As Miroslaw headed up the stairs, he could pick up some commotion coming from the end of the hall. Once he reached the top a door burst open and a fear stricken man hurled himself down the way, bumping into the warrior before pushing past the door to the tavern.
"Blasted coward!" said a crockety looking head that popped out of the room. The strange man had a lazy right eye that hid under a low brow with a wider left eye honing in on Miroslaw.
"You! Get in here and help me with this equipment, I'm late as it is, bloody Wistvalians. None here appreciates the academics!"
As the warrior moved toward the room he could see that inside was a mess of scrolls, ink pots, pens, and worn out tomes scattered around the floors and everywhere else. Right by the entrance was a wooden box with shoulder straps that held a number of interesting tools and fluids.
"That's it there, bring that with you and I'll pay you for the trouble. I'll see this expedition through myself if I have to!"
The odd scholar barely gave the warrior an eye as he zipped around the room like a mouse gathering last minute materials. He looked every bit as wiry as one would expect a mad explorer, with a sea-blue robe, cloth boots, and wide brimmed leather hat with nicks on the edges. It looked as if someone had clothed a corpse or skeleton with the odd man appearing to barely hold up his own garb.
Before doing as this old man requested he would ask a slew of questions in a calm and direct manner without pausing for a response, "A few questions first, whats the pay? How long is the journey going to be, to where, and how dangerous? Will I be needing traveling supplies or are you supplying?" Miroslaw was a bit wary of the details of the journey, seeing as how a man just turn tailed.
As he interrogated the old man, he would fold his arms across his chest and lean up against the door frame. He knew that he was not well equipped for a long journey. That being the situation, if the man was not supplying food, he may need to stop by the marketplace before they set off.
Death is no more than turning us over from time to eternity. Whether that eternity is damnation or salvation is determined in the time we have.
The old man stopped in his tracks and creaked as he turned toward Miroslaw with a slack jawed gape as if he heard something stupid come out of the warrior's mouth. However, the expression quickly turned to a twisted sort of glee when the scholar realized the mercenary was actually there for the job, or so he assumed.
"Ah! You're here for the work? Splendid, most splendid. You surely look more capable than that lout that just ran out of here like a scared ninny. Honestly, couldn't handle one day down at the ruin."
The gentleman took removed some spectacles from a sleeve pocket and shakily put them on before going over to a desk to fetch a piece of parchment.
"Sign this, please. This will bind you legally as my right hand man until you finish the work. If law stands for anything around these parts anyhow."
The document was long and elaborate with clauses, written with tiny elegant lettering like a loophole filled contract would look like. The things that stuck out were those clauses that stated that payment would not go to next of kin, Sir. Gargamel (yes, that's his name, give me a break I haven't GM'd for a while) was not responsible for the employed's equipment, and you were to stay on site with the employer for as long as he remained regardless of any dangers present. The pay was apparently 500 gold pieces for completing all tasks requested at the end of the week.
"You're just in luck, young man. This happens to be my last day down at the ruin and all my other assistants ran out on me. So I tell you what, if you can sack up and stay with me throughout the day you'll get the full payment of what you'd have gotten for the week. I would suggest getting some food on the way out, though, all these freeloaders ate my pockets dry."
Sir. Gargamel seemed to have gotten his articles in order as he exited out to the hallway, "Any other questions.....sorry, I didn't catch your name?
Miroslaw is not the biggest fan of contracts, but after skimming over it and seeing the pay, he signs it without reluctance. He listens to what the old man has to say and notices that he did not have anything, directly, to say on the risk of the ruins. Miroslaw assumed that this probably was not a good sign. He shakes off the concern, and steps back to give the man a little room to move into the hallway.
Responding to the old man's inquiry, he revealed, “Its Miroslaw.” He then proceeded to ask his question, “Where will I meet you to head to the ruins?” He was going to need to stop by the market and get some food before they head out.
(Love the name! I wouldn’t worry, this is my first forum based RP ever, hehe. I am just happy to be Rping.)
Death is no more than turning us over from time to eternity. Whether that eternity is damnation or salvation is determined in the time we have.
The old man seemed spirited for his age, whatever that was past 100. He seemed very anxious to get going, "Yes, I'll be at the North gate. Try not to dally, we haven't got all day and I don't have enough oil to work all night either."
The old man began to walk off before spinning violently around to where it looked like he might have broken something doing it, "And be very careful with that equipment! It's worth more than all the gold I'm paying you. The ruin isn't far from here so you won't have to carry it for long."
With that he left Miroslaw in the middle of the hall to take care of whatever business he needed to himself with his bones creaking all the way out the door.
