AMARANTHINE JONES & THE HUNDRED PILLARS.

[saam]

WHO: Wysteria Poppell, Eshal Fazon, Frédérique Durfort-Lacapalette.
WHAT: Epic tale in which an intrepid archaeologists try to beat a band of Venatori to a unique religious relic which is central to their plans for world domination. Battling against snake phobia and a vengeful nun, they are in constant peril, making hair's-breadth escapes at every turn in this celebration of the innocent adventure movies of an earlier era.
WHEN: Kingsway
WHERE: The Hundred Pillars
NOTES: No face melting.

• For reference.
• Starters in commentssss.

Comments

[saam]

You get through twisting hallways and the traps and all the bullshit, and then there's an old lady with some metal bits. Apparently the bits-- sword shards, obviously-- are important to... somebody. The thing they're supposed to find.

Great.

They step out to 'discuss this fantastic revelation', which is code for 'the crone is freaking me out'. At least, Eshal thinks it is. She leans back on the cold wall and waits for the door to close behind the other two. There's an odd weight to the floor-- it's probably balanced on something.

If Eshal had to guess, she'd say there's a trap based on stepping on the wrong tiles. She bases it on the fact that they're right next to the old lady's room, and some bits of tile are completely pristine, as though they've never been touched or stepped on. It's how they've gotten through other traps before, noticing that some strips of floor or wall seem completely untouched.

So it's probably not worth mentioning.

She shrugs in the direction of the others. "So, what d'you wanna do? It's all Trade to me." She rolls her eyes, not quite laughing at her own joke.

[aventuriere]

"Well, we are certainly not leaving the artifact here for the Venatori to recover," Freddie replies, following Eshal back out of the chamber, "Sister Maria will be no match for them. But I have no desire to harm an old woman, and a sister of the chantry. Not to mention the knowledge she may have of this place which could be quite valuable."

She taps a finger against her lips, then realizes she is wearing dusty, cobwebby gloves, and makes a face. A turn on her heel takes her pacing around Eshal. "Could we instead--"

A stone sinks beneath her foot with a click and a groan of ancient machinery, but despite its age it works too fast to be avoided. The floor opens beneath the trio, and they tumble down onto sand. Not just sand. "Oh dear," Freddie says, "Apologies, ladies, I should have been watching my step."

[heirring]

She'd been expecting something like the Château Derosiers in Orlais - secret passages oily with the sensation of magic so old that it felt like looking at a grimy old looking glass where the silver backing has begun to tarnish, reflection gone spotty. It would be nice if it had. Maybe then, standing at the edge of the big room, she might have thought to say 'Oh Freddie, not that stone; it seems rather off.'

So, into the sand pit it is with a single one of their torches tumbling in after them. It lands with a bruising whack on her shin, and would have promptly set fire to her skirts if she weren't wearing the long leather coat over it. So instead it just hurts.

Swallowing down a single prim curse in the guttering torchlight, Wysteria dons a note of faux cheer: "Well at least this pit wasn't full of old swords like the other one."

[saam]

Eshal doesn't land on her feet, but she knows how to land from a fall and keep going. She rolls with the momentum and ends up with sand in her hair. As injuries go, she's doing fine.

Her pride can get fucked, as always.

She stands, shaking sand from her eyes. "Everybody okay?"

[aventuriere]

"An excellent point, Miss Poppell. It could have been swords. Or the very deep well." Freddie is getting to her feet and brushing herself off, from trousers (specially-tailored adventuring trousers of her own design, she'd mentioned earlier with distinct pride) to flapping sand out of the tail of her long-ish jacket. Only it's not just sand that comes loose, a snake propelled out of a dragging fold of the material and into mid-air, where it twists in some confusion before falling to the ground.

With the rest of its kind. It's about now that Freddie notices: first the one snake, and then several more, and then the whole entire floor. Some bits of the walls, as well, draped or slithering through cracks in the rock.

"Dear me," she says, stepping back up onto a fallen bit of pillar or some such. "I'm usually just fine with snakes but I must confess I feel this is too many."

[heirring]

"Snakes--"

As far as last words before being stricken with mortal fear goes, it's not a very good one. It sounds rather bewildered, and is punctuated by a baffled moment where Wysteria looks to Freddie, then to Eshal, and then finally to the coursing earth recoiling from the heat of the torch's fire.

The next moment, she is on her feet. In the one following that, Wysteria is all but clambering up Eshal's side with a wordless, choked sound of horror.

[saam]

Eshal grunts and takes Wysteria up, an arm under her legs, as one would hold a toddler. It's not without some effort, but she's clearly strong enough.

As for the snakes-- she crushes one's skull under her boot.

"Tell me one of you has some rope left."