A Ruin– The Oracle’s Sepulcher
The Nameless One
The End was approaching. How fast it would come, and what lay at its conclusion, even the Exile could not say. It Saw without eyes, and what it Saw rarely surprised it anymore. Such was the unfortunate consequence of eons upon epochs of Seeing- Watching silently. Patterns emerged, and swelled and grew until the point where it was difficult to see the trees for the forest. All of it was but swirl and eddy in the same unending dark.
But now, the End drew near, and as the Exile Watched, the mechanical beast came ever closer, with the mortal inhabitants aboard and straining always forward. Its lips curled into a smile, for it knew well enough what they sought, even if they themselves would never understand. Such an interesting way for it to play out- it had been expecting the one who called himself an architect of men. Alas, one small act of defiance had shifted the wind, and brought before the Exile something else entirely.
A different tree did not signal a different forest. The agent was unimportant, only the act.
The Exile shifted form, and emerged to greet its guests.
The Decadence - Upper Deck - Midship
Rhys Wilcox, The Tempest
As it was, he woke sometime the next day, paid enough attention to notice that the crew had increased by some and decreased by others, as it had a tendency to do, but he didn’t bother learning names or asking after hobbies or any of that entirely useless nonsense, because chances were they’d all be pretty dead soon anyway.
He did take note of the scared-looking redhead, but only because the captain had mentioned that she wasn’t to be harmed. Now, Rhys was not exactly a polite man, and certainly had no qualms about violence, but he usually didn’t challenge the crew to fights unless he was angry. Ergo, the fact that Barvassi had mentioned it had less to do with his own habits and more to do with the wench’s importance. Apparently, she’d be leading them into and out of their death traps of choice for a while, since they were presently without a navigator.
Whatever. Women were boring and men were stupid, or some such adage his mother had been fond of. Rhys thought that was a bit unfair- everyone was both.
He was below deck, finishing up his repairs on Tempest, when the ship began to descend. Refitting the last metal plate, he hopped down from his perch atop the mech’s bent knee and wiped his oily hands on a nearby rag, looking up at the ceiling as though he could see through it to find out what was going on. He couldn’t, of course, but that didn’t make much difference. Pocketing Tempest’s call device, he stretched lazily and drifted up the stairs, poking his head outside to see everyone who knew what they were doing running about the deck and making ready to land. The moons were out, the one of them nearly full and the other about halfway out, which meant that there was quite a bit of light to see by, especially if you happened to have mechanically-enhanced vision.
Advancing to the prow, he plucked the spyglass from the short-scared-girl’s hands and looked through it. Below them lay the landscape of the Philippine Kingdom, and he could almost see the beacon of the ravein city off in the distance, but this was a much less-populated area from the look of it. What few buildings there were lay in ruins, lost to the shifting desert sands. There were quite a few bioluminescent plants in the area, casting the edges of toppled columns and walls into sharp relief.
Collapsing the glass and handing it back to the girl (who wisely hadn’t bothered to protest), he turned around smartly and helped finish the landing preparations. A small contingent of the crew would be left behind to guard the ship, but it looked like the majority of the able-bodied ones would be disembarking to walk straight into who-knew-what.
It sounded like fun, actually.
Once all the preparations had been made, the crew assembled and were led off the boarding platform by the captain himself. If nothing else, that alone convinced Rhys that this was the real deal: a good old fashioned treasure hunt. He tended to prefer raids, but even those could get monotonous after a while.
The girl with the strange device walked beside him, occasionally pointing the way but otherwise keeping quiet, and it wasn’t long before the sand grew more solid beneath their feet, giving way to what once must have been a bricked road. It led through a number of archways, and eventually to an entrance that was not noticeable from the sky: a grand set of doors that seemed to lead underground.
The group of them stopped for a moment, several of the crew gawking at their surroundings. It was understandable, perhaps: that path was bordered now by stone-cut channels, through which flowed water clear as crystal. The lit plants were enough to reveal several others: surprisingly lush growth and flowers he at least had never seen before, in all kinds of strange colors.
The door itself was flanked with two massive statues, constructed of metal and stone to resemble men, holding wrought-bronze axes the size of two fully-grown men. In front of the portcullis, though, stood a figure, and that sole sign of life was the only thing that Rhys bothered looking at. One hand slid into his pocket, depressing a button on the call device for Tempest. Something wasn’t quite right here; how often did ancient ruins have living people still in them?
