2017-06-16: Carried Forth by the Rising Wind
- Log: Carried Forth by the Rising Wind
- Cast: Cyre H. Lorentz, Gwen Whitlock, Layna Manydays, Rudy Roughnight
- Where: Rujm el-Hiri
- Date: 6/16/2017
- Summary: Cyre leads a party of heart heroes into a Baskar ruin. Another day, another dungeon, right? Just watch out for those black butterflies...
===============================<* Rujm el-Hiri *>=============================== A famed Ruin set upon a plateau along the top of a knife's edge mountain range nearer to the border of the Badlands, Rujm el-Hiri -- known as the "Singing Ruins" to the sherpa villages that dwell near its footholds -- is a megalithic monument consisting of a massive set of concentric circles of stone with an ancient temple at the centre. On closer inspection, the concentric circles are all stacked burial mounds, making the place one giant grave, whispered in rumours to originate from a civilisation that perished a long time ago, punished for their hubris. Recently, the ever-sealed door that has stumped many a Drifter was opened, leaving this Ruin open for exploration. But sordid tales await those that go within Rujm el-Hiri without preparation, for even if one is strong of heart and fortitude, the foreboding song that echoes at the back of one's mind is more than just a cautionary tale.... what secrets and sorrows lie at the heart of this Ruin? BGM: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=75YyJ9FQnMI
=============<* CHALLENGE - The Yawning Gate of Non-Perception *>============= |Type: Entry |Dungeon Ability: Wits |Challenge Rating: 1 | --------------------------< Challenge Information: >-------------------------- You ascend up the mountain range and witness the only known entranceway into Rujm el-Hiri, slipping through an open grand archway of stone into one of the dolmen that surround the site. A low thrum echoes throughout the solemn chamber. It sounds like a chorus, sung from an ancient language most should not know. Yet, an echo of meaning emanates at the back of your mind, as if your subconscious curiously understands it, intuitively: 'Seeker of the Key, The solitude of the stone-sea Protects Her from human vanity. Couched in steel, so late the pyres. The starless sky holds no applause.' A pedestal of stone rings sits atop the altar, mirroring the structure of the Ruin proper: a series of enormous concentric ring passages. The true path forward would only be permitted by discovering the trick to these rings. =Dungeon Conditions: Stupify==================================================
<Pose Tracker> Cyre H. Lorentz has posed.
Another day, another dungeon. This one, however, is... Different. This one doesn't draw Cyre's attention just for the excitement of exploring someplace new. This is a place known to the Baskar, spoken about in hushed tones and swathed in the haze of rumor and legend. It's a burial mound, they say. A place where the corpse of a civilization was laid to rest. Some say that you can still hear their whispers, if you turn your ear in the right direction.
And recently, very recently, someone managed to crack the front door.
So. Why not check it out?
Cyre, having grabbed PEOPLE OFF THE STREET for yet another adventure, makes his way into the ruin's central antechamber, a chorus of disembodied voices thrumming in the hollow of his skull. It's an unnerving sensation. That's a mild understatement.
But he has something to do.
"Looks like some kind of map," he says just above the din of the voices swirling in his brain. But how does one use it? Do they turn this way and that? Is it simply a rat-maze? Cyre's lips curl into a slight frown as he attempts to move the rings this way and that. Maybe...
Maybe there's a hint in the lyrics?
Something-something-4-2-5-7-2?
<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.
If there was ever a person that was easy enough to grab off the streets for a run into some ruins, it's Gwen, super courier.
She is also just finished cresting a particularly icky hangover, swigging from a canteen of water and wiping her mouth.
Suddenly, she's being whisked away on a magical, whimsical adventure, squinting against the hard sun. Well, it's not exactly *sudden*, but, as sobriety begins to allow Gwen to regain some iota of her usual self after its divine punishment, it sure feels like it's sudden.
And oh hey, Layna and Rudy are here too, that's good. She's massaging her temples right now, wondering if those strange words in her head are just some nasty after effect of whatever she drank, or, perhaps, some sort of sign cast down from the Baskar site itself.
"I'm... not good with riddles..." she remarks groggily, flicking her hat down so she can itch at her hair. "Maybe we need to light something up. Maybe, uh, reveal 'her' to us? Vanity's tied to sight, so if it's night, we can't see her unless we light the pyres, and the starless sky means a full moon, but it's not gonna help us, so we just need to light something."
DG: Gwen Whitlock has contributed a Wits Basic Action toward her party's challenge, The Yawning Gate of Non-Perception.
<Pose Tracker> Layna Manydays has posed.
Layna's worked with Cyre before. He seemed like a pleasant enough fellow, so when he showed up during one of her scouting missions. A very important one, she had to ensure that the alcohol of a certain establishment was of high-enough quality.
It was, for the record.
This wasn't her first time to the Singing Ruins. The last one had been difficult for...reasons...but she didn't see any of the specific problem individuals here, so for now, she was content to come along.
She glances toward Gwen as she makes her suggestion.
"That so...? Well..." Layna removes the telescope from her waist.
"Maybe we could focus some light through this, aye? Gotta be careful with it, though." She offers.
"Last time...we turned the rings, and hit a switch at the base. But maybe your suggestion has some merit to it, aye?"
DG: Layna Manydays has used her Tool Captain's Telescope toward her party's challenge, The Yawning Gate of Non-Perception.
<Pose Tracker> Rudy Roughnight has posed.
As everyone is talking, the young man known as Rudy Roughnight is here. He stands silent and calm, his brown eyes looking at everyone as they advance on their location. The talk of money is an easy lure for Rudy since the Battle of Adlehyde. To many, it likely seems selfish, and perhaps on some level it is, but not for the reason most thing. Instead, it's more the desire to see the city restored and for that, it will take a lot for the Adlehyde Restoration Fund.
Perhaps thoughts of the city keep Rudy from speaking for this whole trip. For Gwen, she already knows him to be quiet. For the other two, they will learn he speaks when needed can be friendly, if not removed and distant at times. So when the others begin to speak, it maybe a surprise for them to see that Rudy merely pulls out a device and presses a button. Looking into the device which seems as small as his hand, Roughnight hrms. He moves his feet slowly until they stand over something. He kicks aside some rubble, revealing a small chest. Maybe it has something someone much wiser than him can use. Maybe a stand to focus the light discussed earlier, maybe special torches or even just some heal berries to make the trip easier. Either way, regardless of what someone else opens and finds within the chest, Rudy silently puts the device away to move toward the rings, ready to use brute force to turn them into place if required.
