MOD PLOT ↠ BEFORE THE GATES | PUZZLE LOG

[faderifting]

WHO: Bastien, Byerly, Cosima, Derrica, Edgard, Ellis, Flint, Gwenaëlle, Josias, Loxley, Marcus, Mobius, Redvers, Sidony, Tiffany, Tony, Viktor
WHAT: Puzzles and sacrifice
WHEN: Mid Kingsway
WHERE: A temple in Arlathan Forest
NOTES: See also OOC post, open log.

The search pays off, after a few weeks, when a team—every team, independently, separated from the others by foliage and time, and unaware they aren't the only ones—stumbles upon a sizable contingent of Venatori and their allies making steady progress toward a ruined temple complex. It's too large a group for any four- or five-person team to combat directly. But they can outrun them. Whether they dash ahead of the enemy unseen or pause first to ambush or delay them, they'll beat them to the ruins. The forest is so densely grown up around and over its remnants that it's impossible to get a sense of the full scale, but something about the size of the walls and doorways arching high overhead, the opulence of the carvings and mosaics even encrusted by millenia of moss, suggests an important site. And there's a feeling, too, a spine-prickling sense of mingled excitement and foreboding, that whispers this must be the place.

That feeling is confirmed by the contents of the mosaics lining the walls, depicting a glowing golden city with a familiar arrangement of spires and towers. Looking at it causes a strangely powerful sense of deja vu until someone puts it together—these same towers now haunt the Fade, their blackened heights always visible, never reachable. The mosaic of the city circles what looks once to have been a great temple hall, perspective sloping to draw the eye to the only other doorway out of this space, an arched portal opposite, gilded to appear as if it's part of the mosaic, as if walking through it might take one through the walls of the golden city itself.

Each team will reach this temple alone and will travel through it alone. As far as they will be able to tell, they are the only ones to have made it here—perhaps the only people to set foot inside it in a thousand years or more—and the combination of time distortion and crystal lapses will make it impossible to determine otherwise. They can send all the messages they like while inside the complex, but will receive no replies until it's all over. As far as they know, they are the only people with this chance to investigate by far the most promising site Riftwatch has found in the forest. The enemy is going to arrive soon to take whatever is here, and if they leave here now who knows how long it might take to find it again.

Once they're inside, their passage through the temple will follow a linear path, with no opportunities to branch off or divide their party. There is a single route to follow, and the walls are still high and sheer and thick enough to stop them going over or under or through. Each room will present a new trial, a puzzle to be solved, feats of strength and cunning and bravery to be accomplished before the way forward is revealed. If they take the time to clear away some of the vines and study the statues and reliefs, they'll find that each room is dedicated to one or more of the Elvhen gods, which may provide clues if they know their pantheon.

Comments

[muckspout]

Panic floods Edgard's every sense. This is not good. This is extremely bad. He looks from Mobius to the rest of the group behind him, covering his mouth with his hand and huffing out loudly.

"He is joking right?!" A curse in Orlesian and then looks back at Mobius.

"Of course, we need to discuss the thing that just asked us for a sacrifice! How are we--"

He puts his hands in his hair and then squats down to his knees to take some breaths. This is an actual nightmare.

[luaithre]

Woomf.

From as far back in the room as Marcus can really get when such close confines prevent them from much in the way of privacy, let alone staff-swinging, a wall of green energy flashes through the room—harmlessly, for the record, only stirring the air around them as it passes through. Dispelling magic strikes the mosaic, and seems to scatter and dissolve on impact to no particular effect.

Marcus lowers his hands from where he'd raised his staff and splayed the other, palm open, an irritated sounding exhale leaving him. It isn't his talent, the meddling with spirits, this kind of finessing of the Veil, but rock and brimstone and molten lava is probably not going to help them either.

The butt of his staff finds the floor with a click of wood on stone. Looks to Edgard, crouching down. Next to Mobius, and the others. Says nothing.

