| Dunsmore Horror, Part Two |
| Summary: | The picnicing party find themselves locked in a room in the inn of the little village. Their hosts are not intending to let them out. |
| Date: | 1865-12-18 |
| Related: | http://eternalcrusade.wikidot.com/log:1865-12-18-dunsmore-horror-part-one |
| NPCs: | {$npc} |
| Players: |
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| Room Name |
| Room description |
| 1865-12-18 |
They had been left in a single, though large, room at the inn. The villagers had placed Alina on one of the two beds in the room, and left Ramius to place Myrana on the other if he so chose to do so. Once the four were in the room, the villagers departed and the door shut, clicking with a lock.
There is no window, and the door is a heavy-built door set firmly. Two beds, a hearth, a small nightstand in between the beds… that is all there is in the room. There is already a fire crackling in the hearth, keeping the room warm.
The villagers did not attempt to take the two knights' weapons, seemingly uncaring if the two young men remained armed.
For the moment, the two young women are still under the effects of whatever drug had been introduced to their systems; and, after several minutes had passed after the villagers had departed, the odd suggestion feeling that the two knights had been under fades, leaving them both clear-headed once more.
Now that they are in the room, Gabriel steps over to check on both women for a brief moment and then looks up to Ramius. "I thought they were going to check on them, but instead they just put them here?" A look of confusion crosses his face and then he shakes his head. No matter. Stepping over to the door, he tries the handle. Locked. Oh yes, he had heard a click hadn't he? Well, that made sense then. Taking a step back, he scratches at the side of his head before looking at the door, trying to judge whether or not he can kick this thing down if he needs to.
After a few moments of studying the door, a feeling of unease comes over him. "Ramius, I think we are in some sort of cell." He proceeds to point out some scratchings nearby saying 'help me' and 'save us'. "We -might- be able to break down the door if we both tried together, but it does look well crafted."
For what it's worth, Ramius had managed to throw off the spell pretty well after a little bit there. But there was no way he was leaving without the other two, even if he might've been willing to fight through the whole village with Myra in one arm and his sword in the other. Unfortunately, the cell they're in is rather well-made. Its door are solidly built, the walls heavily reinforced. There are no windows, so it's impossible to say what's waiting for them outside.
More importantly, the girls haven't woken up yet. Running in this situation without their aid would be untenable at the very least.
"You think?" Ramius grunts to his now no longer brainwashed cousin. "This is pretty obviously a prison." He grunts, sliding the silvery length of his great blade from its sheath, "You have your weapon, yes? Once the girls awaken, we leave."
Gabriel grunts in response to Ramius' grunt and shrugs. "Yes, I have my weapon. What do you take me for? My betrothed?" He snorts and then slides out his own silvery sword, his new prized possession for having won the tournament. Or rather… one of many prized possessions he obtained at the tournament. "I will go and see if I can rouse them." Keeping his sword drawn mostly due to wanting to remain ready in case someone comes back, Gabriel steps over to the beds and tries to shake each woman awake, calling out their names as he does so. If only he had a large bucket of water to dump on their faces or something.
Myrana is out like a light; Gabriel's shaking elicts a nearly boneless swat that passes an inch from his concerned face. The way she might push Ouros her elementi off the bed in the middle of the night.
Alina stretches a little, rolling over on one side and snuggling into the blankets, stirring as the drug is beginning to wear off. Gabriel's voice and attempts at rousing her only garner a murmur of, "Mmph. Cm'back to bed, Gabe…"
Myrana is shaken, but she does not wake. She moves, but Ramius is not convinced of her true wakefulness. "Gabriel," Ramius says, rising as he replaces its sword back into its sheath. "When a maiden is asleep like this in the stories, there is only one thing to do for it," the heir to Gendiel… tentatively approaches Myrana's bed. He glances toward his cousin, "…Do not tell her relatives what I must do here."
And then Alina sleep-talks, and he gives his cousin the most incredulous look.
