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Author Topic: Our Salvation: It Is Written  (Read 259092 times)

Harry Baldman

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Re: Our Salvation: Returning Dark
« Reply #705 on: February 29, 2016, 06:46:22 pm »

I knew it was catacombs! What could be down here? Maybe a long dead hero, his magical sword awaiting the day it can save the castle once more. I really hope that's it. I slide the lid off the sarcophagus and step aside in case it's trapped.

[The Weight of the Ages: 3]

The lid is really quite extraordinarily heavy, being made of solid stone and also quite thick - perhaps it was never meant to be opened at all, you think as you manage to make it budge just a little bit to your side. Goodness. Lifting this would be difficult for three people, let alone one solitary person who can't even see what they're doing.

It takes the better part of ten minutes to get a foot-wide gap that ought to get you inside of the thing, though without poking in a hand to get a feel for the contents you dare not venture to guess what could be inside it. You do, however, become aware of an oddly sweet scent. You jump back at first, thinking it's probably some kind of poison trap. The smell doesn't really make you bleed from your eyeballs, evacuate your bowels or lose your mind (though how would you tell, really), so you begin to have reasonable doubts after a few moments.

Thomas was silent for a moment.  These folks were singularly united in their unhelpfulness.

"So why are these stout fellows out there anyway?  What did someone do to make them mad?"

A change of tactic.

[A Grounding In History: 2]

It's a matter of principle, says the majordomo. They said they were going to eradicate the royal house of Benzerwald once and for all and create the world's first stout state, so they've been fixing to do that. Depressingly successfully for the most part, he notes grimly.

Last try.
Douse fire in the rat-water, attempt to rip off strips from hopefully now fire-damaged and relatively easily tearable sacks

[You Think That's Water You're Pouring: 6]

The rat-water is pleasingly non-flammable, you find. You do need to find several pots of it, but with the filth of this place it's not hard to find reasonably similar batches of filth among the myriad pots. Collecting the least dangerous-smelling ones you pour them over the flames, the heady cocktail of murine corruption extinguishing the flames as it hardens into a cohesive airtight whole over your intended loot.

"Oh fer fuck's sake. Well, now what?"

Jack looks down at his side.

"Y'know, that does not hurt nearly as much as you'd expect something like that to. Maybe I just need to focus my mind on healing it or something, it's not like I can deny there's mind powers here after all."

Go head inside the chapel once more, sit down for a while, and concentrate on my wound healing.

You step over a fainted priest as you sit down in one corner of the drafty chapel, wondering if you're actually in all that bad a shape. Are your wounds so grievous? Is your predicament so terrible? Can you put off having to see the doctor for quite a while longer?

All very good questions. You think you're pretty all right mostly. You don't really need two kidneys, as the old organ marketeer saying goes. You experimentally unclamp your hand from your side and proceed to not bleed to death. That's practically proof right there, you think.

I remember falling, so it probably was from top. Hmm.
Knock around. Maybe there's a hidden switch or something. Failing that, feel up the hole I'm in, get a proper idea it's shape.


[You Keep A-Knockin': 2]

There doesn't really appear to be any hidden switch up here, and your knocks are met with only silent disapproval from up above. It's not fair to go over the monthly knock limit, you see.

As for the hole you're in, it reminds you of an elongated delicious ice cream cone. The kind where the ice cream swirls, the grooves coming up to the top in a bulbous fashion. Except you're on the inside of it, and it's made of wood, and it's not terribly welcoming, delightfully cool or even particularly delicious. You say all this from experience.

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Xantalos

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Re: Our Salvation: Returning Dark
« Reply #706 on: February 29, 2016, 06:58:33 pm »

"Hell yeah, I'm fine. Now then, how to get that sun window without breaking it.
...
Oh, there's that priest! Maybe he can help."


Wake the priest up without killing or hurting him. If I manage this, ask him how he got those stained glass windows in here. And how one could possible remove them without shattering them.
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penguinofhonor

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Re: Our Salvation: Returning Dark
« Reply #707 on: February 29, 2016, 08:56:57 pm »

Well, I've done plenty of worse things today than touch a dead body. I reach in and grab anything that does not feel like part of a corpse. Something swordy would probably be ideal.
« Last Edit: March 01, 2016, 02:22:38 pm by penguinofhonor »
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AoshimaMichio

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Re: Our Salvation: Returning Dark
« Reply #708 on: March 01, 2016, 01:39:59 am »

"Hey wench, what knock limit? I didn't sign up for this kind trap play. I'm not staying here for a month! And I kinda don't like this darkness here. I have bad experiences with those, even if this one actually has eyes."

INEVITABLE escape, or at least change in situation. Got stoats to visit.
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Re: Our Salvation: Returning Dark
« Reply #709 on: March 01, 2016, 01:19:40 pm »

"And what'd the Benzerwaldians do to them?  Why would they make a entire state based on a poorly-chosen descriptor of stature?"


