Limbo pages all: Okay, we start then. As I recall, when last we met, you had all avoided death with the suitable applications of inadequate wings, met a matronly woman who sent you off to rescue her sisters in the big, evil citadel, and you'd just turned to run off thataway.
Sings-in-Shadow pages all: Erik is at the rear of the group, probably.
The plain affords little cover other than occasional juts of gray stone and a few scattered tree stumps. The citadel looms larger... and larger... and larger. And entrances of *any* sort -- front, back, or side -- seem scarce.
Athena follows Derrick in this-- he is the Scout. She does inspect the citadel as much as possible, trying to get an idea of its construction.
Sings-in-Shadow hobbles along at the rear. After a moment, though, the Fianna clearly decides that he can move more stealthily on two legs and shifts to homid form.
Falcon's Wing snorts, keeping to jutting stones when possible, maneuvering up to a stump close to the Citadel and pausing, blurring back into stability. ~No breaking up. Let's take a circuit around, check the place out.~
Athena agrees with her ears, moving closer to Falcon's Wing.
Erik nods silently.
It is a large, blocky creation, built with gigantic blocks of white marble veined in black. The walls are about twenty five feet high, topped with tall crenellations. Figures move along inside the wall, appearing at steady intervals through the gaps. None of them seem to take notice of the figures on the bleak landscape below.
Windows appear on the wall inside the guard wall, and one large gate seems at first to be the only gap in that outer wall. However, about two thirds of the way around the circuit, Athena spots a discoloration in a section of the wall, and closer examination reveals a low, concealed door.
Falcon's Wing reblurs, snuffling about, and immediately beams as Athena points it out. She did mention stealth, after all.
Athena stills, crouching before the door for a moment, glancing at Falcon's Wing for the next step.
Falcon's Wing shifts upwards. "I," he whispers, "Have a gift for gab. And breaking into locked things." He tries the door, first, just to make sure it's locked.
Oh, yes, it's locked.
From afar, Falcon's Wing uses handy dandy Open Seal.
On Derrick's second try of the door, it opens with a tiny hiss and a puff of dust.
Limbo pages all: And a hearty Hi-yo Silver.
Falcon's Wing blows on his fingers. "Still got it. Thanks, Dante," and Blurs again, slipping in the door and peering about.
Athena pads after Falcon's Wing, head lowered and hackles raised warily.
From afar, Athena takes this moment to point out the extra present Athena's knife gives her if you didn't know.
+gminfo athena
GM Info for Athena:
Athena's knife Shroudbreaker allows her to see in the dark, even through magic darkness like the gift Shroud, and does aggravated damage. The blade is made of diamond, forged in the Umbra. It also has something similar to Past Lives-- echoes of past actions taken by past owners are stored within the diamond blade, and if she is holding the knife and distracted or indecisive, the blade might make sudden decisions for her, based on past events.
You paged Athena with 'Okeydokey. :)'.
Dusty stays to guard.
The corridor rapidly gets low, almost too low to be comfortable for lupus. It is broad and very, very slick, as well as being quite dark. Through the floor and ceiling, you begin to feel, even before you hear, a heavy, mechanical thrum-thrum-thrum.
Derrick shifts down, quickly, ears flickering, continuing to press on.
Athena pauses to concentrate, letting her ancestors' fetish knife lend sight to her eyes. She indicates that she will go in front to stop us from walking blindly into blades.
Or that pit that's about ten feet in front of you.
Falcon's Wing lets Athena squeeze by him, happily.
Erik has, of course, shifted back downwards by now, due to the low ceiling. The Fianna is clearly starting to get slightly annoyed at the lack of foreleg.
Erik shifts into Lupus form.
Athena stops abruptly, nose twitching. She creeps to the edge of the pit in front of her, trying to determine if it is only a round hole that might be skirted, or a cessation of the path into a vertical tunnel.
The pit emits a louder thrumming sound, with a counterpoint of lighter machinery making a steady, complex rhythm. The edges around the pit are about six inches wide. Athena cannot see a bottom to the pit, but she can see that the tunnel ends in a blank wall not far beyond it.
Athena says in barely audible Garou, ~This pit, it goes down. And it hums. The tunnel beyond ends on the other side. I think it is a down-tunnel.~ She sounds vaguely troubled and looks up at the ceiling above the pit, hopefully.
Falcon's Wing says, Huh. Care to throw something at the wall beyond it to make sure?
