[IC]Secrets of the Fire Swamp
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Nodding her head, with a small, catlike smile on her lips, Drowning-Squid leads the way...a twisting path between walls of water, as if a canyon had cut through an ocean. You see crabs play on the skulls of elven buccaneers, their dead bones resting but inches from treasure-chests full of mithril and gold; brightly colored fish flit about long green underwater grasses, and shambling troglodytes with great whiskers eye you warily as you wander past, their hands gripping crude spears topped with stone or shell. The hours and the miles wear on, though it is difficult to reckon time in this place. After many wearisome hours' tread - you feel as if you had been marching for some ten or fifteen hours - you begin to notice that the packed black silt has given way to a kind of mud, and the overall light has increased; there is no longer the sense of oppressive depths, though you still feel, as it were, under sea level. So too have the fish and fauna on either side changed; fairy dragon turtles snap and eels twist, waterbugs play on the surface of the "walls" from time to time, and sunken tree stumps are visible here and there. Yet as you get farther and farther from where you were, you notice that Drowning-Squid looks backwards and to the sides more often, head-tentacles quivering, and tastes the water from the walls more frequently, sometimes spitting it out onto the floor.
Finally, you arrive at what looks like the remnants of a mud-spattered temple sitting at another crossroads; a pillared dome of white marble. Here, Drowning-Squid calls a halt. "The way is long and long yet. We must rest a while." She looks about at the branching paths. "And set watch."
Finally, you arrive at what looks like the remnants of a mud-spattered temple sitting at another crossroads; a pillared dome of white marble. Here, Drowning-Squid calls a halt. "The way is long and long yet. We must rest a while." She looks about at the branching paths. "And set watch."
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There is no true night in that strange place, but a great stillness comes over your little camp as Drowning-Squid builds a small fire of driftwood, the salt-encrusted logs and twigs throwing up strange blue and green sparks. Silence as a mood seems to settle over everything; the pack lizards curl up around each other, Thrull and his various followers - you have lost track of exactly how many - lay themselves together in a sort of circular pattern, and even the dog buries his nose in his tail as soon as supper is finished. On the nearest "wall," an aggregation of manatees floats serene, an occasional snout poking through the wall.
As Archimedes sets himself to sit watch, Drowning-Squid cocks her head, as if listening to something far away. Then she fixes the iron half-minotaur's stare with her own big, dark ayes. "Beware the cows of the sea," she says softly. "The dugong have lured more than one sailor to their doom."
As Archimedes sets himself to sit watch, Drowning-Squid cocks her head, as if listening to something far away. Then she fixes the iron half-minotaur's stare with her own big, dark ayes. "Beware the cows of the sea," she says softly. "The dugong have lured more than one sailor to their doom."
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Drowning-Squid lays a wet hand on Archimedes' muzzle. "Sirens and succubi take the shape of desire. They will call to that part of you, if they come. They may avoid the fire. I should say no more, and must rest."
So saying, she soaks a sheet in the water of a nearby wall and wraps herself in it to sleep. The fire continues to burn down as one by one, the party falls to sleep. As the lonely hours stretch on, Archimedes feels, as much as anything else, that someone or something is watching him. The great key-mace seems to squirm slightly in his grip.
Left alone, Archimedes becomes more aware of the smells of this place...the small currents of air that flow through the winding corridors bring rich histories of what is to come. During one such sniff, all of Archimedes' stiffens as though from an electric shock - it is the faintest scent, though growing stronger, at once familiar and impossible to qualify, primeval and yet something he has not smelled in a long time... it reminds him of home.
So saying, she soaks a sheet in the water of a nearby wall and wraps herself in it to sleep. The fire continues to burn down as one by one, the party falls to sleep. As the lonely hours stretch on, Archimedes feels, as much as anything else, that someone or something is watching him. The great key-mace seems to squirm slightly in his grip.
Left alone, Archimedes becomes more aware of the smells of this place...the small currents of air that flow through the winding corridors bring rich histories of what is to come. During one such sniff, all of Archimedes' stiffens as though from an electric shock - it is the faintest scent, though growing stronger, at once familiar and impossible to qualify, primeval and yet something he has not smelled in a long time... it reminds him of home.
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Home... Archimedes is as wary of the smells as he is nostalgic for them. Never cared for "Master"--my creator, and having peers rather than superiors is welcome, but miss having a body made of flesh and bone. Miss eating and drinking...ironically, Master would have probably considered this iron form to be strictly a boon. He attempts to shake off the thought, unsure if this is the work of the creature. I'd pinch myself if I still had skin.