More silly questions
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HMR stands for Hazardous Materials Requisition, not Horrible Massive Ruination, though I can understand how one could get confused.
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Re: Our Salvation: Returning Dark
« Reply #710 on: March 01, 2016, 02:20:05 pm »

This is getting beyond belief. At least I didn't drop all the sacks there, did I? I think?
Wedge a shard of glass upright where possible, cut a sack open on it.
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I would ask why fire can burn two men to death without getting hot enough to burn a book, but then I read "INEXTINGUISHABLE RUNNING KAMIKAZE RADIOACTIVE FLAMING ZOMBIE" and realized that logic, reason, and physics are all occupied with crying in the corner right now.

Harry Baldman

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Re: Our Salvation: Returning Dark
« Reply #711 on: March 02, 2016, 02:52:46 am »

"Hell yeah, I'm fine. Now then, how to get that sun window without breaking it.
...
Oh, there's that priest! Maybe he can help."


Wake the priest up without killing or hurting him. If I manage this, ask him how he got those stained glass windows in here. And how one could possible remove them without shattering them.

[To Recall The Spirit: 3]

You shake the priest intently, eager to get his input on your grand ambitions of theft. He is entirely limp in your hands, looking like he's suffered quite a bit in his time. Mostly he seems quite burnt. And also somewhat unresponsive, even after he opens his eyes and looks off into the space right behind you. You ask him if he perhaps feels like helping you out with stealing that other window over there. Wouldn't want something to happen to it like with the other one, now would he?

It is to no avail, however. The priest makes no acknowledgement of your request, merely looking bewildered as he ineffectually struggles in your arms, weak as a kitten even without comparison to your own uncoupled abilities.

Well, I've done plenty of worse things today than touch a dead body. I reach in and grab anything that does not feel like part of a corpse. Something swordy would probably be ideal.

[Ominous Contents: 2]

You reach into the sarcophagus with both hands, searching it by sense of touch. There ought to be something of value in there somewhere.

A corpse is found readily enough, transformed by the ages. Its arms and legs jut upwards with unexpected rigor, pressing upon the lid passively, the entire stiff body locked into a position suggestive of a desperate attempt at escape, its limbs holding fast and oddly fibrous beneath a layer of what you think is ceremonial armor, now cracked and largely fallen apart. Through the cracks along the corpse's entire surface you feel small bulbs jutting out, fruiting bodies in full bloom erupting from the joints where the armor is thinnest and the mouth and eyes hidden beneath a broken clay death mask. The chest of its ancient suit in turn appears to have been broken by sheer persistence and weathering, a large fungal forest running from chin to pelvis having broken out through the layers of bronze, enveloping what you think may have once been a zweihander resting across its front.

The corpse lays there on a fuzzy bed of overgrown mold that coats the entire inner surface of the sarcophagus, feeling a lot like dust before you run your fingers over conspicuous little orbs of spores that deflate at the slightest touch. You are most unsurprised when you find the sarcophagus to be compromised at one end, a crack in the bottom right next to the corpse marked by a conspicuous eruption of what feel like a myriad species of subterranean fungi, most of which you think you've found already in other spots along the sarcophagus. Some are dry, some are damp, and some feel unsettlingly hard and sharp.

You elect to pull back, the corpse's possessions seemingly as much a part of the corpse now as its arms and legs. The sweet, mildly earthy scent of the sarcophagus lingers over your hands and forearms.

"Hey wench, what knock limit? I didn't sign up for this kind trap play. I'm not staying here for a month! And I kinda don't like this darkness here. I have bad experiences with those, even if this one actually has eyes."

INEVITABLE escape, or at least change in situation. Got stoats to visit.

When your eyes have failed you, you'll use your head and hands. And when that fails, you'll damn well keep trying until your teeth fall out. Nothing will keep you from your goal. Whatever that is. You possibly forget.

INEVITABLE

[Word: 3]

The top is not the way out. You see yourself try for hours - every combination leads to the same result, nothing. What little manipulation is possible serves only to distract and to mislead.

You turn to the bottom. Much more promising down there. Eight different panels along the walls, each leading to a different crawlspace which in turn leads into unknown darkness. A single larger panel, hidden relatively poorly along the bottom wall, reminiscent of a regular door in size. A puzzling configuration of tiles on the wooden flooring at the bottom - you see yourself trying at it for interminable lengths of time and failing throughout. Or are you failing? You think something happens, but nothing you can feel.

"And what'd the Benzerwaldians do to them?  Why would they make a entire state based on a poorly-chosen descriptor of stature?"


