Those Who Lurk Underground [Tris, Heather, Phrost]

[Emma]

“Watch your step, Miss Gorgophone.”

The Count’s warning came far too late, and not for the first and certainly not the last time, I tripped over some thrice-blasted rock and ended up on my hands and knees, barely clinging to the cliff face. I squeaked as my flailing feet loosened more stones, sending them clattering down into the forest below. Realizing that moving about was only going to make things worse; I froze where I was and hugged the cliff, momentarily not caring about how dirty my jacket was going to be. Then I just remained suspended, staring down the cliff and trying to regain my composure. The light was very weak- Mr. D’artagnan and I had been woken by the rangers when it was still dark out, and the sun was still making its slow ascent through the sky. This was only made worse by the rainstorm that was due to come crashing down today. Already, dark clouds were racing across the horizon, and if I listened closely enough I could hear the distant rumble of thunder. That was why we had to start out so early. There was nothing worse than being caught in a storm in the middle of the wilderness, especially one as spooky as the Spine.

A white-gloved hand reached towards me. I looked up to see Mr. D’artagnan giving me an encouraging smile. I returned it and awkwardly took his hand, allowing him to pull me up. I steadied myself, and still holding onto the Count’s hand, continued my valiant struggle up the mountainside. Nobody in Hightower liked elves. Daddy had a deep respect for them, but everyone else would spit and curse if I ever mentioned them. War would do that to people, I supposed, but Mr. D’artagnan was such a gentleman. Since day one he’d insisted on carrying my bags, keeping me company and even protecting me while I trekked across the untamed bits of Alagaësia. I hadn’t seen a lick of cruelty or arrogance around that man. He was genuinely nice, unlike most human counts I met. I grunted with effort as I tried to speed up the pace, not wanting to lose the much more sure-footed rangers up here. It had to be sheer luck that the Count of Ellesméra and I had needed to make a trip to Kindred Cave at the same time. He had come to take and deliver something of apparent importance to Queen Dellanir, while I was here to make a pilgrimage to Nyx and fetch a few rare ingredients for Daddy’s research.

I ran over the list of items in my mind one more time as we finally reached the top of the cliff, a sheer ledge that was bare as bone. However, I did feel cool drafts of air that the rangers had told us meant a cave was nearby. I saw nothing but more cliff, but upon edging closer I almost fell into Kindred Cave’s opening. It was directly underneath us, with a gaping mouth that unsettlingly reminded me of the maw of some monster, and pitch black. I placed my hands on my knees and squinted into the blackness, trying to make out any shapes. I could see a steep path that probably led into the heart of this particular mountain and maybe even deeper, but that was it. If I leaned down any further, I really would fall in. Straightening and carefully stepping backwards to avoid any more embarrassing accidents, I turned to Mr. D’artagnan and the head ranger, who were both peering intently at a map and talking to each other in low voices. I lifted up the hem of my skirt and stepped over to them to get a look for myself. I was dressed as richly as always, not that it would matter out here- it looked like I was wearing a full-skirted emerald-green dress, but beneath the glamorous fabric I wore black silk trousers and boots- Daddy had pointed out that if a monster caught me, pretty clothing would mean nothing on a corpse. I shuddered despite the heat, and wrapped my jewel-stitched green coat a little tighter around myself.

“This is the general vicinity where the Nyxians lived,” the ranger was saying. He looked up at Mr. D’artagnan, who was frowning. “Is there a problem?”
“I’m not sure yet,” he said in his deep, slightly raspy voice after a pause. “On the map, looks like there’s a path that leads to their holy ground.” He traced a finger along the paper, and then stopped on an X mark. “There. What is that?”
“This cave is prone to collapses. That’s one of many paths that were sealed by rock. I’ll send in some of my men to-”
“That won’t be necessary. We don’t want the cave collapsing any further, after all.”
Mr. D’artagnan could move uncannily quickly. In one fluid movement, he took the map from the ranger, rolled it up, and carefully fixed his fedora. Then he appeared behind me, placing his hands on my shoulders and tipping me very slightly in the direction of the cave.
“From now on, this job is mine and Miss Gorgophone’s alone. Take care not to get in our way, gentlemen.”

And then he pushed me very slightly towards the cave- not hard, I was probably free to stop him if I wanted to- and yet at the same time, I heard a certain tone in his voice that I only knew all too well from Her Holiness. It left no room for argument, and so I went with his wishes and scuttled into the hungry mouth of the cave, going as quickly as the steep path allowed and still trying to get used to the trousers. However, uncomfortable clothing was quickly forgotten in the sudden encompassing darkness of the inner chamber, and I immediately slowed to a halt. Only the Count’s encouraging nudge kept me going. I walked slowly at first, allowing my eyes to adjust to the complete lack of light. After a while, with the help of a few shafts of light piercing through cracks made by rockslides and tree roots, I could make out shapes in the dark. So far, nothing appeared out of the ordinary about this particular cavern, although the opening was still only maybe a hundred feet behind us. We picked up the pace, and I watched as the narrow passageway became a huge inner chamber, with several tunnels leading out of it.

