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Post by Vanitypirate on May 15, 2019 12:15:05 GMT -8
Ponytail set out, then, reminding himself that he had carried carcasses before. His father never helped him-- it wasn't their way. Instead, he was instructed to hunt only what he could carry home, to skin and butcher it himself so that he knew what it meant to be alive, how all animals and men were all the same on the inside.
But it occurred to him that this was a living, breathing woman, not some hunted game he was bringing home. Back home, time was a luxury he no longer had.
Hefting the girl to drape her over his shoulder, he set out with as reasonable of haste he could manage. He dared not to run, lest he drop the girl or stumble into something dangerous.
He was thankful she was not a muscly, heavy thing, but at the same time he would have much preferred her to remain as a cat for ease of transport.
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Post by rosallora on May 15, 2019 14:11:45 GMT -8
The walk through the caverns reveals the glowing lights have returned in absence of the torch. Moonlight streams in, little black ripples from the tide slowly eating up the middle of the walk as Ponytail makes his way out. And then he sees a clear sky, dotted with stars, mist thrown about him and waves gently crashing, and the world is not so cruel after all.
Or perhaps, it would be easier to think that, if he were not carrying a wounded compatriot.
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Post by EtherealNoire on May 15, 2019 15:55:35 GMT -8
Where Charis halted, Talea knelt, drawn to the secrets buried beneath ashen walls. Teaming with ocean essence, the cave had devoured all but the lock amidst its crust, yet her fingers traced its edge. Rimmed in coral and silver shell like suken ships crowned in jewels, its beauty had been forgotten by all those who passed but time.
She bowed before its hollow, seeking entrance with ivory keys, bones thin and sharp as needles whittled for her trade. Yea though it creaked and groaned, near stooping to her will, the will of the cove proved stronger, bones chiming as they clattered against stone.
Talea rose, deference granted whilst collecting what had been returned to her.
"Need thou not my aid, thus shall I journey forth to that which the seabeasts perished to defend."
She waited not for accord, drifting past into the looming cavern's bowels with naught but darkness as her cloak.
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Post by Vanitypirate on May 15, 2019 18:36:39 GMT -8
Ponytail's steps slowed and he stopped just outside the mouth of the cave. There was a brief moment of pause afforded to them, and he took the moment to set Missy down gently down in the sand. Hastily he stripped himself of his coat-- he would have less need of it than Missy. It was too cold out for a small girl to be without clothing.
He fit her arms through the coat, then buttoned it up tight to her collar. It was almost like a dress in this manner.
With a last glance to the shoreline, and a rough gauge of how much time his group had left, he picked Missy up in both arms and set about ascending the steps. Whether by luck or by newly-earned experience, it was much more graceful than his trip down the stairs.
Up the cliff, now, he just needed to trot on to the Hamlet... or whatever mildly-knowledgeable person he found first who could stitch the girl up.
Onwards he went.
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Post by twostepsback on May 15, 2019 19:18:37 GMT -8
Charis tried her luck at picking the lock as well, to no avail. "I guess we're key hunting." She mutters as she attaches Ponytail's pistol to her bandolier. Charis then moves to follow Talea only stopping to scavenge the fishmen's remains. The 100 gold coins go into Charis' coin pouch, the herb goes into her medical bag, while the necklace and oddly holed Shell Trumpet goes into the loot bag across her back. With the loot safely tucked away, Charis hustles to catch up to Talea.
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Post by MidnightRunner on May 16, 2019 4:40:22 GMT -8
The moment Velius had sighted Ponytail hastily carrying Missy was the moment Rellen knew something ill-fated had occurred from one of the various locations he'd been warned in his friend's letter. His faithful evening stroll under the moon was now shifted to a full on sprint as a bandaged arm stayed a bouncing pommel of a giggling sword at his side. His blue clothes flickered about the backdrop, his pace breaking a few times on uneven ground. "Brother!" He shouted under a strained breath, reaching them in the next moment. "Brother what's wrong?!" He was ready to help at a moment's notice, his face wrought with worry.
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Post by rosallora on May 16, 2019 6:49:02 GMT -8
Charis and Talea emerge into an open, gaping room. Large all along the perimeter, it gave off the feeling of a fishbowl, rimmed with water-smoothed stone and colorful sprouts of coral. The glow of the bioluminescent aglae, or moss, the blue sludge that cropped up here and there, was present. But with every step they brought the torch closer, it dimmed, chased off by artificial light.
