama, and they gave me a one-use key to bypass the warding. As for why they granted such a request, that is /quite a tale/." Wait . . . "About that! It's just a routine inspection of the tombs. You know," she says, nervously waving about the very clearly not-routine artifice device held in both of her hands, blue light washing this way and that, "just . . . making sure the remains of the dead haven't up and wandered off somewhere . . . It happens sometimes! One must be careful about that." She's actually a really terrible liar, it turns out! Maybe she wasn't the ideal pick for an organization tasked with keeping secrets.
"So, Rhar!" she says, trying desperately to change the subject. "You're a bone enthusiast then?" Is that even a thing?
"Oh? Wandering dead?"
Begins Bitr, the fog of drink quickly lifted as a fire lights somewhere in her belly. A metaphorical fire, because a literal fire would mean a lot more screaming. Working a crick out of her neck, the bare foot wildling walks up to Aria, flashing toothy smile once more.
"Thy fortune is great, tiny fingerwaggler; Bitr is about and searches for glory. Mine feet will search yon darkness with thy own, and give the dead their peace once more." A pause. "By breaking every bone thy restless carrion have." A sagenod. Dog the dog naturally incline to flop into a big pile -outside- the door of evil, thank-you-very-much.
And then she's looking to the other two halflings. "And what of thyself, small-feet? Does they gut turn thyself aside?"
Selia is not so believing. "Aye, dey DO wander. Why da door stays SHUT. And LOCKED. And WARDED. And GUARDED." Selia takes a breath, and considers a moment, before inquireing a a 'I'm trying not to be mad' sort of way. "-WHY- did ya open da door?"
Aria doesn't sigh in defeat, since she doesn't breathe. But the resignation in her voice sounds like she would have done that, if she could have. "I suppose that story was hardly believable. If you must know, I am on a mission to investigate a potential source of danger within the catacombs. It's most likely a false alarm, but the potential danger is great, so the situation must be confirmed one way or the other. The temples agreed, for this reason, to allow me passage."
Her voice perks up just a tiny bit. "If you all wish to accompany me, to ensure that my motives are true, I would have no objection." Not because she's not eager to do this alone. Not at all.
"Pfah. What worry in thy skull for why glory comes? Glory comes, whether thyself be prepared or not. The door be open! Gird, missy worrynose! Gird!"
States Bitr to Selia with a barked guffaw, reaching aside to pat Aria firmly on the thigh. There there. A flashing tooth, hips on fist once more. Looking up at the golem, before she points a finger - into the darkness. "Thyself has the light and Bitr the Mighty. Ho, what more could thy ask for?"
"Squad o' BrightBlades, well armed." Selia answers flatly. "Went inta dat place jus once. Day were plenty. Met a squad o' ghosts. Were nay a plesant experience." She eyes Aria a long moment, and sighs. "Wot 'xactly ya lookin fer? Reckon need ta know it iffen we see it."
"I was told the Lancers did a sweep earlier today, to clear the path for me. So we're /most likely/ safe." Aria points her device at the wall once more. "And we're looking for a passageway, actually." We? "This device should be able to find it without requiring a physical search that might disturb the dead. Speaking of which, I should probably get started. This does have a limited power supply, and if I tarry, it might run dry before I complete my investigation."
She does add, almost in a whisper, "Though that squad of Bright Blades does sound quite nice." Turning to Bitr, she resumes her normal volume as she addresses her. "Are you sure you're fine with accompanying me? It may be dangerous. I can't guarantee your safety."
Bitr chuckles long and slow at Selia's words, before remembering to guffaw. A proper giantborn does not 'chuckle'. Just like they do not 'drink', they quaff! It involves a lot more 'uff' sounds. And then she turns her head back up to Aria, blinking a moment before barking that laughter again.
"Oh, aye, and tomorrow mine head be bashed upon the rocks. Pfah! Fate was written long ago, aye? So why worry thyself into a hole and live not one heartbeat more. Forward!"
Selia nods, and moves through the door, pausing a moment next to the wall. "I's Selia. Dis is Issa." The lutch nods to her shadow upon the wall, which turns and waves cheerfully, independant of the body casting it. "Ya may na see us, but we'll be close."
Aria points at the wall briefly, as if to ask a question that starts with, "What the . . . " She doesn't actually say anything, though. Instead, she looks around for someone else to mirror her concern, and seeing nobody, simply gives up and starts moving.
She heads through the massive, formerly sealed door, pointing the clockwork device at the walls adjacent to her as she moves, the stone shimmering and becoming momentarily translucent as she does. "So," she awkwardly asks the increasingly out-of-sight lucht accompanying her. "Have you heard any good songs lately?" Not at all nervous.
