Quest Into the Deep

[Ink]

The grave marker was their portal into the darkest parts of the island, and Aelobius’s rings their invitation. The insufficient light from the moon above lasted only moments after the third set of boots entered the cavern. One of Wanda’s ghost closed the tomb above them.

Chimes more were wasted as the human eyes adjusted to the utter darkness, or rather lack of utter darkness. Human eyes never reach a proficiency in true dark, but down one tunnel there was a gentle steady glow. Strangely bluish green in color, when the part finally arrived to it they found mushrooms with domes as big as their faces. They were not alone although either, a number of monstrously sized spiders skittered away back into the dark as the interlopers neared their home. Something ran against the back of Pulren’s ankle like an affectionate cat, though nothing was visible.

The entire alcove in the chamber was filled with enormous and intricate webs. They drapped like curtains from the ceiling and guarded the mushrooms with their sticky threads. A tug more insistent than idle wind pulled at Fallon’s sash.

Upon stepping into the ephemeral glow, Keene’s vambrace arm grew impossible heavy. Too heavy for one man to hold. The source was both his ring and vambrace and both attempted to slip from his grasp. They grew heavier with every passing heartbeat, the two magical items would touch the ground with or without his flesh still attached.

[Fallon]

She barely had time to listen to the warnings and low chuckling on what a wailer was - before she was beckoned into the darkness. And with it came the chilling realisation of what she was going to go into, the yawning chasm into a tight, inky black abyss of nothing. No light, no warmth, just the cold chill and sensation that would smother the senses and choke the mind whole. Fallon did not realised she had clenched her fist, nor that there was the faintest trembles of a numbing leg.

But she did hear that whisper - a sweet rich panic, the clawing up of adrenal, the quickening of pulse. Pure, relentless fear ready to go into burst into flame.

Strength, for the most part, had failed her at first - limbs dead weight and refusing to move even as the other descended. She took them in, her eyes blinking after their shapes, sound having escaped her as she tried to comprehend how they could allow themselves to enter. And she had to follow them down. Her jaw clenched, and it was with the dipping down into her reserves and grasping upon the strands of will that she made her way after them into the darkness. Momentum was found, and with that she was capable to force herself onwards for the moment.

Not a sound escape, her voice for the most part had failed her - but those eyes peered on ahead, fingers flexing and clinking a nervous rhythm as she hammered her willpower into iron. And when the true darkness took over, did she simply blink and strained her eyes in the darkness and waited for them to adjust. Her head turned to one side as whatever lurking creature skittered off, the sticking sensation as her eyes laid upon the webs and for a moment left her wondering what other nightmares existed in Sahova's underbelly. A flick at the sash - no a pull - her gaze snapped downwards to view nothing, and then round to the walls.

Closing in. Smothering. Suffocating. Left to die within the darkness. In the silence.

It took her reserves just to keep her expression neutral, the orbs taking in the faint glow but for the most part leaving her blind to what was going on around her. She could not see, she could not feel. Fallon shook the thought away, and forced herself to take a deep breath. Level head, stay calm, she had no choice in this matter - panic would only result in a disaster. And so, she kept to silent attempted observation - for now.

[Keene Ward]

With the explanation of "wailers" given, the important looking nuits left, Mistress Wanda hobbling back into the mists. The information was useful, but as useful as it was, it didn't much prepare Keene anymore than he already was. If the creatures were shapeshifters, identifying them was going to prove difficult, nearly as difficult as not knowing anything about them to begin with. Their ability to kill with their voices was also a big vague. Screaming? It would make sense given what Keene assumed to be a name given based on the creature's abilities. How exactly screaming could kill, Keene wasn't sure, but if they were able to identify the things before they attacked - something Keene supposed was much more difficult than it sounded -, perhaps he wouldn't have to find out. As the groups started off, Keene led the two other Pulsers towards the grave where he an Atziri had emerged from. While not a natural born leader, the trident wielding Palaren had given Keene the go ahead to take point. It was certainly true he had a bit more experience on the island, but Keene as Keene jumped down into the grave, he had a sinking feeling it wasn't nearly as much as he would have liked.