If it's not already with him, Archimedes will call his familiar over, wanting to have something to keep him company. He'll also attempt to estimate how much time is left in the night.
If it's not already with him, Archimedes will call his familiar over, wanting to have something to keep him company. He'll also attempt to estimate how much time is left in the night.
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The fire, Archimedes notes, has died; his companions sleep on. There is nothing to stare at but the empty paths, and the walls of water...walls that shimmer oddly as different lights play on their surfaces. It seems to him that he can catch reflections in the shimmering surface, mercurial images from somewhere else. One form in particular he catches sight of more than once...that home-smell grows stronger in his nostrils, and he almost feels the eyes on him. Something sneaking up one of the paths, perhaps, though he can hear nothing, discern no direction...yet those reflections in the water walls perhaps could give him a clue, a scattered echo of what stalks him in this wet maze.
So he looks, and grips the key-mace a little tighter. He catches glimpse of wet fur, and low nubby blue horns, and...unmistakably...an udder. Then he does hear something, a kind of wet, heavy breathing, and the smell is almost overpowering as he turns to face the source of it.
A minotauress, stands before him. Ten feet tall if an inch, her blue fur wet, the hair about her head braided into two long plaits woven with sea-shells that modestly cover her breasts, a mithril chain and skirt hanging over - but failing to conceal - the bulging blue-black udder. A feminine musk surrounds her, and yet oddly she still very much a creature of the sea - the tail that swishes languidly behind her is thicker, and ends with a fin rather than a tuft of hair, and great gills are visible between her naked ribs. Dark aquamarine spots splotch against the blue of her fur - yet it is the ice-green eyes above her comely muzzle that capture and hold Archimedes attention, as she carefully inches closer.
So he looks, and grips the key-mace a little tighter. He catches glimpse of wet fur, and low nubby blue horns, and...unmistakably...an udder. Then he does hear something, a kind of wet, heavy breathing, and the smell is almost overpowering as he turns to face the source of it.
A minotauress, stands before him. Ten feet tall if an inch, her blue fur wet, the hair about her head braided into two long plaits woven with sea-shells that modestly cover her breasts, a mithril chain and skirt hanging over - but failing to conceal - the bulging blue-black udder. A feminine musk surrounds her, and yet oddly she still very much a creature of the sea - the tail that swishes languidly behind her is thicker, and ends with a fin rather than a tuft of hair, and great gills are visible between her naked ribs. Dark aquamarine spots splotch against the blue of her fur - yet it is the ice-green eyes above her comely muzzle that capture and hold Archimedes attention, as she carefully inches closer.
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You the Sea Cow? Archimedes asks, sure that she is and thus figuring it little more than a formality at this point. Although he doesn't say it (telepathically or otherwise,) Archimedes is forced to wonder if all of his base biological functions have been halted by his transformation into living iron...
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The minotauress says nothing at first, those deep languid eyes still staring intently into Archimedes' own. Her hooves step daintily between your companions, tail flicking back to and fro. I am a walker of the wet labyrinth, great-granddaughter of Auðumbla. Her dialect is strange, each vowel drawn out into a kind of lowing as she inches closer. She reaches out as though to touch Archimedes, then draws back, suddenly coy.
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A smile flits across her muzzle, and this time when she draws close there is a sway to her hips, emphasized by the way she flicks her tail. She draws close - close enough for Archimedes to be enveloped by her musk, and to feel her hot breath fogging his iron skin. She runs her hands over his hard, muscled form, then leans in to nuzzle at the nape of his neck, her few ornaments clinking against his iron body.
Be that a rod of steel 'neath your clothes? She whispers breathily in his ear.
Be that a rod of steel 'neath your clothes? She whispers breathily in his ear.
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Only one way to find out, Archimedes replies with a wink and a smile.
He'll attempt to reach out telepathically to the others (i.e. the rest of the party and not the minotauress) if any of them happen to be awake: Got business to attend to. Keep an eye out.
He'll attempt to reach out telepathically to the others (i.e. the rest of the party and not the minotauress) if any of them happen to be awake: Got business to attend to. Keep an eye out.
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The sleep of the others is lightly disturbed, as though with an earth tremor. Then another one. Finally, near dawn - or what would be dawn if there was a true sun in this place - there is a rumble of falling masonry, and your party barely has time to roll free as the column'd temple crashes around you.