-
The market is lively and bustling with activity should Miroslaw decide to take this direction in town. There were several food stalls selling fresh beef or catches from the fishing boats, along with stores selling basic traveling supplies.
You'll find that a sack of food, bread, cheese, and some jerky will set you back 5 gp. This amount will last you the whole day.
[If you'd like to search for other items feel free to do so. I'll indicate whether you've found them and how much they cost assuming they're not in the marketplace forum.]
Miroslaw picks up the wooden box that the old man needed carried and adjusts the shoulder straps. He carefully positions the box onto his back when he is content with the straps and closes the door. He heads down the stairs and off to the market to prepare for the journey.
At least a days worth of food would be required for the trip, assuming nothing went wrong. Miroslaw sighed deeply at the thought but promptly shrugged it off and began browsing for some food. He came across a bag of food that would surely last a day. He buys this for 5 gold pieces, thanking the merchant and continues browsing a little more, contemplating what might come to be useful for this trip. He comes across some lamp oil and recalls the old man's words. He decides to purchase it for 5 more gold pieces, once again thanking the merchant. At another stall, he comes across a knife he can think of many purposes for and a steel canteen. He hands the merchant 10 gold for both.
With the last purchase he decides that he has spent enough time at the market and heads strait for the North Gate to meet with the old man. He was carrying quite a bit. With the sack of food perched over his shoulder next to the box of supplies, assuming he spotted the old man, he would approach him and claim, “All set to go then.”
Last Edit: Dec 18, 2013 16:41:11 GMT -5 by Miroslaw
Death is no more than turning us over from time to eternity. Whether that eternity is damnation or salvation is determined in the time we have.
Miroslaw finds everything else he searches for without an issue and pays accordingly.
[You've spent a total of 20 gp. Please subtract the amount from your character sheet and add the items to your inventory]
The odd man, Gargamel, is waiting for Miroslaw as the warrior makes his way to the gate, the old man looking impatient. "It's about time!" he says, though it hadn't been long since Miroslaw was at the market. The scholar seemed very anxious to get going.
"I have materials on site as well, with any luck they weren't destroyed or stolen over night. Damned help." he spat at the ground to show his disdain for help.
"Come, it's not far, we're going to an ancient burial ground, here long before this town was."
It took the two no more than an hour's walk, or jog in the old man's case. Despite his age and feeble looking person, Gargamel was quite spry and insistent on reaching the area fast despite the fact Miroslaw carried fragile materials in the pack. He only slowed once they set foot on the burial ground he mentioned back in Wistvale.
The place was set on a hill overlooking Wistvale way off in the distance. Despite the fact that the sun was out, it was quite dim where they walked, as if the light dare not touch the ground. There was an odd air that Miroslaw couldn't quite place. If he were a superstitious man he'd might think that spirits lingered ominously about the broken headstones and creeping weeds. It was obvious the burial site was kept by nobody and very few but perhaps the most twisted minds would dare to linger.
Which would put a question to the sort of man the scholar was.
Gargamel made his way to an open crypt with blackened stones and a skull etched on the headway. "Come now, the rest of the materials are inside." he said trying to hurry the warrior along. Without hesitation the old man went inside the chamber and looked out the entrance to wait for Miroslaw.
Miroslaw was pleasantly surprised at how near the location was. He was also astounded that this old man had so much vitality. He was very much looking forward to discovering out what was so interesting that this man was in such a haste to research, especially in such a grim place.
Miroslaw felt apprehensive about this setting. As he pressed forward, his anxiety grew as he began thinking too much. He imagined that this old man needed a warrior for more than just carrying a box of supplies. Horrid images came to his mind of savage bright eyes in the dark night. He visibly shuttered at the thought.
He hurried forward to keep up with the old man, following him down into this gloomy crypt. He decided to question the old man as they continued, “So, what are you researching in a place like this?” He hoped to sound merely curious rather than showing his uneasiness.
Death is no more than turning us over from time to eternity. Whether that eternity is damnation or salvation is determined in the time we have.
As they made their way down into the first chamber, Gargamel rushed to the end of the room and felt for something along the cold stone wall. The spot he felt had been brushed of cobwebs and other obstructions unlike the rest of the wall.
"Ah, good, none have been here," he said before pushing a hidden panel. Within moments a massive stone slab gave way and opened like a door that led into well lit path further down. The light being emitted came not from torches, but rather strange green crystals that hung alongside the walls that sprang to life as soon as the door opened.