Dirt rained down as the tomb head was replaced, sprinkling Keene's hair with tired earth that he brushed away, eyes blind in the darkness. He heard the others shift around behind him, their breathing incredibly loud in the otherwise dead silence of the shadows. With time, Keene was able to make out vague shapes, walls, floors, a few obstructions in the form of larger boulders or deposits of earth. Farther down, there was a gentle glow similar to the algae that had grown and bloomed around the docks of Zeltiva. Checking behind him to make certain the other two where in a state ready to move, he nodded. The gesture was obscured by the darkness, but the sound of his boots padding against the ground was more than enough to alert them he was going on ahead. It was slow going in the near-dark, and Keene had his fair share of stumbles. The tunnels were warm, warmer than the world above, and he'd already begun to start sweating. He supposed that the perspiration might have proved useful had the enemies they were chasing employed combat tactics similar to a wrestler, but the wailers seemed to be a bit less tangible. Thus, the sweat simply ran down the back of his neck and dripped from his nose, a useless liquid in the humid heat of the tunnels.

The closer they got to the glow, the easier it was to traverse the uneven ground. Keene hadn't really thought about the issue of having no light in the lightless tunnels he had just been introduced to only chimes before. Once they had descended, however, he had found his lack of control over fire to be an issue. As they turned the corner to reveal the source of the lights, large, spindly, hairy shapes skittered into the darkness. Keene felt an involuntary shiver ripple through his body as the sound of the soft tapping and shuffling of a number of legs chittered in the distance. The light came from massive mushrooms, their caps by far some of the largest he'd ever seen. They gave off a peaceful, though alien, glow that Keene was glad for. With the fungus, they would be able to traverse the caves, caverns and tunnels without the fear of constant blindness. The spider webs that seemed to protect them hung heavy and ominous above. Keene wasn't quite sure what to do about them. He was well aware of how the natural spider worked when a creature was caught in its web. From the shifting shadows and clicking rustles, Keene didn't feel confident in just knocking the threads down like common cobwebs. He was fairly certain their would be unpleasant retribution.

With three minds, however, there would perhaps be a better solution than what he could find with just one. Moving to turn to face the other two, Keene found the left side of his body wasn't responded quite right. The small step he had taken to shift his direction had felt heavy. Far too heavy for what he was wearing, and even heavier still with each moment. He gave the other two a confused knit of the brow before his arm, and the rest of his body, was slammed into the ground. He let out a startled, "Oof!" His arm, or better yet, his vambrace, had glued itself to the ground beneath him. As he struggled against the invisible force, Keene shifted around, adjusting his legs so that they served as cushions beneath him. He pushed against the ground with his free hand, but the vambrace remained steady on the ground. It was not just the vambrace, as he was slow to realize, but the ring as well. It had been a bit of a tight fit before, but Keene had not wanted to lose it. Now, however, it was very solidly part of the rock beneath him, and both it and the vambrace were not moving any time soon.

In the midst of his struggles, Keene had managed to knock against one of the lower hanging webs, ripples bouncing and shivering their way through the structure and off into the distance. The disturbance, however, was not notice by the young initiate as he shook his head at his companions. The effort to pull his arm from the ground wasn't working, and while he could have removed the vambrace, the ring was tightly stuck to his finger. He didn't want to run the risk of tearing the digit off, and the vambrace gave him a better chance of avoiding that. "...I'm stuck." His voice was unamused, but there was little else but the tone of one making an observation. He turned his attention to the strange, glowing mushrooms, an appraising frown on his face. Both the vambrace and the ring were bathed in the greenish blue of the fungus' light. For whatever reason, it seemed the things were affecting his keys in some way, though to what extent or how, he had no idea. "The mushrooms?"

[Pulren Marsh]

As quickly as the war bands had assembled, they now were splitting and departing for their missions. Sure, technically it was 'an investigation', but Wave Guards knew what that generally meant. The Maiden's Voyage had been an investigation and look where that had led. No, warriors were sent to war and as the trio descended into the earthen tomb, it was painfully stark where they were.

Surprisingly warm, the darkness was at first absolute, the sound of earthen stoneworks sliding shut from above. This was temporary, however, as a bluish tinge began to creep into his periphery. Once his eyes began to adjust, he could see that the light source was ahead, his shield up at chest height. The trident rested in his right hand, his grip firm. Eveyone was silent for the most part, their breaths the only sound for certain. This was the mark that his company was competent, as idle chatter could both alert enemies and muffle vital aural clues. He knew that Bitzer was capable and for a living human to live and practice on Sahova, Keene was surely self sufficient. This did not relax Pulren, but it allowed him to focus on imminent danger rather than be concerned for possible rookie mistakes.

The ground seemed solid enough, though each footfall was planted with care, the pace not headstrong in any fashion. Soon the source of illumination became evident, the great fungi and their natural light opening the scene into something more clear, though it was not necessarily a sight he wanted to see. Webs hanging like heavy drapery over everything, the skittering of legs and unnaturally large arachnid bodies moving to and fro. A small but deep breath passed through Pulren, his awareness sharpening with the anticipation of battle. That was no damned cat that rubbed his leg, the trident responding by turning in his hand, the sharpened tines now pointing behind, his vision scanning over the area.

