• Closed • A Cave of Wonder

[Part 2](Alistair) Now with the dangerous hike over, our treasure hunters seek riches from within!

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Patrick
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A Cave of Wonder

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Zi'da 67 716, Midday

Location: Continuation From Here

Tresah had been rather anxious around Alistair in their expenditure towards the cave, but now that they had arrived he seemed rather better now. Calmer and definitely composed after what he'd been told, since Alistair had given him plenty of hard time along the way. Regardless of the fact their journey being somewhat perilous, Patrick felt eager if not thrilled to discover what awaited inside. Hopefully they would just enter to find a grotto tucked within, scope out some interesting valuables, and then leave with the booty in their pockets before the day ended.

Naturally however Patrick's gut told him otherwise; and that it was likely a big fricken cave. With the entrance before them and Tres rooted into his notes, Patrick chuckled as Alistair took the lead and curiously followed the man inside. At first the terrain of the cave proved rugged but almost in a smooth manner, as what light provided from the outside showed much of the rock was smooth. Well smoother than most caves tended to be, almost as if the surfaces were actually made that way. "Trust me whatever we find might be worth it!" He mused as they walked deeper within, until they reached the end where a large carved door seemed to remain.

Elaborate designs which resembled runes and other unique patterns were carved on the door, as a small diamond shaped hole remained position within the middle. "Ah! We've found it alright!" Tres called out as he displayed sudden energy in his step.

"Treasure?! Beyond this door?!" Patrick eagerly inquired as he approached it and stood next to Tres, his hand placed on the surface as he looked up along the design. It definitely resembled that of an archway, with carved pillars on each side of the door. He began to wonder just who once crafted such an elaborate doorway, and then noticed Tres had pulled something out of his pocket. It was a... diamond shaped signet of a sort that matched the same quality of stone, with the same unique designs etched into it as well.

"Not just treasure my friend," Tres responded as he inserted the signet into the hole, "but an ancient sight thought lost to the ages!" When the key fully rested within the whole wall suddenly vibrated, Patrick felt the cool moist rock under his hand hum while the door started to light up. The runes and patterns all glowed a vacant blue hue; as the stone door cracked loudly, and then slowly opened outwards with a sluggish grind of stone against stone. Other the other side was a descent of carved stairs, which only led into pitch black due to the lack of light.

"An ancient site huh? There best be somethin' valuable fer us t' bring back." Patrick muttered with arms crossed briefly, as he felt cool moist air permeate their presence. Tres then pulled out a lantern from his pack along with a tinderbox, and thankfully after a few tries managed to illuminate the cavern before they began their descent. As they walked down the stairs Patrick noticed something, a object that looked rather useful in this sort of situation. "Hey, wait a trill! Lemme see that tinderbox." He insisted as he held a hand out to Tres, shortly afterwards Patrick managed to ignite a torch for him to carry.

"Thanks mate!" He added as he tossed the box back to Tres, who practically failed to catch it at the time. Their descent brought them into an elaborate hall with carvings upon the wall, much of it looked a little worn, but overall the depictions looked to be from an ancient time. "Wow," Patrick remarked as he held the torch at an angle, "So people actually lived here?"

"Sort of." Tres answered as they reached the end to find yet another stone door, this one looked large and round however. That and there were once again carvings and runic markings, all which tied to something within the middle. Some sort of metallic panel that had three different rings, with three types of animals embroidered upon them. A wolf, a bear, and then an owl. "This was a cloister from the looks of things, where their pilgrims came to prove their faith."

"Prove their faith?" Patrick reiterated curiously.

"It's complicated," Tres sighed as he inspected the panel closely, "there was this tribe that worshiped spirits within the Emea. Even had a very special relationship with them, sights like this were places typically sanctuaries; where the faithful came to commune with these spirits."

"And now?"

