faderift | [CLOSED] DON'T DUMAT OPEN INSIDE

Entry tags:

[CLOSED] DON'T DUMAT OPEN INSIDE

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"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.

Edited 2021-03-09 01:05 (UTC)

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.~~

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.

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."

"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."

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?"

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.

"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.

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.

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.

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.

Edited (Minor tweak, forgot my own notes dont look at me) 2021-03-10 19:03 (UTC)

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.

Edited 2021-03-11 09:43 (UTC)

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.

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.

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.

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.

"Behind me," Tony says. A little gurgly, having stopped to take a deep, deep drink of water from his canteen or whatever the medievals call them. It does a little something to ease the fact he feels like he's been karaoke-ing some screamo for the past three hours.

The cap is twisted back into place, and he nods to the Warden, a thanks for the healing.

Of course, 'behind me' means he has to get down there, and he's currently king of the hill. Ably enough, maybe surprisingly so for being King Nerd and pushing fifty, he clambers down, sits and jumps, until he lands amongst them at the lower level.

Both gloves have been stowed into a pocket, and the shard in his left hand crackles fitfully when he shakes it out some, heading into the doorway. Hopefully first. If not, he'll make a face, and go in whenever.

With the grace of someone who takes unannounced magical healing very much for granted--not because he's been subjected to it with any regularity, but because good things just happen to Val de Foncé--and because he is so glutted with things to look at and think about and consider--Val has already scrambled to look at the door, touch its edges, search for impressions or reliefs or friezes that might be admired--and, while he is there, peer into its darkness, listen to its depths.

It should therefore be appreciated, that he has not gone running off on his own. As his companions approach, he looks around--remembers they are there--ah!, too quiet to be heard--and steps extravagantly to one side.

"Monsieur Lumière!"

Of course the light--however spooky and spectral and green--should be first. Ostensibly it can also act as defense. Good. This will leave more time for Val to look at things. And if he can't lead, he'll be second.

Ah, canteens. A good idea, actually, and for once Adrasteia doesn't mind taking up the rear. She's not a glass cannon by any respect but getting knocked in the solar plexus would effectively stop any casting she'd managed, so.

She gives Tony and Val a salute and keeps her stave in hand.

What she does, as she drinks her water and tries not to empty the canteen she's carrying in one go, is try to get a sense of the dimensions of where they're headed, be it to a room or just another hallway, plus reaching with her Warden senses to try and tell if anything dangerous and Blighted is waiting for them ahead.

As they move through the bell-shaped doorway into the passage beyond, it becomes immediately clear that this portion of the temple hasn't been nearly as well preserved as other sections. Thick cobwebs lace the walls; the once-polished floor is dusty; a brackish tang lingers heavy in the musty air.

Yes, there is likely something out there waiting in the dark.

Green light plays off the curved walls in fitful sparks and snaps of electrical charge, Tony almost negligently holding up his hand to see by it. He goes carefully, each step considered and tested, but not slow by any means. Ready to hit the brakes if someone awful happens, or hit something awful with blasting Fade energy.

He wrinkles his nose at the smell of this place. "If we need to get all Crawling In My Skin on another weird blood lock, we should probably wipe it down first," is his suggestion, which barely echoes back to them in the oppressive silence.

No pausing to say so, though. Now and then, the fact he can't hear their footsteps compels him to glance backwards more often than he normally might, but otherwise, onwards.

Val keeps very close behind, largely so that he can use the uncertain shard light to try and the walls that they are walking past. He leaves his book and pencil tucked away--not that he is unpracticed with writing or sketching while walking--but it would not do, to find one's self suddenly faced with some danger and have only a pencil for defense.

Then again, would he notice any danger? For he is too occupied with scouring the walls for any new markings or drawings. He sticks out his hand frequently as they walk, entirely without any fear, to brush away the thick soapy strands of cobwebs. If there was a constellation before, and then moons, what might he find here?

Under the shroud of the cobwebs, the walls of the passage here are marked with an undulating, wave-like texture. Here and there along the corridor, the current is broken up by instances of swirling eddies and the rudimentary figures being tossed in them. Luckily, though they've clearly been carefully etched, the grime and age have reduced any cutting capacity the dark waves might originally have had.

As they travel further, they'll slowly become aware of a faint sound: their own footsteps. It grows more definitive with each step they take as if whatever has broached this chamber to open it to wear has also weakened the muffling pall cast over the rest of the temple. Even the light of Tony's anchor extends nominally better here.

Eventually, the passage opens up into a large chamber. A great stationary figure waits at its center for them with a further shadowy shape arcing over it. But before they can get a good look at the architectural elements of the room, a distinctly unpleasant skittering pierces the quiet.

Adrasteia takes in the cobwebs, the skittering noises, and sighs, which can't be heard at this point at all. Her voice is going to be shot after this, she knows now; her earlier idea of singing into the night sky will probably not be in the cards.

She taps Val on the shoulder and makes a wiggly gesture with one hand above the other, meant to indicate spiders; she figures that Tony will have reached the same conclusion already, but she does make the same gesture in his direction the next time he glances back her way. a

Spiders. There are definitely going to be spiders. She casts a barrier on everyone as they enter the room because this is going to go bad quickly as far as she can tell.

Tony whistles, long and slow, testing the noise negation. The sound carries further than it has in prior attempts, enough that it could almost echo with a little more effort, but then again, maybe not. Getting a sense of progress is in itself a disorienting activity, and immediately backburnered when that skittering sound snags his focus off the shapes of the room.

Cool. Cool cool cool. He reaches into his pocket to snag out his left glove, and tug that on quietly, standing in place as the others filter in behind him. The green glow diminishes for a second, and then almost brightens as its directed through the lens set into his glove, lamp-like.

He clocks: staircase leading into water, waterline, dragon construction.

"Stay close," he says. Still shouting, but his voice is less muted than before, enough that after those two words, he eases up on the gas, there. "Think we need to fill that to drain it. Take a look around, I'll watch out for creepy crawlies."

[CLOSED] DON'T DUMAT OPEN INSIDE

PERCEPTION? CHECK

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

BLOOD CHECK (pt 1 of 3)

no subject

PERCEPTION CHECK

no subject

CHECK

no subject

CHECK which hopefully makes sense

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

no subject

no subject

no subject

PERCEPTION CHECK

no subject

no subject

CHECK

no subject

no subject

no subject

CHECK

imagine as many spiders as your heart desires; not gonna make y'all keep tabs on enemies

PERCEPTION CHECK

(no subject)

(no subject)