Athena tilts her head this way and that, looking for something to throw.
Sings-in-Shadow rumbles softly. I do not want to jump again, if it's all the same with you.
Falcon's Wing offers, Want some of my food? Don't want to throw any of my other weaver toys.
Athena grumbles to herself and quietly takes on her homid form. Shr brushes her hands across the knife familiarly and then holds her hand out to Falcon's Wing.
Falcon's Wing shifts upwards, squishing considerably, and rummages in his pack, handing her a slightly squashed banana.
Athena hefts the banana, and then tosses it to the other side of the pit, aiming smack at the center of the wall.
Sings-in-Shadow swivels his ears forward, attentive.
The banana strikes the wall with a ripe splat and rolls off. There is a flicker of light around the edges, an infinitesimal change.
Athena frowns and hisses, "Something changed. A flicker. But it wasn't a mirage." She sounds faintly nervous. "I hope we didn't set off any sensors."
Athena pages: How wide is the pit?
You paged Athena with 'About six feet across... hard to jump when you can't get any height. There's those six inch ledges, though.'.
From afar, Athena smirks.
Athena pages: And those would be awfully hard to balance on four legs. :-)
You paged Athena with 'Umhmmmm. :}'.
Falcon's Wing looks down at what he can see if the pit. "That sounds fucking dangerous, that does. Wanna check if maybe more pressure'll do something with the wall, or just jump?"
Sings-in-Shadow sinks belly down to the floor and whines briefly. Try more pressure first?
Athena twitches. "I don't want to jump into the pit and fall blindly into something more dangerous than the ground. And we can't jump across."
Falcon's Wing takes out an apple and hands it to the Fury. "Heave it hard."
Limbo pages all: "This is strange, sir. These intruders seem... to be leaving a trail of smashed fruit..."
Falcon's Wing pages all: Hey, it's better than seeds. *twitter twitter munch*
Athena hefts the apple. She used to play baseball, she did, a year ago. An apple's not /too/ different. And so she hurls it at the wall as best she can in the limited room.
The apple strikes and explodes into a hundred pieces, but not before it clearly knocks a rotating panel about an inch ajar, letting in a stream of gray light. The panel swings shut again.
Falcon's Wing blinks at the light. "Ha. Do I guess or do I guess. S'how do we get over there? I mean," he looks at Athena, "/You/ wanna try balancin' on these edges?"
Athena frowns at Falcon's Wing. "Can't on four legs. Can't stand up tall enough for to balance on two. One of us should go crinos, the others should scamper across. I can do it. Or you can." Her voice is still a low, rushed hiss.
Falcon's Wing thinks on this for a moment, and shrugs. "Works. I got it," he says, and shifts to crinos. ~Go fast, eh? Want my back for future use.~
Athena pages: Are there any spikes or other dangers I neglected to notice in a desc that would make this plan fail?
You paged Athena with 'No, the pit is, as best you can tell, too deep to see the bottom.'.
Athena pages all: So Derrick is sort of spreading himself across the pit as a living bridge and the rest of us are scampering across and then helping him up again, oh GMly one.
Sings-in-Shadow pages all: Athena scampers. I scamper-hobble. Or something.
Without real difficulty, you transfer yourselves to the other side of the pit. Here, Athena can clearly see the edges of the concealed panel.
Falcon's Wing mutters, ~Being a bridge is not in my future,~ and shifts down to lupus again.
Athena thoughtfully pokes at the panel and then pulls it toward her if it doesn't burn her finger or anything.
Sings-in-Shadow sits down gingerly, his ears folded back against his skull.
The panel fails to do anything except open. The light floods in, dazzling you all, and when you blink your eyes clear, you see that you have traversed the thickness of the outer wall, and the open courtyard lays before you. Soldiers uniformed in gray march in clockwork patrols across and around the yard.
Athena's breath hisses in and she nestles herself against the wall of the tunnel. "I think at this point we should think where we want to be /going/."
Falcon's Wing blinks warily, and then says, Marvelous. Stealth. Yes, I rather agree. What were her exact words? Her children are... in the citadel? Was she more specific?
Sings-in-Shadow peers out at the soldiers nervously.
Athena corrects softly. "Her sisters. We're her children, temporarily. I wonder if they look like her, or if they're, y'know, owls."
Falcon's Wing meant, did she say anything about where in here they were. Or do we just have to blunder around?
Falcon's Wing pages: SW, btw.