It made sense to ask the local tour guide of his opinion, so in a calm and quiet whisper, he called out to the Wizard. "Keene. Is any of this familiar to you?" Keene, however, was having a problem of his own as he seemed to fall or, more accurately, be pulled to the ground, affixed there by his hand and vambrace. Confused and further alerted, Pulren turned his body toward the rear and the way they had come, kneeling near the man. He reached down and held him by his bicep, partly to stabilize and also to pull him free once he could move. "Bitz, see if you can figure it out. I'll keep him safe." The shield arm lowered to cover Keene's hindquarters, the trident pointing out toward the inky darkness behind them. She was the superior mind at the moment, Pulren was strictly in defense mode.

[Ink]

There was quite certainly nothing at all behind Pulren! Or at least nothing perceptible, but sitting upon one of the toadstools beedy eyes watched them. When the spiders disappeared a raccoon had crawled out of the dark recesses behind the webs and stalks. In its grasp was a ring that it kept rotating and nibbling. Unfortunately, as was the usual on Sahova things rarely stayed as uncomplicated as nature intended. The little brown ball of fur spoke up, “I would’na touch them webs ya’know?” A decidedly Sunberthian accent of all things, here in the dark tunnels beneath the undead citadel.

It eyes scrutinized Keene with far too much intelligence. In the blink of an eye, the raccoon was gone. It reappeared, this time obviously incorporeal, swimming through the air, eye level with Fallon. “Ya’know, you could always just let go’er them items.” The ball of spectral fluff doggy-paddled around the woman, his gaze far more invasive than ocular organs had right to be. “Might be the mushrooms ya’know? Or not.” He blinked out of existence again.

Though no form reappeared, his strange little voice whispered in the silence just to the left of Pulren’s face. “Could just eat one and ya’d find out wouldn’t’ya?”

The raccoon reemerged from the nothing once more, upon the same toadstool with his little ghostly ring. He smacked it a few times on the fleshy top of the mushroom to no avail. Of course a mushroom couldn’t crack a ring, silly raccoon.

[Fallon]

It was the mumble of Keene that brought Fallon's attention back round to what was behind her. Her brow gave a narrow, watching the webbing thrum as the gentlest of brushes were given by him - she could almost imagine the scratching of spiders crawling their way up it, closing in, fangs rippling and hairs brushing. It was an image that in her mind belonged in a horror story so quickly she swallowed, pushing down the sickening sensation that rested in her gut and blinked through the gloom. Eyes strained, catching the outline of Keene and his crouched state on the floor, with Palaren next to him. It took her a moment to register what had caused him to be in such a position, and then her eyes looked finally down to the bracer. Fallon grimaced, her brow pinching before she watched the other Scar take up a more defensive stance in the situation - leaving the decision making solely to her for now.

"Great," She exhaled, a hissing breath as her jaw tightened and refused to move at first, "How stuck is stuck? Like, can you wriggle or anything?" Stiffly she moved herself to gaze forward once more, looking to the faint glow of the mushrooms being the seemingly the first immediate source of this issue. She gave a tentative peer at them, eyeballing the webbing that covered them with suspicion and the way they dangled over them protectively. There must have been a reason for it, she considered, and it seemed apparent that pairing the mushrooms and their entrance. Her eyes turned again, flickering through the gloom to catch a glint of something different and then promptly froze. She released a mumble, "No one move."

And then the voice came forth. Her fingers twitched, watching and listening to the scrabbling steps as the speaker came forth. A ghostly racoon by all accounts. She gave a flinch when it came close in its inspection to her, eyes peering back and steeling to the gaze, her nostrils flaring as she forced herself in the simple act of standing her ground. Her lips gave a twitch, the whistling exhale as she relaxed as it pulled away. Fallon's mouth opened, closed, and opened again - failing on both occasions make a noise. Her mind gave a judder as to what this creature could exactly be, the mental files of information being poured out as to what it could be. And soon, her feeble excuse of a conclusion came forth.

"We have a talking ghost racoon," Fallon spoke dead pan, her mind struggling almost to accept this as fact. A snigger came forth, her shoulders trembling as she simply stared and watched, mind mentally recalling what was said, the subtle actions and the way it seemed to appear now with its timing. The clacking of the ghostly ring, the repetitive motion as it tried to break it upon its mushroom. Her gaze swept back down, across, then back to the racoon and finally returned to Keene and Palaren, "I have absolutely no idea what's going on any more. I know, mushrooms, who wants to be our unlucky tester? I vote, not it. And..." she looked at the Racoon then, "You want a hand with breaking that ring, Mr Coon?"