Gargamel turned to see if his assistant was impressed, "If you must know, it's a laboratory filled with ancient magic that was thought lost. This location was uncovered several years ago by a noble brat in Highever who had no idea of the knowledge she uncovered. I aim to learn its secrets and replicate them. Now come, time's wasting."
The two walked deeper into the hidden dungeon of lost magics that Gargamel claimed. Save for a few of these mysterious lanterns the place was largely in shambles as they passed by caved-in rooms and fallen ceilings. The architecture, however, was so strange even for a supposed ruin.
It was unlike anything Miroslaw had ever seen. The walls that weren't destroyed were smooth and white, made with a stone he never seen before. There were also strange, broken machinations made of metal and stone that took the shape of something not unlike an arachnid. In some corners of the ceiling he could see cylindrical wall fixtures with a dim orb fixed at their ends making it appear as if they had eyes. In several of the rooms he passed, Miroslaw could have sworn giant metal limbs were falling from the ceiling. Lifeless though they appeared to be, it was not pleasant to think of what they could do if their body were alive.
Yet, alive is the sense that Miroslaw got from the place. The warrior could feel a shallow breath around him as if he were in the belly of a great beast. The sensation became stronger as he ventured further.
After seeing all these things, nothing compared to what lay in the central chamber that Gargamel led Miroslaw into. It was massive, large enough to hold a dragon's den. The room was mostly empty save for a large crystal, as big as a boulder, fixed on an alter in the middle of the floor. At the base there were some materials scattered about which Gargamel scurried to.
"Excellent, everything is as is."
Next to his work space, not ten feet away, was one of those strange metal spiders.
"Now then, just keep an eye out while I continue from where I left off will you? There are still active sentries," he said nodding to the arachnid, "But age has not been kind to them, a big, strong warrior such as yourself should have no trouble should one appear."
Last Edit: Dec 21, 2013 2:40:51 GMT -5 by Serenity
Miroslaw was indeed amazed by what he was witnessing. When the old man turned to him, his jaw was dropped in amazement. He had never seen anything like it before. Even though he was not fan a fan of magic in the slightest, a flameless torch was seemed pretty handy. He quickly composed himself and shook off the horrid feeling that magic gave him. He would remain speechless, satisfied by what he was and seeing and the man's explanation. He continued to follow the old man into the magical and strange cavern.
Miroslaw grew more uneasy the deeper into this place they traveled. His imagination Was was always his worst enemy and this place amplified that weakness. His mind wandered to magical metal monstrosities that and cloaked evil wizards. To attempt to calm his anxiety attack he began lightly humming to himself as he they continued into this place. He refrained from adding any additional questions, fearing the answers he may receive.
As they reached the large room, Miroslaw once again lost Control of his lower jaw. He is simply amazing at the sheer size of the gem! He stood at the entryway in awe as the old man sprang to action. Responding to the old man he questions, "so... these sentries are... made of metal and look like that?" pointing to the metal spider. The old man would probably be able to hear the unrest in his voice. He was very uneasy about it and felt the fear setting in Quickly. Miroslaw wondered if his blade would even be able to cut through the spiders. As much as he has battled, He has never faced an opponent not comprised of flesh.
He Quietly removed the box of supplies from his back and placed it on the ground near the old man's work area along with the Bag of food. He currently lacked any appetite. He was riddled with fear As his imagination continued to wander. He Took a deep breath as he stood alert, readying himself for whatever may come this way. He stood as stoically As he could manage a few feet from the old man's workstation with his arms crossed over his chest completely silent, listening for anything out of the..... ordinary.
(I'm assuming that spider you mentioned is inactive/dead at the moment...)
Last Edit: Dec 21, 2013 16:22:41 GMT -5 by Miroslaw
Death is no more than turning us over from time to eternity. Whether that eternity is damnation or salvation is determined in the time we have.
(Newp, it's alive and FIRIN' LAZAS AT YOU! Nah, it's dead, maybe. Perhaps Gargamel should have mentioned the spiders and advised bringing a bludgeoning weapon. Yea, that might have been a good idea by the GM. Anyway, back to our story.)
Having seen this exact same scene all week, Gargamel could already sense the unrest in Miroslaw and was showing concern himself that this could end badly for both of them.
"Look, young man, I wouldn't have brought you if I thought you couldn't handle a little danger. These machines, though great, are ancient and out of repair. A good kick in the rear and they're out."
He looked over the box as Miroslaw lowered it and checked to see that everything was alright.
"I'm so close to uncovering the secrets behind these devices and the significance of this crystal, which I believe to be some sort of power source. Just steel yourself for a few hours and we'll be out of this place."
