the clock tower

[groundrules]

Happy Hallow-elevator! The clock tower event lasts between 22 October and 8 November. ICly, the tower incursion stretches around a week, and you’re welcome to have your character investigate something else, if they finish early!

THE CLOCK TOWER

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ALL IS AS ALL WAS| TRIAL & NO ERRORS | THE TOWER

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ALL IS AS ALL WAS

Play it cool, as Serthica’s customs officers pore over your passport papers, before grudgingly allowing you overground. Minaras, you hear, is hunting a delinquent.

Both it and Eidris fare well, with no sign of the damage that preceded the Unwinding. Locals no longer behave eerily, dragons and clockwork droids roam freely, and everyone hates taxes.

Yet perfect strangers insist they know you. Your assigned address leads to a different house. The roads, buildings and architecture look ‘lived in,’ but changed.

No one remembers the Unwinding.

■ Burlap mannequins sometimes watch from mirrors, windows and reflecting surfaces.

■ You might hear shifting and scratching in Eidris walls.

■ Minaras has doubled its bounty for a man not unlike Leonard McCoy.

■ Black fungal spores are found on the increasingly voluminous experiment vials, specimens and supplies thrown out by Minaras medical facilities.

■ Frail and confused, Ellethia survivor Zenobius finally awakens. A short thread is up for RNG grabs.

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TRIALS & NO ERRORS

The guard troops that Eidris and Minaras assign to the Neutral Zone now protect King Thivar and High Councillor Arabella during the annual Sanctuary Reckoning trials. Both adjudicate cases that violate the ceasefire.

Prolonging the trials buys time for your companions in the clock tower.

■ Create a distraction — flood the judgement hall rooms? Fire? Illusions?

■ Pose as trial participants: perhaps you are of Eidris, and you caught this wicked Minaraian raiding your home? Mayhap this wretched man of Eidris stole your girlfriend? Wait, you’re a Minaraian who wants to kill King Thivar?

■ …organise breakouts, if Thivar or Arabella have your jailed. You are first imprisoned in makeshift Sanctuary cells — all but poorly locked, glorified closets. Get a trial sentence!

■ Thivar and Arabella treat the trials as a box-ticking exercise.

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THE TOWER

As Eidris and Minaras play court, you can infiltrate the Neutral Zone clock tower of Vassarizhia.

■ Only token security remains. The door is unlocked.

■ Karsa supplies paper talismans that must be burned in the watch fire at the tower’s top level.

■ Each burned talisman amplifies the reveal spell that Karsa activates. Link a finished burning thread by 8 November to help the cause.

■ A November mod post will describe how much of Serthica’s ‘undeath’ characters can see.

■ Placing Magnus’ dragon eye before the tower’s telescope will allow characters to always see Serthica’s undeath, moving forward.

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✘ ELEVATOR ETIQUETTE

Imperfect stillness dominates Vassarizhia: your footsteps do not click, words die in your mouth. The tower’s rickety gear slither silently. Your heartbeat aligns with the clock’s tick… tock.
You have the growing, gnarly certainty that you have invaded something ancient and alive.

The tower’s entryway level is large, deserted, stacked with gears. At its core is a dilapidated open elevator shaft.

A large sign says to find and pull the floor lever, if elevators stop.

■ There are two elevators. Each narrow lift can hold up to four people, crammed. The upper half of the carriage is chain-link fence, while the floors contain hatches that sometimes open mid-travel for 30 seconds. Hold on to ceiling-bound leather straps.

■ The ropes holding the elevators are thick, but tattered.

■ The elevator’s creaking squeals can awaken swarms of 1m-tall bats and bat wyverns. They rattle the lift, but ultimately withdraw.

■ The elevator can stop at as many levels as you want (or none!).

■ Beyond the second level, you feel intensely paranoid and see your companions as the persons you most hate/fear for five to 10 minutes. Reaching the top, you are tempted to cut the lift ropes of those who follow. (The ropes and elevators recover, after crashing to the bottom. )

■ On each floor, as you exit the elevator, a nearby wall shows a different scratched instruction, signed by DAVID.