[Keene Ward]

As Keene lay appearing helpless on the ground, though entirely focused on the mushrooms over the state of his own entrapment, Palaran moved around to guard him. It was something the man seemed to instinctively do, giving Keene a small amount of confidence in their little group of three. If the others knew how to fight, it made his job much easier. His combat skills were hardly fine tuned, but as a secondary target, it would allow him to the time and focus to quickly dispatch any hostile creatures or "screamers" that came their way. Of course, that was only assuming he could separate himself from the ground first. Which, as he wiggled his arm against the attractive force between leather and stone, Keene found was going to be a bit more of a difficult venture than he would have liked. As Bitzer inquired as to just how stuck he was, Keene replied with a terse, "I can 'wiggle'." Shortly after his reply, the woman hissed out an order for stillness, to which Keene responded by promptly halting his struggles.

Whatever she had seen began to speak, and it as in a manner that was oddly familiar. The accent was similar to Boswell's, though different in the sense that it was its own voice. Shortly after, Keene's eyes rested on a spectral creature, furred with a ringed tail and a mask of fur hardly obscuring it's piercing gaze. It was a curious beast, flitting and floating about the cave as its lilted speech offered advice that was a bit too cryptic for Keene's liking. He was too far away from the mushroom to reach it to grab a piece and pop it into his mouth as the furred beast had suggested, and by the stillness of the other two around him, he doubted they were too keen on the creature's suggestion. Bitzer spoke then, calling the beast a "raccoon". Keene had read several poems in which raccoons were typically depicted as mischief makers, though he had pictured them with less hair and more impish grin. Still, it wasn't entirely far off from his idea, and he was able to place the name with the face, even if it were a more... ghastly sort of animal than he had at first envisioned. The little furtive motions it employed to drift from one place to the next made it seem all the more unreal. As it situated itself on the mushroom nearest Keene to beat the ring against the perceived soft flesh of the cap, Bitzer seemed to find the situation entertaining.

The woman called for a vote, and Keene had little issue making his own decision. "Get me a piece, and I'll eat it." The island was dangerous, certainly, but it was no more dangerous than being plastered to the ground in the murky tunnels beneath the earth with only a limited amount of djed to manipulate to protect himself. If the mushroom might release him from his stasis, he was willing to give it a try. Exteneding an arm at the raccoon, Keene gave it a few short waves before dropping it to the ground again. The way his vambraced arm was stuck to the floor, he could not approach the mushrooms any closer without dislocating his shoulder or worse. Of course, he would and shuffled around the ground to reach it with his legs, but the raccoon had already stated knocking the webs was unwise. While there seemed to be the general consensus that eating the mushrooms was a potentially terrible idea, there was an unspoken agreement that the webs were best left alone. Turning to stare at Palaren with an unamused line of his lips, Keene offered him a request, his voice a bit muffled by the awkward position of his body. "Would you?" For the time being, he decided to let Bitzer deal with the uninvited guest. It made him uncomfortable.

[Pulren Marsh]

Not a peep from the rear. Of course, there wouldn't be a peep anyway, would there? Oversized spiders probably made a clicking sound or a scratching, not a peep. The imminent danger aside, Pulren rose from his crouching defense, taking the time to observe the tunnel. Not much to see, the only light coming from the strange azure fungi around them.

His shield and trident rose when Bitzer's order came. Vision sharpened on the small light that looked different from the other light. It was easier to see it with the only light source being the grainy blue of the mushrooms. Everything else illuminated was pretty obvious to the guard. What came next made Bitzer laugh and Pulren shrug, the prone Sahovan now an afterthought on the floor of the cavernous tunnel. "You're surprised by this?" He half said it to the boss, half said it just to smooth over the reality a little. When you are in a dark tunnel on a dead island and a flying ghost raccoon tells you that you should be eating mushrooms, saying something is better than saying nothing.

The disembodied voice told him that eating the mushrooms might help. Maybe it would help. Looking down, it was clear the Wizard wasn't going to magic himself free. The leader of the bunch was not going to jump in. How would they continue? Someone clearly had to eat a mushroom and of the three, Pulren was the clearest choice. He had survived Dira's perusal at least twice and why wouldn't he survive now? Those little black, hollow places where eyes would go, they knew the score down here. Pulren nodded in agreement with himself about it, looking at his leader for an answer. Anything? Nothing. What about the Wizard?

