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 Posted: Wed Jun 09, 2010 2:41 pm
Tony, glad that their torches were at least giving them light enough to see, followed the path until they entered the new chamber. He wasn't too happy to find that they were stuck here, with no apparent way out, however. He looked around, drawn to the reliefs.
Running his hand over them, he found his panic at the idea of being trapped, his natural reaction to not wanting to be stuck in any place, faded as he forced himself to focus on this. He recognized one of the women from the images back in the hall, though he had only glanced at them and felt them under his fingers. A queen, perhaps?
He searched his brain. In Malory's tale, his favorite and the one he had been sticking to for most of his 'information' on Arthur and Camelot, King Arthur had three siblings, though not all by Uther Pendragon. Igraine, his mother, had been queen to another man before Uther took her. Were these women, then, his family? But the story of the knight on the wall couldn't be Arthur's, could it? It ended in death. He knew there were other tales with three women, but those two were near the end of Arthur's life.
Tony frowned. He should have been taking more notes when he read. How was he supposed to know that he would be here, in Camelot?
Wanting to examine the reliefs further, but lacking the ability to do so while holding the large helmet under his arm, shifting it back and forth, he opted to do the only logical thing: put the helmet on his head. He probably could have put it down on the floor, but he didn't want to lose track of it. That done, he used his other hand to help him investigate, until his fingers fell over the bloody handprint. Contemplatively, he put his hand over the finger prints, as if to test the fit, not worried about blood at this point since he was rather coated with it already.
"This woman, here," he said, indicating with his other hand, "could well be the Lady of the Lake." Of course, her history was even more complicated than Arthur's, as she was written differently by the various authors who added to the tales. She was said to have given Excalibur to Arthur in one story, or in another she had dealings with Merlin, the sorcerer who helped Uther get his throne, and who helped Arthur through his destiny. Sometimes she was the epitome of good, other times she was full of tricks and peril.
He sighed. Then he noticed his hand was resting on the picture of the naked woman, and he pulled it away like he was touching a real naked woman. Turning red, he very nearly apologized.
At this point he turned and spotted Nemesis reaching for what appeared to be Dude's pants. What was going on here?! This place was wearing on his nerves, it seemed, because his first instinct was to tell Nemesis that now was certainly not the time to act on her crush for the older man. Instead, she was getting a book from his belt, and Tony sighed in relief.
Shaking his head, he looked back at the images, kneeling so he could examine the lowest one, of the three women.
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Posted: Wed Jun 09, 2010 4:43 pm
The thought of possibly asphixiating was not one that Saiph liked. Clutching a firepoker, she strode to the wall and stood beside Mr. Darrow, studying it. She didn't understand or really care about the reliefs. The handprint was what drew her attention.
"No footprints, so whoever it was had to have found a way past the wall," she chunnered to herself. "Can you try pushing on the wall where the handprint is sir?"
Somehow it felt as if this place had gone from Indiana Jones to goddamned Scooby Doo. And while Mr. Darrow was busy studying, she turned the blunt end of her weapon on the wall, tapping and listening, hoping that this wall would prove the same as the dungeon floor and have a hollow they could escape through.
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Posted: Wed Jun 09, 2010 5:32 pm
Zanazziite's face lit up when the oil turned out to be useful. Her day was brightened, it didn't even matter that they were stuck god knows where. By the time they had re-lit the torches half the oil was gone. Thinking they might need it later she put the flask back in the front of her dress for safe keeping.
When they stepped into the dead end room Zan's heart fell. How were they going to get out now? Her eyes looked over the reliefs, but she didn't know a thing about Arthurian legend and all she saw were a bunch of pretty ladies, one who was naked. That fact made her blush and she turned to examine the rest of the room. Not that there was much to examine.
Her mind raced. The footprints stopped here so there had to be a way out. Whoever the footprints belonged to didn't just disappear into thin air. Maybe there was some sort of crack by a trap door or something. A squeak on her shoulder drew her attention to Rufus and she picked him up holding him at eye level. This was a crazy idea, but there was a small chance it would work. And a small chance was better than no chance. She began to talk to the rat quietly, she didn't think he'd understand but she needed to hear the sound of her own voice.
