[CLOSED] DON'T DUMAT OPEN INSIDE

[katabasis]

WHO: Adrasteia, Laura, Ellis, Tony, Val & Holden
WHAT: Exploration of the Temple of Dumat
WHEN: Drakonis
WHERE: Northern Orlais, Ghislain, ...The Temple of Dumat
NOTES: Mild horror; content warn as necessary; OOC Plot Information; Original Investigation Report

Though the end of winter is hardly the most pleasant time to go trekking through old ruins, returning to the excavated Shrine of Dumat in the heart of the Ghislain region of Orlais is simple enough. Thanks to the collapse of the Venatori-Ander force's hold on the region, they face no opposition and will easily find their way there. While a small contingent of Exalter Marchers has been tasked with keeping tabs on the ruin to make sure no enemy return to it, they've been wary of digging too deep into the sanctum's lowest levels. So congrats: you all get to pick up right where the last group of Riftwatchers left off (or finish what you started in the first place, Tony).

The team has been tasked with two primary objectives:

• Follow up on the first team's work. Explore the ritual chamber of the shrine where the rumored "gate" is located; recover any artifacts or clues therein and retrieve as much data about the rift as possible. If anything isn't safe to bring back to the Gallows (like, say, a certain blighted Venatori mage's corpse), conduct a thorough study and then destroy whatever can't be recovered lest it fall into enemy hands. If you can figure out how to close the gate, then all the better.
  
  
• Thoroughly explore the remainder of the ruin. Verify that there are no ancillary shenanigans on site beyond those found in the ritual chamber. Collect any additional information or traces of Venatori activity on site.

How This Works:
Objective One, which features the exploration of the ritual chamber with its tainted rift and the miscellaneous clues which can be found there are a free-for-all mingle zone. The whole group can interact with that area.

Objective Two, the detailed exploration of the additional chambers, will consist of two branching paths. Look for the header with your character's name in it. These sections will consist of a series of dungeon rooms featuring good old fashioned traps, puzzles, with general exploration hi-jinks encouraged.

Each chamber will be described upon entry and have its own conditions for solving the area and allowing characters to progress through the dungeon, but don't worry if you're not big on puzzles. The ruins have seen better days and what may have once been problems with definitive solutions may now be a little less rigid.

As your characters explore and attempt to solve the puzzles they come across or wander across taps, I will interject here and there with relevant updates. If at any point you get stuck, you can attempt a Perception Check by bolding the relevant section of your tag (i.e. 'She studies the runes on the doors and [blah blah blah insert the rest of the tag here.]') and putting CHECK in the subject line of your comment. I will then roll to see how much information your character manages to glean in order to provide additional hints and clues.

These clues will be oocly visible to everyone, but icly known only to the character who made the check.

If the group as a whole at any point decides they're done playing with puzzles and want the cheat codes for the current room, have the next player put SKELETON KEY in the subject line of their comment and I'll provide you with the solution. I'd much rather we have a satisfying narrative adventure than trap anyone in rooms just because folks aren't feeling a particular puzzle.

If you have any questions, ASK ME HERE.

Comments

[degenere]

"It must be," Val says, "something to do with the skies--"

Seated with his back to that central pedestal, he is sketching as he speaks, putting the finishing touches on Silentir in his commonplace book, starting on an approximate floorplan of the room that they have found themselves in. The fact that his voice is quieted by whatever dark and oppressive presence rules this space still does not deter him from speaking. Valentine de Foncé will speak whenever and wherever and however he pleases. He will also be comfortable whenever and wherever and however he pleases. The fact that the light is extremely poor by which to sketch--the fact that the very air in this room is unpleasant--neither bothers him. Nothing can bother a man who is assured that he is welcome in every space he has ever set foot in, and has never experienced any significant pushback against that assumption.

He takes a break to gesture overhead and behind him with the nub of charcoal pencil with which he sketches. The pedestal.

"She resembles a moon, does she not? And the constellation before. We might consider the phases through which the moons pass."

PERCEPTION CHECK

[propulsion]

Tony is staring down at the circles on the ground, following the path of the middle one by walking along it, his lantern dangled low to try and scope out whatever is there to see. The notches are noted, compared, and he silently points to one and the other as if to ask the question silently: do these line up?

Maybe.

He sets his right foot on the middle zone and his left against the inner, and kind of half-heartedly tries to deploy some friction to attempt to shift the circles or at all sense if they give from brute force alone, as Val speaks up.

"Well, watch your fingers."

[katabasis]

In reply to the push of Tony's foot, there is the faintest wobble. Clearly, the disks are meant to move. Clearly, they're locked in place by something.

[degenere]

Val stops sketching and looks at his fingers.

Then he stows his writing book and pencil in his satchel, swings it around his shoulders and climbs gamely to his feet.

"Do they move independently? Or when we move one, will all move?"

He gets down on his hands and knees on tier two, trying to peer beneath it to see if there is any space there, anything that might be wedged in and hobbling the movement of disk one. It is, of course, very dark. But he has excellent eyesight, being Orlesian. Yet who has better eyesight than the elves? He gestures excitedly to the Warden.