You paged Falcon's Wing with 'No Wyrm here, sir.'.
Sings-in-Shadow shifts upwards, to human form. "If she /was/ Owl," he murmurs, with a thoughtful frown.
Athena doesn't answer, leaving it to the Galliard to remember. Instead, she studies the movements of the troops, eyes glittering as she applies her recent studies in tactics to the situation.
The troops move in a dreadfully regular pattern.
Athena pages: How much of the courtyard can we see? Are they patrolling or practicing parade? Are there other doors we can see we can get to?
You paged Athena with 'They appear to be patrolling, but are so precise that they appear to be on parade. You can see all of the courtyard that isn't blocked by the turn of the building. There are at least three doors you can see.'.
Falcon's Wing Blurs, and pokes his nose out, trying to figure out which way is the center of the citadel.
Athena shifts down into lupus herself. Wish I'd learned the better senses from Lightseeker, she murmurs to herself.
Erik remains in Homid, shoulders hunched, his skeletal face tight with apprehension.
Across the courtyard is the central (and only) building of the citadel. Three doors show on the wall closest. Every five minutes, a patrol of six soldiers march through the area on a varying and extremely complex pattern.
Erik leans over, peering out. His eyes track the patterns, studying. His face slowly grows distant and thoughtful. Calculating.
Falcon's Wing flexes his claws. Pick a door, Athena. Any door. Me'n my Gift'll get us in, if we can get past these people.
From afar, Erik flexes his Int 5 again to grok the pattern. :)
Long distance to Erik: Limbo ooooh, fractals. :)
Rends-the-Dark lowers her head. Order. Let's go to the left.
Erik moves his hand slightly and murmurs, "Wait." His eyes are still on the complex pattern of patrols. "I almost have it."
Falcon's Wing pauses. You want to get stuck in patterns, Sings?
Erik frowns. "Fractals," he murmurs. "Bloody hell, it's complicated." He goes silent a moment, apparently counting, and then nods. "I think I have it." His eyes twitch toward Athena. "We're heading for the left, you said?"
Falcon's Wing waits for Erik's mark.
Rends-the-Dark flicks her ears. Unless you think we should go elsewhere.
Erik pages: Do all the doors look about equally reachable/convenient in regards to the pattern of patrols?
You paged Erik with 'Pretty much, yes.'.
Erik moves his eyes back to the patrols. "Left will do," he says softly. His hand lifts. "Okay..." There's a pause of several seconds, and then, "Now."
Falcon's Wing breaks into a quick lope, shifting as he does so to crinos, the better to use hands with, and practically dives at the door, not even bothering to check before using his Gift on it.
Soldiers, some at the apogee of their patrol cycle, some still in the midst, react to the sight of the Garou sprinting across the courtyard. The closest drop to one knee and open fire with their carbines. The farthest break into a synchronized run.
Erik darts out after the Fang, moving with a long-legged, hunched-over, quick lope.
Rends-the-Dark runs next to Erik, shielding him with her body as much as possible, making sure he doesn't fall.
From afar, Falcon's Wing is of course Blurred.
You paged Erik with '1 agg. Not silver, Pattern-shatter.'.
You paged Rends-the-Dark with '2 agg. Not silver. Pattern-shatter.'.
Rends-the-Dark pages: Pattern shatter?
Erik pages: Ow.
You paged Rends-the-Dark with 'A magey thing of mine. Basically, it breaks the magical pattern of your energy flow. And all that ch'i stuff. ;)'.
Rends-the-Dark pages: Okay.
Derrick reaches the door and bursts it open, plunging through and inside as the bullets trace across his packmates. The other two reach the open door without further incident. You seem to be in a large kitchen.
Erik stumbles a bit as he gets hit and increases his speed, all but diving into the door after Derrick.
Falcon's Wing mutters, ~Gimme a fuckin' knife,~ and looks for other exits, hastily.
Rends-the-Dark shifts up into glabro and throws herself against the door, closing it behind herself after she's in and leaning on it.
Erik leans back against the wall, pressing his hand against his side where the bullet grazed him.
The door slams shut with a decisive click. The cooks huddle in the corner farthest from you, looking vaguely concerned.
The cooks seems to be huddling against the single visible door that doesn't seem to lead to a pantry.
Athena pages: How many? Ordinary human-looking?
You paged Athena with 'About a dozen ordinary human-looking grayfaced types.'.