More silly questions

[A Very Silly Question: 4]

Stoutness breeds true, he says. Truer than humanity. And stout folk are quite mad generally, you know. Was really a matter of time before they erupted from their stout-towns, all thirsting for the blood of righteous folk. The king tried his best, bless his departed soul, but by that point it was not enough, and the cities began to fall.

"The Sun set on the state of Benzerwald as stout men chased the royal house to the ends of the earth, eager to end them as an idea, to erase the thought of their former lords from the parlance of the time," he grimly recounts. His daughter wrote that, you know. She was one of the court chroniclers back when there was a court. He was so very proud of her.

This is getting beyond belief. At least I didn't drop all the sacks there, did I? I think?
Wedge a shard of glass upright where possible, cut a sack open on it.

[Clever Manipulations: 4]

The best thing about a stone floor, you decide, is the ample space for sticking things into the cracks. There are plenty of those, especially between blocks, and one of them proves large enough for one of your smaller glass shards. That done, you drag over one of the remaining sacks of gold and carefully slice it along the protruding bit of glass.

In an unexpected twist, this does actually appear to work, resulting in a thorough gutting of the sack and a generous spilling of gold. You probably could have opened the sack first, of course, and emptied it of gold beforehand so as to minimize risk of the shard breaking under the weight. But you suppose this works too.

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« Last Edit: March 02, 2016, 03:00:23 am by Harry Baldman »
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Xantalos

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Re: Our Salvation: Returning Dark
« Reply #712 on: March 02, 2016, 03:13:46 am »

"Priest guy? Priest guy, wake up. This is more important than you trusting the wrong guy with prophecy powers and getting nearly incinerated. C'mon, grit your teeth! Answer my questions!"

Attempt once more to wake the priest up so he can give me advice on thieving yonder window. If he doesn't respond still, leave him be for now and take a look at said window. Is there a frame it could be lifted out of? Is it bolted in place? Basically inspect it for how to best take it out in one piece.
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penguinofhonor

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Re: Our Salvation: Returning Dark
« Reply #713 on: March 02, 2016, 06:09:49 am »

Gross.

I leave the alcove and walk away from the wall, aiming to cross the middle of the room. I stop when I find anything interesting.
« Last Edit: March 02, 2016, 10:47:01 pm by penguinofhonor »
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AoshimaMichio

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Re: Our Salvation: Returning Dark
« Reply #714 on: March 02, 2016, 06:52:00 am »

I... see?

Those crawlspaces doesn't bother experienced miner who lives in constant fear of collapsing mine, though Kupol mine was rather well constructed. But then again there's the puzzle. Hmm.

Try work with the puzzle, using some combinations I saw. Like six of them, or until something happens, whichever happens first.
If the door is not open by then, pick northmost crawlspace panel and get in. Or randomly pick one. It probably doesn't matter. Assuming big man like Leif fits in. Keep going right and scratch direction&progress markers on ceiling/top if I possibly can.
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Re: Our Salvation: Returning Dark
« Reply #715 on: March 02, 2016, 08:50:05 am »

Hmmm.  Perhaps a bit close to home, here.

"Oh my; I'm sorry for your loss.  Is there... something I could do?"

A perhaps more useful question
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HMR stands for Hazardous Materials Requisition, not Horrible Massive Ruination, though I can understand how one could get confused.
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Re: Our Salvation: Returning Dark
« Reply #716 on: March 02, 2016, 04:34:55 pm »

Aha!
Empty out the rest of the gold, cut a strip from the sack, and wrap it around another piece of glass to make a more conventional cutting implement.
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I would ask why fire can burn two men to death without getting hot enough to burn a book, but then I read "INEXTINGUISHABLE RUNNING KAMIKAZE RADIOACTIVE FLAMING ZOMBIE" and realized that logic, reason, and physics are all occupied with crying in the corner right now.

Harry Baldman

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Re: Our Salvation: Returning Dark
« Reply #717 on: March 03, 2016, 12:26:32 pm »

"Priest guy? Priest guy, wake up. This is more important than you trusting the wrong guy with prophecy powers and getting nearly incinerated. C'mon, grit your teeth! Answer my questions!"

Attempt once more to wake the priest up so he can give me advice on thieving yonder window. If he doesn't respond still, leave him be for now and take a look at said window. Is there a frame it could be lifted out of? Is it bolted in place? Basically inspect it for how to best take it out in one piece.

The priest looks to be perfectly awake. He just doesn't appear to feel like talking to you, staring wide-eyed and helpless as you give him another good shake. Fine. He can be that way if he wants to, you'll figure this out by yourself. Depositing him on the ground, you take a gander at the second window, hoping you've learned from past mistakes and can get this one out in one piece for a change.

[Structural Insights: 2]

You don't really see a frame for it, to be honest. Well, you suppose you do, but it's a stone frame, quite massive and very nicely polished. It also happens to be soldered in place, all the bits of glass connected by small leaden cames. It is fairly safe to say it was never meant to be removed in any way, shape or form.