DG: Rudy Roughnight has used his Tool Portable Radar toward his party's challenge, The Yawning Gate of Non-Perception. DG: Cyre H. Lorentz has contributed a Wits Basic Action toward his party's challenge, The Yawning Gate of Non-Perception. DG: The party led by Cyre H. Lorentz has failed this challenge! The party gained 2 exploration! If anyone needs to use party management commands, do so now. Otherwise, the next round's GM may begin the next round with +dungeon/draw. DG: Gwen Whitlock has drawn a new Challenge.
============<* CHALLENGE - The World-Stage of Intertwining Fates *>============= |Type: Exploration |Dungeon Ability: Combat |Challenge Rating: 1 | ---------------------------< Challenge Information: >--------------------------- An eerie room stands before you, looking much like a grand amplitheatre frozen in time. Curtains and tapestries whose weave have been ravaged by the sands of time once suggest a grand proscenium, upon which the illustration of ages past lay. The song yet continues to echo: Think 'Seeker of the Key, The faceless master calls. The Wheel's world-stage is set to play our fates. Will we one day be reborn?' Statues dressed in unsettling clothing, bizarre as they are nonsensical, stand firm, as if actors frozen forevermore in time. The exit to the antechamber is sealed. Before long, however, you spot a few black butterflies that sail through the air and descend into the statues. They unsettlingly hunch over, as if their spines were broken, and begin limping towards you. They are armed with strange prop-weapons, but they look far too real for this to be any mock duel... =Dungeon Conditions: Injure===================================================
<Pose Tracker> Cyre H. Lorentz has posed.
Gwen and Rudy are two new faces. Well, kind of. Cyre has probably seen them both coming in and out of the Starfall Saloon during his stay in Adlehyde, but like some kind of mysterious drifter with a distinctly unique sprite and associated portrait, he's been thus far uninteractable. Except for Layna. Cyre knows Layna. They've been on adventures together. It's been great!
What has not been great: This puzzle.
"What, you just turn the thing until it clicks?" Cyre glances over his shoulder and just kind of... Shrugs? And tries at it? He and Rudy try at it. But no matter how much light is shed or how much they might tinker, the mechanism just does not seem to give way.
Until it does.
Several hours later.
"That," Cyre mutters quietly, "Was that really worth it? What did it even do?"
Answer: A nearby wall slides open to reveal a shortcut through the maze.
Prog...ress??
<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.
Now, onto the next challenge!
It's probably not clear what could potentially be more unsettling: the echoing song that manages to yield decipherable worlds, the once grand stage, or the statues, possibly echoing the actors that may have once graced this place with their performances?
Then there is the addition of the butterflies, easily missed by most eyes in the darkness of the theatre, each settling to rest on each.
The performance begins, and the actors assemble, lurching and stumbling over in ways that are uncannily life-life and mechanical, all at the same time. But this is no ordinary play, but a battle scene, and the party assembled have been cast as the enemy...
<Pose Tracker> Cyre H. Lorentz has posed.
Well, that sure is a whole host of dancing murder-statues. Cyre's nose wrankles subtly as the ancient stone grinds to life; of course there are murder-statues. Why wouldn't there be murder-statues? This is only the tomb of a centuries-old civilization left to grind away to dust over the countless aeons. It's only reasonable for it to be full of murder-statues.
Right.
Totally reasonable.
- |
Cyre's hands twist into claws. The stagnant air filling this place begins to churn and roil for the first time in hundreds of years. "There's something else here," Cyre mutters under his breath, his eyes squinting as he launches blade after blade of cutting wind downrange. Fengalon's claws care little for jade or stone; they cleave through everything in equal measure. "What is it... Where is it...?"
Butterflies?
They might just get torn to shreds by the whipping winds too.
DG: Cyre H. Lorentz has contributed a Combat Basic Action toward his party's challenge, The World-Stage of Intertwining Fates.
<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.
It would be all too easy for Gwen to ease into her usual relaxed, easy nature, but with Rudy here and the last few pulses of a hangover lingering in her head to remind her of the foolishness she was up to last night, Gwen instead tries to regain some measure of professional confidence. She'll start here by walking over to the unsettling statues, tapping on the hard surface of one of them. "Maybe these things are the things that need to be reborn?"
That confidence barely has a chance to assert itself as one of the statues Gwen walks over to examine comes to life, a prop sword managing to cut a red sliver into her cheek before she leaps back. "T-they're alive?!" She wipes at her cheek at the bead of blood beginning to collect there, then stumbles backwards to fall on her butt as the actor slices through the air again, catching it on her right ARM.
"T-that's way too strong to be fake, these things are real!" She forces herself onto her feet as the 'actor' disengages its sword from her arm. Punching forward with that same arm, she attempts to smash her fist into the thing's head, looking more than a little unsettled by the entire turn of events.
DG: Gwen Whitlock has contributed a Combat Basic Action toward her party's challenge, The World-Stage of Intertwining Fates.
<Pose Tracker> Rudy Roughnight has posed.
While it takes a bit of hard work twisting the rings, it finally works out and Rudy advances with the rest of the party toward the next area. He again sticks to the back, his attention to everything but those gathered, as if ready for an ambush at any time. However, when the source of possible danger is butterflies, Roughnight merely arches a brow, clearly anticipating that it won't be much of a problem. But then the statues come to life. As Cyre moves to attack, Rudy does as well.
Before the fateful first encounter with Metal Demons, the outcast was wary of bringing out his ARM, understanding there might be fear and judgment as a result of his actions. However, it's clear from many that he has the ancient weapon, so he decides that until given a true reason not to, he'll whip out his Hand Cannon as required.
Seeing the attack on Whitlock, the one person he knows here, the boy with the brown hair shows his defensive nature as he moves to her side. "Are you alright?" In the wake of his question, the large handgun/small rifle is leveled straight for a statue's head and with a powerful shot, Roughnight attempts to rip it off completely.
DG: Rudy Roughnight has contributed a Combat Basic Action toward his party's challenge, The World-Stage of Intertwining Fates.
<Pose Tracker> Layna Manydays has posed.
At some point, Layna had decided she'd done all she could do. So, she could now be found leaning up against one of the walls, hat pulled over her eyes.