Mr. D’artagnan muttered in the ancient language, a light spell that I recognized. Immediately, a red flame appeared in his hand, and I saw his figure outlined in bloody light. I’d read somewhere that the colour red didn’t disrupt night vision. I stepped closer, peering at it and at the Count. He was dressed as well as me, with a coat of ice-white satin trimmed with silver braid and pearl that matched his trousers. His boots were pale fawn leather, embroidered with curlicues of silver and gold, and he wore several rings on his fingers, including what was probably the signet of Ellesméra. On his glamorous, black-haired head was a white fedora, which matched his white lawn shirt with its sewn knots of pale green ribbon. After staring at him for the entirety of our three-day trip from Carvala, trying to figure out if he was attractive or not, I’d finally decided that he was. He wasn’t flawlessly beautiful like elven men were supposed to be, but I rather liked that- it made him more approachable, and thus, slightly terrifying. As he peered around the cave, he stopped to look at me, and then down. In one swift move, he pulled a kerchief out of his coat and pressed it into my hands, wiping them gently. Only then did I remember losing the skin on my palms to the rocks an hour earlier, and I winced.

“Remember, Miss Gorgophone, this isn’t a picnic. Please try and keep your wits about you. I’m going to scout ahead in case anything unpleasant is waiting for us deeper in.”
“Wonderful, but come back quickly,” I said hurriedly as he removed the now very smeared and bloody kerchief from my hands, and replaced it with some of the surprisingly cold red flame. He’d put down my bags by my feet, too. “This cavern is spooky. Look at it, Mr. D’artagnan. It’s actively trying for some kind of… spookiness medal.”
“It’s quite safe, Miss Gorgophone. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

And with that, he tipped his hat to me and walked away, humming a tune I faintly recognized but couldn’t place. I held the light aloft, watching until his ponytail disappeared into one of the tunnels. And how did he know it was safe? I humphed, twirling around and squinting at the huge chamber around me. To any horrible monster, I was probably not much more than a pastry. And this shiny light would only make me an easier target. For a moment, I found myself picturing myself surrounded by all sorts of horrid creatures, until I shook my head and forced myself to focus. Imagining myself getting eaten was not a good mindset. At least in here I’d stay as dry as a stale biscuit. Risking a little more light, I gazed up at the cave, and my jaw dropped in the most unladylike fashion. Beautiful flowstones and columns sparkled all across the cave, and on the floor, calcite had claimed a few animal bones. I could see the skulls of bears and wolves, now fossilized by hardened, glimmering water. I took care not to step on any of them, but kept looking and marvelling at the structures around me. Once I’d seen my fill, I sucked in my breath and pulled my sleeves up to my elbows, shivering slightly in the chilled air.

It was time to get to work.

Characters Used;; Euryale Gorgophone with Anastasio D'artagnan
Words;; 1650
Muse;; Not bad at all!
Thoughts;; Considering how awful my muse was a few days back and the fact that these are both new characters I'm still trying to get used to, I'm quite pleased with the turnout. ^^ Anyway, when you guys' characters get to the cave, the rangers will be gone, since I was thinking that Anastasio and Euryale do their thing for a while and only run into Laereth and Craven once the storm hits, so... yeah. XD

[Tris]

Laereth stopped again to look at the sky, the dark clouds where ready to pour anytime, she grimaced and quickened her pace. Usually she felt more at home in a forest than anywhere else, but the moment she had stepped foot in the spine she had wanted to leave. But she was tracking a murder, this man had been on the run for two years and the elves had almost forgotten about him, but when he killed two elves Laereths implorers sent her to track him down and kill him. That was why she was carrying a bow instead of her normal staff and wore a dark brown coat and green tunic and pants. His tracks where a day old but the trees had preserved them well, but soon the tracks began to lead up the cliffs and when they hit rock they disappeared. Laereth almost screamed in frustration, as the rain started and was quickly erasing any sigh of life, guessing she started her way up a thin path up the mountain.

The storm raged on as Laereth tried to go quickly, when she came across a gaping hole that she lost her footing over and fell head first in. The way was steep but she only fell a few feet, she got up the wind knocked out of her but none the worse, the cave was pitch black but as her eyes started to a just to the darkness she could make out rocks and entrances to other parts of the cave. When she got a little ways from the entrance she heard a faint sound coming from one of the side tunnels, gripping her bow titer she called out,” Who’s there!” And instantly felt stupid for it, who would answer in a disserted cave imbecile, chiding herself for giving away where she was to any hungry animal.