Gurr finds Dog's logic infallible. Namely the flopping to nap OUTSIDE the Door That Should Not Be Open. He lowers himself to the ground adjacent with just that in mind.
Of course, there's still Rhar. She and logic really don't get along well.
"Rhar protect! Protect wolflings. Protect metal people. Protect pack!"
Because that's what she does!
With a heavy, resigned snort, Gurr slowly rises back to his feet.
The OTHER wild lucht, Bitr, points with a finger at Selia's shadow. Blinking slowly - and then barking with laughter. "HA! What foolery is thy shade, Missy Worrynose? Mine thoughts turn towards the trick! Soon, thy will reveal it to mine eyes!" She grins, obviously delighted by shades that move on their own. And then she turns back towards Rhar, curling a hard arm over the other lucht's shoulders. "There be heart! HA! Come to glory through tooth and claw." And then the goat smelling tiny barbie moves out after Aria, leaving her oversized sword sheathed on her back. For now.
"Oh, aye. There be one I heard not afar a pissing hole. It be about some man from Can-Yuckett?"
Selia ehs absently, keeping to the deeper parts of the shadows, more a presence than truely seen. Obviously, the darkness bothers her not in the slightest. "Nay recently. Been Away fer a while, only came back bit ago."
Bitr twists left and right as she walks beside Aria, keeping her ears and eyes open as she goes. Although perhaps she's just trying to catch a sight of Selia, because she's speaking to the ShadowDancer now.
"And what manner of fingerwagglerly lets thy shade move aside from thee?"
Selia consdiers a few moments, and shrugs, thankfully in one of the moments she happens to be in the light. "I ain't no wizard, iffen days wot yer askin. Nay sorcerer neither, or nay da regular sort I don't reckon. Ya 'eard o' Shadows, da regular monstery sort, I'll wager. Nasty blokes, most ya'll find. But dey's people, same as you or me. Well, nay da same, but still people. Most da one ya meet 'round dis plane be da nasty sort. Assassins, killers, mean and Evil wit a capital E. But in da ShadowLands, most aint like dat. Just regular blokes, tryin ta git by. Some is Good, priests, druids, wizards, all dat stuff. But da Dark Bitch Taara took over long 'go. Rules da place wit an iron fist. Evil sorts end up in charge. Git a pass ta dis plane o' existace, cause trouble and be general evil sorts. ain't all der fault, thigns is different fer dem too. Dey ain't got no proper food over here, not da way dey see it anyways. Dey git hungry, gotta eat off a person. Drain life away. Or starve. Nasty busniess. But dem fe w dat ain't bad, nay all wanna live under Da Bitch. So dey's trying ta fight back. I'ma tryin ta 'elp 'em. Was over there, fightin. Didn't go well. 'ad ta come back, stop some bad bad bloke. Heth."
The dimunitive barbie considers Selia's words carefully, her face screwed up with the effort of thought. At last, with some great hesitation, she asks the most important question of all:
".. T'were it a great and glorious battle?"
Then moves right past all of that to another all consumning question. "So thy shade be not of thyself, but of another being? Ha! Makes for easy times to find a drinking companion, then." A bark of laughter, sharp and clear in the creeping darkness. "'Tis a great adventure waiting for naught but a woman who can twist yon bitter tyrant to pretzels."
"Nay. T'wern't glorious 'tall. Brutish, nasty, an' short. Ya do na fight a Godess an' win. Nay fightin straight, anyways. Near died. Maybe did, a little. Bitch don't fight straight on, twists ya 'round, rips 'way wot it means ta be You. Took lotta smart priests put all da bits back tagether, still rough edges. When go back, bring sum BrightBlades with. Magus too. Blokes wot know the Planes, 'ow ta use 'em ta fight dirty. Anyways, ya, me an Issa used ta be two. Now we... well, ain't two, but nay one neither. Like close sisters. She don't starve, I don't die."
A bark of laughter. "Aye, but brutish, nasty and short be the best kind of battle! One thy teeth can get stuck in." States the tiny barbarian, chest heaving with her mighty guffaws. It was hard to remember not to giggle, sometimes; Giantborns don't giggle. Her -father- certainly never giggled! Guffaw was the way to go.
And then a flash of teeth once again. "Well. Be what may, Missy Witchery, they claimant on she and hers on thee seem true enough. To have a shadery of mine own I must cross the veil, aye? Pfah. Who has time. There be shifty beasts to learn from as well!"
Selia nods, and falls quiet, focus shifting to the surroundings. Not exactly the best place for idle chatter.
GAME: Selia rolls stealth: (10)+29: 39
Bitr has disconnected.
Rhar has disconnected.