Gargamel said nothing more and immediately set himself on the alter. Upon its stone surfaces were writings and etchings Miroslaw didn't understand. He noted that several rolls of paper were stacked to the side that were dirtied with lead from tracings Gargamel likely made through his studying.
On the side the scholar worked on were also levers and pulleys set into the stone. Gargamel hadn't touched any, and instead wrote down notes as if continuing where he left off in a leather bound journal.
For the next half hour it was painfully quiet save for the scribbles from the pen. The room was fairly dim and the crystal barely emitting any light like the smaller ones in this strange labyrinth. The only light sources came from such crystals lined along the walls which were far from the center.
Yet, despite the quiet, the warrior couldn't help but feeling like he was being watched. The sense that there was something alive never left, and seeming being at the heart of it all didn't help. It was a wonder Gargamel didn't seem as nervous, or perhaps the old man was better at hiding it. Having already been here a week he might have gotten used to it already.
Suddenly, from the corner of his eye, Miroslaw noticed something at one side of the room. When he looked, there was a completely new, darkened hallway he swore wasn't there before. What's more, in that darkness, he could have sworn something crept away from the light.
Gargamel happened to notice, "What, do you see something?"
Gargamel's words did a great deal to settle Miroslaw's angst. It was a pleasant departure from the old man's normally kooky demeanor. Though, Miroslaw had actually begun to appreciate his high spirits. Seeing an old man with as much energy as Gargamel was a fairly easy sight to smile at. He managed to form a small smile and nodded to the old man in response. He continued to stand watchful with his arms across his chest.
The silence calmed Miroslaw's nerves even more. After only a few minutes they had returned to a normal level. He managed to gobble down a few pieces of jerky and some cheese while his stomach was settled. He has neglected eating, and the jerky really hit the spot. After his short meal, he went right back to his watchful position.
A long while of silence was led by something catching his attention. When he looked, his heart rate went straight to the sky. He thought his eyes may be playing a trick on him. He tightly squeezed his eyelids, hoping to clear the illusion. It did not d so. Responding to Gargamel he simply questioned, "Has that always been there?" in a faint whisper. He did not think a gesture to be needed as he was turned to face it.
Miroslaw swore it was all a trick of his mind. He contemplated drawing his sword, wondering to himself again if it would be able to cut through the strange metal beings. He decided against it and waited, as patiently as a body saturated in fear could manage, for any other signs of real danger. He could feel his heart beating in his skull. He felt his hands trembling and his knees feeling weaker than they should. He wondered why he was feeling all of this as if it were his first battle. He had been in countless battles and had grown quite accustomed to the fear and reactions that the body goes through. He knew it was because these metal beings were unlike anything he has previously faced. Despite the old man assuring they were easily broken, the fear of the unknown remained.
Death is no more than turning us over from time to eternity. Whether that eternity is damnation or salvation is determined in the time we have.
Gargamel got up from where he knelt to see what the warrior gazed intensely into. He too took a moment to study the new hallway, realizing it wasn't there before.
"That is the mystery of this room, perhaps this entire labyrinth. It can shift and take new shape, it seems, or at least hide much of itself to outsiders. I fear this is what surprised my assistants throughout our time here. What few of these machines remain, they know every crevice I've yet to uncover, and there's much left to find still..." Gargamel trailed off ominously.
"Hence, why I must learn what I can today and be gone from this place before it decides to grow tiresome of my meddling. Keep an eye on that entrance and don't decide to stray. Who knows what trap laden path lies beyond these walls."
Gargamel crept back to his work station and the darkened hall continued to stare back at Miroslaw.
His work seemed to be what was distacting the scholar as he continued to write in his notes and mutter incoherently to himself as if debating with his own theories. It was a short time later that he had reached some kind of epiphany, seen by the expression on his face, and reached for the control console in front of him.
The little old man seemed to become more childlike as he excitedly turned a few knobs and whistles on the machine in front of him. However, this excitement receded as his interaction with the console did nothing, other than make a few interesting noises. If anything was supposed to happen, it didn't. At least, it seemed that way at first.
"I don't understand, this crystal should be active. I wonder if it became damaged somehow..." Gargamel said to himself. He stared up at the massive rock in front of him whilst scratching his chin.
It was during this intense thought, if Miroslaw looked the scholar's way, the warrior would notice yet another darkened hallway appearing at the other far side of the room.
Then for the first time, a noise other than Gargamel began to crescendo from a whisper. It was the sound of skittering; what at first sounded like a few became many, perhaps hundreds of legs moving in one direction. The noise echoed all around the room as if whatever thing was making it was there with the explorers,perhaps under the floor or even inside the walls. It became louder to the point where it was almost unbearable.