Falcon's Wing shfts down quickly, and grins at the cooks, "C'mon," he says, persuasively, "We just want to get out the door, folks. We'll be leavin' right quick after that."
Falcon's Wing pages: Persuasion, I suppose.
Athena straightens up, slowly, hand pressed against her side-- the wound doesn't seem to be healing like she'd hoped. She smiles at the cooks, brilliantly, although it doesn't reach her eyes. "We're not going to hurt you" she says softly.
Athena pages: Persuasion here, too.
Erik keeps his head ducked low, even though he surely can't hide his hideous appearance from the cooks.
The cooks shift on their feet a little, but their huddle loosens. Then, after a moment, they simultaneously break away from the door, as if they made some telepathic decision. The path becomes clear just as the sounds of booted feet approach the outside door.
Falcon's Wing says, "Thankee, ma'am," and heads doorwards at speed, again not bothering with trying it before using his Gift.
Athena grins again at the cooks, her smile touching her eyes this time, and runs lightly over to the door, still holding her wound.
Erik mutters, "Uh, Derrick, I think-- oh, hell." He follows the others.
The hallway stretches away to your right as you emerge from the kitchen. You can see that it is intersected in three places, and then ends in a blank wall at the fourth intersection. There are doors scattered along the length. It seems to lead into the heart of the citadel.
Athena hisses at Derrick, "We can't keep running blindly. We do not know where we are going, we are not showing /wisdom/. Or intelligence."
Falcon's Wing lets Athena slam the door, and stares down the hallway. "What do you think, Erik?"
Erik hesitates, chewing fretfully on his lower lip. "The center, she said, yes?" He pauses. "We don't have a map... the place is either laid out to a plan, or randomly." He moves his hand, directing down the corridor. "We need to explore, systematically." He looks at Derrick. "Do you have something to mark the walls with? Or, er, some way to keep track of where we've been?"
Athena shrugs irritably. "Why don't we just ask somebody?"
There is an explosion of machinegun fire in the kitchen, and shrieks of wounded and dying people.
Athena jumps and whimpers, and starts running, heading towards the far intersection that is therefore the most central.
Falcon's Wing produces a knife from his pack, and then stares at Athena. "Doesn't that sort of defeat the... well, we already defeated it, come to think. I guess I could ask the next person I see, but," he says, metaphorical ear perking, "We'd probably just get shot. Lookit, we mark things first, and then ask someone who does't have a gun. C'mon," he says, belatedly, marks a small glyph on the wall, and bolts after her.
Erik follows his packmates, quickfoot.
The intersecting passages curve in the direction you're running, indicating that Athena's instinctive bolt was probably right. The door behind you bursts open as you pass the third intersection and make for the last.
Falcon's Wing marks another small glyph, Blurring himself, and bolts after.
Gunfire chatters down the hall, though the distance seems too great for accurate fire, and many bullets ricochet uselessly off the walls. You reach the end of the hall. You can go left or right.
Athena pages: Which way was it curling inwards?
You paged Athena with 'Both. These halls look like they're designed as circles.'.
Athena darts right without even seeming to think about it.
Falcon's Wing mutters, "What the hell ever," marks the wall, and follows her.
Erik brings up the rear.
The hallway curves to the left -- inward -- and rapidly, the inside wall becomes clear, looking over a large, sunken laboratory with great thooming machines, pistons and gears, dim lighting and monochrome workers.
Erik pulls up short at the sight, blanching visibly.
Derrick shifts into homid, and moves to ask one of the workers, a faint gleam in his eye, "Hello. Are you doing animal experimentation somewhere around here?"
Derrick pages: Persuasion, for I am lame.
The worker peers up at Derrick and shakes its head slowly, and returns to its random lever-pulling.
Athena hisses at Derrick. "Ask about captives."
Derrick grunts unhappily, and then asks, "You have any captives somewhere?"
Erik seems to have frozen, sunken green eyes fixed upon the workers with something very like horror.
Erik pages all: Erik goes tharn.
The worker looks up again, shakes its head unhelpfully, and returns to pulling levers in sequences.
Derrick grunts, and pokes Erik. "You got anything you wanna ask, or would you rather blow the place up?"
Erik flinches at the touch and looks at the ground. He shakes his head quickly.
Athena mutters. "What if they were done like Erik and Dusty? How're we going to find them then?"
Near the center of the laboratory, down in a pit, there is something that radiates light with some element of color to it.
