Tom O’Bedlam
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Descent into Tarin-Tiran, Chapter 2
🕑 Added 2022-05-30 16:28:20 +0000 UTCRobin followed closely behind Jhess as the party made its way through the ruined mansion. Night had fallen, judging by what they could see from the flickers of illusion that still struggled to shroud the cavern ceiling. An oppressive silence had fallen as they crept inward, knowing that a body lay at the end of their path.
Yet for all that there was still beauty to be had. The remnants of faded glory still clung to the walls in panels of fine, dark wood, and glimmers of gilding. There were even traces of paint still clinging to the whitewash, evidence of beautiful murals or patterning.
Robin could almost imagine how it had looked, so long ago. There, the staircase bordered with orderly rows of dark spindles supporting the bannister. Through that doorway a servants passage, likely leading to the kitchen. The pattern on the walls restored, all white and blue and…
…and for a moment Robin wasn’t imagining it as it had been, he could literally see it as it had been. And judging from the sharp inhalations of breath around him he was was not the only one.
The walls were restored, the windows shining with clear panes and stained glass accents. There was furniture all around, rather than the rubble of detritus and splinters, expertly appointed accent tables with various art pieces and other treasures of bric-a-brac.
And as quickly as it appeared, it vanished.
‘What,’ Jhess said slowly, ‘was that?’
‘Illusion?’ Robin ventured, though is voice was anything but sure.
‘What kind of illusions come and go like that?’ Drev demanded. ‘And why does it look like this place presumably used to look?’
Before Robin could offer a thought there was a flicker of ghostly light from the top of the stairway to their right.
‘Who’s that?’ Jhess jumped back after sending a knife winging upward.
The light vanished before the knife hit a beam and stuck there quivering.
‘What way is it to the body?’ Savra asked, a note of finality in her voice that said she already suspected the answer.
There was a long pause.
‘Up there,’ Jhess finally said grudgingy.
‘Of course,’ Drev muttered.
Robin quickly consulted his [Bardic Lore]. Were ghosts an actual thing int his world? Seemed likely. Yeah. Ghosts were definitely a thing. Haunted places, ditto.
The question was, in a city of illusion like this, how likely was it that this was an actual ghost versus the illusion of one? If he was going to try and scare intruders away from his expensive house, he’d certainly consider a permanent enchantment that mimicked a haunting.
But this was also a city that had been brutally invaded and had many of its citizens slaughtered. If anything was going to cause a raft of ghosts to inhabit a place, that was a pretty good candidate.
Only one way to find out.
‘Savra, anything you can do in case that’s a real ghost?’ he asked.
‘Yes,’ the seeress replied. ‘That, at least, this place has not taken from me.
‘Let’s go then!’ Vance said, beginning to stride up the stairs, eyes sparkling.
The man was far too enamoured of adventure.
‘So long as it is not an excessively powerful spectre, at any rate,’ Savra added.
Vance, to his credit, only froze a moment before carrying on up the stairs. Savra followed, a small smile on her face. Drev followed, then Robin and Jhess.
The stairs creaked and groaned beneath their feet. Small sparks of light flashed occasionally, a sign of runic structure finally giving way to age. Whatever preservation spells were worked into the place were on the verge of giving out.
Still, the party made it safely to the next level. Robin glanced down the hallway. It ran in either direction and seemed generally to be in better repair than the ground floor, though it was shrouded in dust. Possibly from when the wall at the other end had collapsed. A gaping hole allowed Robin to see out to the illusory stars that twinkled briefly on the ceiling.
‘To the left,’ Jhess called out softly. ‘Three doors down on the right.’
Vance moved forward, quick and quiet on his feet, with the rest of us following closely behind. The door in question was open, and faint traces of Jhess’s movement through her on her earlier scouting trip were apparent in the light Drev had conjured so they might make their way more easily.
The light flashed off of something in the room, sharp and bright. Drev sent the light higher, to float near the ceiling, and the alteration in angle made it easier to see what had caused the flash.
It was the corpse. Like the crysrats they had destroyed earlier, the body has crystals growing out its eyes, but that wasn’t all. Small outcroppings sprouted from all across the withered, almost mummified skin, and a veritable forest of spikes had forced their way out of the corpse’s mouth and cracked off its jaw.
‘That does not look like it was a pleasant way to go,’ Robin observed.
‘There are a few things still on the body,’ Jhess said, ‘but I didn’t want to touch them. Might still be a curse or a disease or wild magic clinging to him. I thought the experts should weigh in first.’
‘No magic that I can sense,’ Drev said after several moments.
‘Nor I,’ Vance concurred. ‘Well, not from the crystals or from the body. There are some items that register, I think. Something around his neck. That ring on his finger. The coin purse on his belt. Wait, maybe it’s something in the purse? I can’t tell without touching it.’
‘I do not sense any danger,’ Savra said, hesitantly. ‘Though of course I cannot be certain, in this place.’
‘Well let’s take a closer look, then!’ Jhess darted forward, happy enough with the risk levels now to take a chance.
I think we have the chance to stage your entrance to the party. Robin sent a thought winging its way to Rerebos. There’s a small hole in the ceiling of this room. Don your disguise and wait for my cue.