Thoughts;; Uggggg... total rubbish, and sorry bout the ending girls i wasn't sure what else to do.

[heather927]

Jasmine Serra was taking the week off. Despite having been offered five contracts for that day alone, she’d refused them and the money offered in favour of a quick trip out to collect some mushrooms. The trip had involved travelling all the way to the Spine but, given the rarity of the fungi in question – they were only seen in the Spine and, even there, were considered unusual – she’d been perfectly willing to take the journey. With her partner and daughter at home awaiting her return, she’d promised to be back soon, in less than one week to be exact.

Jasmine was dressed casually but sensibly. A simple brown top, paler trousers and heavy brown boots coupled with a darker cloak in case of rain. The small bag she carried around her waist was already filled with the curious blue-capped mushrooms that could be both a delicious treat and a deadly poison depending on whether or not they were cooked. It went without saying that, as usual, Jasmine was armed. Despite her casual, everyday attire she carried three hidden blades, not including the chunky, jagged one she had fastened in clear sight to her belt.

A quick glance into her bag and Jasmine sighed to herself in frustration. She’d planned on collecting twelve whole mushrooms each day but even if she counted the bits and pieces she’d found, it only amounted to ten and a half. Even so, it was getting dark earlier than she’d anticipated and the last thing she wanted was to get lost and miss out on the room she’d bought in an inn, it had cost too much money to just be wasted and besides, all her belongings were there and she trusted the inn’s staff with the same amount of faith as she had in any other stranger – None.

As she turned to retrace her steps up a rocky crag, rain fell. Heavy rain, too heavy to walk through without getting drenched and Jasmine disliked having to spend the day wearing sodden clothing. Even if she pulled her cloak up and ran she’d have to forsake the protective garment for the next day at least while it dried, that was something she refused to do. As the only alternative was to find shelter, Jasmine paused and scanned the area, her eyes finally locking onto a cave. It was a risk entering a random cave but with the rain already starting to soak through her hood and into her hair, changing the smooth brown braid into a darker, tangled mess of dripping strands, she decided it was worth it.

Without hesitation she slid down the rest of the shallow slope, skipped over a small rain-made river of muddy water and entered the cave, sliding the dagger out of her belt as she did so – it was, in her opinion, always better to be safe than sorry. Jasmine looked around the cave cautiously, wishing she’d brought some sort of light. She didn’t intend to go very far in but…with the rain still coming down there was little else she could do except explore a little. Edging a few steps further into the cave, she froze as a noise rang out from somewhere ahead of her. Sliding her blade to her other hand and checking that her mushroom bag was secured, Jasmine Serra prepared to fight. If necessary.

(( Um, I think this is the right thread. If not I apologize. Also if I did something wrong then sorry again and go easy on me, this is my first rp in yonks))

[phrostphyre]

There were worse things than being soaking wet, covered in blood, and followed by five out of thirty personal soldiers, Ari decided. What they were, he didn't quite know, although it seemed to him that a battle or being tortured were up there. He also suspected that being a prisoner was quite bad, although he hadn't experienced it himself. He had been in battle many times, but had survived. Partially because vengeance was a powerful motivator. He abruptly turned from his silent musings and looked at his soldiers, three males and two females. He stroked his chin for a moment, then poked his sword into the rock of the cavern floor and began tapping the pommel, thinking. If he split them all up, they would be less effective, but cover more ground. On the same hand, if he split them up and left half of them here, they could hold this spot, a narrow part which widened, and then split into two passages, against nearly everyone. It was a tough decision, and if they stayed with him, he knew he could personally direct them in battle. He thought for another moment, then decided.

” Freyr, Ranar, and Silthain. You stay here. Freya and Kelnah will come with me, further into the cave. We're here for gold, so I can keep paying you. Now shut up and come with me.”[/color]

Dressed in black, with his hair bound behind him, Ari Ravnson, Count of Osilon, Ari inn Atall, Ari the Terrible, was hunting for gold. This particular cavern cave thing was inhabitied by religious fanatics. Ari hadn't bothered to find out more. He needed the gold to pay his personal soldiers, he needed his personal soldiers to keep Osilon from all the soldiers loyal to the Queen near the prison, and he needed them kept away from his city because he was entertaining thoughts of setting up his own nation. But to do that, one needed money to pay soldiers to protect one's new nation, and so Ari was looking for gold. He wasn't actually plotting open rebellion or even an open seperation. He would live a long while yet, and if Osilon benifited from being a seperate city-state, then Ari would benefit from it, and that would be worth losing twenty-five soldiers, three weeks of his life, and a ruined outfit. So he was hunting for gold, and his soldiers were disgruntled right now, and Ari was slightly angry, because they had lost troops, but had found no gold, and he was blaming religion for their fanatics for being poor.