"Mademoiselle Warden! Your eyes are needed!"

CHECK

[kantikoy]

Adrasteia has been watching the two of them for a moment while also attempting to note the various markings on the floor. She comes over to Val when he calls for her, tilting her head in one direction as she glances at the place where he'd been kneeling.

"What do you need me to look at?" She peers at the markings on the floor, trying to see if there is something that is stopping the concentric circles from rotating or if they would all move should there be enough pressure applied to the three of them simultaneously.

She looks over towards the bowl in the center of the room. "Where is the moon when Silentir is high in the sky?" she asks Val. "Have we tried to see if that moves, as well?" Pointing to the centerpiece.

[katabasis]

Though there's no obvious mechanism visible which is stopping the rings and no amount of force seems to encourage them to move more than a fraction in either direction, each disk has a faint sense of give distinct from its neighbor. They must move independently from one another.

[kantikoy]

"They'll move on their own, not together, but I don't know how," Adrasteia puffs out her cheeks and makes a face at the entire room. "This is at the center, and I feel like that must be important."

She wonders if blood is the key here, but she's not about to bleed tainted Warden's blood into the bowl at the center of the room to find out.

CHECK

[degenere]

Val, back on his feet, climbs to look at the pedestal. He feels at the pedestal's surface, trying to push at it, to rotate it, to see if it, too, has any suggestion of a give, without touching the crescent-shaped depression or that etched bar.

"Silentir loves," does he remember, is it in his notes somewhere, "winter? Game is lean--thus, the horn, the wand. I think that to be correct at least."

[katabasis]

Unlike the disks surrounding it, the pedestal doesn't show any sign of give. It's locked into place, a robust point of orientation around which the disks must rotate.

Upon close inspection however, there is the finest crack at the base of that razor sharp crescent which divides the bowl. The crack is on the narrow side—the sliver of a waxing moon's disk which should be dark and very lean indeed.

PERCEPTION? CHECK

[propulsion]

"We're probably supposed to pee in it."

Definitely something worth wrecking his throat to say.

Tony is wearing gloves, the kind he uses to handle dangerous things in a workshop. Not quite proof against razor edges but certainly sturdier than naked human flesh. He peels one of 'em off now, pressing a thin smile at the others.

"If this doesn't work, don't tell anyone 'bout this next thing," he says, before reaching in to nick the back of his knuckles, shallowly, against the sharp edge of the crescent.

[katabasis]

Age apparently has done nothing blunt the crescent's edge. Even that shallow contact cuts just deeply enough to induce a few droplets of blood to slither down each side of the blade.

The two droplets which fall to the larger side of the waxing moon image roll off the blade and slip so smoothly into the deepest portion of the basin that the blood might be oil in a warm pan. And there the two droplets remain.

The droplet which falls to the narrow side of the bowl slips down the blade's side and promptly drains into that hairline crack lurking at the crescent's base.

Good news: this all seems to be according to design. Bad news: There's no click or wobble or exciting lyrium glow in answer. The waiting disks show no sign of unlocking

Yet.

Feed me, Seymour.

[kantikoy]

The look Adrasteia gives Tony is entirely 'what in the everloving fuck do you think you're doing sirrah' and not an ounce of anything else, much less any sense of being impressed by the fact that the moon, the floor, and nothing else in the room moves as a result. She's not sure that he was wrong, exactly, but she has to set a standard before one of them bleeds out on the floor trying to figure this out.

She waves a hand. The slit on Tony's knuckle heals up and she takes a deep breath.

"If you don't mind... I would appreciate it if you would stop bleeding on things of unknown origins in this place. As both the spirit healer and the Warden in the room, I suggest that I be the one doing the bleeding, and that the both of you stand back."

Even at the fiercest whisper she can manage, she does sound a little put out.

[propulsion]

Tony says 'ow, sunuvabitch', but he doesn't shout it, and so words get absorbed into the silence.

And then that little touch of healing light, and he inspects the back of his hand. Before he has time to be grateful (or make some attempt at giving that a try), he's being shout-whispered at, and casts her a skeptical look as he flexes his healed up fingers.

"You being the only healer is a good reason to keep most of your blood in you, don't you think?" he shouts back, but without heat. It's just impossible to sound chill when you're trying to talk through this dampening magic. "But as long as you're in a giving type of mood, we should probably all chip in."

[degenere]

"Of course everything is unknown until you seek to know it. Is that not why we are here?"

A maxim and point so important they must be said, no matter the cost to the voice. The unique behavior of the blood has captured Val's interest. Is it advised to continue to bleed? No. Would he prefer not to bleed? Yes. Have they any choice in this moment?

Val shoves his sleeve up onto his forearm and holds up his hand, with the game and slightly manic smile of an extremely dedicated scholar being asked to spill his own blood in order to progress to the next step of this very large group research project.

"The question: the pan, or the crevice? My blood is for the latter."

[kantikoy]

Adrasteia throws up her hands at the both of these impossible men. What in the Gaze of the Maker did she do to deserve to be in this place, with these men, who want to bleed all over things built for collecting blood.

She knows she can't talk them out of it.