But… He has business. Ramius kneels by Myrana's cot, his expression pensive and maybe just a bit uncertain. He reaches down to gently brush the hair away from her face, and slowly, carefully, leans down to wake the sleeping princess the best way the stories know how.
Gabriel looks at Ramius with a dumbfounded expression. "This isn't some story, cousin." And nothing will be said of Alina's words or Ramius' own look. Sighing inwardly, he places a hand on Alina's shoulder and shakes her gently once again. "Alina, wake up. If you do not, we will be forced to throw you over a saddle and take you back to Lyioness like a sack of produce to market." He glances over to Ramius with a grin.
Perhaps unsurprisingly, neither fairytale kisses nor threats of indiginities are enough to overcome some apothecary talent, as the two women, though begining to stir, at least, still doze on for the moment.
Outside the door, the shuffling sound of feet can be heard, and muffled voices. speaking lowly.
Ramius withdraws after a long moment and glances to the door and is suddenly overcome by the terrible realization that they are very swiftly running short of time. Fairytale kisses are not working, Myra is not waking up! It dawns on him that maybe, just maybe, the stories were wrong about them.
No, that doesn't make any sense.
Clearly one kiss was not good enough for this tremendous curse!
And so Ramius leans back down to try again, because damnit, it's in like /EVERY/ story! This has got to work!
I-it's not because he's got a thing for her or anything. No way, nope.
Gabriel stares at Alina, annoyed. That should've gotten her attention. He is a little more pragmatic than his cousin, despite his earlier lull in judgment by agreeing with the people to come up here. Stepping over to his pack, he rustles around in it for a moment and then picks up the water flask he had earlier. Stepping back to the bed with Alina in it, he uncaps it and begins to pour water right onto Alina's face. "Ramius, we don't have time for kisses, shake her a little or something."
Third time's the charm, right? Ri- wait, no, Myrana stirs, waking gradually as her consciousness returns like a bubble floating upward through muddy water. Her eyes open slightly and she catches drowsily at the collar of Ramius' jerkin, tugging him closer—
-Then they snap open, and the hand that was reaching up sleepily to join the other one at the laces of his shirt instead comes round and WALLOPS him in the face with a tremendous left hook that goes right for his jaw. "^#@*!!"
Storm-grey eyes flutter open, though unfocused. "Mmph." Alina coughs and sputters a little, waving almost drunkenly at the water. "'s cold. Why did you do… that?" Alina wipes at her face rather ungracefully.
A scraping sound echoes in the room.
"Mmh?" Ramius blinks when he feels Myrana tugging at his collar. I-it worked? It really worked! Ahahaha, victory! His reward is this kiss. Clearly everything is now coming up Ramius.
And then Myrana pops him one, right in the kisser. There's a brief freeze-frame of her punch smashing into the side of his jaw. Ramius is knocked right back onto his ass! "Gah! Ow!" He coughs, waggling his jaw from side to side with a series of wet pops. "Ugh, you knocked it out of place. That is what I get for trying to wake you up nicely—"
Scrape. Scraaaaape.
It's only because of Ramius' vantage point, flat on his butt and peering over the cots and the two women into the hearth that he notices something disturb the flames. "…What in the world?" he grunts, moving toward the fire to peer into the swirling embers. Carefully, he unsheaths his sword again and begins swatting at the fire, attempting to either smother it or dislodge whatever was dropped into the flames. Perhaps it is a key, or something!?
He is purposefully not looking at Myra because she totally just punched him in the face and that is kind of embarassing so his face is so very red. Thankfully this fire is right here and it is making that kind of hard to pick up.
Gabriel gives Alina a stern look. "Come, wake up. You and Myrana passed out and now we are locked in a room. I do not know what is going on here, but you should clear your mind and get ready, bo…" He pauses as he was in the middle of turning towards Ramius and Myrana, only to see Myrana put Ramius on his ass. He bursts out laughing, but quickly shakes his head. "Ready yourselves." He plugs up the waterskin, and tosses it on the bed, making it available for the women to drink. He turns towards the door, but spots Ramius swatting at the fire. "Cousin, I've heard of battling flames, but what are you doing?"