"Well now they're... dead. So we're having to look for the pattern that opens this door." Tres explained as he looked back along the hallway. "Look and see if you can pick out anything from the walls, they're no doubt likely stories that the tribes were associated with. May even have the answer we need to open this door." Upon doing so Patrick approached whatever wall Alistair didn't choose, and slowly began to inspect the depiction to see if he could make anything specific out.
word count: 869
"Freedom is everything."


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A Cave of Wonder

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As they endeavored through this ruin, Alistair's interest waxed and waned. It was no... Seraas, to be sure. Seraas en Avellach, or Mindrender, was a ruin fit for the intrigue of the Gods. There were countless tales told on those walls, of ancient civilization. Of the Immortals. Of the secrets that bound Idalos to its current state. This ruin was certainly an amicable replacement, however, for the time being. Alistair always enjoyed inspecting ancient things; they appealed to him far more than those things of the world around them. These animals - the wolf, the owl, the bear - they meant something more than being merely animals. He remembered words said to him before, long ago, in the Ancient Tongue.

"A story is never just a story. It is filled with allegory. With lessons. With imagination, and even memories; perhaps of things that had passed. Or things yet to pass. Ana bel'aa sefen alah. Teios mei akhen zanta. Teios meifen, ala dentos; nufira sandara ye zeltan. Mephala es te bataan."

Back then, he did not understand the words. Still, he did not fully grasp the literal translation, and he certainly could not internalize the proper accent. But those words meant something to him now, and he understood now why they had been told to him in the Ancient Tongue.

Because in truth, it spoke more to the stories of the old world than those of the new. Now, an owl was merely an owl. Back then, an owl was a symbol for wisdom. A wolf was a symbol for strife, or blood. A bear was a symbol for strength and durability.

"Ana bel'aa sefen alah," he repeated those ancient words. A story is never just a story. "Patrick," the mage called for his partner, turning to glance at him. "This story . . . should be read the way it is meant to be read. It is a story of wisdom, blood and conflict, and strength and durability. Wisdom does not result in blood and conflict, so the owl does not precede the wolf. Strength and durability do not find themselves necessary to such a degree before conflict takes place. So the wolf came first - a wandering facet of death. Then the bear . . . the ability to survive that pain and adversity. And then the owl, who can restore the wounds of war and herald peace and unity with their patience and wisdom. This may not be correct, but this is how I would have read it." He stepped over to the wolf, and ran his hand across the images. The man seemed enthralled, almost.

"Perhaps this place, lost to the ages, was once the site of a great conflict . . . and the wise ones left. Formed a different path - a city outside of this place. Ne'haer, Lysoria, Treth, et cetera; these places scattered around Lake Rea are the product of those seeking better lives. Maybe these men and women here sought a better life outside of this . . . isolation." He searched for something - some sort of panel, or a puzzle. Something that would open the way for discovery. He knew the ancient ones were always hesitant to offer their greatest to those unwilling to resonate with the complexity they wished to display.

"I wonder if they knew any magic . . ." he thought aloud. "Old magics were generally more primitive, but in some cases, they were more advanced. They often had more risk involved. And sometimes . . . more reward."

word count: 573
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Patrick couldn't help but frown a little as he looked closely at the markings along the wall, the etched works of art that held some long forgotten meaning he couldn't receive. From the looks of it there were the three figures of the animals, which were the same as the ones on the circular device located on the door. At the top of the mural was the wolf depicted in a pack which faced the bear, while in the background above the owl appeared to fly overhead in aspect. Did the mural have an allegory he didn't seem to catch? Or was the mural actually telling a story he couldn't read into?

Alistair seemed pretty interested in the theory of what this tribe did, rather more or less the philosophy in which they likely lived. Truth be told the musings of the rant intrigued Patrick as he watched then man, stared intently to the mage while he listened to the ramble. "By the Seven." He thought to himself quietly as he felt the urge to just bombard the man, of course with kisses and a handful of teases due to how aroused he felt. Actually Patrick had never felt so stimulated by such intellect truth be told, therefore it stood to reason that Alistair certainly had a unnatural effect on him.