The infamous captain of the Ruby Empress wouldn't be found guilty of sleeping on the job, would she?
...Probably? Hopefully? ...No, she probably would.
The grinding of stone reaches her ears and she raises her hat with one hand.
"Ah, you figured it out! Excellent!" She says with a grin, then moves to accept her telescope back from whoever had it last.
In the next room...she sees a familiar set-up. Layna's seen these statues before.
"Aye, lass. Watch you don't lose your head." She comments with a nod towards Gwen. The others seem to be handling offense well enough, so Layna focuses on defense. She draws out her bladed gauntlets, and prepares to move in to intercept attacks for anyone who might be about to take one.
DG: Layna Manydays has contributed a Combat Basic Action toward her party's challenge, The World-Stage of Intertwining Fates. DG: The party led by Cyre H. Lorentz has failed this challenge! The party gained 17 exploration! If anyone needs to use party management commands, do so now. Otherwise, the next round's GM may begin the next round with +dungeon/draw.
<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.
Winds from Cyre's magic draw the thick, dusty, tattered curtains apart and throw the statues off balance, allowing Gwen, Rudy, and Layna to take on the frustrated echoes of tragedies and comedies long past.
The curtains seem to unlock something as the few black butterflies fall from their perches. Something unclicks, and a scattered cloud of black butterflies comes from an unsealing cove over the heads of the party assembled, fluttering past them into the very door they came towards the weak light just beyond.
The tattered wings fall amid the fallen bodies of the strange humanoid statues, scattering as the party, marked by those statues's frustrated performances, walk past.
DG: Cyre H. Lorentz has drawn a new Challenge.
=============<* CHALLENGE - The Drowning Chamber of the Mother *>============= |Type: Exploration |Dungeon Ability: Agility |Challenge Rating: 1 | --------------------------< Challenge Information: >-------------------------- The song echoes, dimly hushed by the errant stream of water that must come from an underground aquifer somewhere. The water flows from the vase of a statue depicting a well-dressed woman, in a robe with many pleats and folded clothes, her expression enigmatic and silent. 'Seeker of the Key, Embrace it all, like a holy mother. Upon an innocent face, will the Moon smile in jest. We are but harlequins on puppet-wire.' The entrance to the next chamber is deep beneath the water, and there appears to be no visible contraption to control the water. Is there a hidden hint within the chorus of the past, or is it just pertaining to some archaic ritual that has far exceeded its relevance? =Dungeon Conditions: Slow=====================================================
<Pose Tracker> Cyre H. Lorentz has posed.
You know what else isn't great?
Sword to the shoulder.
Cyre growls as he slathers a strange, green poultice across his fresh wound. Blood drips down his arm as the party moves past the terrible hall of roving statues and into...
The water dungeon.
This place is some kind of fresh hell.
"Nnng. What are those words even saying...?" Cyre mutters, rubbing at his skull. No, the last time that they tried listening to that thing, it... Went poorly. Several hours poorly. Cyre rubs harder; hopefully this time Layna won't fall asleep. Because this time... This time they're going for a swim.
Sort of.
"Alright, here's the plan," Cyre says, unfolding a GIANT LEATHER SHEET. He sort of tucks it in and ties it at one end, creating what appears to be a giant leather bathysphere.
And then he stands inside it.
"Everyone aboard. I'm going straight for the next door."
And then, once everyone steps in, he immediately starts spamming ALL THE WIND SPELLS, filling the sheet with dense air.
And then he starts moving into the water.
COME ON LADS, LET'S GET A MOVE ON.
DG: Cyre H. Lorentz has used his Tool Reverse Parachute toward his party's challenge, The Drowning Chamber of the Mother.
<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.
"Thanks, that was a close one." Gwen daps a finger at the cut on her cheek, and grins at Rudy. "One of these days I'll get you back." Then, Layna's pun, unintentional or not, hits the courier. She groans. "Aughhhhh, no puns, no puns."
Gwen is a professional.
"Um."
Gwen looks around, grey-blue eyes ticking around the room, looking for a possible exit.
"...Hm."
She looks to the water.
"Mmh."
She looks to her right ARM.
"Guys, um. I'm gonna, sorta, uh, need some help here. I, um." She sheepishly shrugs...
As Cyre pretty much bypasses the need to admit to a real key deficit in Gwen's education as an all-terrain Drifter. "Okay! C'mon, let's get under the leather balloon, guys!" She doesn't ask; she just slips underneath the leather sheet, and, when it starts moving, she begins to wonder something.
"How will we see where we're going in this?"
<Pose Tracker> Rudy Roughnight has posed.
As Layna offers her joke and Gwen talks of puns, Rudy merely blinks as if they were speaking some sort of alien language. He doesn't comment on it in the moment beause well, the distraction causes him to almost get cleaved in two. Once the group moves past the battle with the statues, with Rudy's back slightly bleeding from an errant attack that got too close, the young man merely blinks to see the statue, the water, and the expectation that this is some sort of riddle. A slow frown appears on his face, uncertain for exactly how he should proceed. Still.
Thankfully, it seems Cyre has a plan, even as Gwen talks of issues swimming. "You'll be fine," he states with confidence, even as he leaps after group and gets into his appropraite place within the makeshift diving bell.
DG: Rudy Roughnight has contributed a Agility Basic Action toward his party's challenge, The Drowning Chamber of the Mother.
<Pose Tracker> Layna Manydays has posed.
The statues are dealt with...after a time. It wasn't an easy battle, and Layna's looking a little roughed up afterward from all the hits she took for the others. Some even managed to get through her guard to the others, as well...
...But at least they all made it out alive, more or less!
And the next room...is water. Her element.
Okay, well, technically her element was wind, but as a pirate she is very familiar and comfortable with water - going across or diving into. So, for that reason, she remains outside Cyre's makeshift bubble.
"It's okay, lass!" She calls back over the sound of Cyre's wind. "I'll make sure to keep you lot on course, aye!?" She shouts, then jumps into the water and propels herself forward rather quickly. She'll be more than a little drenched and short of breath afterwards, but this was nothing to a fearless pirate!
DG: Layna Manydays has contributed a Agility Basic Action toward her party's challenge, The Drowning Chamber of the Mother. DG: Gwen Whitlock has contributed a Agility Basic Action toward her party's challenge, The Drowning Chamber of the Mother. DG: The party led by Cyre H. Lorentz has passed this challenge! The party gained 22 exploration! If anyone needs to use party management commands, do so now. Otherwise, the next round's GM may begin the next round with +dungeon/draw.