LEVEL I: THE LABYRINTH| LEVEL II: THE ANCESTOR | LEVEL III: TAG! YOU’RE IT
LEVEL IV: THE ROOM WHERE NOTHING HAPPENS | LEVEL V: IT’S RAINING (AGAIN)

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LEVEL I: THE LABYRINTH
CONTENT WARNING: MINOTAUR, BODY HORROR

Step into a jail maze, flooded to knee level. Confusing corridors narrow, widen and contort, while wall torches dim.

Intermittent howling reveals you’re not alone. Hiding, you see child-like chalk drawings of forest animals on walls — and a great minotaur. Keep silent.

■ David S P’s wall scrawl says, IT RUNS IN THE FAMILY.

■ Collect some of the many discarded daggers or axes. Rope bundles float in water — use them to paralyse your captive or briefly force them under your control.

■ Don’t linger in one place: rotting, bodiless hands surface to restrain you.

■ Bad news, if you swallow water when the minotaur or dead hands try to drown you: your skin stretches and bursts, while your bones pop and extend. You mutate into a half human, half woodland creature, all bloodlust. ( Inspiration, anyone? ) Your companions should still recognise you; between hazy memories and constant pain, you might struggle to remember them and even attack.

■ Morphed characters can (painfully) return to normal within minutes of re-entering the elevator.

■ A smaller and distressed three-headed minotaur also roams the labyrinth. Two of its heads sob, while the third urges you to hide with it when brother approaches. It tries to throttle you with a noose to make brother happy, if you follow. David did say.

■ The minotaur and its sibling have poor sight. They cannot enter a corridor where you’ve drawn or laid down a line.

■ Pull the lever, and a straight corridor leads you to the elevator.

TOP | LEVEL II | LEVEL III | LEVEL IV | LEVEL V

LEVEL II: THE ANCESTOR
CONTENT WARNING: GIANT SKELETON, BLOOD DRINKING

Here, only barren stone and thin rivulets of fresh water pouring from wall fountains with sharp-tipped ornaments — your spilled blood quickly infects the basins. Knives, pins and bowls have been abandoned nearby.

High pressure and vertigo overwhelm you. Follow a rhythmic heaving to where the upper half of an enormous skeleton — the Ancestor — has broken through a wall. White, silk thread fetters it. Dried blood rims its cracked mouth. Before it, the stone floor has been tarnished, up to a 5m radius.

The Ancestor appears dormant, a crown of iron thorns on its head. It clutches the lever tightly in its right hand. Above it, an engraving urges, SPILL WINE FOR YOUR ANCESTOR.

■ David S P’s elevator scrawl says, WATER TO WINE.

■ Dally staring and you feel dizzy, nauseous, depressed and compelled to share your close-death encounters. Before you know it, you are stepping into the Ancestor’s radius…

■ …where it plunges for you, if you don’t bear a filled cup. The silk ropes keep the Ancestor from reaching beyond 5m.

■ Two carvings under his fists read HONOUR THY FATHER and DISHONOUR THY MOTHER.

■ Quickly distract the Ancestor from crumbling his captives, tearing their arms or attempting to eat them.

■ The Ancestor is instinct-driven, consumed by thirst. It cannot see or smell, and only remembers taste. Sounds divert it.

■ Improvise: there is no actual wine here. Infuse water, spill blood, or vocally pretend you are delivering wine, and the Ancestor might spare you.

■ If sated, the Ancestor releases the lever.

TOP | LEVEL I | LEVEL III | LEVEL IV | LEVEL V

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LEVEL III: TAG! YOU’RE IT
CONTENT WARNING: SCARECROW, SKINNED CREATURES

Enjoy pitch dark, dread and bile spreading in your gut. Take a candle from near the elevator and roam through small, unlocked rooms that feature tattered beds, strips of tanning leather and blood or wax spilled on the floor.

■ David S P’s wall scrawl says, O CATCHES IT.