Yet the story Alistair told of the three animals and the order in which they followed, brought a sense of suspicion within Patrick as though he'd felt a revelation. An idea towards the stone panel that rested upon the door, while Tres seemed vividly engrossed with his own notes. "Ya don't say..." He finally mused before he moved along to stand beside Tres, his eyes focused on the notes the scholar had been studying. There appeared to be writing that described the place they were in, and the cloister in which held the big door within. There was even a drawing of a circle with two inner rings, one that much resembled the panel in front of them. "The wolf, the bear, and then the owl." He reiterated to himself in a low mumble, while Tres glanced from his notes at Patrick a couple of times.

Likely though the drunkard was a little bit out of his mind, yet Patrick had suddenly developed a hunch thanks to these two. "W-wait, what are you doing?" Tres inquired nervously as Patrick pressed a hand on the outer ring of the panel, and then with a slight nudge the grind of stone echoed in the hall, as the ring briefly moved under the weight of his hand; until a click caused it to stop. "Fates help me!" The scholar sounded horrified for a moment, his eyes quickly darted all around as though something awful might jump out at him. "Do you realize that you could've set off a trap?"

"Oh. Whoops." Patrick muttered warily as he looked back down at the panel, by now the wolf was on top so all that remained was to move the other two. With the middle ring pressed Patrick twisted it to the left, until the bear was at the center and another click echoed behind the door. "Or... I could be openin' the door." He mused with a cheeky smirk as he repeated the process with the inner ring, after the owl reached the center of the panel the diamond hole in the middle clicked as well. For a moment they just stood there waiting for something to happen, yet the door didn't seem to budge at all in that time. "Okay. So maybe?..." Patrick pressed on the panel but it didn't budge, so a closer inspection followed as he looked within the hole. Pitch black from what he could see, yet when he reached in to feel around, something cool and moist resided deep within the door.

"Yech." He uttered in disgust as his fingers brushed the surface a couple of times, finally when he grappled whatever he felt and pulled, the sound of stone budging made him pull back as the door finally activated before them. "There we go!" He cheered as he turned to look at Alistair, and of course wipe his hand on Tres' shoulder in doing so. "Great story mate, yer gonna have t' tell me more after we're done here." He teased with a wink even though he naturally wanted to hear more, right now however treasure awaited within the next room! When the way was finally opened the group continued onward, up a short bit of stairs into a square chamber with unlit braziers as well as other intriguing gizmos.

Within the center of the room was this large glyph etched into the floor, with four crystal like orbs positioned in various locations of the glyph. Each location resembled that of the direction of a compass, as Patrick could easily determine that well enough. As for their purpose however that remained to be discovered. "Take it there's one final puzzle 'til we get the treasure?"

"It appears so," Tres remarked as he looked into his next set of notes, "in order to clear this one... it looks like we have to activate these orbs. Triggering all of them at the same time should be what we need pass the final trial." He surmised as he changed glances between Patrick and Alistair; no doubt leaving it up to the two of them to accomplish this somehow.
word count: 927
"Freedom is everything."


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A Cave of Wonder

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"Ironically," he began, "I agree with Tresah to an extent. We shouldn't be making early judgments - all of the options should be explored before we make any attempts or take any risks. Old ruins are notorious for their . . . unique dangers." That was especially so in Ne'haer, which so loved - historically - to lay their treasures and effigies behind whole mazes of lethal dangers.

Regardless, he was pleased to see that Patrick trusted his intuition, and it turned out that his assertions were correct - which was a positive. It meant that all of his academic research into ancient societies didn't mean nothing. Perhaps he should get more into ruin-delving into the future; he seemed to have at least half of the cards in his hand. But only half, as the secondary puzzle was something he didn't understand immediately. The mage scratched his head, and peered through the room, looking at every corner and every inch of each wall. As he looked around, he noticed Patrick staring at him every so often.

It was a look he recognized, as he knew the man's desires well. His cheeks flushed slightly, as a slight smile graced his lips and he turned his head away, focusing on the puzzle. Tresah didn't seem to notice either of their sporadic flirtations.