Ari sheathed his sword and began walking to where the cavern seperated itself into two paths, and took the left one on a feeling in his gut. That, and a flipped coin. It said left, so left Ari and his two companions followed him deeper into the cavern.

[Emma]

I really needed to draw the line somewhere when it came to my job.

A good half hour after Miss Gorgophone and I had parted ways, I found myself seated on a low shelf of limestone, whistling the closing crescendo of my favourite symphony as I regained my breath and waited for my heartbeat to grow calm. The use of blood magic was like a vision. I was left in a state of complete vulnerability, my mind and body suddenly devoid of the need for self-preservation. Defenseless and unarmoured whenever the bloodlust took me, it was almost frightening how many times I’d come so close to death- and yet, the vision was enough to risk putting my life on the line. In my hazy consciousness, I had registered a single blow to the arm, a knife wound that had only now begun to hurt. At the time, I hadn’t minded a single bit- it had only enhanced the gratification. The dark rivulets of blood dripping off my left hand, not all of which was mine, was a testament to the bloodshed that had just occurred. The earthy scent of the cavern had been replaced by the rank stink of internal liquids, the glittering limestone now marred with blood and excrement. I held up one bloodied hand, admiring the crimson liquid, and allowed myself to shudder ever so delicately with the remaining tingles of ecstasy.

And yet, despite my satisfaction, I knew that self-discipline was necessary. I was no savage, rending flesh and destroying life with the total lack of restraint that my sister was so fond of. It had been far too long since I’d felt the red nectar of life flowing between my fingers, and it was likely this starvation that had led to the orgiastic abandon I’d just displayed. I prided myself as a refined killer, keeping the colours within the lines. The bodies that lay before me now were scattered, messy, ugly, like the desperate, rushed creation of an artist that had lost their muse, or the senseless violence of an untrained murderer. It deeply insulted my sense of aesthetics, as well as my ego, and as time went on, it began to dull my overall pleasure. Eventually, I decided it was time to leave. I rolled my head, groaning and stretching before I rose to my feet, flicking off the dust that had collected. I strode out of the room, careful to avoid ruining my shoes on the pools of blood collecting on the floor. My duty wasn’t done yet, of course- I still had to escort Miss Gorgophone around the cave, and Her Highness had informed me that there were twelve escapees hiding in here, and I’d only found six of them. They were traitors to Du Weldenvarden, having been the ones who smuggled and then used the weapon that had nearly killed the Queen and simultaneously caused the poisoning of her palace. As Lucrezia no longer had any use for them either, I was to exact their final punishment.

Miss Gorgophone had also simply been in dire need of an escort- as a possible candidate for a mage of the Hand of Leona, a careful eye needed to be kept on her. The fact that both of these things took place in Kindred Cave was more than simple coincidence. I looked up at the crystalline structures above my head; some of them unfortunately blackened by smoke- a positive sign that the cave was occupied. Though the shafts of sunlight had been obscured by grey clouds and pouring rain, I could still see the subdued sparkle of the limestone above. This was only the upper level of the cavern’s vast labyrinthine structure- the lower levels, now supposedly blocked by rubble, possessed a trove of ancient artefacts. Having once been inhabited by the very first worshippers of Nyx, the ones that had battled death and persecution to preserve their way of life, one might find it odd that it wasn’t some holy shrine or some other for the Voyage. It should have been full of pilgrims, its artefacts claimed to be displayed at the Cathedral’s museum- but instead, it all remained secret. Lucrezia had dismissed my questions about why this was so, only saying that I would understand when I arrived there. The beginnings of the Voyage of the Nine Moons would interest even an artist such as me, apparently. A fascinating concept, religion. I was going to have to give it a try sometime.

“Mr. D’artagnan!”
Miss Gorgophone’s lilting voice echoed across the chambers, likely much farther away than she sounded. Remembering the blood staining my suit, I muttered a spell to draw it out of the fabric.
“Guess what, Mr. D’artagnan! I found two of the ingredients I’m looking for!”

I opened my mouth to respond, about to tell the girl that it was perfectly acceptable for her to call me by first name, but then I heard the echoes of her footsteps go round a passage and disappear- she was running away from me, seeming to think I had returned to the entrance of the cave. I smirked. Miss Gorgophone was a refreshingly polite and well-read young woman, but she had little in the way of perception. Judging by how she had been raised, however, I supposed it was to be expected. After flicking the worst of the blood onto the cavern floor, I swept after the young noblewoman. Navigating through a dark cave, even with my ball of light, was no easy task- I relied on spatial awareness far more than eyesight to duck the lowest of the stalactites and to dodge the columns and stalagmites. I didn’t make as much speed as I’d hoped, but I easily caught up with the Selkie- speed, at least on dry land, was not her forte. I slowed to a walk when I saw her rustling skirt just up ahead, and once again made to call out to her. And once again, I was interrupted- this time by Miss Gorgophone giving a piercing scream.