■ Ahead, you see candle-bearing mannequins that dance a hora to the same song played by Jim Kirk’s music box: “Up the mountain, in the grove, hand in hand to Ke-Waihu, fresh harvest’s a treasure trove, each fall we feast anew.”

■ The creatures are patched abominations of wax, skinned flesh and burlap. In the middle of the hora is a wiry scarecrow, eyes blazing with candle fire as it points a large cleaver. In certain lights, the scarecrow’s face briefly contorts into that of your mother. It wears priestly robes that Arc III survivors may recognise from the House of Ravens.

■ As the dance finishes, you notice the lever in the middle of the circle, where flame spells out TAKE THEM, NOT ME. The game begins.

■ The abominations run, gleefully manic and screaming TAAAA~AAAAAG. YOU’RE IT! The scarecrow unflinchingly cuts them down while pursuing you. Hide in the abandoned rooms, or risk snuffing your candle to avoid detection.

■ Some abominations slap you, hold you, or alert the scarecrow. Others offer shelter. A few peel off wax skins from their limbs — showing black fungi beneath. They murmur, IT NEVER GOES AWAY.

■ Parchment strips fall from the scarecrow’s sleeves, reading, HAPPY NAME DAY, MOTHER KNOWS BEST, THE SIN RAN DEEPER THAN SKIN, IF YOU CAN BEAR IT, IT’S A GAME.

■ Bless David: draw the scarecrow into a drawn or makeshift circle to trap it.

■ Intense, paralysing fear arrests you, if the scarecrow catches you. The wax abominations chant, TAKE THEM, NOT ME. One might even take pity and move your numbed mouth to utter the words. Say them — and the scarecrow lands deep cuts on your arms, then pursues your companion.

■ If you betray someone, the abominations take the appearance of your worst version: whether physically mutated, with a temper that amplifies your worst features, or both.

TOP | LEVEL I | LEVEL II | LEVEL IV | LEVEL V

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LEVEL IV: THE ROOM WHERE NOTHING HAPPENS
CONTENT WARNING: MANIPULATION, MENTAL COERCION

You enter a quiet room. The lever sits on a table, beside rope and a dagger. As you approach, your surroundings transform: perhaps your dearest dead appear to warmly welcome you. Crowds of your doubters celebrate your success. Or you are in a calm oasis, where nothing hurts.

■ David S P’s wall scrawl says, THIS DREAM IS A NIGHTMARE.

■ Whatever your deepest wishes, the room’s vivid illusions provide. With time, your beautiful dreams deteriorate into horror. Sometimes, you hear whispers of, Make a wish.

■ The room increasingly drains your life force. Within half an hour, you have gaunt flesh, brittle bones and a hunched back. Or you might feel compelled to harm yourself, clawing your arms and face, or pulling your hair out.

■ The damage comes undone minutes after reaching the elevator.

■ The room focuses on one person: if someone joins you, they see fainter echoes of what the room shows you, but they are not enthralled. They must coax or drag you away.

■ If you are under the room’s influence, it forces you to make any later intruders stay.

TOP | LEVEL I | LEVEL II | LEVEL III | LEVEL V

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LEVEL V: IT’S RAINING (AGAIN)
CONTENT WARNING: PLAGUE, THE CHILD

At the tower’s open-sky top, fire crackles from a small stone pit, shielded by a familiar, immovable blood-spattered white umbrella. Nearby, discover an immense rusted telescope and other discarded astronomy tools.

You trip on rain-battered yellowed bones at every step. One skeletal hand holds a watch piece, engraved for Mr. David Sebastian Pumpkins.

■ David S P’s has only scrawled his signature.

■ You might reach the flame easily, or be overwhelmed by sickness, black fungal spores blooming on your fingers, while you cough blood and experience intense fever. The symptoms wane once you reach the fire.

■ Burn paper talismans and link finished threads to help Karsa’s spell.

■ The child with a fox mask from the Unwinding could appear. Sign up for one of three short threads, which must finalise by 3 November.

NOTES

■ Some of the bigger plot clues have been emphasised, to help navigate through the horror details.

■ You can hit up some NPCs during the trials.

■ Check out plotting posts for last-minute team-ups.