"Alright, Rufus. We need to find a way out, a hole, a crack, anything really. Maybe you can find something? Rats are smart, and good at finding places to hide." She had had an idea while she was talking, if he did find a way out how would they follow him? It took a minute of thought but Zan came up with something. Setting Rufus back on her shoulder she first pulled the bow out of her hair, looping it around her wrist. Next she took off her glasses, the world going blurry as she removed the long chain that usually kept them around her neck. She held that in her fist and put on her glasses, the world sharpening into focus dramatically.
Taking her hair bow she worked at it until she had the bow undone leaving her with one length of ribbon. She twisted one end to make a kind of rope and then tied the ribbon and the silver chain together as best she could. When she was satisfied it was tight she held the ribbon end in her mouth, picked up Rufus, and tied the end of the silver chain securely around his midsection. She double checked to make it wasn't squeezing too tight and then set him on the ground keeping the end of the ribbon held tightly in her hand. Luckily Zan was short and the makeshift leash was just long enough to reach from Rufus to her hand without her having to stoop over. She watched the rat, hoping he'd lead her somewhere, anywhere.
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Posted: Wed Jun 09, 2010 5:42 pm
Once his torch was re-lit, Ian moved around the toom where they now found themselves, studying the carvings. His eyes trailed upwards to the long-haired woman at the top, and then the boy blushed faintly as he realized abruptly that she was naked. "Lady of the Lake?" he murmured softly, remembering that name, at least, and nodded as the librarian seemed to agree.
The lack of doorways in here was rather distracting to the red-haired boy, too, but he did his best to try to focus on the carvings on the walls. He stood close beside Mister Darrow, holding the torch, but made no move to touch the hand print. Instead, he looked it over for a moment, though his eyes strayed to the sides of the chamber. Towards the lack of doors. Ian chewed his lower lip and switched the torch to his other hand, turning away from the wall to keep the light steady for Mister Darrow while he rubbed sweat from his palm on the thigh of his pants.
There had to be some way out, and the wall with the carvings looked like the most obvious.
He envisioned some sort of secret door, some sort of moving part that would allow them to leave the same way the person tracking the blood across the floor had. ... Had the person who had preceded them known the way out? Ian focused on the footprints, in particular where they came closest to the wall where they disappeared. They had looked like they were running in the hallway - did the stride still look like a running one here? Did it look like the walker had slowed down or stopped before this theoretical hidden door, or did the steps appear unbroken?
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Posted: Wed Jun 09, 2010 6:50 pm
(Alcyone was asked for permission!)
Charonite had apparently the same idea as Saiph: he'd passed Nemesis the torch so that she had better light to see the journal by, and his face had been like the poker's as she'd rummaged around at his belt to get the book. That finished, he stood by Alcyone watching as Saiph hit the wall with her iron rod, and he held out his hand for hers.
"Please," he said, actually cordially. "Just for a moment."
He had listened to the sound that Saiph's firepoker had made against the wall, and now he was approaching another as Alcyone put hers in his hand. A blank wall. He gripped its heft somewhere in the middle and -- with the sharpest edge -- scratched it against the bare white rock to see how soft it was.
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Posted: Wed Jun 09, 2010 7:13 pm
Just like that, the path they had been walking down led to a dead end; providing reliefs, and a limited supply of air. This was not the best scenario Sirona could have asked for.
It wasn't however, the worst case. Zanazziite had saved them from suffering finding a way out-- in complete darkness, and already, they were all getting to work. Sirona listened intently as Tony described the reliefs. Lady of the Lake? It sounded familiar, but literature in general was a weak point of hers.
She observed as their weapons went to work, Saiph was tapping; just like they had in the torture chamber. The action Dude took oddly reminded her of Earth Science, whether it was testing the mineral's streak or hardness. Regardless, this was not the time to be nostalgic.