I defused my light and hid behind a column just beside the girl, and pulled her in with me, causing her to yelp again.
“Oh, Mr. D’artagnan, it’s just you…” she breathed, and then gave an enormous gasp. “I dropped my ingredients! Oh, please help me find them again, Mr. D’artagnan, won’t you? If I go home with missing ingredients, Miss Malandra will…” she shuddered. She has this disappointed frown that turns your bones to jelly- yes, that face, the one you’re making right now-”
“Please calm down, Miss Gorgophone. Why did you scream?” I asked quietly.
“Oh, there was a very shiny flash of light- it just surprised me, is all. Although I thought I saw an important-looking woman…”
“Important-looking?”
“She was cross. Important women are always cross about something.” She broke off with a gasp. “Your arm! What happened? And if you say ‘it’s just a flesh wound’-”

I placed a hand over her mouth as a heavily armoured trio strode out of the opposite tunnel, and then grit my teeth in annoyance as the bright yellow light of a torch scalded my eyes, effectively ruining my night vision for the next twenty minutes or so. After giving myself a moment to adjust to the sudden brightness, I looked closer at the threesome that had assembled. All three were elves, two female and one male. One woman was tall and dark, and armed with a spear. The other was fair-skinned, blonde, and petite in stature, gripping a short sword tightly. They were both slim and attractive as all elven women were, and other than the chainmail that gave them away as soldiers, there was nothing else of any note about either of them. The man, however- which at first I had thought to be too burly to be an elf- I recognized quite well. Ari Ravnson, or Ari the Terrible, as he had been nicknamed, had been a general in the Blue Divide, and was now Count of Osilon. His huge form and one steel-blue eye made him easily recognizable. Well-known for his cruelty, womanizing, and skill with a blade, it was indeed odd for such an important person to be wandering around in a forgotten cave far from civilization.

“Come out and I won’t kill you!” boomed Ravnson. “Just because the fields of the Blue Divide saw me cut down thousands doesn’t mean anything. Just ask Freya and Kelnah!”

Miss Gorgophone gave me a nervous look. I smiled and held out a hand, indicating that it was quite safe for her to continue. She prepared to step out, and then suddenly looked down at herself, frowning. I raised an eyebrow as she pulled her corset absurdly high up her chest, hardly allowing her neck, let alone any cleavage, to show whatsoever. Then she inhaled deeply, summoning her courage, and walked out into the light. I followed her, removing my hat and bowing as the Selkie gave her deepest curtsy, and then stumbled backwards next to me.

“Likewise, Count Ravnson,” I said coolly, rising from my bow. “Anything either of us might have done in wartime means nothing in a simple, civil meeting such as this one, am I right?”
“You know him?” asked Miss Gorgophone blearily. Then, remembering herself, she curtsied again. “Oh! I’m so sorry! Atra esterní ono thelduin, I’m Euryale Gorgophone. I mean… that wasn’t rude of me, was it? Should we have exchanged names first? I’m Eury- oh! I’m sorry, I’m rambling.” When her query was met with silence, she squeaked and turned to face me, whispering, “Mr. D’artagnan, are they going to kill me?”

Characters Used;; Anastasio D'artagnan with Euryale Gorgophone
Words;; 1610
Muse;; Quite nice, especially at the beginning!
Thoughts;; HRRRG I love writing psychos. Sorry for the wait! I was thinking Laereth could run into Jasmine and then later on, everyone meets up. It seemed kind of silly for all the characters to run into each other all at once.

[phrostphyre]

Anastasio D'artagnan and Euralye Gorgophone. Ari kept his face neutral, showing nothing at this unexpected development. One was an elf, the other a Selkie. Ari sheathed his sword with a flourish and bowed deeply, once to Mr. D' Artagnan, the elf, and twice to Ms. Gorgophone, the Selkie. Noticing D'artagnan's eyes, he stuck his torch in a pile of filth, extinguishing it. Now he had placed himself at D'artagnan's mercy, as his escorts were behind him.

”Ah, Mr. D'artagnan, it appears you have me at a disadvantage. I am not dressed my best, sir. It appears that the young Miss Gorgophone has me at another disadvantage, something which does not happen often, I assure the both of you. The traditional greetings are not necessary, Miss Gorgophone. I cannot, in good conscience, say welcome to this cave, as it is not my cave, a particularly pleasant place, or enjoyable, but what cheer I can offer, I do offer freely.” His face was a picture of polite welcome, but his voice was layered. Underneath the polite, formal gentleman, lurked a willingness to draw steel and begin to kill. It was carefully kept reined in, like a man eating lion kept on a short leash.