Silence.
It was so sudden Miroslaw might have thought he let his paranoia get the best of him to an insane degree, but Gargamel looked around himself as well appearing terrified for the first time since they arrived.
"That never happened before..." he whispered.
At the sound of a loud clank of metal, both men turned around to find that the metallic sentinel wasn't quite dead. Barely being able to stand, the creature raised itself to an imposing height with sharp, clamp like appendages raised in front of it.
It was no taller than just below the chest level of the warrior and its body no bigger than that of a large dog or wolf. However the way the spider spread out its legs made it seem wider and more imposing. What Gargamel had mentioned about the sentinel being out of repair and ancient didn't seem far from the truth as its joints creaked louder than even the old man's.
The creature didn't seem to know that as it slowly moved toward Miroslaw with lethal intent. If the big, red glowing orb in the middle of its head didn't indicate that, it was probably the snapping of its clamps.
Last Edit: Dec 26, 2013 5:10:30 GMT -5 by Serenity
Miroslaw was beginning to loathe everything about this place. The fear only grew more heavy and unbearable as time went by. What if the path to the exit vanished with this deceitful labyrinth? He found it difficult to rid himself of that dreadful thought. Nevertheless he continued to stand vigilant.
His stress lessened as the time passed. Nothing seemed to be roaming in the darkness anymore. That was perhaps a trick of his mind... at least he hoped. He relaxed his posture and focused on more than just the newly appeared shadowy corridor. That was when Gargamel seemed to have found something. He hoped they would finally be able to leave this horrible place.
After a few actions, nothing seemed to happen and Miroslaw saw the disappointment in the old man. However, as he continued looking at the scholar, he saw another hallway appearing. His eyes widened at the sight as he moved his hands up to give them a quick rub. The hallway was indeed there. Another magical occurrence that he really didnt like. Perhaps it was the actions of the scholar that made it appear. He vocalized his theory to the old man, "I think you did indeed stumb..." He was interrupted by a noise and promptly halted his speaking before finishing his thought.
Even though it began only as a whisper, it was an alien noise in this forsaken and bizarre place inducing a tremendous amount of fear. His heart, once again, pounded in his head. He stopped breathing entirely, listening very closely. As it grew in noise, the warrior pulled his sword from its sheath on his back out of sheer fear. He proposed just loudly enough to be heard over the noise, "Old man! Perhaps you should undo whatever it is you have done!" The noise grew so loud the warrior was about to scream. Then.. nothing. The noise stopped, but the fear was still very present.
Then, after Gargamel assured him he was not just going mad from this maze, the situation became more dire. At the sight of the creature once thought dead now moving, he simply gasped to himself, "Have mercy." He stood, staring at the creature approaching, in complete fear for no more than second before his body began to move, almost on its own will. He already had his sword drawn, though he still wasn't sure if it would cut though these creatures. His grip was strong, despite his hands wanting to tremble. Many thoughts were racing through his mind, but his body was moving.
The only sounds were the rusty robots movements and Miroslaw's quickly accelerating footsteps as he charged forward. He sought to take advantage of the seeming lack of mobility in the metal spider. His charge is to the left of the being. As he ran he readied a strike, pulling his sword up and to the right of his torso. As he passed by the well worn creature he would sweep his sword down and hopefully into the creatures right legs. His aim was for the joint of the front leg, hoping it would be weaker and more susceptible to a blade. He was unsure until the point of collision whether an edge would do him any good.
Death is no more than turning us over from time to eternity. Whether that eternity is damnation or salvation is determined in the time we have.
As the creature tried to lunge forward at an advancing Miroslaw, it couldn't muster the mobility nor the agility to perform the feat. Taking advantage of its weakened state, the warrior managed to knock the spider on its side as it was incapable of turning fast enough to stop him. With a loud crash it fell and a few of its mechanical workings, nuts, bolts, fell out of its metal joints.
With one 'good' leg still on its left side, it tried to get back up only to fall on its belly once more. But the beast knew no heart or breath and attempted to get back up again despite its crippled state. Realizing that standing wouldn't do it any good, the spider attempted to drag itself, not toward Miroslaw, but toward the crystal.
It was only seconds after that the warrior noticed the metallic tappings of another arachnid behind him. Turns out he wasn't seeing illusions after all and the creature finally decided to step out of the shadows to confront the intruders. Though the creature appeared just as ancient, it seemed a tad more limber than its companion. With a quickened pace the spider set its scarlet orb on Miroslaw and charged at the warrior.
"There's another one over here!" cried Gargamel, as the other mysterious hallway poured out another sentinel.