Sirona nodded in approval at the rat. They were smart, whether it was avoiding traps or finding miniature havens-- ones no human being could. If there was a hole, any opening, it would mean a chance for ventilation, and with the tools provided with a combination of force, they'd eventually find their way out. Clutching her branding rod tightly in her hand, Sirona began to follow Rufus on her knees.
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Posted: Wed Jun 09, 2010 8:59 pm
It seemed that nobody wanted to be caught without an idea at a dead end, and it's easy to understand why. While their fire lights flickered brighter than ever thanks to their renewed source of energy, the air that clung to the close to the ivory walls was thin and being used at a rapid pace. It wasn't enough to really wind anybody just yet, but that strain was there, looming at the back of everyone's mind: if they didn't leave soon, they'd all die.
Observing the reliefs didn't help Alcyone much. While she appreciated the craftsmanship that required to make such beautiful carvings on the walls, it didn't shed any light or information that could better explain where they were and what they were doing. She quirked her head towards Tony when he mentioned the Lady of the Lake; the title sounded familiar, though she only knew it in passing as an old opera her mother enjoyed.
The massive hand of Dude had startled her. For somebody who had been increasingly non-responsive to Nemesis' need for politeness, he was certainly being courteous to her. She was hesitant to lend him her poker, though realized that he'd probably be able to find a hollowed spot better than her, if for at least the added height. She lent him the poker, along with a few words before letting her security go: "Just be sure to give it back when you're done, please."
She didn't want to be caught without a weapon should they confront anything dangerous.
With only a torch in her possession, she decided the next best thing she could do to help was apply pressure to certain parts of the relief, particularly where the bloody prints stood nearby. Alcyone felt no embarrassment as she appeared to fondle the carved naked women and the walls around them. She figured, if there was any kind of switch to open up an entry way, it'd be somewhere where a person wouldn't feel comfortable touching about.
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Posted: Thu Jun 10, 2010 12:36 pm
The rat scurried free with an uncertain look at Zanaziiite and a few scratches at his new leash. He acclimated to it fast enough, though, and was soon enough scurrying around the chamber, occasionally crossing through the footprints and leaving little rat-sized red footprints of his own.
Eventually he stopped in front of the marble directly below the handprint, put his forelegs against it and twitched his tail frantically.
The wall did not sound hollow, which made Rufus's behavior odd, to be certain -- it sounded like solid marble.
The helmet settled firmly onto Tony's head: almost a little uncannily so, as if it had been made for him, or shaped itself to fit him once he wore it. It had no effect on the chamber, the marble or the engravings, but a cool breath of wind blew across the back of his neck and something... changed. It was hard to define, even harder to describe, but he felt a sense of tranquility and even -- command?
The reliefs depicting the three women at the bottom had been shaded with lines to denote some degree of coloration: thus, they pictured one dark-haired woman with her hands raised to a moon overhead, another dark-haired woman riding a horse, and a pale-haired woman in a tower room weaving a tapestry in front of a mirror. They all looked distinctly related to the woman above them, and younger.
The footprints looked as though they had come to a walking stop, halted in front of the marble and then utterly disappeared.
The journal of Warin Cartwright was as before, but now as Nemesis flipped through a few things caught her interest: mentions of a tomb of Uther Pendragon deep below the city of Camelot, rumors that the old man would never have stayed asleep for long, mentions that the king had been a harsh master and a harsher judge of valor and honor. And: I am afraid that Arthur's hospitality has run me out. It appears I must rely on Uther's.
The wall was cool to Alcyone's touch, but then, when she lay her hand flat on it --
[Please roll a die between 1 and 10 in your next post. From 1-2, an unknown effect will occur -- please wait for a GM post before writing this out. From 3-10, Alcyone will feel an unnatural chill and shiver go through her body and pull her hand away.]
When Charonite scratched the marble it was relatively soft, for marble -- but when the long scratch appeared it did something familiar to only Charonite and Nemesis: broke itself into pieces and rearranged itself into tidy, small, familiar handwriting.
You are in my father's tomb and your time is short. Do not touch the wall with your naked hand.
[Your inventory remains the same, as does your range of options.]