Myrana struggles up onto her elbows, propping herself up a little. "O..ow… wait," she looks around, confused. "What just… ooh my head. Where are we? Alina?" she looks over at the other woman and Gabriel, bewildered, then over at Ramius. And while Gabriel contains his laughter, covers her lips with a hand. Mortified. Did she just punch /Ramius/? Wait, that would imply that-!! Oh lord. Of course. OF COURSE. Kissed by Ramius, and she clobbers him. OF COURSE. But something else tugs at her attention.
"What is that… what is that smell? It smells like…"
Beat.
"R-ramius, in the fire…"
Alina blinks up at Gabriel, pouting and shivering slightly. So cruel, to wettenate her! But her brain begins to start working again. Slowly. And she rubs her face as a scent tickles her nose.
"…who is burning…" she yawns, shaking her head. "Oh, One, what is that called again? The.. sleepy stuff."
"What?" Ramius says, smashing at the fire with the flat of his sword to try and get at whatever just got dumped in there. Or just, to smash out the flames in general. When Alina mentions 'sleepy stuff' he begins taking much more… drastic measures.
"Shit," he curses, because Ramius D'Arran has a mouth to him when the need arises. He squats low at the knee and takes his blade in both hands. With a yell, he slides the flat of the sword across and inward, dragging the ash and burning wood out of the hearth! "Gabriel! Kill the flame!"
Ramius gets a head start going. With his boots.
Gabriel pays little attention to Myrana and Alina, his attention is on Ramius, a confused expression on his face. "Cousin, what the hell are you doing?" He still has no idea why Ramius is stabbing at the fire, but when the man drags burning wood out of the hearth, he blinks and then runs forward. "Damn it.. Damn it." He mutters the phrase several more times as he just goes on gut reaction and begins stomping at some of the logs. Glancing around the room, he darts forward and grabs the blankets off Myrana's bed and starts to use them to help smother out the fire has he dances around on it, still stomping. He probably looks like a damn fool.
"Opium." Myrana realizes her heart is pounding and she's shaking. Memories of the dark little room with its filthy brass censer next to the bed rush up before her eyes, aided and made urgent by the smoke in the air and the drug already in her system. They want the four Aequorans asleep and complacent.
Alina rises to her feet, adrenaline enough to keep the lingering drugs in her body and in the air at least from affecting her any further. She watches as Ramius and Gabriel stamp out the remaining fire, biting her lip hard as the room plunges into darkness.
"What's going on?" she finally asks, her tone having a bit of an edge to it. "Where are we?"
Unfortunately standing next to the fireplace full of burning opium is not the best way to remain totally lucid. Fortunately, Ramius' considerable constitution helps him stave off the worst of the effects. He stumbles briefly as the fire is extinguished completely, sweet blue-grey smoke drifting up from under a boot heel. He grunts, shaking his head, "Ugh. Myrana must've hit me harder than I thought."
"W-well!" Myrana labors a little, sitting up against the head of the bed. She's still shaking and the room is spinning and its hard to see straight, but she tries to breathe more shallowly, fighting panic and embarrassment both. "Well you /startled/ me! Any.. anyway, what are they going to do to us? Why would… why would they want to lock us all in?" She tries and fails to keep her calm, and panic leaps up in her heart. "Their hands! And that girl's teeth! What are they?!"
"What is going on here?" Gabriel sighs, rubbing his face for a moment. "A part of me is lost, but the other part of me is getting a little annoyed by this whole thing. If I get out of here alive, I'm coming back here with a patrol and well…" He trails off and glances over to Myrana and nods. "Yes, why would they want to lock us in? But what are you talking about? What teeth? I saw a man with some odd hands, but that could just be a birth defect."