The first thing he did was to touch the glyph. Nothing. He wasn't sure which magic drew this glyph, but it was possible that this puzzle was the result of a Dustforger, or even an Ensorceller. It really was more likely the former, but he didn't know if ancient or older magics had any unique variations that could have stretched the boundaries between the two. Possibly, these pillars were in fact a sort of altered conduit, which could have meant that the puzzle relied on both magics in tandem. He was unsure.

After rising to his feet from his inspection of the glyph, he touched one of the pillars, and the orb atop it - the obelisk - lit up and gleamed through the room. Stepping to another one, the same result. If the goal was to light up all four at the same time, then they merely needed four people. Alistair could have attempted to touch both at once via rupturing, but if for any reason his portal collapsed, he'd be carved in half. It was highly unlikely, virtually zero percent in possibility, but there was no reason to take any risks.

And, he hadn't brought his minions with him . . . so this left only one option, really. Thinking entirely outside of the box, though not far outside the idea of retrieving his minions from afar; it was just a different sort of minion he sought.

The man snapped his fingers, and a portal opened. Ali looking into its depths, he could see a solemn street of Ne'haer, with few crossing. Some of the peasantry seemed to react freakishly to the sudden opening of a portal, with one lady falling back and throwing all of the groceries she'd bought up into the air, only for them to fall atop her chest as her rear end hit the ground. The mage almost laughed, peering through.

He began to use pulling, a unique ability of Rupturing. It was one he'd used a few times this day alone.

The lady's vegetables and loaf of bread flew through first, entering one side of the portal from the other. Alistair suspended them into the air with energy as they came through. The woman, seemingly desperate, rose to her feet and embraced the pull; she wanted her groceries. Appearing on the other side, she eyed the men in the room and held her hand to her chest. "Don't die from shock, woman," he said. "You won't be able to help us solve this predicament if you're dead."

Patrick and Tresah were likely shocked beyond reason at this point, with Alistair abducting a random woman off the streets of Ne'haer to partake as the fourth person . . . but it was the easiest option he could think of.

"What is your name?" he asked her. She seemed in shock, almost; entirely stunned by everything around her. Luckily, the portal had appeared before one of the pillars, and so with her grabbing onto the obelisk to hold her balance as she dealt with her confusion, the path would be lit up and they'd be able to pass through.

"Nevermind," he said. "Take your vegetables and go, woman." The lady slowly nodded her head, grabbing her . . . levitating veggies . . . and stepping through the portal. She'd done her job. Now all that was left was to retrieve the treasure at last.

"I hope you don't mind my kidnapping of a woman off the streets, but I wasn't content to seek to retrieve a fourth person willingly. And it's not like we harmed her, really; it was a positive experience altogether. She'll have a wondrous story to tell her fourteen peasant babes once she arrives at her pigsty." He smirked, anything but charming.

Looking to Patrick, he nudged him forward, to collect the treasure at last.
word count: 868
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Patrick watched a little closely when it came to Alistair inspecting the runes and markings of the glyph, so far the nature of this puzzle remained simple but at the same time... problematic. From what Tres had told they were to activate these obelisks all at once, a feat that could be done but only with the right amount of timing and coordination. After all both Alistair and Patrick were Rupterer's, therefore if they could just blink then perhaps... well maybe it could work?

Patrick had more or less moseyed over to one of the obelisks, his hand hovered over it briefly and then withdrew upon its glimmer. So they needed only mere touch to activate it seems, but how on Idalos were they to touch all four at the same time? "Maybe you and I-" Alistair's mind already seemed one step ahead of him to say the least, only his solution seemed a bit more resourceful compared to Patrick's. Rather than waste time and take chances on risk, Alistair merely pulled from within the street an older woman. Somebody who had next to no part in their little misadventure, and now all of a sudden had been brought up in the middle of their trial.