■ Back to the top.

QUESTIONS

Comments

vanessa ives

[matermali]

LEVEL III } lan wangji

[matermali]

She's nearly slipped twice on either wax or blood. The lack of coordination is foreign, but not surprising given how her harrowed walk carries her through the darkness like someone chased by something even bleaker than shadows.

The first mannequin she spots draws a flinch and gives her pause. Her candle flickers, but then Vanessa squints through the ominous glows of what she assumes to be a ritual. It leaves her stricken in the meager light of her own candle. No good comes of rituals. Just pain. The pain of momentarily seeing a woman who always walked over her own broken heart.

The first casualty. Or was it her second? A tremble to ponder on the math.

[downswing]

( Waxed translucence on his hands, licking his soles, sticking his step. There's a pleasant, snapped, torn finality to tearing strips of the flooring in his wake, wrenching splinters like guts. Carefully, he skips the true intestines.

Dark, cloying. Suffocating. Trickles of light beside him spread too warm. More fool he, he renounces his candle — better subterfuge than an earnest betrayal of his whereabouts. Needs must, Wei Ying's architecture of last-resort talismans.

Now, the hunting of man(nequin), of monster. Bichen, long-daggered and biting in his hand, blade revealed to catch candle's light. He has seen the mannequins congregate, suffered the folly of their presence, the starting steps of their dance — watches them now in drunken madness, a chaos of silhouettes spinning, sparring, summoning — ...no, it was there. Is there, all along. The priest. No, the man. No, once more, the... )

...is it human?

( He has spotted her, the woman-wraith, skirts ragged, pallor varnished. Impossible, in a deluge of errant and sinister figures, not to see the last vestige of humanity. There, ahead, they both watch the circle like cats chasing prey. )

[matermali]

I shouldn't think so.

[ It can't be. Her denial more than a fact, but her heels dig into the concept. Even though there is no clarity when understanding the workings of humans, and Vanessa continues to be humbled by it.

Though his voice had made her start, she takes a foolish comfort in someone joining her and appreciating the questions presented over the fear of it. Someone with a face, one that she knows should come from the living.

Her hand lifts to shield the small flame when she takes notice that he has none, blowing out the little light. They haven't noticed her yet, but she would rather not be the one to give away their position. She shouldn't fear the darkness anymore. ]

Perhaps it once was. Now...no longer. [ A short sigh. Her whisper grates. ] Or it is another illusion. ...Did the village, the one before, have such rituals?

[downswing]

( There is perversion in this, how their words scratch the surface, like children playing the long game of skating a sheet of thinned ice, chancing a dip into cold-clawed depths. The creatures who neglect them now, who adjourn for their games, might yet know them.

Might reach and screech and cull them, as all in this tower has so far attempted. He wishes, not for the first time, for a kindly welcome — for Bichen to begrudge him her unsheathing, taste the skin of his thumb and the pearl of his own blood after, and not fall upon fresh carnage.

But then, he wears already the bathing waters of a minotaur's gutting and the gravel of large human remains intent on crushing him against a wall. What is more debris, still? )

Corrupted rites. ( Perfunctory, husked. As if he were giving a lesson to students who long despair of it. ) Purification sought through cruel repentance.

( Loss, deprivation, agony. Unseen, his mouth vinegars to a scowl. ) Restitution through sacrifice of the purest. A fire mountain.

( You might be forgiven for thinking Lan Wangji did not enjoy his time in Ke-Waihu. )

[matermali]

[ The muck that drags at her black skirts may be impossible to see against dark and then more dark, but she still feels the sting and weight of it; not only skin deep. There's no repentance for her, not even from the face of her own mother. Vanessa shrugs grimly at any hope of purity for her.

Staying close for the sake of a whisper, Vanessa still smiles a little grimly, despite the inevitable danger this will present. Always danger. ]

A volcano? I see none. [ A weapon is spotted in the scarecrow's grip, though. Doubt present for the intended sacrifice. ] Only the face of a ghost.

[downswing]

This need not be as that was.