[fairforce]

"I think we can all recite at least a line or two from the Chant," Tiffany says, somewhat archly, "so if that's the current requirement for nomination, I'd say we do need to have a debate."

Seat me by Your side in death. Make me one within Your glory.

She rolls her shoulders, gentle with the left, to avoid jarring her arm. It's been a rush, getting here--dangerous, not always pleasant, frequently painful, but still, a rush--and it was a rush beholding this ancient thing that no one has set eyes on in Ages. Now she is just tired. The flash of magic from Marcus has sobered her still more. She watches the green light strike the impassive mosaic.

"There has to be another way."

[favoriteanalyst]

The wave of magic makes him tense as it passes harmlessly by, and he gazes back at Marcus. Who says nothing. Which...yeah. Makes sense.

Looks at Edgard who seems to be having a bit of a breakdown. Looks at Tiffany. Sighs. "There ought to be," he concedes. "But if someone has to go, look, I'm the one." Just. Letting that sit there.

"What are our options? Do we try to negate the magic?" He could, sure. Tiffany ought to be able to as well. He's not sure if she knows yet or not. "How that fairs against magic of the ancient elves, I don't know, but magic is magic. All comes from the Fade." So. That's an option to try. "We could tell them to stuff it and that we're not sacrificing anyone, which could keep us trapped, but maybe they want a show of defiance?" Who knows when it comes to enchanted wall art of long dead elves. "We could all try and step up and offer ourselves as a collective. Could have the same outcome. What else have we got?"

[muckspout]

No, no, no, no, no, no, no.

"No!" Edgard says. He takes a deep breath.

"Don't think we should sacrifice anyone! Why are we blindly listening to this? Don't want to sacrifice you!" He motions to Mobius. "Don't want to sacrifice anyone."

He folds his arms.

"Don't like this and definitely don't trust it."

Edgard knows that he is wrong about many things, but this he feels absolutely certain about. That's very rare for him.

"No." He says, quieter this time.

[atonally]

The thump Redvers gives Edgard's back is equal parts approving and patronizing. Not sacrificing anyone: great idea. Not trusting spirits: best idea. But no isn't going to get them very far, seems like.

"We could all try to cleanse it at once," means everyone but Edgard. His head is cocked, considering the mosaic, unaffected by Marcus' attempt. "If it works we're still stuck here, but given some time Marcus can bring a wall down, can't you?"

Lad is implied in his tone. That's his right, having known him when he was one.

His consideration shifts into a survey of the rooms' occupants. Specifically Mobius and the Lady Seeker. They're the ones, the three of them, who have a duty to handle this kind of thing.

"Or we draw straws."

[luaithre]

That the natural step after successfully dispelling the mosaic would be to then reckon with being trapped down here, having learned nothing—well, Marcus' thinking had not actually made it that far past his attempt. Redvers raises it, angles that question his way (and Marcus is not so distracted with the prospect of human sacrifice to miss out on feeling a little irritated at his tone), and he says nothing, first, sliding a look towards the walls.

Given some time is the problem. He presses a hand to the wall as if he could try to sense its thickness and what lies beyond it and, well, maybe he can—where spirits are not his domain, the dense tectonic foundations of the world are. A glance upwards, from where they'd fallen. Presumably, there are rooms and passageways beyond this chamber, but,

"I can try," he says, quietly, "if we think the information on offer has no value."

His hand drops. Do they think that?

[favoriteanalyst]

"We can't just leave empty-handed." All of what they did has led to this, and this has to lead to something, or else what was the point of it all? Mobius motions to one of the walls. "If we gain nothing, then we can try and bring this place down, that way the Venatori don't get an upper hand. But we have to try something to get what we came for."

He looks to the Seeker. Swallows, reaches for a familiar stillness inside of him. Where a well of Maker-borne power can fill. "I'm for giving a cleansing a try." Funny way to put it, not necessarily how he would phrase it, but also not necessarily inaccurate, either. "And then see where we're at."

Drawing straws is an option. Still thinks he has a fairly decent argument for himself, but. It's a group. The group can voice opinions.