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Krysin rolled 1 10-sided dice:
4
Total: 4 (1-10)
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Posted: Thu Jun 10, 2010 1:58 pm
The names were becoming familiar to her, her lips pulling down into a hard, thin line as she flipped through the pages of the journal. Words began to stand out to her, and uncertainly she took stock of their surroundings, graze dropping back to the pages. They were definitely far underground now, and really, evidence did point to the fact that they were in someone's grand and elaborate tomb, and now were stuck there. "******** cryptic," she muttered to herself. When she was done reading she flipped the journal shut and walked over to join most of the team where the bloody footprints had ended.
"Journal says that we're probably in Uther Pendragon's tomb, and that he was not very nice and s**t. Judged valor and honor - looks like he wouldn't like you very much, Dude," she was saying as she approached them. Nemesis couldn't help but take the little dig at Dude, it seemed as if it was her duty to be mean to him. Perhaps it was Dude's destiny to be unable to escape from annoying teenagers.
She arched a brow at Tony and the helmet that was newly fitted upon his head. Her expression then turned disapproving, thinking that it was a little disrespectful to the dead guy Tony had taken the helmet from. Sure, he was dead, but Nemesis knew from experience that the dead here liked to linger. "Do you really have to wear it?" Nemesis didn't sound quite as snarky as she usually did, which might be attributed to the simple fact that she just didn't want to see Tony wearing the dead man's helmet.
Peering around Dude, she saw what his scratch had earned in reward. The handwriting struck her as being familiar, but she was far more worried over what the wall was telling them. "Hurry, ask how to get out," she urged Dude to write on the wall again, as if it was normal to be chatting with a wall. Right now, it was fairly normal. "Ask who they are, too. Eh, actually, might just be better to focus on how to get out." Dude had talked with inanimate objects before, so she seemed to allow the task to fall to him. Really, she had forgotten completely about giving the man space, hovering annoyingly close so she would be able to see what was going on, and further 'advise' Dude. "And, guys, it is probably a good idea to trust the wall and not touch it."
(( I dice roll because I wanted to. ):< ))
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Marsh the Sex Panda rolled 1 10-sided dice:
9
Total: 9 (1-10)
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Posted: Thu Jun 10, 2010 2:57 pm
Zan's eyes widened as Rufus took off. It was working! "Oh you're such a good rat!" She hurried after him, walking through the bloody foot prints without a second though, her size 7 heel prints obscuring the little rat prints. She stayed close to him, wanting to give the leash enough slack to let him run ahead.
When they reached the wall and Rufus stopped Zan kicked the wall, it didn't sound hollow so why did he stop? Examining the walls he noticed they were right in front of the hand print. Lifting her hand she was just about to push against the print when Nemesis's voice stopped her. Not touch it? But she needed to examine it. Chewing her lower lip she thought a moment before an idea came to her. "I can't believe I'm doing this." She talked mostly to herself as she picked Rufus up and set him on her shoulder, leaving his leash on. She then tied the ribbon end around her wrist so she wouldn't have to hold it. When that was done she bent over, feeling Rufus climb up onto her head to stay seated. Reaching under her skirt she fidgeted, shifting her petticoats until they slid down to her ankles. Her dress went flat, no longer having that nice bell shape, and she stepped out of the coats.
She picked up the petticoats as she straightened up, and wrapped them around her right hand, letting the extra hang down. She wasn't really touching the wall if her hand was covered right? Picking up the leftover petticoat in her left hand she began to push against the wall through the petticoat, starting with as high as she could reach and ending where the wall met the ground.
(( I'm jumping on Krysin's cool train 'cause rolling is sexy and Krys touches my ooolala and makes it tralala <3))
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surreality rolled 1 10-sided dice:
3
Total: 3 (1-10)
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Posted: Thu Jun 10, 2010 3:22 pm
[rollin' rollin' rollin']
-edit-
It was an unfortunate circumstance that Alcyone didn't wait a few more moments before placing her gloved hand against the wall. If she had, she would have seen the words compile on their own before the dreaded man in white and read a fair warning, if a bit surreal in how the warning itself came about. As her palm flattened against the curve of the stone woman's silhouette and pushed, her eyes widened in alarm.