( Though the signs persist and prevail, though he takes in the candle scent of fire and oil ripened, and he recognises, instantly, that their surroundings are like the calligraphy of a man who has copied the same rule book a hundred times already — whose form has given way to perfunctory efficiency, to negligence, to indifference.

That this is Ke-Waihu, somehow. Perverted.

That this is something new, somehow. Built on old bones.

That the monster, the corruption, the strange thing before them is old ground, revisited. He thinks, more fool he, when the scarecrow turns its scratched, torn face under certain lashes of light, its cheek is pale. Smooth. A woman's visage.

He shudders, failure to remember now the failure to breathe. Lan Zhan, Lan Wangji, Hanguang-Jun. Who was she, your lady mother, scorned? )

Whom do you see before you?

[matermali]

[ Where they hide in the dark, there's some grace in letting oneself believe that the other can't see their agitations. Where pale knuckles disappear when her fingers twist in her skirt, there might as well be a void. If only it could swallow her shame, but that curse feels too massive, like the boulder in her throat.

...What does he see? Better to be honest. Perhaps it isn't just her own visions haunting her. Can he see something? The same thing? Or his own sins? ]

My mother. [ Hunched shoulders as she tries to keep her gaze away from it, but she can't shut out the music. ] Can you see her?

[downswing]

No.

( This, certain, slant of his gaze sharpening further when it lands on the scarecrow again, when he glimpses wood and twigs and twine. When the creature's false mouth seems to broaden, while the chanting stokes.

It will erupt soon, this tension, this rite. Whatever it is they summon will come, and Lan Wangji's hand is yet too soft on his sword, he should know better than to lie in wait. Unless he kills. Unless he heeds his nature, his duty, cold sweat parading down his nape.

He knows, intrinsically, the true options set before them. Sleep of the dead or slaughter. He travels with a woman-wraith already. Might as well. )

I believe... ( And uncertainty settles and stretches here, like a marine current absorbing all the space available to it. ) My own mother. It makes weapon of memories.

LEVEL IV } "five" hargreeves

[matermali]

It's remarkable that Vanessa has been through this trial before, and each time the room pins its attention on someone else first. Quite used to being the focal point for visions and possessions, she may be somewhat insulted, but even her sense of adventure isn't that desperate. She knows how lucky it is to turn from the familiar scrawl on the wall and see something that isn't quite there, and to know it isn't real. How often does Vanessa get such a luxury? To tell illusion from reality is no small feat for her.

But there's no enjoyment in it, because it means someone else must suffer a delusion. This time it's someone who she knows to have sharp senses when faced with a mystery, but perhaps not so in this case. He doesn't yet know that any beauty he sees will turn ugly before long.

Having been through this before, she circles cautiously. If she's going to pull the lever, it may be best for him to be distracted by whatever calls to him.

[somebadnews]

The last few floors haven't been kind to Five. He's dragged himself up to the fourth without dying, but he's far from unscathed. Blood runs down his side from cuts he couldn't reach, and it's only determination that keeps him moving forward. If he wasn't so close to the end, closer to whoever made them suffer, he'd be more inclined to abandoning the tower and deciding they should find another way.

This room is quiet, save for the whispers in his ear that seem to ease his overworked mind. Slowly, a light illuminates in front of him and polished floors stretch in front of him. The warmth from a fireplace invites him forward with a familiar portrait hanging above.

"Where...," his paranoia might have held him back then, but he trails off as he sees a figure turn towards him. At first a battered torso of mannequin, but in a blink she's a slender blonde woman who looks at him like he's a long lost love that miraculously returned to her. The opposite is true. He saw her crumble in the rain, but that wasn't... that wasn't really her, was it?

Speechless at first, when his words return to him they're revenant and loving. Distinctly Italian. "Dolores. I thought I'd lost you."

When he looks around again, the room isn't so empty. The great walls of the Academy fill the space, and he can't remember how he got here or if it matters. He's so tired of trying to get back here, and as much as he knows he will, he's afraid to question how it happened. His family...

