MOD EVENT ↠ CREEPY CRAWLERS

[faderifting]

WHO: Everybody
WHAT: Weird shit comes to Kirkwall Riftwatch earns its keep
WHEN: August 20-22
WHERE: Kirkwall
NOTES: OOC post! Random creature generator! CW: creepy crawly animals and the combating thereof.

I. KIRKWALL

The first Fade-touched creatures are small—they must be—because the first signs that something has gone wrong aren't swarms of oversized pests stomping through the streets, but a half-day of unexplained fires in Lowtown and Darktown, splotches of mysterious ice on the walls despite the heat, and the sudden simultaneous electrocution deaths of two dock workers standing knee-deep in water.

Rumors that mages must be to blame don't have an opportunity to get louder than whispers, fortunately, before the first pack of double-sized, fire spitting nugs is startled out of hiding and runs through the city, squeaking wildly and singeing walls.

By nightfall, it's become an invasion: rats, nugs, bats, deepstalkers, some oversized, some aggressive, all exhibiting unusual abilities. The City Guard—already overworked due to the traditional rash of crimes that often accompanies a heatwave combined with the caffeine-related unrest—does its best, but by morning the pests have reached Hightown and begun scorching curtains and leaving trails of poison slime through gardens and the Provisional Viscount sends a formal request for aid to the Gallows. It has a seal and everything.

II. DARKER THAN DARKTOWN

The old mines that Kirkwall was built around and on top of are only heavily populated near the surface. Beneath Darktown's shanties and encampments, the mining shafts narrow into passages too cramped to easily live in, twisting away from any natural sources of light and down into the black rock until not even dwarven and elven eyes can discern anything in the dark. At first, it seems cooler underground, as one would expect. But the air stagnates and the humidity rises and at times it seems that the deeper one gets, the hotter it is.

The tunnels aren't entirely deserted. Signs of activity litter the paths, along with skeletons—some animal, but also some human, dwarven, or elven—and detritus, discarded rags and broken pottery, and a whole collection of dolls made of bundled twigs. The smugglers and reclusive Darktown denizens who travel this deep are difficult to come across in person, and prone to attacking first if cornered by anyone too clean and official-looking, but now and then they can be seen disappearing around corners or heard whispering from side passages.

Navigating the mining shafts is fairly straightforward, most of the time. Widening passages and upward inclines are the way out; narrowing passages and downward inclines are the way in. If fire and glow stones fail, sending crystals cast a faint light that's enough to keep anyone from being completely blind in the depths. But there are still passages that turn back on themselves, downward tunnels boarded over with bridges that have begun to rot, tunnels half-flooded with Maker-knows-what, steep drops—and the occasional stampede of Fade-touched creatures, more and more frequent closer to the rift.

Close enough, the jet-black stone walls begin to reflect green light, and then the tunnels open up into a wide open space full of damp, briney cool air. And demons.

III. THE RIFT

It's just a rift: the usual split of churning green, so bright in the dark that it's nearly blinding, hanging over standing water in the center of a wide-open chamber, patrolled by the usual demons.

But once they're dispensed with, and the rift closed, the chamber is something more unusual. The standing water is salty—coming in from the sea, at least in part, never deeper than the knees (or waist, maybe, on a dwarf) but populated with a few small fish, and the stone around it is covered with deep mushroom, ghoul's beard, and a few sprigs of rare felandaris. Beneath the overgrowth, there are signs of architecture, dwarven columns and crumbling statues of dragons in the Tevinter style.

Beneath the water, the floor is carved with a design not unlike a glyph, and also not unlike the pattern of Kirkwall's streets. The Veil is so thin that a sneeze could have torn it open.

Comments

[murderbaby]

Mhavos has been pouring over a few scraps of his own, frowning slightly in the half light. He looks up at the other elf-- Inessa? A city elf name, he's fairly sure, but it's hard to tell, outside of Orlais-- and nods, padding over to her.

One of his fragments fits hers. "Whoever dug these was mad," Mhavos murmurs, accent growing thicker with frustration. "It's less a maze than a lower intestine."

Why would he know what any intestines looks like? Don't question it. A sound echoes in the darkness, unhuman and hungry.

"We'd best be moving... This way, I believe." He begins walking toward one of the paths before them, trying to stay out of the way of the Inevitable Fereldan Dog.

[circleprodigy]

Fortunately, Inessa has long-ago become accustomed to non-Fereldan accents, nodding with a vaguely amused sound. She narrows her eyes at the sound and grips her staff, gesturing for Garahel to join her other side. It's a good way of keeping somewhat squishy self in the middle, and putting a barrier between her friendly dog and people who might not appreciate that friendliness. Anyone who doesn't immediately and enthusiastically greet Garahel is wrong assumed not to be a dog person, which she takes in stride. The mission is what matters, anyway.

"Right." She follows along, her stride automatically quickening to match his own pace. Her runed staff sheds some light, but she's uncertain if that's an actual boon or not. Being able to see is nice -and rather necessary for someone not taught any blindfightng- but she still worries about what it might attract.

"It's almost more frustrating, having only part of a picture. This scavenger hunt better lead to something more--" She stopped abruptly, pausing to listen. But all was quiet, prompting her to rush and catch up.

[murderbaby]

"I'll be happy to get out of this intact," Mhavos murmurs, checking the map fragments. He turns his head to find... is that a bit of light peeking out? Either something's glowing, or there's light behind that crack in the ceiling.

Is it really a ceiling if it's a tunnel?

Mhavos points to it, checking if his companion sees it too.

[circleprodigy]

"That, too." Inessa's lips form a thin line; she's been observing Garahel in the periphery of her vision. The way he sniffs and tenses up periodically means that they're never too far from unseen critters from the deep. Were he a younger and less experienced mabari, he might have darted off to fight them on his own.

As Mhavos points, she peers upward and narrows her eyes. "I see it, too. Let's find out where it's coming from...though with as little noise as we can manage." The small Warden mage raises her staff up a bit, hoping the pale blue light from its rune will give enough to have them make sense of it. But the rune was made to combat taint-infused creatures, not provide the best source of illumination possible.

[murderbaby]

"Can't you...?" She's a mage, right? Can't she, you know... do mage things? He makes a vague hand gesture, something that's clearly supposed to be magic, and clearly interrupted when the dog gets too close. He glares at the creature, not entirely sure why.

[circleprodigy]

Garahel makes a questioning noise upon being subjected to that glare and backs up a little, though remaining at Inessa's side. He's never too far from his mistress and that's not going to change now, of all times. Inessa herself arched an eyebrow as her companion trailed off.

"...what, blast it? There's no telling what that would cause, or the attention it would attract. I...could try to energize the ceiling, if any parts of it are loose, but that could have its own consequences. I'm not against trying, just....be prepared to run, if it ends badly."