A way of assent mixed with a little annoyance and a great deal of excitement came back along their bond.
‘There’s a mundane satchel here as well,’ Drev noted, ‘and some kind of rucksack filled with equipment. Decent stuff, but nothing amazing. Some kind of explorer?’
‘He certainly found more then he was prepared for,’ Savra said, before beginning to mutter a prayer for the deceased.
Jhess was focused on carefully removing the equipment from the corpse, doing her best not to so much as brush any of the crystals, just in case. Robin opted to search the room for hidden compartments, or at least a hiding place where extra-valuable discoveries or supplies might be stashed.
Who didn’t like hiding a few trinkets away?
‘There’s a book in here. Some kind of journal.’ Drev called from where he was examining the contents of the satchel. ‘I’ve never seen one like this. And the writing implements are strange.’
Robin glanced over and froze. Drev was holding a clickable ballpoint pen. And the red journal in his other hand was clearly mass produced.
Another world-traveller? Robin wondered what Ruprecht would say when he found out. The dungeon was amassing energies, preparing to expand in the needed direction when they found a suitable base. He’d not be pleased to have missed out on this moment.
‘I cannot read the script,’ Drev said. ‘I don’t even recognise it.’
Now he had both Savra and Vance looking over his shoulder in interest. Drev waved a hand toward the bard.
‘What do you make of this? Anything you can piece together? Ring any bells in any stories or ballads you might know?’
Robin accepted the journal, gingerly opening the cover. The cover was textured like leather, but he could feel the fake plasticine nature of it. It was strange, and for a moment he felt almost homesick, but it was a distant, hollow feeling, more like the idea or echo of an emotion than the real thing.
It was in English. Most of it anyway. There were sections that were clearly encoded on top of being in a foreign language. Paranoid much?
Not that he could talk.
‘I’ll need several minutes,’ he said. ‘There is a lot here, and I don’t think it’s all in the same language.’ Code was almost a language all its own, right? Close enough.
Robin quickly scanned through it. Yeah, this was definitely another case of a displaced individual. The book opened with a short paragraph addressed to a potential reader. It listed several key facts, several names and dates. Robin felt the hair on the back of his neck rise.
This person—call him Red—was from a world very like Robin’s. Or like Ruprecht’s. Some of the big events overlapped, like the world wars, though there was also something about a plague? And a cure? Red was certainly frustrated about having been cooped up for a long time, and had apparently been whisked here just as he was able to safely go outside again?
Robin could practically feel the frustration emanating off the page in waves.
Different president, though, than Robin expected, even though the dates were very similar to his experience.
He suddenly found he couldn’t look at the corpse. What if it had once looked just like him? Just like Ruprecht? Before the crystal and the mummification?
Not a pleasant thought.
Looks like Red appeared here months ago. Possibly even a couple of years. This was hardly a reliable account of experiences. More like a mad jotting of notes. Important information. Red clearly knew he was working with limited resources.
There was no mention of a system, an interface, or any kind of prompts like that. Lots of gut instincts that turned out to be right, though. Maybe there was some sort of guidance in place but it worked subtly because Red was clearly too paranoid to ever trust something as obvious as Robin’s own interface?
There was more, however. Some of it immediately useful. Several sections of the city were mapped out, taking up several precious pages. Different locations were clearly marked, and there were several notes alongside.
Unfortunately most of these were in some kind of code. Robin’s [Tongue of the Fallen Tower] was of no help. There were some mentions of apparitions and ghosts that he could read, but nothing helpful like how to avoid, detect, or defeat them.
Annoyed, he flipped back to the beginning of the book, looking for any clues as to some kind of code or cipher key. This was someone from a world very like his. This was no coincidence. Some power or powers was clearly playing a game and Robin would like very much to know the stakes. His life depended on it.
Though he could guess.
There wasn’t any mention of Rhyth, or Urkhan though, that he could see. Unless it was encoded in one of the mysterious sections he couldn’t simply read. He really needed some kind of code key.
‘Is there any other text on his body,’ he asked while rereading the opening page.
He should have been paying more attention to the rest of the party, who had been watching him avidly.
‘Wait, can you read that?’ Drev asked, looking at him intently.
‘I can regognize some words,’ he hedged. ‘Something about ghosts?’
Rerebos, that’s your cue!
Robin did not want to go too deeply into answering that question, and his instincts worked at the speed of thought to avoid it.
There was a flutter of wings and a small shape dropped through the hole in the ceiling. Jhess’s knives are instantly in her hands, but thankfully the rogue refrains from throwing them immediately. A purple-white shield flares into existence around the party and the light reveals more details.
A sleek black and white cat is standing on the floor. He has four white socks, a white chest, and a white tip to his tail. There’s a blue-black sheen to his fur and the feathers of his wings when he flares them.
Rerebos was standing there looking like nothing so much as a cross between a tuxedo cat and a magpie. He quirked his head at the party, then sat himself down and began grooming himself, studiously ignoring everyone else.
Nicely done, Robin sent.
‘What is that?’ Jhess demanded.
Rerebos looked up, quirked his head to one side, and simply responded ‘mew?’