Once the rest had finally noticed, the figure approached, unhurried. It appeared to belong to a female, and though his first guess was majnun, mostly from the eerie bluish tint to her skin, it wasn’t nearly so certain up close. Eyes too large for her face were a dark red from lid to lid, with nothing resembling an iris or a pupil, and her skin was a shifting canvas of blues and greys, apparently moving. She wore quite a substantial amount of gem-encrusted gold jewelry after the manner of wealthy ravein, and white robes of some kind that might have been a very, very old human design. Her lips were purple, and her hair a darker blue than her skin.
“And so the compass finds bearers once more,” she said, and her voice had a strange multiplicity to it, as if many people, all with different tones, were speaking in perfect unison. “A shame, that what you seek is no longer here. Though… I think you may yet still obtain it, if you possess the courage.”
A quick glance in the captain’s direction revealed the girl looking considerably confused by something, glancing furtively at the statues in the background.
“What say you, sky-pirates? A test of your merits?”
Between the Great Asian Ocean & Japan Lake
Shroud Ruins – Proving Grounds
Summer - Noon - Day 7 - Cycle 3012
"We are not mere sky pirates, woman; we are The Asura. And if all that stands between us and glory, is a test? Then you only need to show us the way and prepare to be awed." Surge spoke with utmost confidence, displaying all the bravado one would expect from a degenerate-womanizing-pirate-captain.
The woman smiled, a secretive little expression that nevertheless belied something between amusement and a touch of condescension, but nodded and flicked one wrist, almost absently. Behind her, as if on cue, the massive doors parted as well. It was all very ominous and peculiar, one couldn't help but wonder if it was all an elaborate trap; the Architect had gone through much more to ensure Surge's death, in the past. Yet, the thrill of adventure was so enticing! The knowledge that danger could lie around the next corner and that death could come at any moment, was enough to flood one’s system with adrenaline. But if that wasn't enough, then discovering what was thought to be lost and acquiring treasures of priceless sums would surely seduce the soul. Looking back at his crew, Surge met each one of their eyes and nodded, receiving the same back meant they were ready. Once confirmed, together, in a single file line, they marched toward their destiny.
The door shut behind them, leaving no other choice but to go forward. The path was lit by bio-luminescent vines, which traced the floors, walls, and ceiling in a strange, unnatural pattern of straight lines and angles. They descended a few flights of stairs until emerging in a large spacious cavern. From there, the vines died off, leaving them to their own devices to navigate the darkness. As Barvassi took the first step, he must have activated whatever magic or technology that lay dormant, because at that moment the room came to life.
Large torches mounted along the wall ignited, revealing the room to be circular and dome-like with a giant chandelier hanging from the ceiling. In the center of the room was a massive circular platform with engraved markings craved into the surface. Serving as guardians, large statutes were erected along the edges to protect one from a tragic fall. Surrounding the aforementioned platform was a pit of fire that reached unknown depths; despite this, the flames managed to climb to the top as if trying to escape. Dividing the pit was a pair of bridges that lead to and from the platform. Surveying all of this were balconies built into the walls. The grandest of them contained a single spectator: the woman they thought they had left behind.
"What lies before you is your test. You need but step into the center and display your courage and bravery in a feat of strength." The woman paused, but not so long as to allow them a chance to speak. "Aut vincere aut mori." Message delivered, their mysterious oracle dispersed and left them to their fate.
Barvassi and his crew did the only thing they could do and made their way center stage. Just as soon as they did, the bridges on either side collapsed into the fiery pits, permanently removing the option to retreat. Simultaneously, there was a pulse of energy that erupted from the center of floor and traveled up the statues. The statutes shook violently as they sprung to life, breaking free of their stone prisons to reveal their true mechanized form. Wary from their slumber, they clambered toward their challengers. However, Surge would not wait from them to breech their line -- several shots were fired from his Hand Cannon. The large ballistic rounds met their mark in the form of a single guardian's head. The towering sentinel stopped and fell to its knee, before recovering and continuing its steady march.
It was clear to Barvassi that this would be different from any battle he had fought before. These machines were more than nuts and bolts, they had another quality to them. Whatever it was, it would take everything they had to leave this room alive. "Well..." he sighed heavily, "I -- We really stepped in it this time, huh?" Barvassi joked as he removed his captain's coat and threw it aside, revealing his bare chest; the only armor he needed. He flexed and stretched briefly, before launching into battle with a morale-raising battle cry. "Give 'em hell!"
Shroud Ruins – Proving Grounds – Central Chamber
Estelle Amorica, The Emperor’s Alchemist
Estelle was already uncomfortable. As the only person who actually possessed the ability and knowledge required to work the compass and the engine, she’d of course been required to follow the pirates into the ruin the map had indicated.
