(I/C)
In the silence that followed the crazed amount of activity that had been going on, the party whispered some plans to one another and then split off. “I go to Ape,”Abraxas offered, drawing his sword and opening the door back to the cabinet room carefully. Dead stirges, dumped over cabinet, and a sleeping Ape just outside the door. Lyra tapped the fighter on the shoulder and whispered, “I’m coming with you.”
“Gracias, Madre.”
While they crept to the sleeping primate, Lannis made his way to the pool and crouched down to give it a once over while Wyn replaced the bath oil on the shelf and shook his head. “Not today,” he mumbled. Kovid made his way further into the Mosaic Room and was giving the tiles a serious look while Brendon kept looking back and forth from the keyhole at the crab’s claws and the door on the cut out on the north wall, west side of the room. “Now knowing how it feels to be stabbed in the back, I might have sympathy for those I attack” The scout absently rubbed his shoulder as he made his to the door. “Nah, I won’t.”
Looking at the sleeping 600# Albino Ape, Abraxas sloly lifted the cabinet back to the upright position, opened the door with quiet care, pointed his sword at the animal’s chest…and shoved the sword home. The Ape woke up briefly, eyes flaring with anger as it locked gaze with Abraxas…and then closed them and died. "Apologies, Señor Alpaca. ¡Vayas con Dios!"
“Is it dead?”
“Si, Senora.”
“Like really dead?”
“Um…let me check.” Abraxas pulled his sword free with a wet schlorking sound, and jammed it back into the Ape’s chest again, making more blood flow. The animal did not move. “Si, Senora Liar, the ape, he be dead.” Looking at Lannis, Abraxas asked, “No more Stirgeses? ¿Y que es la agua? ¿Peligroso?” and went to join him at the tub.
“Goddess Aine, guide this noble animal to its own afterlife.” She crouched low and looked over the Ape with slow care. (<Wis +2 cleric, White 8) The Ape was large, and the coloring was not typical. It was male and old, definitely over 40 years of age. There were old scars on its knuckles and wrists, but on his right chest was the number “3” with a stylized “L” below it – the same as Medusa except with a different number. “Could…could this be another one of the Mother of Monster’s children? And it lived here for 4 decades, only to be killed by us? Even the filth from Jector didn’t kill it.” She rubbed her forehead. “Sweet Aine, did we just make a mistake?”
Abraxas and Lannis were looking the pool over and the Elf handed the silver dagger back to the Fighter. “Monsieur Salazar, merci for de dagger.” Wyn then made his way into the Mosaic Room, briefly talking to Brendon first. “If anyone is asking me,” Lannis called out to the Scout and Elf, “I feel like we should check out all the doors in here before we go messing with any keys, just in case.”
“I’m on it, Magic User,” Brendon muttered.
Lannis shrugged, voice inching higher. “Is Brendon an expert on magic keys in relation to the architecture of ancient Elven castles? Lannis isn't. Might as well finish searching first is all I’m saying.”
“Why no Lannis,” Retorted Brendon, “I’m not an expert on the architecture of ancient Elven castles, you’re absolutely right!” He lowered his voice, “Stupid asshole.” Tapping Wyn, he pointed to the other door and kept heading there to look it over for traps. “Sorry, Wyn. Let’s keep searching.”
Lannis (<Int, Pink 16) and Abraxas (>Int, Blue 20) both spent a few minutes going through the tub. “Water’s fresh,” Lannis noted. Abraxas stuck his hand in and slurped it, “Si! It is!”
“Sigh.” Lannis looked over the wall and base of the tub, rolling up his sleeve and plunging his hand in and feeling for the bottom. “Drain holes, no manual drain. Tub isn’t emptying.”
“Hmm. Si, you are right.”
“No obvious way to fill it, seems to be a spigot here but no manual way to do it.” Abraxas grabbed the spigot and pulled it, pushed it, and tried to twist it – all to no avail. “Si, you are right again!”
“Grrr.” Throwing his hands up, Lannis rose to his feet and shrugged. “I’d say Magic.”
“Hokay. You can say it, Senor. I’ll wait.”
“Huh?”
“Say Magic. That it is, si?”
Throughout all this Kovid was in the Mosaic room looking at the tiles (=Int +2 Dwarf, Yellow 14). “Hmm, they look new, but that is not true,” he muttered at Lyra wandered in looking around. “The mortar is worn and chipped, as expected for 4 or 5 centuries. Some repairs here and there. But the entire place is well repaired and is polished. Doubt the Hobs give a crap to do so, so I’d say some latent elven preservation spell is in place.”
“I would agree Monsieur Dwarf,” Wyn was walking around slowly, making his way to the southeast wall and the part of the mosaic that had the key hole. “Elves are bit on having things last, no?”
“True. Not as much as dwarves though.”
“I would Dees-Ah-Grie with zat of course.”
“Only because you don’t know dwarven attention to longevity.”
“Elves make things to last centuries, Monsieur.”
“Dwarves make things to last forever.”
“Maybe, Of course you are entitled to your opinion.” Wyn had gotten very close to the keyhole and was looking at it carefully. He took out the Ishtari Key and held it close to the lock to measure the relative size of it – noting two things: 1) it looked like it would fit perfectly. And 2) the keyhole, began to glow faintly blue as the key was brought closer. “Hmm.”
Brendon meanwhile had gone over the door to what he guessed was a storage area with care (>Find Traps, Red 48) and after a few minutes, was sure the door was not trapped, it was not locked, and opened away from him and to the right. Nodding to himself, he grabbed the handle and turned it until the knob clicked, and then began to open it.
And MEANWHILE (so many!) Lyra had been looking over the Mosaic room, looking at the depictions and seeing if there is some religious significance to them. (<Int +2 Cleric, White 11) “Ok,” she murmured. “The elf in the crown is most likely the Ispan, and the crown looks like what we were told the Prism Crown is. That’s easy. This woman here…that’s Ishtari. She’s hiding and watching because she’s a voyeur goddess and likes to indirectly influence her followers. The frolicking elves, that’s a metaphor for sex, not being gross so showing them playing without penetration. Blue is the color of peace. The armored ones on flying mounts, I think its window dressing.”
She wandered to another wall. “Mermaids and dragons – are NOT Ishtari, and that black rock – not a color for elves typically and Ishtari. Hmm…The crab though, why hide a keyhole there? Crabs are guardians of the water. And to elves the water...mermaids…frolicking…sex…Hmmm. The womb, the water is a representation of the womb. And birth.”
“So, is this Ishtari? Or the other goddess, the Mother of Monsters? Or both?”
Finally though back to Brendon, he opened the door and look in. The room was not a closet, but was a 20’ square chamber. In the center of the room as per the dim light from the distant lantern was a 5’ tall pale pink marble PEDESTAL. The room seemed to be unadorned, but to Brendon it felt cool…dormant…almost hollow.
Time now is 9:51
(OOC)
That’s everyone ! Lots to talk about and decide. Key or not? Pink room or not? Last door with the steam or not?
No comments:
Post a Comment