<Pose Tracker> Cyre H. Lorentz has posed.
Fuck riddles, we have tools. Like CIVILIZED FOLK.
Cyre's ramshackle solution to this particular puzzle seems to go off without a hitch. Well. Mostly. Except that Gwen almost drowns when a jet of water shoots up from underneath them and catches her in the face, but otherwise, with Layna's expert guidance, the party makes it to the exit before they all run out of air and suffocate! Hooray!
"That could have been worse," Cyre says, wringing spare moisture from his parachute. He seems mostly dry! And happy to be dry.
Cats don't like being wet, after all.
DG: Rudy Roughnight has drawn a new Challenge.
=======<* CHALLENGE - The Forbidden Library of Conscious Nothingness *>======= |Type: Exploration |Dungeon Ability: Wits |Challenge Rating: 2 | --------------------------< Challenge Information: >-------------------------- The song leads you into an underground chamber, perhaps once arrayed like a library, now nothing more than a maddening stanza of spiralling stairs and labyrinthine passages that cast a shallow glance into this once-proud repository of knowledge. 'Seeker of the Key, Seek not to know. I once sought to Know, in the hour of my sleep. The Wheel has left us ignorance as a solace.' Somewhere, someplace, there is a passage forward, but did the inhabitants of this place become intertwined in their hubris as they gazed deep into knowledge? Or did they array their knowledge into a futile guard to push against what was not meant to be known? =Dungeon Conditions: Overwhelm================================================
<Pose Tracker> Cyre H. Lorentz has posed.
Cyre stares into the labyrinth of passageways and staircases. His eye twitches ever so slightly. He takes in a long, tired breath and runs his hands throgh his hair. His hood flops back, revealing a set of agitated, twitching ears. "Well," he says after a moment of deep self-loathing and a spell of cursing the fate that drew him to this place. He sighs, plucking a... Ball of yarn from one of his pockets.
Why does he have a ball of yarn?
Do not ask the things whose answers you do not want to know.
"Let's get started, I guess."
He begins moving through the corridors, leaving a trail of unspooling thread in his wake.
Why did the ancients ever need a place like this? To keep all their knowledge? To store their libraries of tablets and tomes? Or is this just some kind of horrible practical joke?
Beat.
Well.
He's just going to keep going left until he finds a way out.
DG: Cyre H. Lorentz has contributed a Wits Basic Action toward his party's challenge, The Forbidden Library of Conscious Nothingness.
<Pose Tracker> Rudy Roughnight has posed.
As the underwater escapades draws to a close, the group surfaces to find that there is something that was once a great library. And like most great ancient libraries, it is daunting, large, and seemingly without any signs to show where the Young Adult section is... Which is really sad for people who wanted to read that classic piece 'Farewell to ARMs'. The pathways seem to wind and turn, their unintuitive nature making it difficult to navigate with transitional means. It seems the traditional 'just to the right until you get out' just might work, but with how large this place is, dying of starvation or needing to retreat may occur before the group gets to the other side. Not unless they have a good game plan moving forward.
<Pose Tracker> Rudy Roughnight has posed.
Again, it seems that Cyre has an answer for the dungeon and for the time being, Roughnight is content to follow. After all, while the dig is already starting to show wear and tear on people, there is still a bit more to go and the teen is far from a quitter from those that know him. As the trail is forged, Rudy merely pulls out the radar device once more, offering a simple "Might want to go that way" he offers calmly as he suggest another pathway. He doesn't insist however, as for the time being, it doesn't seem to be a life or death thing which way they take for the maze.
DG: Rudy Roughnight has used his Tool Portable Radar toward his party's challenge, The Forbidden Library of Conscious Nothingness.
<Pose Tracker> Layna Manydays has posed.
Layna is kind enough not to question why Cyre carries a ball of yarn with him. It was probably just because he really liked knitting, right? And not for being a victim of those desires that plagued all felines, humanoid or otherwise.
She doesn't really have any ways of helping them here. Maneuvering around inside large buildings isn't actually a specialty of hers, after all. She's used to ships and the sea, after all.
But what she can do...
"Well, while we're walking...how's about a nice shanty to kill time, aye? I think I've got the perfect one for this situation..." Layna says with a grin, looking around to her allies.
If she isn't stopped, she'll break into a surprisingly relevant song in an attempt to keep everyone's morale up.
Unfortunately, the lyrics will have to be left up to the individual's imagination.
DG: Layna Manydays has contributed a Wits Basic Action toward her party's challenge, The Forbidden Library of Conscious Nothingness.
<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.
Cyre's plan was a success, more or less. Gwen did, despite gaining a boost of determination by Rudy's confidence in her and the knowledge of Layna's pirate skillz, sputter and flail momentarily when she lost her grip, But they manage, despite her failure at figuring out how water exactly works.
And now...
Gwen's beginning to wish for the simple days of water puzzles and deadly statues, because they've been walking around in circles, it almost seems like. Gwen, out of curiosity, tries to pry a book out of the wall, but finds that particularly shelf too tightly packed. Finally yanking a tome free, she opens it to a random page and reads-
It takes Rudy's words and Layna's singing to break her out of the strange fog in her mind that was beginning to form, like a reverse nautilus shell spiraling further and further in on itself.
"... Uh." She places the book back and rubs her face, unsure if that was simply her or the madness of the labyrinthine hallways. She can't even remember what she read.
There is only one thing Gwen really knows, and that's Rudy's in front of her, and he's bleeding, most likely from when he came to her aid. Her cheek still smarts, too, but not as much as the pang of guilt forming in her stomach. "Lemme get everyone patched up here. This place is gonna make my brain go numb if I don't do somethin'!"
DG: Gwen Whitlock has used her Tool Medical Kit toward her party's challenge, The Forbidden Library of Conscious Nothingness. DG: The party led by Cyre H. Lorentz has passed this challenge! The party gained 16 exploration! If anyone needs to use party management commands, do so now. Otherwise, the next round's GM may begin the next round with +dungeon/draw.
<Pose Tracker> Rudy Roughnight has posed.
It takes some time, but thanks to the yarn from Cyre allowing he people to fall back when they need when wrong turns were taken and a song to pass the time and help focus the mind. As Gwen treats Rudy's wounds as well as looks over everyone else, they have the strength to carry on and soon they make their way into another room. Whatever feelings that might have been pushed by that room soon fade, as they never existed in the first place. While the drain of the maze and the challenges before them possible begin to tire the party, they move foward, drawing every closer to their goal.