Her hand immediately broke away and her feet took several steps backwards, as though the wall itself had burst into flames. A quick glance at her hand proved otherwise, however, and she hovered close to her torch for warmth and stayed her distance. Alcyone would not be touching the wall again, and she didn't need Nemesis' suggestion to coax her.
"I'll say." she started, though not to any specific person. "That wall is cold. Colder than ice, even. It felt like the current of air from the previous room pooled and concentrated itself all over that wall. It doesn't make sense."
Well, neither did the writing that appeared on the surface, either. "Wait, no, no!"
She wasn't fast enough to tell either Abigail or Saiph that her gloves weren't enough to prevent her chill, and she watched in fear as both of their hands touched where her fingers scraped only minutes before. "...I agree with Nemesis, Dude. Please ask your supernatural acquaintance if there's a safe way out." Alcyone could hardly believe what she was requesting herself; a ghost writing through a wall aiding their escape? It sounded like something out of a horror sci-fi flick, or a particularly bad nightmare.
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Posted: Thu Jun 10, 2010 4:03 pm
Saiph paused in mid tap as she heard Nemesis' advice. Glancing up and turning to look at the other senshi, she was scowling.
"What the hell are you talking about? How're we supposed to trust a wall...?"
All irritation fled the green haired senshi's voice as her eyes fell on the not-so-blank wall. It was bad enough that mysterious writing was showing up on a wall where there had been nothing. And it was bad enough that they were using up their oxygen trying to solve puzzles. But the wall telling them to be careful and not touch was too much. Choking back a tiny sound of mingled anger and fear, she rested the poker against her shoulder and closed her eyes.
"Okay, I'm sorry I asked. Does it count gloves as naked hands?" she asked, holding up her own begloved hand. Then, with a wince, she placed her own hand over the bloody handprint and pushed.
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Lithiasaur rolled 1 10-sided dice:
6
Total: 6 (1-10)
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Posted: Thu Jun 10, 2010 6:33 pm
Tony took a deep breath as the helmet seemed to settle on his head like it was at first created for just such a fit. He closed his eyes, bowing his head a bit, feeling something move through him. Something he couldn't quite understand, let alone try to explain to anyone else. At first he thought it was a trick of his mind, but there had been breezes before, without source or reason. In any case, something moved down his neck, and he shuddered.
Finding that he had closed his eyes to feel it, he opened them slowly, feeling... oddly calm. Controlled. He hadn't been panicking before, but he certainly hadn't felt quite this peaceful. There was that sense of danger, that fear of suffocating in this room, but now it seemed more manageable. What was that saying? Cooler heads prevailed? Maybe that was something that had finally clicked in the back of his mind.
Tony shook his head and looked at the reliefs again, as he had intended. He was certain he knew them, but his attention was drawn when Nemesis spoke. She seemed to be reading from a journal, and Tony couldn't remember if they had mentioned who it belonged to. They had mentioned speaking to Elaine...
In Malory's tale, Arthur Pendragon had a sister name Elaine. Elaine of Garlot, not the one he had thought they mentioned from before, the one that had fallen in love with Lancelot and, in the tales, died unrequited.
It made sense, then, if Nemesis and her... magic?... journal were to be believed. This was Uther Pendragon's tomb, and this woman the wife he had taken from King Gorlois by magic cast by Merlin, Igraine. The three that looked so much like her could, then, be her daughters. Two by Gorlois, half sisters to Arthur Pendragon, Elaine and Morgan. Anna, or Morgawse, had a complicated story. She was either the full sister of Arthur, Anna, or the half sister he then accidentally has a child with that then grows up to kill him. Of course, this mother of Mordred was also written to be Morgan.
Oh, tragic heroes.
Either way, the three could easily be related to the lady in the image above them, and that would make sense if it was Igraine. This tomb belonged to Uther Pendragon... Tony heard Nemesis order Dude to ask someone how to get out, and he looked at them in wonder. Rising slowly, he moved near them so he could read some strange writing that had appeared on the wall. Reading the words slowly, for the moment not trying to figure out just how they had gotten there, he blinked in surprise.