"Why did you hit Ramius?" Alina asks cautiously.
"Nevermind!" says Myrana.
Alina frowns. "Yes, it's quite rude to point out when commoners have such defects." She looks around— pointless in the dark, perhaps. "Um, we're locked in? Why in the world…"
"Didn't you see th-them?" Myrana cries, but then like a slap to the face she hears herself, and closes her eyes. And opium or no opium, she takes in a deep, stern breath, clenching her jaw and counseling herself even as her fingers bite into the ticking of the mattress.
You mustn't fear them. They must fear you.
Opening her eyes again, she is calmer. In truth, she's still afraid, but her father's words order her thoughts somewhat, even through the groggy haze. If only she could think more clearly…! To lie down and sleep would be easier. Perhaps they are only kidnappers and will ransom them back to their families. Yes, maybe…
"I do not know," Ramius murmurs, rubbing at his chin in the pitch darkness. That's gonna leave a bruise, probably. "They were… Strange. Did something to my mind," he grunts, shaking his head. Fortunately that seems to have largely faded by now. He sheathes his blade, then, but keeps it slung so that he can draw it more easily, "I do not like this. The sooner we get out, the better."
He freezes, then, unsheathing his great blade, "…Did you all hear that? That sound again. Stay still, keep your eyes and ears open."
Gabriel nods at Alina. "She is right, I didn't want to bring up the mans defects." He goes silent and considers the situation for a moment. "Ramius, should we try to smash down the door?" The words are whispered in case theya re being eavesdropped on. There is a silence and then he hears the scraping sound and he freezes. Readying his own weapon, he whispers, "I heard it." Then he tries to listen hard, trying to figure out the direction the sound is coming from in order to defend himself.
Myrana holds her breath suddenly; she heard it too. And for a hard moment she tries not to breathe or hear her own heart beating, ears straining. But…
"…What do you want?" She asks the dark room.
There are all sorts of different people in this world; Myrana d'Armaz is the sort who wants to know.
A voice in the darkness. The innkeeper, in her matronly tone, "Ah, dear me. It would be easier for you if you just went to sleep. We do not want to hurt you."
Alina lets out a small noise of surprise, and only stumbles a little in the dark as she tries to make her way towards the door, where she thinks the noise is coming from.
"Please," Roberta says politely, "do not stress yourselves. The Gods will have you, but it is much better for everyone if you are at peace when they take you."
Gabriel turns in the direction of the voice, his sword held before him. "If you don't want to hurt us, simply allow us to depart and then I will grant you 48 hours to leave these lands. Otherwise, I will cut my way out of this place or die trying, either way I will cut down as many of you as I can. I care not for your gods or for whether they will have me or not." He stops talking and then makes gathers up a good bit of spit in his mouth and spits it in the direction of the hearth.
"I spit on your gods and their wants. I am Gabriel al'Callenta, son of Cesare al'Callenta the Silver Bull so either get the fuck out of my way or come at me you conniving bitch." The fact that Myrana and Alina have been put into harms way because of this 'kindly' woman and her village and everything that has happened in the past several moments seemed to have stoked his temper, and this woman talking about being taken by gods? That just adds to the fire.
"I think your gods will find that we would be somewhat difficult to digest," Ramius growls to the ceiling-innkeeper. Argetlahm whistles through the air as he brings it to the ready. His hands tighten around the weapon's hilt as he begins backing towards the nearest wall. They need to find the door- fighting in the dark puts them at a major disadvantage.
Not that it will help these… /things/ much.
"You know," Ramius laughs, the mirth in his voice is perhaps a little unsettling, "I have fought others who claim to serve the glory of their gods. You might say my family has developed it into something of a specialty." Some part of him, deep down inside, is oh so very excited to finally be part of something may just be worthy of folklore in and of itself. But he tempers that little voice- there is much more at stake here than reputation and honor. "Come then. Bring your forces against us and break them against our blades. The blood of Arran has triumphed over your like before, and it shall triumph again!"