Patrick couldn't help but watch in amusement while Tres went awe in a horrified look, quick to listen to Alistair as he'd been pointed to the only obelisk left for him to activate. When all four were alight their constructs glimmered from the top down to their base, and soon afterwards the markings of the glyph glowed a faint blue as the central circle slowly split open. From within a large sarcophagus was raised into the center of the room, while the lady had been relieved of her duty as fourth party of trial. "Slap me ass an' hand me t' me mama, we actually did it!" Patrick muttered while the group drew close to the sarcophagus.

"Gimme a hand would ya?" He asked Alistair while Tres stood nearby in fascination of their achievement. It took a minute before the surface gave way to their push, as more hefty stone grounded together until the lid finally revealed half the contents. Inside was three particular objects among with a poorly preserved body, the carcass of what once had to have been some kind of woman perhaps. Her arms were folded with a book rested within them, with a ornate crystalline chalice resided in one hand, and then some ancient ceremonial dagger within the other.

"Yes! This is exactly what we're here for!" Tres enthused as he knelt down to carefully ease the chalice, his eyes skeptically glanced between it and the face of the carcass; as though he didn't wish to disrespect the dead or suffer her wrath. "And that is that!" He exclaimed with the chalice now in his possession. "Thank you gentleman. As promised this is your payment," He mentioned as he tossed a coin pouch towards Patrick, "you've done a wonderful job here. Erm... Alistair?" He inquired as he pointed next to him, pretty much silently asking for a portal to return him back to Ne'haer.

"Can't believe it," Patrick murmured while he pocketed the reward, "We literally came 'ere t' dig up an old crypt." While he might've sounded a bit disappointed, Patrick certainly looked in wonder within the sarcophagus. After all he became vividly curious about this woman, who she probably was and what her purpose had been. Why did they bury her here? What role did she play in her life? For what reason did her people leave her buried here, with some fancy chalice and a couple of other things? "Guess it doesn't matter much now, I only hope she don't come back t' haunt us later." He joked as he rose to his feet, unsure if he wanted to take the dagger or not.
word count: 668
"Freedom is everything."


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As the men convened to open the casket, they discovered a rotted and skeletal corpse holding three objects within her final resting place: a chalice, a ceremonial dagger, and a book. Of course, Alistair's eyes were immediately drawn to the book, and after allowing Tres to take the chalice... he took it within his hands and began to read. The mage barely paid attention to Tres handing Patrick the payment, his eyes locked on the text drawn in strange, almost glyph-like letters. As if every word were a piece of art, or an incantation.

Drawn in nevertheless, he continued to turn the pages of the musty tome, before he realized that his focus had been far too squandered. It was rude to just . . . ignore Patrick to read some old book, so he closed it, exhaling. "Can't let myself get too excited," the nobleman muttered, recollecting himself. As for the corpse, well... Alistair shrugged. "As a necromancer, I know quite a lot about corpses, as well as disturbing them. The dead so rarely seem bothered by disruptions to their resting place, or even the physical body they left behind. The chance of her even attempting to haunt us is quite low... and since I have magic, I can deal with it accordingly." He spoke quite seriously, despite the fact that Patrick probably meant the haunting thing as a joke.

The barkeep would probably realize, there, that Alistair had indeed dealt with wrathful spirits of the dead before. In fact, he'd dealt with one just last season . . . an undead spirit of exceptional power. A mage who, at one point, had rivaled Ellasin. Alistair was not afraid of some ancient wench, who in all likelihood wasn't even a practitioner of the ethereal domains.

"You may keep the money," Alistair said, glancing at Patrick from the corner of his eye. He opened a portal to allow Tresah through, though made sure - as his final jest - that it was out in the fields a ways off from the city. That was the man's punishment for being such a drab, unexceptional ponce.

Turning to his partner, the man placed his arms behind his back. "It's chilly in here," he said, blowing cold wind from his lips, the frosted breath wisping against Patrick's cheek. The nobleman smiled faintly. "Well," he said. "That was quite fun, actually. I'd love to do it again sometime. I haven't told you this, but exploring old ruins is actually one of my favorite things to do. I used to travel about Nora's crypt all the time as a young one. My family advised me strongly against it, as it's quite literally haunted . . . but Nora is my ancestor. I think perhaps she knew that I was her own, and so she did not do me harm." He recalled those days fondly, of course. Those were the moments where he'd grown to understand who he really was.