DG: Gwen Whitlock has drawn a new Challenge.
========<* CHALLENGE - The Great Antechamber of Lives that Never Were *>======== |Type: Exploration |Dungeon Ability: Brute |Challenge Rating: 1 | ---------------------------< Challenge Information: >--------------------------- You've descended onto a great ring-chamber in the dungeon, which moves with an unsettling precision not usually afforded to ancient Ruin gimmicks. The song seems especially audible here, perhaps owing to its origins upon the great Wheel: 'Seeker of the Key, Ponder not on the Scheme of Things. The works of the Wheel are not meant for hours calm. Thy life is long. Eternity is short.' A flash of passageways are before you, and there is a great stone wheel that could be manipulated to slow the movement of the ring that you're standing upon... a very heavy stone wheel, at that. =Dungeon Conditions: Tire=====================================================
<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.
"Augh, these song lyrics are driving me nuts..." Gwen rakes a hand through her short hair in frustration as they enter into the next area. "Now what is it..."
It's... like a clock, almost, only on a scale and using parts that would be beyond most civilizations Gwen would know of. It'd be an utterly fascinating word of art, if not for the fact that they're staring at moving passages flashing by, too quick to enter. The redhead is forced to look away to avoiding tempting a case of nausea. Her eyes then spot a grand stone wheel then.
Ah, this is something she can handle!
"Hold on. Let's see if maybe, if I can turn this thing..." Gwen moves to the wheel and, gripping onto it with both hands, exerts herself to try to turn it. "Ngh... I... think I'll need some help, this is heavy!"
Poor Cyre may not realize that, for Gwen to say something is heavy, it's something very, *very* heavy.
DG: Gwen Whitlock has used her Tool Armored Fist toward her party's challenge, The Great Antechamber of Lives that Never Were.
<Pose Tracker> Cyre H. Lorentz has posed.
Of course Cyre just likes to knit. Why else would he carry around a ball of yarn? Just to bat around in his spare time when nobody's around to notice? Hahahahaha how silly. That's silly. You're silly.
...
Moving on.
The party enters a great chamber filled with mechanisms that twist at the mind deceive the senses. Cyre rubs tiredly at his eyes, casting away the stars flashing and sparking across them. Gotta stay focused. Gotta find a way to slow things down.
Gwen has an idea. Cyre looks at her approvingly, but then shrugs, "Sorry. I'm pretty noodly, but I do have something that can help." His noodle-arms reach into his cloak and extract a brassy censer. With a quick strike of a match, the thing begins emitting a strong, heady aroma-- like a mixture of mint and sandlewood and a whole host of other fragrances that... Bolster the body, clear the mind, and sooth the soul. Is this an ancient Baskar Secret!?
Or does Cyre just know the drugs that make you feel good?
...Both??
DG: Cyre H. Lorentz has used his Tool Invigorating Vapors toward his party's challenge, The Great Antechamber of Lives that Never Were.
<Pose Tracker> Layna Manydays has posed.
Layna can only keep the chain of shanties going for so long without reusing any. But fortunately, the beauty of pirate shanties is that they're often intended to be sung while working or drunk, so remembering the exact words is not entirely necessary. It is entirely possible that she sang the exact same song twice but with different wording, but she didn't realize it.
This is what happens when no one stops a pirate when she suggests they sing.
Awaiting them next is a wheel. But not just any wheel - a giant, stone wheel that even Gwen thinks is pretty heavy.
That was...a really heavy wheel, then.
Layna reaches into her coat and pulls out a bottle of liquid. Her throat was pretty sore after all that singing, so she needs a drink.
"Anyone else want some?" She offers, gesturing to the others with the bottle.
She also refrains from pushing the wheel, figuring she was probably more likely to just get into the way. It also seemed too heavy for wind to have any real effect on it.
DG: Layna Manydays has used her Tool Quartermaster's Stash toward her party's challenge, The Great Antechamber of Lives that Never Were.
<Pose Tracker> Rudy Roughnight has posed.
As Gwen appears ready to push it a certain way, Rudy merely moves toward the intended path, noticing there are things that are in the way, chunks of rock or parts of the ruin that might make it harder for her. So he puts in a few small explosives to take them out, walking away as the explosions happen dramatically away from him.
Never look at the explosions, a wise man once told him.
That done, Rudy finds himself in front of Layna as she offers a drink. A shrug is given and Rudy takes a long pull. "Huh" he offers calmly. "That wasn't water. But thank you just the same." Rudy attempts to clear his throat as he tries to figure out what he just consumed before he moves to try and help Gwen, using his own ENTIRELY NORMAL AND AVERAGE strength to help her push. But with the funny smells and the not water, admitted Rudy is feel a little odd as he feels both more at ease but also with a sharper mind. Might be a good thing. Might not. ONLY TIME WILL TELL.
DG: Rudy Roughnight has used his Tool Excavation Charges toward his party's challenge, The Great Antechamber of Lives that Never Were. DG: The party led by Cyre H. Lorentz has passed this challenge! The party gained 27 exploration! If anyone needs to use party management commands, do so now. Otherwise, the next round's GM may begin the next round with +dungeon/draw. DG: Cyre H. Lorentz has drawn a new Challenge.
==============<* CHALLENGE - The Great Hall of Soul's Repose *>=============== |Type: Climax |Dungeon Ability: Combat |Challenge Rating: 2 | --------------------------< Challenge Information: >-------------------------- This great room bears the semblance of an ancient hall. Braziers, tapestries and shelving further suggest a residential purpose, complete with a great table that could house a feast for dozens. However, eeriest is is the uncomfortable stillness that permeates this otherwise huge chamber, as if the house has had its Time robbed from it: Poor, macabre imitations of citizens hang in place around the table, frozen in place. 'Seeker of the Key, Jewels of joy ensnare the sensous mind. Yet a tide has set from the Sea of Silence. Only when quietude has swept the cities clean, Shall the Wheel crumble into soot-ash.' A sickly, faint feeling permeates the air. The light fades, absorbed by the immanent black aura of a gigantic black butterfly ascending from the darkness below. It lets out an eerie, sorrowful noise, perching upon one of the macabre imitations... and the statue turns into no more than dust. Whether this creature is a guardian or an intruder to this time-stilled place is unknown: the only thing you know is that it is a dire threat to you. =Dungeon Conditions: Maim=====================================================
<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.