Ari's guards slowly crept forward, and then one edged past Ari to stand to one side in front of him. He cocked an eyebrow, then shrugged. She would do as she wished, to protect him. It was why he paid her. Now that he could see, without the torch constantly in his eyes, he took careful notice of both of them, like a king surveying vassals attempting to lie. D'Artagnan was a dark elf, with black hair and a white suit that appeared to be cut differently than most clothes. Ari took a slight interest in the cut of the suit, and he made a mental note to inquire about it at a later point in time.

Gorgophone, he noted, was dressed properly for a noblewoman of the Broddring court, but not for trampin through a cave. Her features were delicately doll-like. Thus, not worthy of Ari's furthered interest. Her corset appeared to be trying to hide her breasts, not showing them. Perhaps she had heard of his reputation? Whichever one it was, good. He was Ari inn Atall for a reason.

Something seemed to occur him, and he thought quickly. It was a gamble, but what in life wasn't? ”Sir and Madame, it appears we're both in a forsaken cave, no doubt for varying reasons known only to us. However, I propse we ally ourselves, so that we may more easily conquer the perils of the cave. I have three more soldiers, but not here. If we were to go back the way I came, we could have them come with us, increasing our effective strength. Are you amenable?”[/color]

[Tris]

Hearing nothing Laereth went a bit further into the cave to escape the wind and rain driving through the caves entrance.

Laereth wished she had brought a torch with her; she had walked only a few feet into a big chamber when her feet caught on a bolder and she fell head over heels, making a huge racket as some of her arrows fell out of the quiver and scattered. Cursing she picked herself up and tried to locate her lost possessions, when she heard a soft splash from the passage she had come from. Moving slowly through the opening she saw a slim figure standing near the entrance posed for attack, Laereth slide a dagger from her sleeve but didn’t draw it because the woman was obviously an elf and though she didn’t look official you could never tell. At seeing Laereth the women seemed to relax just a little but still looked like a cat ready to pounce, so she thought it would be best to try and break the ice, taking a breath she began to say hello when a noise like a mighty roar filled the cavern. It only lasted a few moments but then the rumble of rocks sliding could be heard, both Laereth and the elf woman leaped to the end of the cave, as far from the entrance as possible, as the rocks came tumbling in and covered the hole.

When Laereth opened her eyes there was nothing, just darkness, there was no entrance now just a pile of rocks. Coughing she began to pick herself up, there was tiny shaves of light coming from a cracks in the rocks, just enough for her to see the elf woman standing up, ” Are you alright?” Laereth asked, she wasn’t sure what they were going to do, without a torch they weren’t going to make it very far in the cave.

In a few moments her eyes started to adjust, and she began to see shadows, which didn’t seem possible but in the openings to other passages she could see spots a shade darker then the cave, and sometimes she saw little glowing eyes. But that all ended when a light appeared from the biggest passage just ahead.

[heather927]

A moment passed and Jasmine frowned, wondering if she'd imagined the noise. That didn't cause her posture to slack however, the more deadly predators were the ones you didn't hear - let alone see- until it was too late. Already images of giant, bloodthirsty beasts flickered through her mind and, although she was fairly sure it was just her claustrophobia playing up, it didn't make her feel any better. Taking a deep breath and a firmer grip on her weapon, Jasmine braced herself for the worst and waited as the sounds drew steadily louder and nearer.

It was with no small amount of relief that Jasmine saw a fellow elf. Although she kept her wary stance and dagger held at the ready, she felt the tension fade slightly from her body and was almost instantly replaced by embarrassment - the chances of a huge beast being in the cave had been slim. There was a brief pause as the two looked at each other. Jasmine's mind automatically weighed up the potential threat of the other woman and decided that, based solely on the fact that she was in the Spine, it was fairly high. Either that or she was ignorant of the rumors.

And that was when she heard the roar. Instinctively, Jasmine turned her knife in the direction of the roar - although keeping in mind the possibility that it could just be a distraction - and waited. She didn't have to wait for long. Rocks started to tumble down, smashing across the entrance and blocking it. Jasmine froze for a moment, terror and claustrophobia slamming down on her mind. She probably would have stayed there and been crushed if she hadn't seen, out of the corner of her eye, the other woman move as far away from the falling rocks as was physically possible. Copying her, Jasmine arrived at the other side of the cave a mere second or so after. Something smashed into her shoulder as she moved and, although Jasmine cried out more in shock than pain, her voice was drowned by the rocks crashing to the ground.

Then it all went dark. Jasmine moved cautiously across the cave until she reached a wall and then she lent against it, taking deep breaths in an effort to calm down. One of her worst fears was to be trapped underground and, given the distinct lack of escape routes, that seemed to be exactly what had happened. Closing her eyes to block out the darkness, Jasmine drew in a slow breath and then released it.