Gross.

I leave the alcove and walk away from the wall, aiming to cross the middle of the room. I stop when I find anything interesting.

[Feet of the Unwary: 1]

The middle of the room is trapped. Finding this interesting, you stop. An unwise decision in hindsight.

What comes for you is another spring-loaded blade. Rather surprisingly this is something you see in advance, though mostly because the blade happens to be on fire. It soundlessly sweeps through the still tomb air, briefly illuminating the room, the flash of visibility affording a glimpse of vast amounts of writing engraved on the walls among carved images of heroes of old. One image that in strikes you in particular, the one that gives you a crucial moment of pause, is the sight of an armored man sitting atop a rearing warhorse, holding a blazing sword to the heavens.

[Touch of Flame: 6]

The good news is, the massive amount of blood you lose happens to be very adequate at extinguishing the fire you nearly catch as the blade comes to a rest right in the middle of your abdomen, dulled by age and neglect to the point where the tremendous force loaded into the mechanism fails to even disembowel you as you are lifted off your feet. The mechanism strains for a moment as it tries to push through, but the energy wound into it seems to not be quite enough as it peters out and lowers you to the ground again, having had one last hurrah before retirement from an illustrious adventurer-killing career.

I... see?

Those crawlspaces doesn't bother experienced miner who lives in constant fear of collapsing mine, though Kupol mine was rather well constructed. But then again there's the puzzle. Hmm.

Try work with the puzzle, using some combinations I saw. Like six of them, or until something happens, whichever happens first.
If the door is not open by then, pick northmost crawlspace panel and get in. Or randomly pick one. It probably doesn't matter. Assuming big man like Leif fits in. Keep going right and scratch direction&progress markers on ceiling/top if I possibly can.


[Six Sequences: 1]

You become synchronous with the bottom-you, tapdancing across the puzzling floor six times in varying patterns. Filled with a warm sense of accomplishment at your token effort at puzzle solution, you then detach the panel you believe is northernmost with the aid of your trusty foot (you pride yourself on having a flawless sense of which way north is on account of your ice giant blood - it's the direction you have a good feeling about when you're absolutely smashed) and crawl inside.

[Labyrinths of Anglefork: 3+1]

This crawlspace feels poorly ventilated, constricting and largely displeasing in just about every sense, but it's preferable to eternal imprisonment regardless, so you move along the winding passage. Mercifully it does not branch. It does undulate, however. You're not sure wood's supposed to do that. But it's a very nicely realized undulation, with more than an evocative hint of peristalsis. It really gives you a good feeling about the end of this tunnel, you'll say that much.

The further you go, the quieter it gets - eventually the only things you can hear as distant sounds of moving parts and crawling creatures subside are your own movements. Those grow quieter, too, until drowned out by your heartbeat and the blood rushing by your ears, each breath like a rising gale.

It is in this state that you find the tunnel ending. It ends abruptly, terminating at what feels like an opening into a larger room. A considerably larger room, considering that a careful bit of prodding tells you absolutely nothing about how far down the floor might be. The air feels deathly still in here, and distressingly short on oxygen.

Hmmm.  Perhaps a bit close to home, here.

"Oh my; I'm sorry for your loss.  Is there... something I could do?"

A perhaps more useful question

[Something One Could Do: 4]

Very little you could do, the majordomo notes sadly... well, although you could talk to her. She's gotten so very odd since she took over that closet of hers. Maybe you could have her spin you a tale. She used to so love doing that. And you do seem like you could use a little straightening out, truth be told. Hear the proper version of things for once, as it were.

Aha!
Empty out the rest of the gold, cut a strip from the sack, and wrap it around another piece of glass to make a more conventional cutting implement.

[A Convoluted Method: 5]

This odyssey of failure comes to a wildly and unexpectedly successful end as you manage to create a proper glass shiv out of the materials available. Hopefully the outside world is as hostile as you surmise and you will need to waste no time before putting it to good use. And hopefully it won't just break on the first person you try it on. Well, at least that it won't before it's lodged firmly in a wound, at least.

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Toaster

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Re: Our Salvation: Returning Dark
« Reply #718 on: March 03, 2016, 01:09:07 pm »

"Well, I've heard a great many stories today.  I suppose I could hear one more.  Show me the way, perhaps?"

Find her.  Listen to story politely.
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HMR stands for Hazardous Materials Requisition, not Horrible Massive Ruination, though I can understand how one could get confused.
God help us if we have to agree on pizza toppings at some point. There will be no survivors.

penguinofhonor

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Re: Our Salvation: Returning Dark
« Reply #719 on: March 03, 2016, 01:26:24 pm »

Gah. Okay, I should probably rest, but this thing might be the reason I came down here... I try to carefully remove the sword from the trap.
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