An explorer. An intellectual. The idea of meeting ghosts, even if friendly, brought him far less euphoria than the idea of reading upon some dusty, ancient tome. He had always been one to respond well to information, above anything. He supposed he would have fit well with a follower of Yvithia, in that respect.

"I can't say the spirits of these ruins won't do us any harm, however . . . but alas," he shrugged. Stepping closer to Patrick, he offered him a kiss - in victory.

"Anyway, thank you," the man said with a pleased look. "Do you want to go home now, Patrick?" he asked. "I'm cold. And shocking as it is to say, for once I'd rather be huddling beside the hearth than unearthing ancient secrets. Maybe I've become soft."
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Seeing as how the other men were quite happy to find something they liked out of this, Patrick gave in a allowed himself to take the ceremonial dagger that remained within the sarcophagus. To his surprise Pat quickly realized the dagger to be quite heavier than any normal dagger, and that its shape much resembled that of the diamond keyholes they'd encountered thus far. Was this really a dagger then? Or was it a key to something?

Perhaps it wasn't a weapon at all but a tool, or just an artifact with no real purpose at all. Patrick watched briefly and then chuckled at Alistair's excitement, he clearly was a true scholar deep beneath that exterior of his. Intellectual. That aspect of him had been one of the first things that Pat admired, and every time it displayed itself the drunkard couldn't help the attraction towards it. With the departure of Tres from their party Patrick rose to a stand with the unusual dagger slid into his pocket, a warm smile shot to Alistair as he listened to the man speak of fun in doing this.

"Aye, this was definitely quite fun." He agreed with another short laugh as he drew close to the man, naturally his eyes drifted from the coffin to Alistair's face. When they drew together for the big 'victory kiss' that Alistair initiated, Patrick made sure to tease the man hard; with a hand grasped at the hair on the man's head and some fiercely wicked tongue thrown in. "Home then? Aye we can definitely go home and call it a day, although I'm pretty sure I can change that soft aspect 'bout ya." He teased further with a brush of his hand down Alistair's abdomen, of course when they were to return back to their room, Patrick had other things in mind to warm their cold bodies.

Regardless of what intentions he had their job had proven a vivid success, and sure enough Tres would likely remark upon the good (and bad) things he experienced along the way. The thought of their discovery being made public rather excited Patrick, as he somehow found a new sudden thrill in the aspect of exploring ruins; in search of lost treasures kept hidden from the world.
word count: 394
"Freedom is everything."


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Alistair


Awarded Points

Story: 5/5
Collaboration: 5/5
Structure: 5/5
These points can/cannot be spent in magic


Awarded Knowledge

History: Tales Written on Walls
Storytelling: Pictures Tell Stories
Treasure Hunting: Be Careful of Booby Traps
Treasure Hunting: Caves


Awarded Extras

Loot & Losses Injuries
+1 Book None
Fame Devotion
Magic use: -2 None
Abduction a woman: -2
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Patrick


Peer Review

Story: 5/5
Collaboration: 5/5
Structure: 5/5
These points can/cannot be spent in magic


Awarded Knowledge

Alistair: Willing to Use Innocent Bystanders
History: Tales Written on Walls
Sanctuaries: Where Pilgrims Prove their Faith
Storytelling: Pictures Tell Stories
Treasure Hunting: Be Careful of Booby Traps
Treasure Hunting: Caves


Extras

Loot & Losses Injuries
Coin pouch: +35gn None
+1 Ornate Dagger
Fame Devotion
None None
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Comments

I really enjoyed reading this thread, it was lovely and engaging and it's been a while since I've seen a straight up treasure hunt :)
Not loads to award here but if you think I missed something, please let me know!

If you have any questions, comments or criticism about your review, feel free to send me a PM and we can discuss it.
Thank ye.
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