"Are you alright?" Several sarcastic replies floated through Jasmine's mind but instead she decided to think about her answer seriously. Her arm hurt but it wasn't broken, bruised at best and cut at worst - although she couldn't actually tell due to the lack of light. She was scared but fear wasn't exactly a problem. She was also stuck in a cave with a strange woman but somehow Jasmine wasn't as worried about that.

"Yes" Jasmine winced slightly as her voice trembled, matching the shaken fear she was feeling. Taking another breath and releasing it, she said in a calmer, confident tone "What about you?" Eyes still shut, she waited for an answer, clutching her knife tightly between her fingers and praying that she'd sounded as relaxed as she'd wanted to.

[Emma]

Well, this was just peachy.

Admittedly, Daddy had never had the patience or seen much value in teaching me the delicacies of court etiquette. I could muddle along well enough in Broddring thanks chiefly to Renn’s strict teaching, but when it came to the elves, I was about as gracious as a pregnant cow. When it was clear that the new Fair Folk that I’d just humiliated myself in front of- one of which was a count, no less- seemed content to ignore my misgivings, I shrank away from the light of the torches and hid my shame in the darkness. Most grievous were the black fungus and fireweed strewn across the cavern floor, now dirty and anyway blocked by three dangerous-looking people with pointy weapons. I gave a hefty sigh, most displeased at the way my day was turning out.

My gaze travelled up the bodies of the three elves and settled on their faces. As it did, my embarrassment began to shrink away. Now I could see why the young men and women of Broddring were ready to risk anything just to sneak a look at one of the fabulous Fair Folk on the rare occasions that they visited Carvala. All three were probably among the best-looking people I’d ever seen, both women long and sinewy like snakes, their glittering armour adding even more to the resemblance. One had a blue-eyed, fair-haired prettiness that I thought enviably appealing, and the other was just as good-looking, only darker, and a little bit more alien. The Count himself had obviously been gorgeous before whatever tragedy had caused him to lose his eye- and even now, he was strikingly handsome. He was very different than how I pictured most elves, though, unlike but also not unlike Mr. D’artagnan- while the latter wasn’t the picturesque beauty I’d expected and preferred to dress and live in a very human manner, Mr. Ravnson was huge- and his solid bulk was probably all muscle. There was also something unnaturally cold about him, but maybe it was just his one eye giving his face that overcast. But at the same time, I realized that he was being every bit as polite as Mr. D’artagnan- and yet, somehow, his presence wasn’t nearly as calming. Maybe it was all those weapons.

“Sir and Madame, it appears we’re both in a forsaken cave, no doubt for varying reasons known only to us. However, I propose we ally ourselves, so that we may more easily conquer the perils of the cave. I have three more soldiers, but not here. If we were to go back the way I came, we could have them come with us, increasing our effective strength. Are you amenable?”

I opened my mouth, about to mention just why Mr. D’artagnan hadn’t let any of the rangers into the cave, then remembered my manners and clamped it shut again. However, I found it difficult to hide my discomfort. There were more than enough people now to frighten off any bears or wolves that had taken residence here, and the idea of having soldiers stomping over fragile limestone and beautifully preserved bones and artefacts offended the historian in me. Again I opened my mouth to ask if Mr. Ravnson knew how sacred this cave was, but manners won out again and I decided to clamp my hands over my mouth until it decided to behave. I turned to Mr. D’artagnan, who still had a warm smile on his face. However, those very strange eyes of his were flickering from one elf to the other, and remained for an especially long time on Mr. Ravnson in particular. The other count was regarding Mr. D’artagnan with the same degree of interest. I was reminded of one time in the forest when I’d seen two bears about to fight for territory sizing each other up, weighing out the risks and benefits. I wondered if this was the same. Daddy had warned me that elves were a competitive lot, that Du Weldenvarden was built on powerful people competing against each other. It was wonderful that elves were so athletic, but the idea of playing any kind of sport in here was just as nerve-wracking as having soldiers swarming it. I looked pleadingly at Mr. D’artagnan, but for the moment, he seemed content to watch Mr. Ravnson for just a little while more.

The silence at that point was so absolute that when I first heard the roar, my heart leapt into my mouth. It wasn’t the rumble of thunder, but the distinct crashing of rocks and trees and tonnes upon tonnes of what I first assumed was the entire cave coming down on us. It made the entire floor vibrate, and, naturally, my stupid legs did not hold up. I nearly fell to my knees, making some sort of bleating noise, and only swaying violently towards the wall on my left kept me from tumbling to my hands and knees. I looked up, hoping desperately that none of the fluting would come crashing down onto my head, but it was only a few chips of limestone being shaken out of the ceiling- the main noises were coming from the tunnel leading back to the entrance. I wondered what it could be- at first, I pictured thousands of elven troops swarming into the cavern, and then I wondered if perhaps a dragon made its home here, and then finally I remembered the rangers’ warnings about landslides. I found a good grip on the beautiful prince of a wall behind me and leaned into it, waiting for the shaking to diminish.