At the offer of Layna's drink, Gwen looks tempted, but ultimately abstains. "Nah. I... think I need to stay away for a while."
She'll never live down whatever she did to that poor, poor person. Wasn't her name Card... Cardia? No, Carde? Whatever.
She would like a bit of whatever Cyre's burning, though. "... You happen to sell some of that? I might... wanna buy some if you got some extra." Surely this other Baskar drug will not throw her for a loop like the previous Baskar drug!
"Oh hey," Gwen says as Rudy comes over to help. Well, he is great with combat, and can jump pretty damn far, but his frame's still that of a teenage boy. Could he really help push this heav- oh. Gwen blinks at Rudy, then, as always, merely accepts, grinning all the while. "You've got all sorts of talents!"
And so, with explosions (VIOLENCE), nice smells (DRUGS), and alcohol (NOT WATER), the WHEEL OF FATE TURNS just enough to allow them to get to the necessary passage. Surely, they can handle this one too, right?
<Pose Tracker> Cyre H. Lorentz has posed.
"Sell?" Cyre gives Gwen a look, then rubs at his chin as explosions go off and pirates get majorly crunk in the not-so-distance. Somehow this all culminates in a solution to the problem which ails them. And, more importantly, an idea! "Yyyyeah," Cyre says, narrowing his eyes. "Actually. I think I can probably... whip some up to sell. Hhhhuh. Maybe I should talk to Jack about that."
This can only go excellently.
Besides, this isn't THAT kind of Baskar Drug. Cyre saves those for SPECIAL OCCASIONS.
Like, for example, dealing with the psychological and metaphysical terror associated with the room they find themselves in next. To say it's chilling would do it a disservice. It's as if time itself has been slain. The world seems to be trapped in a state of sepia stagnation. Even the air in here feels as if it's been frozen in this one, singular place for aeons.
But not everything is so static.
A pair of enormous wings beat gracefully through the sterile air. A colossal butterfly alights upon a petrified figure perched in a great throne at the far end of the room. With a single, keening note, the statue turns to dust as if to say: 'look upon the fate of all men, great and small.' It's a promise, too. A promise that this, someday, will happen to--
A lance of wind blasts it off its perch.
"Nope." Cyre says, hand outstretched as his magic breathes life back into this place. "Not dealing with that philosophical bullshit today. Everyone pile on, we're sending this thing back where it came from."
DG: Cyre H. Lorentz has contributed a Combat Basic Action toward his party's challenge, The Great Hall of Soul's Repose.
<Pose Tracker> Layna Manydays has posed.
Layna grins as Rudy accepts some of her drink. It...definitely wasn't water. Fortunately, if there's any real drinking age in Filgaia it's not often observed, so Layna is in no danger of getting in legal trouble.
And besides, she was raised on this kind of stuff, anyway!
Fortunately, the wheel soon turns, and this, in turn, allows them to pass.
Beyond this was another familiar chamber, bearing a familiar foe.
Cyre...definitely has the right idea here. Layna recites an incantation, assailing the doom butterfly with a strong whirlwind in hopes of hampering its ability to fly properly. It was all she could do, until one of the more effective ranged attackers was able to clock some damage onto it.
DG: Layna Manydays has contributed a Combat Basic Action toward her party's challenge, The Great Hall of Soul's Repose.
<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.
It's beautiful. That's probably the worst part of the whole sight. She wants to walk up to it, take off her left glove, and run her fingers against a silken wing, even if she's certain it would probably crumble to dust at the very touch.
She had made her peace with death, once, at such an early age. No need to really think about the outside world, or her future. That was for other people. There'd just come a time when her heart wouldn't keep up with the rest of her.
That was fine.
Such a peace of mind is worth a king's ransom to some people, but she let go of it the moment she realized she had a future.
Wouldn't it be nice to not be afraid of that silence again? That's the question, posed to Gwen, if only by implication.
You wouldn't even know what happened.
Cyre's words sort of bring a much needed answer. "Y-yeah, let's do that! No time at all, right. Time to pull out the big guns!" Gwen replies, before quietly adding, "Or, uh, gun, in my case?" Slipping off her leather glove, Gwen stashes it in the pocket of her vest, then binds her sleeve up to the shoulder with her sleeve garter. "Sorry to whip this out at ya on our first meetin', Mr... Cyre?" She squints as she stretches out her metal ARM. "Right, uh, you seem like a decent fella that doesn't get too scared by a little thing like this. I'm still human n' all that, no worries, I just carry my ARM a bit differently."
It's kind of an understatement.
But right now Gwen just wants to yammer on and on as loud as she can to drown out the existential dread crowding at the corners of her mind, loading bullet after bullet at the gorgeous, deadly thing. It's no wonder she's sort of tearing up a bit.
She's just a little stressed out, is all.
DG: Gwen Whitlock has contributed a Combat Basic Action toward her party's challenge, The Great Hall of Soul's Repose.
<Pose Tracker> Rudy Roughnight has posed.
Only when quietude has swept the cities clean,
Shall the Wheel crumble into soot-ash.
The words dig into Rudy's mind. The horrors of the battle soon resurface, the smell of dead and dying replace the sweet aromas from Cyre and the taste of his own blood and sweat replace the sweet stock selection of Layna. Maybe the effects of the two previous things linger in Roughnight's mind, because the normally stoic boy shows a wider range of emotion now.
The left hand tightens into a fist as blue light gathers around Rudy's forearm. He switches out the cylinders on his weapon, going from smaller gunsmoke rounds to something much larger. The glow on the forearm brightens, Rudy pulling his arm up to expose it as the right hand closes up the Hand Cannon and spins it around once. Gwen is now not alone as she fires her weapon, an explosive Boosted Shell joining her own attack as well as that of the wind using partners. His teeth clean as he blue light gathers again in his forearm as he repeates process to fire a second shot, then a third.
He won't lose. Not this time.
DG: Rudy Roughnight has contributed a Combat Basic Action toward his party's challenge, The Great Hall of Soul's Repose. DG: The party led by Cyre H. Lorentz has failed this challenge! The party gained 0 exploration! If anyone needs to use party management commands, do so now. Otherwise, the next round's GM may begin the next round with +dungeon/draw. DG: Cyre H. Lorentz has drawn a new Challenge.