Movement catches his eye and he turns on his heel, expecting to see his siblings standing in the foyer, but instead a different woman approaches. Recognition dawns slowly, and he calls out even as Dolores grips his arm to keep him near.

"You." The woman from the tea party. "You followed me? Why?"

[matermali]

The sight of a mannequin leaves Vanessa frozen in place, only for the twist in her belly to worsen when the blank face of a mannequin is replaced with the visage of a beautiful woman in love. Perhaps not the sort of love befitting someone with Five's appearance. In the Unwinding, she had been drawn to his strangeness, but the implications now leave her sickened.

Rather nervous about invading this vision, Vanessa keeps her hands at her side and glances to the lever. He can't be more trouble than Fei, can he? Would she be willing to abandon him if he proved to be? ...Would he let her?

"Presumptuous of you. I assure you that I only wish to continue on my way."

[somebadnews]

That has to be one of the worst lies Five has ever heard. Vanessa looks sorely out of place, and time, in the mansion. But she's notably alive. She might sound a little more grateful if she knew where they could be standing. He needs to check the date to be sure. As much as he wants to question it, something in the air tells him that it's April 2nd, 2019. The day after the apocalypse.

He won't risk taking her back to whenever she's from, and for that he can only be partially sympathetic. Dolores hangs on his arm as he watches where she goes.

"The door is behind you." Away from that lever, that doesn't feel as out of place as it really should. Five stays aware of her when he turns back to his wife and smiles softly at her. He thought he'd left her with her friends, but he doesn't ask why she's suddenly back at the Academy.

"Have you seen the others? Where are they?" Dolores doesn't answer, but puts a reassuring hand on his cheek and kisses him. Tells him not to worry. They'll be here soon.

[matermali]

It isn't really a lie; she does want to continue on her way. Just...not in the way he must be imagining, if he thinks the streets outside of his home are what await her. She can only assume this is home. It's lovely, but dangerous, and so is the mannequin woman that has Five in her thrall, if he is to meet the same threat as Fei.

She doesn't respond to him, only looking away when they kiss, for bitter consideration if nothing else. For now, she leaves him to the danger, hoping the woman will distract him while she marches (limps) with purpose to the lever. If she can trigger it and the exit, then she will need to somehow find the strength to remove the lovestruck child from his banal fantasy before it turns on him.

Knowing something of his abilities, Vanessa doesn't look forward to it. She's already injured and weakened.

[somebadnews]

Five seems to forget all about the interloper for one blissful moment. He closes his eyes and lets his head rest on Dolores' shoulder as he feels her arms drape around him, taking a deep shivering breath. It's been a long time since he could breathe so easy. To have one second where he could relax.

He turns back to her, calmer, and makes his way over with his hand still clutching Dolores'. Vanessa honestly looks terrible. She'd been limping back in the Unwinding too. Five's own wounds feel far away, and the cursed anguish he's so accustomed to carrying lifted like he'd left it behind on his way back. He doesn't know how he managed to fix himself in the time jump, but he can play with the math later to see how that happy accident occurred.

For now, he looks apologetic.

"I'm sorry, you didn't deserve that. You should have Grace take a look at you." He glances at Dolores for confirmation that she's here somewhere. He starts to raise his voice, but just as he's about to call for his mother, another blonde woman appears. She stands in the doorway, perfectly dressed and wearing a broad robotic smile. ("Five, dear. Do we have a guest for dinner?")

"She'll get you fixed up before you leave." He nods to Grace, who seems to immediately understand what she's being asked and moves towards the other woman. Grace is better than any hospital he could direct her to. Vanessa is going to be on her own in a new time period, the least he can do is clean her up first.

[matermali]

Another exceedingly attractive blonde enters the scene, and Vanessa cannot feel more out of place with her dark, tangled hair and bloodied person. Perhaps the blood is difficult to see against the darker still dress of ripped satin and frayed lace. The leather accessories and her boots are warped from the dampness they still carry. If she feels awkward, though, it's more for intruding upon an apparently very specific fantasy of Mr. Hargreeves. She certainly has nothing like these women to try and lure him out of it, but she'll need to try for his sake. He may not be of close acquaintance, but she is not heartless (if she can help it).