Once most of the sound had ground into silence and it was clear that none of us were going to be pulverized by falling stalactites, I glanced at Mr. D’artagnan for what to do next. My legs were still very shaky; otherwise I would have run to him during the earthquake or rockslide or whatever had just transpired. I had been trained exceptionally well in the fine art of screaming like a little girl and holding onto someone I trusted during times of danger. Mr. D’artagnan wasn’t smiling, for once, but he didn’t look upset, either- he was pensive, I decided. He’d stepped under the overhang of a flowstone during the shaking, and was now brushing dust off his coat, which was strangely still the colour of polished marble even after all he’d been through. If I’d worn white today, nobody would ever have been able to guess that was the original colour. Once he seemed confident that we were safe, he smoothly stepped out of the overhang with that elven grace I so desperately envied, and addressed Mr. Ravnson.

“As comforting it would be to have extra soldiers about, I’m afraid the real danger is the cavern itself, Ravnson-vodhr. You did gather information about Kindred Cave before deigning to set foot in it, didn’t you? It’s prone to collapses and other… less-than-pleasant natural occurrences.”
“Mr. D’artagnan, I’m so sorry to interrupt, but I think something might have happened to the entrance,” I said hurriedly.
He raised an inquisitive eyebrow. “Did it, now?” He stretched one hand toward me, which I was more than happy to take and use to steady myself. “In that case, we should leave for the entrance immediately. Ravnson-vodhr, if your lovely ladies would like to take the lead?”

Characters Used;; Euryale Gorgophone with Anastasio D'artagnan
Words;; 1230
Muse;; EERG.
Thoughts;; GAH, I'm really sorry for how long this took, my muse has been SEVERELY in the dumps as of late. =( I'm thinking they can all run into each other in Phrost's next post.

[phrostphyre]

It was, he decided, a bad place to be hunting for gold in the company of an ex-criminal, a Broddring diplomat, and two of his own household troops. Although it was a cave, and Ari didn't personally have anything against caves, it was when the cave decided to try and kill him that he didn't like the cave. Caves weren't all bad, in his experience. It was, however, when the cave threw rock slides or whatever it was at him, that Ari wished he was able to use magic to throw the forces of nature back at nature. There weren't many things Ari Ravnson were good at. He was good at dispensing justice, he was good at ruling Osilon, and he was good at leading other elves into battle. He seemed to posses some sort of mystical quality that allowed him an easy cofidence, an indecent confidence, when others would be vomiting or retching in fear or panic.

And Ari Ravnson was good at fighting. Whether it was a brawl or a battle, Ari Ravnson seemed to be a born fighter. He was fast, he was savage, and he was indecently good. Which was why Ari had at least one powerful magician loyal to him personally with him at all times. Freya was his magician for this expedition. Looking at Ari for orders, he nodded, and she stepped forward to cast a spell to light up the cave, when she fell through a hole in the floor. It had been cleverly disguised, and the drop was enough to break her leg, because she was unprepared for it. Drawing his sword and dropping his shield, he turned to D'Artagnan and Gorgophone.

”Kelnah. Stay with Mr. D'Artagnan and Miz Gorgophone. I have business to attend to down there. It seems Freya has stumbled upon something attempting foulness. Mr. D'Artagnan, I leave the capable Kelnah under your orders. Don't waste her life.” Bowing with a flourish of his sword, Ari turned and stepped into the hole, bending his knees as he fell, landing with a thud and a grin.

Freya had dragged herself out from under the hole and was trying to heal her leg, but a humanoid figure shrouded in a black cloak was attempting to go after her. Ari had dropped in between the two, and the figure had a sword. Ari lunged forward with his sword, but the thing batted it aside and it lunged, going for his throat. Ari knocked its sword away from his throat, then came down with a hammering blow, meant to shatter armor and bone, but the thing managed to throw its sword up, blocking Ari's from taking an arm off. Ari leapt back, to give him time to think.

The thing was good, Ari gave it that. It was nearly Ari's equal with the sword, and Ari was being pushed back to Freya slowly. Ari couldn't use magic, otherwise he would have crushed it with a rock slide. Thinking quickly, he reviewed his assets, and came to the conclusion Kelnah and D'Artagnan could, and would, be useful. Get your bloody arses down here! This thing is damned good, and I need help, damn its eyes.


(Sorry I took so darned long. No excuses. I sucked. ANYWAY. HAHHAAH. Off the RAILS!)