The room had a large pool in the center, but instead of also glowing like the one in the room before, it was an abyss of black. There was a shallow rim around the edge, a shelf of perhaps a half meter, before it dropped off suddenly, giving way to that ink dark. The womens' footsteps echo as they walk, and the Siren's looping, rebounding song seems so possible here. The room was almost made to hold singing with the way it held and reflected sound. And branching from the glassy pool was a littler one, dotted with rocks, and a collection of shells. Most interestingly, there was a mirror present, the frame tarnished silver and nearly not worth repair on it's own. The glass inside was cracked in two places, making the cave reflect in triplicate in it. And upon the rocks that lines this smaller pool, there sat even more interesting objects.
Two boxes, a collection of glittering jewels, and a few chains of gold sat upon the crusted stones, ripe for the taking. A length of something
- a fabric, or a pelt - was cast out below the items to make a kind of soft shelf, sparing the fine items the roughness of stone. The glowing blue sludge all around gave the place a magical, otherworldly feeling, the grotto hidden from prying, human eyes. Until now.
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Post by EtherealNoire on May 16, 2019 13:40:05 GMT -8
The air thrummed with ancient chords, echos forgotten in the alien silence that Talea's own voice mirrored, beating in time with the tempo of their steps. It resonated serene in the thick sea air, beautiful yet profoundly tragic, and Talea drifted with her notes, eyes catching turquoise with every glance at the cave-life like a marine spirit resided within her. In the torch light, the mirror shone anew, beckoning her towards its shattered visage where her own gazed back. Pale and scarred as the moon's surface, the specter watched her. Ethereal she was. A spirit bathed in crimson and ringed with thorns.
She withdrew, mantled by the vision's lure, to settle amidst the pool still young and adorned by dreams. Her toes graced the depths though she lingered no further below its inky surface, embracing the chill, while her hands glided reverent above each hallowed treasure. Shells and stones brimmed with memories of other times. Dreams and thoughts pined within their cage of jewels and fabric spoke of tender cares gifted every treasure by the siren.
Talea echoed her affection, tainting none but the two boxes with her mortal hands. Gentle, she examined them in equal measure, yearning to know their secrets.
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Post by twostepsback on May 16, 2019 13:53:54 GMT -8
Charis was a little torn... The part of her wanted to make off with the Jewelry as well as the boxes, but if this really was what amounted to the Siren's bedroom... Well, it wouldn't be entirely wise to make the Siren mad by stealing her personal belongings... While Charis continued to wrestle with this question in her mind, she started picking up the various jewels and jewelry for closer inspection.
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Post by rosallora on May 16, 2019 17:02:57 GMT -8
The first box is of a heavier metal - perhaps silver, or pewter, or some form of iron. The rust, or tarnish, mars the front, but the seal in the middle of it is clear. The sign of the estate has been stamped into the top, and the lid itself does not budge. This is the object of their mission: it has been fully obtained, and whatever contents it hides inside are muffled. At a slight jostling, it becomes immediately apparent that the box is internally lined with something soft, whatever object within dully thudding about, its shape and dimensions a mystery.
The second box is different. It is waxed wood, simpler in its construction, and fastened tight with three latches easily undone with the flick of a curious finger. And when that act is done, two things are revealed, resting within the internally dry compartment.
The first is a letter, which smells slightly of fish and brine, but no more than the rest of the cavern. It reads as such:
Sir,
I would like to begin this letter with a gesture of thanks. The vivid descriptions of your last letter have enchanted and entertained all in the company, and the artifacts enclosed alongside it proved most useful. However, our historians have, at the moment, been unable to determine a definite source for the armor, and have recommended returning the coat. As a gesture of our goodwill, we have enclosed it and other disparate trinkets in the cog’s hold, alongside the negotiated cargo. Further installments will be delivered in monthly intervals. Should you have any questions on assembly, operation, or use, the captain will be honored to provide informed, discreet answers.
We wish you the best of luck in your future endeavors, and hope you will consider further relations.
At the bottom it is stamped with a wax seal that declares that the affair was conducted by "Eichen and West: Accessories for the modern Era"
The second item within the box is a strange bit of metal, slightly convex. It suggests the same curve as someone's breastplate, something carved or sliced away from the whole of the piece. Upon it is a seal, depicting a many tentacled beast. Just looking upon it gives a chill up the spine. It was something unknown or unfit to be known. Something that mortals should not meddle with. The other trinket mentioned was a small length of heavy rope, knotted into something impossibly made: just looking at it made one's head spin.