"No, thank you, I really will be on my way just shortly."

Despite moving away from what he perceives as the door. The interference of the one called Grace leaves Vanessa bowing her head to try and move around her. She may be able to walk right through her, but it feels disrespectful, somehow. The visions themselves aren't malicious, not yet.

She manages to yank the lever before Grace can turn around, and Vanessa hopes that it's something that isn't even visible in the vision. As for how to take Five with her when the exit opens up, she keeps the rope in her eyesight, but she already knows that catching him could prove most difficult even with it.

[somebadnews]

Grace listens a little too well, and she pauses in her steps to smile sweetly when she politely declines her help. Five immediately feels suspicious, but he can feel Dolores' hand squeeze his, trying to tell him that he doesn't have to worry about everything now that he's back. It might take more than that to remind him after a lifetime of never being able to let his guard down. It'll take some adjustment.

He's about to let Vanessa off the hook, but when he looks back she's pulling at something and he suddenly appears beside her in a flash of light.

"What are you doing?" He'd like to be able to relax, but she very obviously is up to something. Grace steps forward again, looking concerned, and in the distance a new voice joins them.

("Welcome home, Master Five.") Five turns on his heel to see a bespectacled chimpanzee dressed in a suit, and his expression softens momentarily before he shifts his gaze back to the woman in question.

"Where would you go?" Really, she doesn't belong here, but it's ridiculous to go off on her own. His eyes trail to what she was fiddling with, uncomprehending. "And why are you in such a hurry?"

LEVEL V

[soloritur]

[ Marcos crosses himself as soon as he sees all the bones littering the fifth floor. There's a heaviness here that makes the air feel thick and he doesn't know what might greet him after what happened on the way up. He walks slowly towards a fire that seems out of place next to the giant telescope.

Who lit the fire? How did they know it would be here?

He's about to reach for his talisman when he sees a figure out of the corner of his eye. He turns with his palm up and pointed towards the shadow, only to find a woman standing there. One look and he can tell it hasn't been an easy journey for her. ]

Hey. [ He has concern in his gaze as he slowly lowers his arms and takes a step towards her. In the flickering light he can't tell if she's injured, but he's not trying to startle her by using his powers without warning. ] ...I hope you don't mind having company, I was in the area.

Did you already do it?

[matermali]

[ The logic behind the fire's existence doesn't make any more sense than anything else she's suffered through to get here. The strings that connect people have been plucked and tangled, and Vanessa has been forced to ascend beyond such a mess in order to trudge her way over bones. The fact that she is trusting strangers with a spell she knows nothing about only vexes her further. How is she to know that burning this talisman won't curse the lot of them further?

How is she to do anything else?

The umbrella catches her eye more than any fire or bones, but even more-so is the man crossing himself before he too begins his trek. She might have done the same, once. Another life it seems. Who is she to plead for God's protection?

She's trusted the unholy or the pagan magics to get her this far, so why not now? ]

Not yet.

[ Company... Had she not just damned the last one with her? New friends be wary, but she doesn't turn him away. They're heading in the same direction, regardless, are they not?

Her steps are slow, unsteady. After her last fall, the limp has worsened, but she manages just fine without falling. ]

May many of us pass through this...area, for a cause that I hope proves worthy.

[soloritur]

[ He makes his way slowly towards her, stepping over yellowed bones that litter the path towards the fire. They look human, and it's hard not to get distracted by what happened here. Is this where they kept people who were dying of the plague? Or is it what the mannequins are made of? It turns his stomach to imagine, so he instead focuses on the woman. ]

Were you waiting for someone? [ Trying at a casual tone doesn't really work, given the circumstances, but he can understand her hesitance given everything that happened on the way here. ]

Or did you see someone else do it? I haven't heard what happens, once they burn.

[matermali]

[ Although she tries to be careful in avoiding any mishaps, she has been through a trial that has left her weak and unsteady. Pain is the worst in her leg, her arms, or when she breathes, but she manages to keep from falling so far. Although one stumble does lead to a yellowing skull crunching underneath her soggy boot, Vanessa barely offers it a glance of sorrow before struggling on. Whatever sad reason they met their end, it isn't the first time that Vanessa has walked through bodies to do what must be done.