===========<* CHALLENGE - The Eternal Vigil over Imminent Cycles *>=========== |Type: Final |Dungeon Ability: Wits |Challenge Rating: 1 | --------------------------< Challenge Information: >-------------------------- A forlorn chamber of great size awaits past the great hall, its size fit for giants rather than humans. A massive stone throne is affixed upon the centre of the darkened chamber, bearing numerous effigies and fetishes of worship in ages past. Perhaps, it is the seat of the watcher of an eternal vigil. The song has reached its peak here, and is more audible than ever before. Those with particularly magical or spiritual natures can feel the powerful ebb and flow of its chant. 'Seeker of the Key, Gaze thee upon the Ark of Ge Ramtos, Her sails wrought of the ashes of hope. Her heart is but olden dreams once dreamt by time. The Guardian's lament has made her tall, Charged of deathly innocence, rowed forth by people's fantasies. Her Eyes gaze ever eternal, upon the Princes of Old, The People who have Never Been...' A large altar stands before the giant stone throne, possessing lightly shimmering runes that seem to echo with lilting notes not altogether dissimilar to the chorus. Perhaps, it is finally time to sing back to the chorus... =Dungeon Conditions: Tire=====================================================
<Pose Tracker> Cyre H. Lorentz has posed.
"I don't care if your arm is an actual ARM or whatever," Cyre answers Gwen as he weaves another spell, "As long as it works, and it's not pointed at any of us, you're fine in my book! Stay focused!" But it won't work. Death is inexorable. It's the end that comes to all things; the terrible spectre that waits at the inevitable extinction of life. To deny it, to reject it, is futile. It will come whether acknowledged or not. The butterfly is sent reeling by gusts of wind and blasts of ARM both literal and not. But no matter how many chunks are taken out of its wings, or how thoroughly it's blasted to and fro, the creature rises unperturbed. "Damnit," Cyre growls, his LOOT DENIED. "This isn't working. Get around it for now! Someone find an exit!"
Someone finds an exit.
They find an exit... Into what looks to be a throne room. The high seat of the king of this place; or perhaps its high priest. Or maybe it's not a chair meant for any mortal to use, but for something else. Something more.
Ge Ramtos
"Of course--" Cyre gasps, his breath coming ragged and worn as he staggers into the room. "That's what this all was. The Guardian of Death--" His voice comes as rasps as he makes his way to the altar, the ebb and flow of that terrible spiritual presence seeming to weigh down upon his very soul. "Ge Ramtos. This is his temple. This place..."
He squeezes his hand around something under his cloak.
A whirling gust of wind seems to flood out from him. Cyre gasps with ragged lungs as he suddenly lurches upright. "Sing," he says, then. "We need to sing."
But do they repeat? Do they sing praises of death- of the silence of death, and the end that comes with the crumbling of the wheel, or...
Something else?
Cyre takes in a breath.
'And so we sing the song of Dawn
No Key awaits no door bars our path.
The storm stirs to sweep clean the dust
And heal the heart and cleanse the soul
Laments soothed in the world's calming breath.
'Neath the scattered dust, a new wheel turns
And We who Are so sing--
--The song of life and dream to begin anew
For Death is nothing to those who have never been.
So rest their arms, be still their oars.
Your barque is carried forth by the rising Wind!'
DG: Cyre H. Lorentz has contributed a Wits Basic Action toward his party's challenge, The Eternal Vigil over Imminent Cycles.
<Pose Tracker> Rudy Roughnight has posed.
Rudy has to likely be pulled away, merely reloading his normal rounds back into his gun once he's out of Boosted Shells. A couple of bullets clatter to the ground in the wake of the retreat. As he follows the rest of the party, his attention is toward Layna. Brown eyes take her in, not appraising her pirate wiles, though she has them, but rather her fatigue. "We'll get you through this," comes the gentle yet confident response from the young man before he moves forward, the tears still having yet to dry on his cheeks.
Then the group finds themselves in a new room. And this is the Temple of Death? Rudy gives a frown at that, struggling with emotion again but there aren't any tears that fall as he processes what needs to be done. Instead of singing however, he merely pulls out a device the same one he used to find the chest. This time, he looks it over, using it to find yet another chest. This one is opened to reveal: A music box. Rudy knows his contribution. Calmly he winds it up and as if driven by fate, provides a gentle and slightly off beat accompaniment to Cyre and the rest.
DG: Rudy Roughnight has used his Tool Portable Radar toward his party's challenge, The Eternal Vigil over Imminent Cycles.
<Pose Tracker> Layna Manydays has posed.
Layna's eyes are on Gwen for a moment. She looked...shaken, and unnerved by something, perhaps? Maybe she was just stressed.
"It'll be alright, lass." She says, trying to offer her some kind of reassurance.
Unfortunately, the looming butterfly of doom meant that she could do little more than that. They're forced to retreat.
Surprisingly, she soon finds herself on the receiving end of some reassurance, and from an unlikely source - the quiet young man with the ARM. Somehow, he'd noticed - though she made efforts to hide it, she was starting to feel rather exhausted. She was used to hiding it from her crew - she had to maintain a strong image to keep them inspired. But...it seemed like he had seen right through it.
Layna chuckles gently.
"...Thanks, lad. I've not doubt." She replies.
Eventually, they find themselves before a throne...and, Cyre begins to sing.
Layna draws her telescope from her waist and uses it to scan the area, getting a good feel for its making and angles.
Once this is done, she starts an incantation...or so it seems. She weaves it into a song, matching Cyre but in her own fashion.
She'd never really done sorcery on this level before...but it felt appropriate for the situation. Hopefully this wouldn't blow up in her face.
Those sensitive to it would feel a steadily growing aura of power as Layna invokes Althena's Blessing...but would the wind she would eventually summon help them on their way, or only make things worse?
DG: Layna Manydays has used her Tool Captain's Telescope toward her party's challenge, The Eternal Vigil over Imminent Cycles.
<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.
Wouldn't it be good to go back to those days? The days of certainty, where the world had its borders, its safe fences. Do your best, help others, don't drag them down. Lie in the quiet dark of the hearth, away from the sun. Don't have to deal with things like growing up, with the hard complications of becoming an adult. Safety, innocence. Stay where you are, until your heart beats no more.