As the dust settles, near one of the supporting pillars - or the cracked and broken remnant of it - Archimedes and his new friend fiddle with their clothes. Archimedes seems languid, the strength drained from his legs, finding it difficult to stand.
Everyone is now awake.
As the dust settles, near one of the supporting pillars - or the cracked and broken remnant of it - Archimedes and his new friend fiddle with their clothes. Archimedes seems languid, the strength drained from his legs, finding it difficult to stand.
Everyone is now awake.
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Thrull the rat strides forth on his hind legs toward her, and cuts a sign in the air. "Avaunt, demoness! You will not claim him!"
You are strong, the minotauress caresses Archimedes' cheek. You will recover, in time. She lays one hand on her belly. We will meet again. With that, she turns and sprints toward the nearest wall, diving into it like an eel sliding back into its hole. For a few moments the swish of her tail is visible, and then even that is gone.
"Well, that went better than expected." Thrull said. He waggles a claw at Archimedes. "You should know better than to lay with succubi!"
You are strong, the minotauress caresses Archimedes' cheek. You will recover, in time. She lays one hand on her belly. We will meet again. With that, she turns and sprints toward the nearest wall, diving into it like an eel sliding back into its hole. For a few moments the swish of her tail is visible, and then even that is gone.
"Well, that went better than expected." Thrull said. He waggles a claw at Archimedes. "You should know better than to lay with succubi!"
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The rat strokes a whisker. There are many truths, young bullock. It may be she was not entirely dishonest with you. However, belike her embrace has left you weakened, at least for a time. We should move on so we are somewhere less...vulnerable...as your spirit recovers.
Drowning-Squid-At-Morning has been tasting the waters, and blinks her vertical eyelids. Yes-yes. We should move soon. Bad things swim in these waters.
Drowning-Squid-At-Morning has been tasting the waters, and blinks her vertical eyelids. Yes-yes. We should move soon. Bad things swim in these waters.
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You follow Drowning-Squid's lead, through the strange paths. They seem to be getting brighter now, and occasionally a fine mist falls down on you from somewhere far above, but the paths also get narrower. After an hour on the current path, Drowning-Squid suddenly halts.
*There is something blocking the way. I will scout ahead. Stay here.*
So saying, she draws the cloak tighter around herself - and seems to disappear, though you can, by knowing where to look, see the outline of her garment. Without a word, she lopes ahead, disappearing around a bend.
Through one "wall" - barely a foot away from the barrier - you see a black pearl the size of an elf's fist, sitting inside a large clam, part of a rocky shelf of such clams filled with small darting fish and swaying underwater fronds.
*There is something blocking the way. I will scout ahead. Stay here.*
So saying, she draws the cloak tighter around herself - and seems to disappear, though you can, by knowing where to look, see the outline of her garment. Without a word, she lopes ahead, disappearing around a bend.
Through one "wall" - barely a foot away from the barrier - you see a black pearl the size of an elf's fist, sitting inside a large clam, part of a rocky shelf of such clams filled with small darting fish and swaying underwater fronds.
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"Hmm... let me try... actually on second thought..." Orr looks at the pearl for a moment, but then hesitates and looks around, wondering if this is a good idea here.
He uses control water on any part of the barrier wall as far behind them as he can see (while still within 520 ft) to 'lower' the water level of any 'wall' (or well, push it back), just to see what would happen.
(Not sure how this place interacts with the "In extremely large and deep bodies of water, such as a deep ocean, the spell creates a whirlpool that sweeps ships and similar craft downward, putting them at risk and rendering them unable to leave by normal movement for the duration of the spell." part of the spell, but hey, might as well experiment. If this doesn't result in total disaster, Orr will try again on the ceiling, again as far away from the party as possible)
He uses control water on any part of the barrier wall as far behind them as he can see (while still within 520 ft) to 'lower' the water level of any 'wall' (or well, push it back), just to see what would happen.
(Not sure how this place interacts with the "In extremely large and deep bodies of water, such as a deep ocean, the spell creates a whirlpool that sweeps ships and similar craft downward, putting them at risk and rendering them unable to leave by normal movement for the duration of the spell." part of the spell, but hey, might as well experiment. If this doesn't result in total disaster, Orr will try again on the ceiling, again as far away from the party as possible)
Last edited by radthemad4 on Wed Feb 08, 2017 7:07 pm, edited 2 times in total.