The jewels that Charis busies herself with are heavy and fine. A brooch that makes an emerald into the body of a beetle, a set of earrings heavy with sapphires, a necklace of gold links that boasts a ruby at its bottom, shaped like a teardrop. There's a smattering of loose jewels as well, most laboriously cut and polished, somehow kept in good condition despite seawater filling the cavern most of the time. They glimmer in the blue light above, throwing off their own little light-reflections into the cavern. The cloth they are upon is a soaked, wine-dark piece of velvet, which already has been eaten into by curious fish and growing patches of algae.
(letter provided by Orwelles, contents of the wooden box associated with and referring to his expedition, which is UP FOR GRABS)
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Post by Vanitypirate on May 16, 2019 19:46:36 GMT -8
The moment Velius had sighted Ponytail hastily carrying Missy was the moment Rellen knew something ill-fated had occurred from one of the various locations he'd been warned in his friend's letter. His faithful evening stroll under the moon was now shifted to a full on sprint as a bandaged arm stayed a bouncing pommel of a giggling sword at his side. His blue clothes flickered about the backdrop, his pace breaking a few times on uneven ground. "Brother!" He shouted under a strained breath, reaching them in the next moment. "Brother what's wrong?!" He was ready to help at a moment's notice, his face wrought with worry. --- In a stroke of luck someone appeared. Ponytail could only hope that this man was someone who could offer aid-- that this wasn't a waste of precious time and a delay from getting her true help. If he would make such a mistake, he hoped desperately it wouldn't prove fatal for Missy. "The girl-- she is hurt, bleeding." Explained the ginger-haired musketeer, cradling a pale, longcoat-clad girl in his arms. "Can you help? Do you know...-- do you know to heal?" |
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Post by EtherealNoire on May 17, 2019 9:10:07 GMT -8
Curiosity tied her hands, luring Talea to open the object so rightly sought. Yet it denied her entry, stained and tainted till naught could breach its innards save a master of the class. No such skill could find her there where the ocean lurked ever closer. Yet the other item opened willingly, spilling forth its vile secrets like a toxin eager to be downed. Laden by malaise, Talea bundled the treasure amidst her garments and passed the omen to the Light Worshiper nigh her side.
"Tis not of nature I pursue. Ill-fated and claimed by pecuniary riddles, if it calls thy interest, I shall not venture with thee."
Instead she alighted upon the shore, painting icy beads against rocks wherever her feet graced their coral-crusted surface. Still the glass called to her, begging one last glance within its shattered realm.
Talea lingered at the border, captured between its reverie and the tunnel beyond.
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Post by twostepsback on May 17, 2019 23:13:14 GMT -8
Adding the two largest loose gems to her coin pouch, Charis then moves to inspect the contents of the waxed wood box and read the letter, before closing the lid of the box, picking it up, and adding it to the bag on her back. "I don't like the contents of this box any more than you do, but someone is probably looking for it, based on the letter. That means there is probably a reward for recovery, and I am strapped for cash." Charis remarks with a slightly unnerved expression. "Moving on... I think you have the box we were sent to retrieve, so it is time to make a decision. Shall we end this expedition, continue looking for the key to that compartment, or us the shovel that we were provided with to force the compartment open?" She inquires.
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Post by MidnightRunner on May 18, 2019 5:07:10 GMT -8
"I'm no healer, but..." He trailed off, looking over the wound quickly. "I can search for someone who can." He finished hastily, waiting to see if the expeditionary would allow the exchange of the wounded.
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Post by rosallora on May 18, 2019 10:00:58 GMT -8
The reflection Talea saw was no enchanted thing. It promised nothing more than what she already was, but she was wispy, almost insubstantial, and strange, shown back to her in triplicate. The large ovular mirror, encrusted with a few shells and coral growths along with its sad tarnish, was an echo of what it once was, surely. Once upon a time, it was something much more. The items left on the velvet-covered stones are just that: items. They have no magical purpose, no strangeness nor enchantment. They are just things. All that was in the cavern was just that.
The water level was rising, slowly. Bit by bit, the cavern was being eaten up by the incoming tide. The smell of the sea was everywhere, as it was before, but the thrum of the waves sounds a bit closer, and a bit more insistent.
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