Gwen's ARM begins to slacken. She closes her eyes, and feels the wind whipping around her, tousling her pale red hair. Magic, of different natures, each just as foreign to her as the other, calling forth a force free from the earth. Then the whistling of a bullet from Rudy nearby, a strange blue glow on his hands causing the slight trail of tears on his cheeks to glint. She wasn't sure, when she chose to accept this ARM, if anyone would ever accept her, but now, with Cyre voicing his own bit of dark humor, that's four people in this room alone.
It would have been pretty sad if she had never gotten to meet the people she's met, wouldn't it? Even if she stumbled, made a fool of herself, did incredibly stupid things all in the name of seeing 'what would happen', it kept pulling her forward. She wants to keep seeing this world.
She'll face this butterfly someday, when she's a bit stronger, but for now- "Over here!" There's an exit. "Get to it, I'll try to cover you guys!"
As they rush into the next area, Gwen slows, looking to Layna and Cyre. Rudy seems to be doing well enough, and is making sure Layna is doing well. Moving over to help support the staggering Cyre, Gwen closes her eyes and breathes out a sigh of relief.
Even if she were to die here, she'd be with her friends.
Wait. No, that's not-
Sing.
"S-sing?" Gwen is taken aback at this, even as Cyre lurches upright, breathing in to let free his own reply.
The wind heeds Layna's call, and Rudy finds a music box. Timidly, Gwen begins to join in, her voice cracking with hesitation, but strengthening with resolve as she finds herself swept up with the song.
Her heart's strong enough to keep up with her spirit now. It's time to sing.
DG: Please provide a more specific Tool. [wites] DG: Gwen Whitlock has contributed a Wits Basic Action toward her party's challenge, The Eternal Vigil over Imminent Cycles. DG: You have overcome the dungeon's trials! This run is a success! DG: The party led by Cyre H. Lorentz has successfully explored Rujm el-Hiri!
====================<* CHALLENGE - Pottery of the Lost *>===================== |Type: Discovery |Dungeon Ability: Discovery |Challenge Rating: 1 | --------------------------< Challenge Information: >-------------------------- As you unseal the throne and descend past the open gateway, the overwhelmingly striking sight of a ruined city that's been lost to the ages catches your attention. A city of a civilisation lost long ago, consumed by hubris and inviting the frightening touch of the black butterfly... just what could have really happened here? You come across a small household, where there are several intact vases and pots from a bygone era. This will surely fetch a pretty price from archaeologists and historians alike, and valued by museums. Unfortunately, further access is impossible at the moment - more and more of those big, black butterflies patrol the area, and to fight such a great number of death-wielding monstrosities is, at best, folly. You'll need some other kind of tool or approach, and greater strength, to venture deeper into the lost city... =Dungeon Conditions: Treasure=================================================
<Pose Tracker> Cyre H. Lorentz has posed.
It is said that ever since its birth, the planet has been murmuring a song. Its voice played out over the firmament, and soon joined the chorus of the living spheres and the great gods of the stars. It is said that the song plays on even now. That all songs great and small, harmonious and dissonant are part of this great celestial chorus.
It is said that all things are songs.
The song rises to a din, bolstered by instrumental accompaniment courtesy of a quiet wanderer's music box. Three voices join in as one, filling the throne-chamber with a sound that has not heard a chorus like this one in all of its ancient years; this song is one of the heart, and those are ephemeral, temporary, but it is impossible to say they have never existed.
And so four travellers, three singers, with sorcerers of two worlds, sing one song. Perhaps it reaches Ge Ramtos' ears on whatever distant plane the Guardians reside. Perhaps another heard their words. Whatever the case, the wind stirs. It howls in harmony with their voices, it whistles through whatever lies hidden at the heart of this ancient chamber.
The throne slides away. A staircase leads deeper into the earth.
...And into a truly vast city.
How did it get here?
Who built it?
Why is it infested with butterflies?
These questions and more are... Not being answered today. Cyre stares with golden eyes at the enormous wings beating overhead. He hears, distantly, the wingbeats of the creature they escaped. With a sigh, he sinks against a nearby wall. "Well. At least we came this far," he says.
And then the wall gives way.
Aaaand he lands amidst a whole host of pottery.
"...Well," Cyre corrects himself, "At least there's one bright s-pot in all of this."
<Pose Tracker> Layna Manydays has posed.
Layna nearly collapses once her song is done and her spell is unleashed. She manages to stay standing, though, grinning at her allies...no, her friends.
"W-well...if this Drifting thing don't work out...we could always start a band, aye...?" She says with a winded chuckle.
Is it true...? Even in the narration, you can't escape the puns...!!
Layna is mercifully unaware of the horrors that just occurred, and proceeds onto the others into the ruined city. It's a tragic sight...but in her state, she's really in no condition to remark on the sadness of its destruction.
She does, however, gaze upon what looks to be a passageway forward...that just so happens to be filled with more doom butterflies.
"...I vote we don't go that way." She says.
And then Cyre falls into what is essentially a treasure trove.
Layna counts them up...and the sight of all of it gets a grin out of her.
"Well, well, well. Looks like there's an even amount here for each of us." She states.
At least they'd come out of this with something to show for it.
<Pose Tracker> Rudy Roughnight has posed.
In the wake of the final challenge, the vast city is revealed. For some, they would be keen to learn all they could on this place. For others, the loot would be sought after, or any sort of powerful items searched for. Rudy merely sighs. "Let me know when we're ready to go, if anyone needs a lift, please let me know." A glance is given to everyone with his calm and mostly emotionless tone. "It was a hard dig for everyone."
<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.
They survived.
Gwen almost feels delirious with glee at surviving, as well as singing. And Gulliver wasn't even there, the poor horse! SHe'll have to do a performance just for him. "Singing like that, really felt-"
When Cyre disappears through a wall into a room of various ceramics, Gwen runs over to check in on him-
He's fine.
Unfortunately.
In spite of it all, she begins to laugh, a snort making its way into there as she doubles over. It's a light-hearted, easy sound, so out of place in this city that has been silent for so long, save for the dragging of air on black insect wings.
She straightens, wiping a tear from her eye. "Well, I suppose we can always-"
She realizes Rudy is there. "-... take some of these pots and see if some university or somethin'll take them, but only if a proper donation is sent to Adlehyde's rebuilding. Rudy and I can share the lifting between us!"
There. She's now properly been a proper good influence on the younger Drifter.
She's done her job.