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Episode 3 Part 3 Sneak Peek #14
🕑 Added 2024-02-10 01:01:59 +0000 UTCA continuation of the last sneak peek! This week has been a struggle in terms of writing, this section feels very stuck since there are threads/ideas that need to be dropped, but dropped in a specific way. Some of this may get lost or moved around in editing, but that's the nature of it.
For context: there are six floors for the player character to climb here and there is something different to be found on all of them. The MC can choose to rush through without observing/exploring (they'll gain a benefit for this, but lose out on potential discoveries); but if they slow down and take in their environments, there are things they may notice...
This preview assumes that the MC has low approval with Solarath and also trained with Varyn.
The stairs creak underfoot as you emerged out onto the second mezzanine. Oddly, it is untouched by devastation, its walls and floors strangely pristine. There’s a polish to the wood, a sheen to the walls and plush furniture that doesn’t seem quite natural. Specks of gold are suspended in the air, floating like dust motes. You can’t be certain, but you suspect this may be the remnants of a ward. A powerful brightwarden may have stood their ground here, holding back the tide while others escaped.
Or at least that’s how you imagine it.
Aeran’s torch casts an orange glow across the walls as you pass. You glance sideways, lips pursed, taking them in. Majestic murals line the mezzanine, depicting portraits of imposing mages. Their features are sharp, their clothing and jewelry regal… they could be Imperial royalty if you didn’t know any better. You can only assume that these are the faces of past archsages, leaders of the Council, preserved here for all time. The section you pass must be old, for the colours are faded and they are dressed in fashion that is well over several centuries old. They carry themselves with a different air—not scholars, not teachers, not politicians, but warriors. Eyes that sharp have seen events no bard or poet can accurately describe.
And they are following you.
You turn away.
You wonder whether Quirinus has been memorialized. You’re tempted to walk the full circuit and find out, if only to put pen and dagger to his portrait and partake in some petty defacing. Unfortunate he already has a beard. A silly little mustache wouldn’t be out of the question…
Focus, $firstname.
Continue.
The third mezzanine returns you to wanton destruction. Nothing here has been preserved; between the blackened stone and the scorched floorboards, you’re surprised the structure can even hold your weight. You proceed cautiously, feeling the wood bench and stretch underfoot, eyeing the charred footprints painted across it. There’s a frantic, uneven pace to them—a dozen or so trampling over each other in their rush to evacuate. You follow the prints as you pass, your gaze falling upon the entrance to a narrow corridor lined with windows.
The glass is so blackened and warped that no light seeps through. A grand door waits at the end, its polished handle warped beyond recognition. Somehow, this hallway feels familiar. An echo of another corridor, another hall, in another citadel far, far away.
Your heart misses a beat. It’s strange to see this here, this shadow of Varyn’s office. You can picture it easily—a similar corridor, with similar windows. When you were younger, you enjoyed playing in the hallway on sunny days. You liked the way the sunlight streamed in at all times of day, the way it was refracted by the stained glass. You can’t remember exactly what was depicted there… suns and stars and a shimmering sky, you think, though you’re certain you’ve made that up. You and Aeran would sprawl out on carelessly on the floor in a jumble of limbs, and spend hours soaking up the sun. Varyn would inevitably nudge her door open and feign mock surprise, chiding you gently to do your chores or go to the training grounds, but even she couldn’t keep the fondness from her voice.
Those days are long gone.