"Alcyone, Abigail," he yelped, seeing both reaching for the wall. He had touched it, as well, but it had only felt cold. At least Abigail had her hand wrapped up, and Alcyone pulled her hand back without incident. Saiph was putting her gloved hand where Tony had before, over the bloody print, and he watched anxiously. "Perhaps we should stop and think about things for a moment... but I think you, uh, Mister Dude, should keep trying to communicate with this... spirit of yours? As Nemesis said."
He sighed, like he was about to give a speech he hadn't prepared for.
"Okay, I read quite a lot of Arthurian legend, and I know a few things... and others I can guess at. I know this woman in the top relief," he wandered back to them, "is the lady of the lake, and if this is Uther's tomb then this woman here, in the middle, should be Uther Pendragon's wife, Queen Igraine. The three ladies are her daughters. King Arthur's family. You said you spoke to an Elaine, yes? That is the name of one of Arthur's sisters, though she was not related to Uther by blood... ah, at least not as far as my knowledge goes... but things can get... complicated... with all the different writings on the legend."
He looked a bit frazzled.
He pulled the map and the letter from his pocket, not sure either would help, but it wouldn't hurt to glance at them once more. If Nemesis had found something in her journal, perhaps he might have similar luck. He first looked over the map, to see if Uther's tomb was actually on it and he had missed it before, and then looked at the letter Benedictus had written, for no reason more than needing something to do, to focus on, before his head exploded.
Not that the rather perfectly fitted helmet would allow for anything to happen to his head.
"If this is King Uther's tomb, we should be careful. A King's tomb is revered, and protected. Uther Pendragon, though considered a tyrant, did a lot for the establishment of Camelot, and the knights as we know them in Arthur's rule. Without his father, Arthur would not have been as successful a King, though the lessons were hard learned. Errrr... I'm uh... babbling. Anyway, we should be careful."
He blushed a bit, glad for the darkness of the room.
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Posted: Fri Jun 11, 2010 1:41 am
"At least we have one goddamned scholar here," said Charonite.
It had nearly sounded like a compliment. It was a compliment. Dude was surprising them all with his hidden layers; he was like a Sara Lee cake, only burlier and with more dreadlocks. For all that he was terse and curt and short with his words, he wasn't cruel or even nasty with them, which was irony only to Nemesis -- perhaps Ian just thought he was an impatient man, and to Alcyone and Saiph a worrisomely familiar one. But his compliment was a distracted one, because at the first sign of Elaine of Astolat's careful hand he had started scratching back with a staunch desperation and no skin of his skin near the wall --
Elaine. How do we leave
The doorfriend was obviously also a wallfriend.
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Posted: Fri Jun 11, 2010 10:25 am
So the person had stopped in front of the doorway. That, along with his companions' touching it and finding solid stone, ruled out the wall just being an illusion... but that seemed too easy anyway. They likely would have been able to feel a breeze from somewhere if there were any openings to the outside already open in here, and he was not sure he had seen the torch flames flickering in any particular direction, either.
... Which reminded him, they were using up air even quicker with all the fires going.
The room seemed to be fairly small - there was no cavern to explore. So the red-haired boy decided that maybe they did not need all of their flames going. Miss Nemesis had her light out for Dude, which seemed to be the place in most need of light for the moment. So, in spite of really wanting to see right away what the supposed ghost was writing on the wall (and not particularly craving conversation with the man with purple dreadlocks), edged over to Dude.
"May I please have your cloak, sir? I'm going to put out my torch." he asked hesitantly. "When you have a minute-" The boy stopped abruptly and shut his mouth at the other man's curt reply, but then murmured a timid thank you when he handed over the garment.
Then Ian moved away from the others and set his torch on the ground, but glanced back over his shoulder a few times, hoping to hear more about whatever was being written on the wall by the ... spirits. But, as long as the extra torch was burning, it was eating up more of the air. Wadding up the cloak, the red-haired boy tossed it down onto the torch to smother the flame. If they needed more light in the future, like once they got whatever secret door open, he could always relight it.
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