Looking down again, he could see that Keene wanted something. The mushroom. Of course! Nodding at him, Pulren walked over and picked up one of the smaller mushrooms, its glow clear and pervasive, as if its light would seep into his pores and illuminate his insides. Then he could be of use, more than a common guard and shieldbearer. "Sure, Keene. I'm happy to help." Just like that, the spongy crunch of the mushroom could be heard as Pulren was ingesting the fungus. If anyone was surprised by this action, it wasn't him. He just smiled and swallowed.

[Ink]

The spectral animal never looked away from its diversion, "No." It answered before resuming.

Several

Chimes

Passed…

The raccoon kept smashing his ring. Pulren munched, Fallon Fretted, and Keene knelt. Slowly like the dripping liquid from the stalactites, a quiet voice murmured where only Pulren could hear it. “That kid, Keene… those items are magic.” The voice sounded in dulcet tones like the thresh of silk against skin. “If you sold them on the mainland you would be wealthier than you had ever dared to dream.” Nothing else the voice said was comprehensionable, it was on a more visceral level that the ideas pushed him. Desire, protection, warmth all of these ideas were pushed against Pulren’s psyche. All that could be if only the ring and vambrace were his.

As the whispers worked on Pulren, a number of more audible noises came to fruition. The spiders were losing their temerity, or so it seemed. Scratching and clicking were beginning to echo back towards the little cavern. The air had not actually grown warmer but had begun to make the humans sweat beneath the stagnating heat and stale air. The creatures eventually stepped forward out of the far shadows. They weren’t true spiders in the least, although certainly originated as arachnids before entering the Sahovan labs. Their bodies were four or five segments longer than spider, covered in dense mossy fur. Uncountable legs never stopped moving or twitching to let the victims come to a census. The worst part? There were four of them. Sliding across each other’s bodies like snakes they moved towards Keene, the most obvious prey. On each two front legs sported man-made weapons, no hands but the materials had been fused into their flesh.

The first creature to reach Keene rubbed its furry arms above him, dusting him in the fur follicles. Three others raced over their comrade bumping passed Keene and went at Fallon with their mutant weapons.

And the Raccoon just kept bouncing the ring on the mushroom.

[Fallon]

"Right, well... Okay then," Her head snapped around to hear the ending of Keene's statement, her eye brow raising at him as he made a reach for one of the mushrooms. Her eyelid gave a twitch, her jaw going slack as he requested a piece from Pulren. He was going to eat it? Willingly?

And then Fallon's eyes slid over to Pulren, her head shaking violently from side to side as if to somehow halt him from the action. It was stupid, it was careless and reckless, no doubt getting them inevitably into more trouble than what was worth. And Keene was a warden, he should have known better than to randomly pick up various pieces of potentially poisonous mushroom. And then, the day as Fallon had seen it - only got worse. Pulren took the mushroom, but much to her immediate horror did he turn and place the piece within his mouth. Her shoulders slumped, her jaw slackened, and it took the best part of several long ticks for her to formulate a reaction.

"You... you," Fallon pressed her gauntlet covered hand against her face and finally released a tense hiss, "Idiot. Zeltivans!" She raised her hands, flicking them up towards where the sky should be, before letting them slump back down once more, "You don't just pick things up and eat them off the floor, who knows what it could do to you. Could have at least let me..." She would have said 'Lykata it', but she felt the tensing air of the caverns began to close in around her, the heat rising up from the bodies and the sticking sensation. And then of course, there was that sound that rested somewhere just beyond the gloom to contend with.

Spiders was the closest thing she could imagine them to, the glow stroking against the fur and the clicking trembling out from between their jaws. She stiffened, fingers half curled above the pommel of one of her nearest blades - she did not really care which one at this point. The rest of the form scuttled forth after that, her blood chilling as she tried to force some movement into herself, her eyes darting about and counting them and then the haphazard attachment to their front legs.

If Fallon could have screamed, or even make a noise she probably would have. But at that moment in time her vocal cords had failed her, her throat seizing up and her feet taking a mind of her own. Her pulse quickened, adrenal rising up as three of the creatures' attention turned onto her. Eyes snapped over to the others, the stuck Keene and the more able Pulren standing there with one. They could take care of one of them right? Her mind whispered, another step back, as she knew bitterly what was about to occur. They were coming for her, and once they had her no doubt their attention would turn to the others. It was a wrestle between staying where she was, frozen in fear or having a final blazing act and give them - what she hoped - was a bit more time to work out the mystery of what was going on. Fallon's mind snapped, one final look to the men before pure adrenal consumed her. She turned upon her heel and bolted off down the path they were heading, blades chinking in their scabbards as she went.