Her breath is a pained, tired wheeze, and her words rasp. They always do, of course. Were you waiting for someone? No, she quite left someone behind. Forcibly so. She still feels dazed about it. Was it all real? No answer there. ]

The Merchant said that it may reveal the state of the world. I assume that many must be burned for it to work, given the great reach that this sort of spell must require.

[soloritur]

[ Marcos sees her struggling and immediately closes the space between them in case she falls. It looks like they really should be tending to injuries, but he knows she just wants this over with as much as he does. So as much as he wonders what happened on the floors he missed, he's going to guide her through this first.

They put them through all this, only to burn some paper. Magic that he doesn't understand, and might not matter in the end. He only came to the tower to help whoever he found, and it just so happens he found her. ]

Careful. [ He coaxes her to slow down. There's not a hurry. Nothing is chasing them now. ] Here, take my hand. We'll do it together.

[matermali]

[ Though she hasn't spurned his company, the offer to take her hand is received with a flinch, and she scratches at the inside of her wrist with a shake of her head. Her frown is sour. She has been forced to use and betray others, when they weren't doing the same to her. Vanessa doesn't know who she trusts less at the moment: herself, or everyone else.

Of course there's a hurry. She must be done with this. ]

I did not reach this point only to collapse now. I am quite fine.

[ Perhaps not quite fine, but she does manage to keep from outright falling over for most of the journey. It's only just at the end that another stumble nearly carries her right into the fire, but his insistent nearness pays off as the overly helpful man catches her. The force of it drags at her breath, as pain shoots from her ribs, and as soon as he pulls back onto her feet, Vanessa jerks away from him with a confused glare. ]

...Thank you.

[ Somehow, in her daze, they've arrived whole. Somehow, so is the talisman that she pulls free. Curious, she'll glance at him to see if he has any qualms about such a pagan ceremony. The cross he formed suggested he believes in God, after all.

Hers is tossed into the flames silently, without fuss. ]

[soloritur]

[ Marcos is well accustomed to strong women, so he doesn't begrudge her for wanting to make those last steps on her own. Especially after making it all the way here. He only jumps in when she nearly falls, and offers a brief smile at her thanks.

He worries for her the more she stumbles. She might not be ready to talk about what they did to her, but as soon as they're done here, he's already planning to find a healer to take a look at her leg.

Thankfully nothing else is waiting for them at the fire. He watches hers burn before he pulls out his talisman and tosses it in after. It's gone in an instant, and with it any reservations he had about what might happen. But the air is quiet all around them. Blissfully anti-climatic after what it took to get here, even if it's hard to trust that they're safe until they're back out of the tower. ]

That's that. [ He hopes it did something, and it wasn't just a series of trials to test how far they'd go. The fact that she's the only one up here isn't encouraging that many of them reached the fifth floor. His gaze drifts to the bones at their feet and he feels sick for them. How many people have died in this tower?

The telescope in the corner seems so out of place, but that's probably what they used to use the tower for. Before whatever happened here took hold. He sniffs and looks back to her. ]

Unless you'd like to do some stargazing, I don't think we should stick around.

[matermali]

[ The stargazing remark garners a wan smile as she limps around the fire to reach for the umbrella, though she's surprised to find she can't lift it or move it. Staring at it, Vanessa knows there's more to this venture than just the talismans. There's more up here.

A glance for the telescope, then back to Marcos. What is he fighting for? Does he do this because he was told to, or for his own reasons? He doesn't seem to know much about what's going on, but then even for Vanessa's investigations, she remains woefully ignorant as well. ]

Stargazing, no. People gazing, however...? Mr. Bane has a dragon eye through which the dead can be revealed. Imagine how useful it may be with such a telescope.

[ She's never seen one of that size, but Serthica has been a city full of firsts. ]

I will stay for now, but I do not fault you for going. May I ask a question, though?