Derrick snorts at the man and goes to ask another one, before he's drawn towards the pit. "Wha...?"
Athena lives up to her past actions and starts moving towards the glowing object, the colors. At least she's moving sort of slowly this time.
It is a glass -- or, at least, some kind of clear material -- cylinder, and its bottom opens into a green glade full of bright flowers.
Erik follows after some hesitation, doing his best not to look at the monochrome workers.
Derrick mutters, "What's a Fairy Ring doin' in here?" looking askance at Athena. "We ain't Weasel n'more, but're you in? I sure am."
Athena glances at Derrick blankly and goes back to gazing at the cylinder, clearly trying to see if she can get down into the green stuff somehow.
Derrick crouches down next to her. "Open sesame?" he says, watching her poke at it, obviously wanting to do so himself.
Erik ghosts up behind Derrick, sticking close to the Fang; the Fianna is clearly spooked.
There seems to be no convenient method for opening the top of the cylinder -- which is all you can reach, the rest being sunken into the floor.
Athena pages: How wide is it?
You paged Athena with 'About three feet across.'.
Derrick pages: Open Seal work in some obscure way, perchance?
Athena pages: Am I correct in assuming this is some kind of tunnel leading down to a nice pleasant (hah!) green place?
Long distance to Athena: Limbo nodsnods!
You paged Derrick with 'Hm. Nothing particular for Open Seal to work on. This place looks like it's been hermetically sealed.'.
Athena scratches her nails across the surface, thoughtfully. Then she pulls out her knife, and scratches a circle, slowly, with the gleaming transparent blade.
From afar, Athena looks apologetic. It's diamond.
You paged Athena with 'Fair.'.
The circle etches easily.
Athena then reverses the knife to tap gently at the etched circle with the pommel.
The circle drops into the pleasant greenness, and a rich scent of flowers and earth and growing things rolls out of the opening.
Athena glances up, looking pleased, and then hoists herself down into tunnel, letting herself drop down (assuming it's not another 200 ft drop).
No, this drop is only about 25 feet. And it's nice, soft, cushy green stuff.
Derrick says, "Ha. Good show," and drops down after her.
Erik follows his packmates. He seems relieved to get distance between himself and the disturbingly Weaverish people.
The drop through the clean, dustless air in the golden light, with perfumed breezes rushing past your ears becomes, abruptly, different. The clean air is still there, the golden light is still there, the perfume is still there, but something is different. You impact on the soft turf and roll to lie in the rich grass and realize: something is wrong.
Derrick scans around, uneasy, looking to see how far this odd pocket extends.
Erik shifts his weight, skeletal fingers twitching fretfully.
Well, that's the problem, see, Erik. Your fingers aren't skeletal. In fact, they're Derrick's fingers.
Athena listens for a moment, scents. She may not have heightened senses yet, but she knows that sometimes people are too quick to use their eyes. Ah.
Derrick twitches nervously.
Erik blinks and peers down at his own hand.
Derrick twitches and realizes that, well, he's a she. And Athena, um...
Derrick says, "Holy shit. I've got... I've got you!" he says accusingly to Athena.
Erik just kind of open and closes his -- well, Derrick's -- mouth, utterly and totally dumbfounded.
Athena sits up slowly, flexing her skeletal fingers in wonder. Her, yes. It takes more to strip away a Fury's femaleness than some strange spirit foo.
Derrick flexes a muscle, and looks terribly uncomfortable. "Um. Yeah. We're doing things here. We're focused. There's a point to this. Probably. Maybe."
Erik finishes staring at his hands and looks up. His gaze fixates on his face, er, Athena's face, well, what /used/ to be his face. Anyway, he stares at it with a kind of morbid fascination.
Athena touches her face gently, and flinches away, dropping her hand. Then she rises to her feet, gangly and awkward.
Erik drops his eyes, rubbing at the back of his neck with his left hand. Then he, too, rises, carefully.
A butterfly flits merrily past.
Derrick stumbles a few times, but, for lack of anything else to do, follows the butterfly.
A mob of butterflies decides that Derrick/Athena is fun and starts doing divebombs around his head.
Erik simply stares there like a fool, completely at a loss. He clears his throat a bit and says, "Er." At which point the difference in voice throws his train of thought off for a few more seconds.
Athena blinks at Erik and shivers. She doesn't even try to speak, moving to be closer to Derrick.
Derrick stops short, staring at the butterflies.