His eyes flit through the darkness to where Alina and Myrana /aught/ to be. Or rather, where he remembers them being. He hisses, "Backs against the wall. Stay close."
Myrana turns invisibly in the bed, pointing her eyes at the wall where the voice came from. Gooseflesh crawls all over her, and she feels almost as if she's swimming. Its something she remembers from the two days she was in the utter grips of the opium smoke after the assassins came for her father. With the darkness and the cunning, soothing fingers of the drug it is almost impossible to -feel- which way is up, and which is down. The only point of reference is memory and sound; her hazy memory of how the room looked before the fire was kicked out by the two knights and her uncertain sense of her companions.
Though no-one can see it, she reaches out with her right hand tenatively at the black air in a gesture of frightened alone-ness.
"…If…" She swallows, and tries again, in a small voice: "<If Faith, you s-seek not to decieve…>" she stutters in the Old Tongue; A thing which she has learned from books and crooked Syndicate priests. If these are cultists…
Alina's spine straightens as the sound of Myrana speaking in the Old Tongue, a language she, too, knows.
"<Oh, pretty child,>" Roberta replies, her Old Tongue much, much cleaner and less stuttering than Myrana's. "<Faith decieves us all in the end. There is nothing but destruction and chaos for us all. It is this truth you must accept, if you will find peace in this life.>"
There is a horrible, terrible silence. "<For whatever lies your priests have told you? There is no life after.>"
Alina lets out a whimper of genuine fear, which might be enough to at least let Myrana know that she, too, understood the words the woman spoke.
Scowling, Gabriel takes a slow step forward. "I do not understand what is being said here, but let us depart this place now." He glances to either side of him, as if that will do anything. He tries to recall where the door might be located, but unfortunately he didn't really memorize the layout of the room as well as he should have, an error he would have to fix in the future… if there was a future. "Ramius, do you remember where the door is?" He whispers this as softly as he can hoping his cousin can hear him.
In the moments that follow that statement its as if the air were sucked out of the room. Silently, and with a dizziness that almost makes her stumble, Myrana rises from the bed with an audible sigh of skirts. Then she gathers them up in her hands and steps around, walking on cat-feet in utter silence till she finds where she knows the fireplace to be, when she ducks down and squeezes into it with hardly a scrape. She’s shaking as she does so. There must be a way out, even if…
"Vaguely," Ramius replies. Being the most lucid man in the room when they first arrived, Ramius had spent a good deal of time staring at the walls. Who knew that doing so would prove so invaluable? Based on where the fireplace was, he begins sliding across the wall, moving bit by bit towards where he believes the door to be. One hand runs fingertips across the wall behind him, feeling for anything that might suggest a doorway.
Then, sure anough, he finds it- a gap in the surface. "Here," he hisses, hoping that Gabriel will hear. "Over here, Gabriel. Let us make haste."
"Give yourselves freely," the matronly woman's voice echoes in the room, "And there will be no pain. We only must take one tonight and give to the Gods. Is there none of you who would be willing? One, that three may live another week?"
A wave of suggestion washes over the four of them, tugging at their weaknesses, the darkness they've seen, guilt and sorrow.
Myrana has found footholds and handholds in the chimmney and is a few feet up when…. when that voice. That… that voice.
Her hands numb, and in her chest her heart pounds and her stomach turns. Silently, she puts her forehead against the sooty hearthstone in the back of the fireplace, feeling just the barest breath of cold air funneled down onto her from above.
All the blackness in her vision, the sound of her friends whispering to one another and moving blindly for the hopeless thought of throwing themselves at the door where others like them have blunted swords and broken nails, dragging and clawing till blood pits the hopeless oak… How long could they last, really? How long have guests under the floorboards of her own bedroom, deep in her father's secret cellars, lasted? How many times has she awoken and climbed out her window into the cool quiet garden night to escape the sound of their whimpering voices, lost and alone in the belly of despair and broken bones?