It was obviously of Shroud construction; no existing civilization possessed the capability and desire for designs and architecture like this. It was a commonly-held theory that humans, ravein, and majnun had taken splintered aspects of this “master culture” as it was sometimes called, for themselves, but none had the full grasp of it. The Architect wished very much to uncover the secrets of the past, to engineer the return of a civilization so great that its people might as well have been gods.
She thought it was power nobody should ever have, but she was hesitant to express this opinion in present company.
The statues had made her uneasy from the beginning. There was something almost… lifelike to them, as though they were something more than stone and metal. It was a problem alchemists encountered when trying to manipulate the human body; there was a factor that could not be precisely calculated that lent the reactions something of a mystic quality, a gap in understanding that came not from salt and water or whatever else you could name. It was almost, almost here, too.
As they proceeded deeper into the ruin, guided along what seemed to be the only real pathway, she could not disguise her curiosity. Carved into the stone walls around them were ancient tales of valor and glory, from accounts of old arena fights between the Shroud’s most dedicated warriors to the discoveries of the magi of old. One even appeared to be an alchemist, bent over a workbench with a pile of lead on one side and an aureate metal- probably gold- on the other. The inscriptions themselves were faded, but that one was not too hard to decipher: the philosopher’s stone. Estelle shivered, feeling a smidge guilty, before realizing that the group was leaving her behind and hurrying to catch up.
Their guide had reappeared, and if asked, she would have advised the captain not to speak to the woman in such a way, as she might well have the kind of information he needed. Perhaps fortunately, she was never really asked. As things played out, the woman vanished, and Estelle tensed, unsure of what that heralded. When the first creaks signaled the movement of the five statues that ringed the area, all about twice the height of the tall, green-haired man, she swallowed thickly, largely unmoved by Barvassi’s inspiring battle-cry.
It was almost ironic that of all people, she had such a concern for her mortality.
The great automata, for that was what they surely must be, the half-sentient guardians of the Shroud, were rushing forward, and Estelle grimaced. This would probably have to be a divide-and-conquer sort of thing, but it would be easier if they didn’t have to deal with all of them at once. Moving as quickly as possible, she took the bracelet on her wrist and transmuted it into a small knife, even as a few of the more battle-inclined crew took their positions or charged forward for direct engagement. Hurriedly, she scratched a small circle into the stone beneath her feet, then several other shapes inside of that.
By the time Rhys reached the opponent the captain had staggered, the circle was complete, and Estelle wasted no time activating it. “Stand back!” she warned those who remained; mostly the distance fighters or those that weren’t immediately sure what to do. Her open palms struck the ground with a flash of violet light, and she exhaled slowly, willing the reaction to take place.
The effect was immediate: radiating outward from the circle, the stone rippled like water for a moment, reforming into new shapes and hardening again until it was solid. What they had now were solid battlements, slanted so that they formed a v- shape towards her and away from the incoming sentinels, on the friendly side of the circle. Stairs on the near side of those battlements would allow those with ranged weaponry to climb up and fire from behind a solid stone wall, while the shape would keep any more than one automaton from breaching the line at once. Estelle, not particularly eager to be caught in the fray, immediately climbed one and perched herself on and end, drawing her bow and nocking it to a string, though how much damage such a weapon would do, she couldn’t be sure.
A Ruin – A Pit – A Fight
Rhys Wilcox, The Tempest
This was the best news he’d had all damn day. Sure, it was beyond annoying that those stone doors had slammed shut behind him, leaving Rhys without the use of Tempest, but he still had a range of other military skills at his disposal, and more importantly, a great willingness to employ each and every one of them.
“Aye-aye, Captain,” he drawled with no small dose of sardonic irony. The easiest orders to obey were the ones that needn’t even be given, and he was hot on his old comrade’s tail, not stopping even when DeVargo paused to shoot. The opportunity presented when the fire staggered one of the statues was too much to resist, and Rhys too the opportunity to treat the automata much like Tempest: he leaped up onto its bent knee and latched his arms about its neck, swinging himself around so that he hung off the construct’s back. As expected, the thing could bear his weight, and stood again, if much more slowly than it would have otherwise, but Rhys was too busy examining its mechanical parts to care.
He found that he could not interface with it as he could with human-made machines, but this fazed him little. Of course, perhaps that would have been obvious from the fact that he’d just jumped onto its back. After a few moments, he found what he was looking for. “Neck and knee joints, kids!” he shouted so that the distance people could hear him, then released his grip, getting a swift kick at the back of the automata’s knee in as he went down. The corresponding leg bent awkwardly, but the creature didn’t quite fall.
No matter; that just meant this was going to be more fun.