IC Date: 07/02/2025

The supplies Tempesti had packed tested her rucksack’s seams, ropes of unwieldy plastic camping lanterns clattering along its face. As helpful as her phone’s meager flashlight had been, it had done little to relieve the darkness of the Harpies’ Crypt. While she didn’t expect the palace to have a depth of shadow comparable to the vault below the Tower, she could do worse than having a bit of extra protection against nightfall. Though the holes in the walls and roof would probably allowed for the entrance of more natural light than the builders ever intended. During daylight hours, anyway. Stepping carefully across intricate mosaics, Tempesti made her way to the center of the room. If she had any memories of this place locked away, they weren’t in any hurry to make themselves known, apparently preferring to allow her to relearn the layout from scratch.

Lanterns clattered with the indignant sound of plastic beating against plastic as she hefted from her shoulders and onto a conveniently placed slab of rubble as she took in the entrance hall. Sturdy but delicately carved columns soared upward into vaulted ceilings lacily rendered in pale stone. At the back of the chamber stood monumental doors in cracked stained glass, a pair of ancient staircases ascending in graceful arcs on either side despite the degraded state of their steps and banisters. Tall candelabra set into the floor lined the walkway many leaning at haphazard angles, their metal tarnished. A series of massive chandeliers in the shape of windflowers hung overhead. While most were simply empty metal frames, a few petals still bore pale purple glass in their petals, the crystals that no doubt once cast light across the Tempestine masses sat lifeless, caked in the grime of ages. If the enormous stained glass windows occupying most of the walls were an indicator, any purpose this place might have had as a fortress had been long since abandoned by the time its empire fell. Tempesti imagined the sun at its peak through the panes of sparkling color, the light and motion that must have overwhelmed every visitor to these halls. Even in their fractured, age-streaked state they demanded her gaze. Fragments of faces, scattered leaves and petals, feathers stretched and broken across empty panels.

When she bought the camping lanterns and pop-up lanterns she had been well aware that she wouldn’t be able to afford or carry enough to light a significant amount of the palace, but they wouldn’t even cover this entry hall. She sighed and unstrung the larger lanterns, placing two in the small alcove she’d chosen for her makeshift bedroom before unpacking the rest of her supplies. Thousands of feet of colorful nylon rope on black plastic reels and several boxes of glow in the dark chalk would, hopefully, be of help navigating this place until she made some decent maps. Still. Even the amount she’d brought didn’t look like it would cover half of this complex. Wasting daylight would do nothing to change that fact, she reminded herself as she rose to her feet. Taking a few minutes, she set out several more at strategic points throughout the room, hanging one on an ancient candelabrum for the twitch of a smile it drew from her. They wouldn’t illuminate as much space as she would have liked, but at least they’d work as markers if she needed to shuffle around in the dark.