"Fine." It sounds petulant at this volume but she's beyond caring now. "No major points of bleeding. Stay away from the wrists, the inside of the arms. I'll take the pan. Tony?"

[propulsion]

A hint of surprise crosses Tony's expression as Val starts on his sleeve, followed by a mirrored grin back at him.

Teamwork makes the dream work.

There's impishness left over for Adrasteia too as she's outnumbered. "Let's you and I both pan. Switch if the crevice needs more," is yelled as he rolls his own sleeve back. "Avoid the palm too. That sucks a lot. Whoever gives the most without swooning wins and is also the most manly."

And this time he will wait for someone else to get started before he'll (after a few quick breaths to brace himself, like you might before jumping under water) drag the topside of his forearm against the razor edge.

BLOOD CHECK (pt 1 of 3)

[degenere]

"Orlais will triumph," Val shouts in Orlesian, a blessing for that which he is about to do. He draws his bare arm over the razored crescent, one quick slice. The pain is shocking, a quick burn, a heat. Val sucks in a breath, exhales an oath (also in Orlesian).

Then he sidesteps, both so there is room at the pedestal for his fellows, and so that he can tip his arm and direct the flow of his blood into the cut crevice. The blood comes quick, steady, good and rich and red and Val already feels a dizzy spike and tug somewhere in the region of his brain and nose and telegraphed into his knees. He grins through the feeling as he looks around, to see what effect their sacrifices might have.

[katabasis]

And down the blood goes:

—Sucked thirstily into that subtle seam at the blade's base with such efficiency that it hardly lingers in the lean side of the depression before draining away.

—Or pooling dark and black in the basin of the waxing moon.

PERCEPTION CHECK

[kantikoy]

In an obvious attempt not to roll her eyes out of her head at both of them for saying the most absolutely ridiculous things (Orlais will triumph, indeed), Adrasteia casts a look around the room to see if anything in the room has changed as Tony and Val bleed into their perspective portions of the blood collecting apparatus.

No matter what the result of her attempt to sense any shifting in the room she does join in the bloodletting, hopefully adding enough so that the bowl fills.

She doesn't want them to have to stand here for long, honestly.

[katabasis]

While there is no perceptible change in the room, there is a faint vibration from somewhere deep in the pedestal which translates up through the razor edged crescent and may be felt when Adrasteia touches it.

Once the waxing moon pan is filled, a sudden shift occurs. Without further warning, the central most disk directly under their feet suddenly collapses a few inches downward. It locks firmly into place about the pedestal's base.

The second and third disks, still at their original elevations, now may be freely rotated.

CHECK

[propulsion]

Tony reels back a step as the platform they are in jolts down that few inches, clasping his hand over still bleeding gash drawn through his arm. This is all distinctly stupid, a thought that skips like a stone off wooziness and giddiness and the spark-crackle of adrenaline.

But hey, something happened.

'They should really provide some OJ at these things,' is not a good enough quip to bother shouting, but spoken anyway into the silence. "Watch your feet," is worth the shout, anyway, as uses his foot to try and turn the middle-most disc so that its notch lines up with the fixed inner circle's notch.

[katabasis]

The middle disk smoothly rotates around, a further subterranean vibration accompanying its movement. Rather than collapsing dramatically into place, it simply sinks slowly downward by degrees as it's rotated. By the time the notches align, it sits level with the inner disk.

CHECK which hopefully makes sense

[degenere]

The judder of the platform settling had jolted Val forward, face too close to the basin of blood. As he now pushes back, he sees Tony's work result in a genuine development and makes a noise of excitement. Given the muffling effects on the chamber, this comes out to no more than a ">!!" before he shoves back and clambers to the third disk, and begins shoving at the third disk.

Blood loss and one blood slippery hand makes this a slow process. He works to move that disk so that the large partial notch on disk three batches up with the small partial notch on disk two.

almost like I cruelly gave you all a visual puzzle and forced you to write words about it instead

[katabasis]

As its closest sibling had done, the third disk too skates into place with a low humming sensation that is felt through the floor rather than heard.

The moment it latches into place, there is a palpable shift in all three rotating sections of the floor. With Tony, Adrasteia, and Val scattered over top of them, the disks abruptly begin a patient descent down around the central column upon which the pedestal rests.

When the disks finally come to a halt, they have formed a series of large steps--something like a miniature inverse amphitheater with the pedestal column high at its center. And while it wouldn't be impossible to climb back up to the pedestal, the gap between it at the edge of the upper chamber's remaining floor would make for a daunting leap.

Luckily, a comparatively appealing route has opened before them. Located in the curving wall of this lower chamber is a distinctly bell-shaped doorway which leads onward into the darkness.

[kantikoy]

Maker's breath.

This whole puzzle room is making Adrasteia's head spin, or is that the blood loss? Either way, with a wave of her staff the scratches on their arms heal up smoothly, and she puts it away while taking in a deep breath.

"Onward?" She asks, but there's not really any question, is there? They're going to check out this bell-shaped doorway, without a doubt.

She does wish that they'd all been able to stick together instead of separating into two different rooms, but that's not anything she can do something about right now, so there's little point in focusing on it.