From the fireplace, there is a clack of heels as Myrana lets herself drop two feet, riding boots meeting the ashes and stone with sudden audibility. When did she get over there? Maybe there had been a breath of lavender that drifted past a moment ago, but no sound of her passage.
She bends double and steps back out, fingers leaving a sooty brush on Ramius' sleeve as she goes past him.
"You're not lying, are you?" She asks. "You're not lying? W… Well here!" She throws down her dagger and it clatters on the floorboards, voice cracking. "<Come here then, damn you!>"
Alina closes her eyes, trying to get her bearings in the room. She trembles a little bit at the emotions and memories the words spoken evoke in her, but she swallows back those feelings, forcing herself to ignore them.
The sound of Myrana at the hearth— she turns her head towards the sound, even if she cannot see in the darkness. But those words she speaks… "No, Myrana, don't say it—"
There is a scraping of stone, a creaking. It comes from everywhere, and yet nowhere at once. The wall? The hearth? It cannot be the door, for Ramius has found it, and it remains shut.
And the smell of lavender is gone.
Flashes of past events fly through Gabriel's mind, things he has struggled with from time to time. Feelings of helplessness and guilt for not being there for his brother in the last major battles in the north, feelings of guilt and sorrow as comrades died around him. He slams his sword down into the floor and holds the it tight as he clenches his teeth, trying to clear his mind of everything in it.
It is a struggle, and as he pushes through his past, he grunts out. "Fuck… your offer. Fuck… your gods." Working his blade out of the floor, he holds it tight and then lifts it before him in a salute to the darkness. Turning slightly, he charges as fast as he can across the room, and then he slams into the wall with a very loud thud and some slight cracking. Progress, but not as much as he would like.
Another wave of… Of /something./ Discomfort Ramius flinches at the feeling of sweet cloying words washing across his consciousness, ensnaring his thoughts. Her words seep in like rain through cracks in stone, eroding and slipping in deep. It dredges out old memories. Failures. Deaths that came about by hubris or carelessness or hesitation when the moment called for action. One death to save three. Would it be a noble sacrifice? Could it be that it is their only way free?
He swallows hard and opens his mouth to answer—
But then he feels something brush across his arm. He hears another voice answers before he can. It's the voice he wanted least to hear.
"Myra, no—" He reaches out into the darkness, groping as if trying trying to snatch her out of the darkness before it can swallow her up.
He moves too slowly. Her sounds, her scent, all vanish.
Ramius' blood freezes in his veins.
The one hand he has on his sword squeezes so tightly that his flesh burns raw beneath the leather of his gloves. His eyes swim in his head. Blood throbs in the pit of his chest, rhythmic beats hammering out of his chest and into every limb.
"Give…" He hisses, "Give her back." A blood curdling scream blasts from the very core of his being, thundering off the walls of the tiny room. He turns surging into the walls with his bulk, his blade, everything he can throw at the room, "<Give her back— Or I swear by my blood SHATTER HEAVEN AND EARTH to take her again! THE STARS WILL BE STRUCK FROM THE SKY, AND ALL YOUR LANDS AND ALL YOUR GODS WILL BE ASH BEFORE ME!">
Another wall makes a solid crack, though stays intact.
"STOP!" Alina stomps a foot angrily, terror and frustration overwhelming her. She moves to where she last heard Gabriel's voice, and the thud of him hitting the wall. She reaches out until she finds him, sliding her shaking hand against his arm. "Stop…" she whispers quietly. "They took her. There has to be another door," she mumbles, gripping the chain of his armor.
"Gabriel, please. Help me find it." Her voice in the darkness is pleading, afraid.
There is no sound outside the room, not now. It seems that they have what they wanted… Myrana chose to sacrifice herself for the others.
That only meant they had to get to her before they finished it.