moustre: (Default)
moustre ([personal profile] moustre) wrote in [community profile] middaeg2019-06-10 02:10 pm

quest log | following rumors

Who: Those signed up for the the High-Risk Quest "Following Rumors".
When: 06/10 to 06/13
Where: A cave deep within the Wilde.
What: From the quest information itself: "A few of our divination experts have spoken of a cave untouched by the corruption in their scrying, which is right exciting! We'll be sending in our Witches as well, but I'd like to offer this opportunity to those who've come in through The Looking-Glass House, too. It should be safe enough for just about anyone to visit, so find a friend or two and come on! Stuff like this is a rare find, dearests - it might give us a good hint about how to combat our corruption problem, too."
Warnings: In various prompts: spiders and other insects, corpses, risk of injury or death, magical corruption, physical sickness, hallucinogenics, and other imagery that may be disturbing. Each prompt header will be labeled with the appropriate warnings, so make sure you choose what you're comfortable dealing with, either ICly or OOCly! Additionally, sign ups aren't closed - if, after reading through the log, you'd like to sign up, you can still do so and play on here at your leisure.



The Way There

    Most journeys into the Wilde don't actually go too far; those that do travel outside of the city end up somewhere in the land between, with its smaller patches of growth that feel as if they should be part of a forest, or at the very edge of the massive forest that seems to be ever expanding. Even now, new sprouts push through the dirt, some even as tall as a man despite being obviously new - they're still green and flexible, without any noticeable bark. The quests the Wilders take - and have put out at the Coven, as far as last month went - go a little deeper, to where the trees become far more autumnal, colored in golds and browns and oranges.

    The cave spoken of is deeper still.

    As the group marches in pairs, the trees turn from vibrant summer green and lushly decorated in flowers and fruits to the tell-tale colors of fall and winter, their bark gradually becoming more and more marred by an inky blackness that's sticky to the touch - sap, bleeding from the cracks between the bark. What animal life had been at the edge of the forest fades into a hollow quiet, the air becoming more oppressive - not unlike a certain shared dream experienced not too long ago. The silence is unnerving even to those with iron-clad hearts, giving off the feeling that something is about to happen -

    and then suddenly, the feeling disappears, even as the quiet remains.

    The area around the cave is lush with foliage; the trees look healthier than their counterparts outside of it, their bark free of any leakage and their branches hardly out of control. Closer inspection shows this is due to scraping and trimming, and after some discussion, the Wilders and Witches set up camp outside of the cave and gather together the group. Everyone is given the same basic necessities and instructions on how to use them, in a bag containing:
      • A grappling hook enchanted to return to them with a tug
      • Around twenty-feet of rope
      • Three spell scrolls (a light spell, which will conjure a small ball of light that shows about a radius of twenty feet around the caster and lasts as long as the scroll remains in one piece; a minor healing spell with three charges; and a single-use flare spell that can be used as a distraction or to call for help, should the need arise)
      • A tinder kit
      • One day of rations
      • A ring that glows when danger is nearby; it's enchanted to fit on anyone's finger, regardless of size

    For characters unsuited footwear-wise to spelunking, they'll also receive a pair of sturdy boots.

    The mission is simple: explore the cave and report back with their findings. It isn't just those who signed up going in; other Witches are suiting up to head in as well, talking in low voices about the probability of something like this even existing, especially with how deep they are in the Wilde. It isn't as if they're anywhere close to the center, but it's still in Wilder territory - they're far enough out that a few of them are nervous about encountering one of the bigger variety of Shades. Despite the reassurances that this cave is clean, and the fresh feeling it gives off, the murmurs continue until the mission officially begins.


Smugha Cave

    The cave itself feels refreshing compared to the oppressive air felt on the way here, not unlike an oasis in a desert. Cool in temperature and a little damp, it's mostly dark aside from the sunlight coming in the front and the bio-luminescent cave flora that climb the walls - though those are still too dim to really see by. Heading further in reveals sharp cliffs with stair-like structures carved into them, inviting an easy way down into the depths, and landing at the bottom of these is a wide, dark room, even colder than the last.

    It's time to start exploring.

    I. The Water (cw: magical corruption, physical sickness)

      For a cave located in the middle of the continent and in the depths of the ever-reaching forest, there certainly is a lot of water. Damp to the point that it might be considered humid if the cave was any warmer, puddles form beneath long stalactites, and shallow pools of water pour into each other from landing to landing; they populate the floor too, making walking a little treacherous. A few of them glow and glimmer with a faint, pale blue light from the magic runes found around them - these ones, at least, can be read. They're not so different from the script used in Aefenglom itself, though the way they've been carved into the stone makes them a little sharper in shape - for those in study at the Coven, or in spells in general, it's evidently a cooling spell. That isn't so hard to figure out though, as the pools of water surrounded by them have a pleasingly cold temperature, while those without them are near scalding. A few of the latter have runes around them, but they're not glowing like the rest - feeding a little magic into them changes this immediately, and steam rises in a sudden blast as the water cools rapidly. The opposite can be done for the colder pools too - taking their magic somehow or ruining the runes will make them bubble and boil as they surge in temperature. It'd be best to mind oneself around these, as unlike in a dream, any injury sustained in the waking world is a little more permanent and painful.

      Three pools in particular have to them a translucent green shimmer, made a little more blue-green by the cooling spell carved and activated around them; they're deep enough to wade into, or even just sit by and rest one's feet in - both of which feel like very attractive ideas to anyone who looks at them a moment too long. The water is pleasantly cool, and those who take a quick rest in them will feel more refreshed than they have in years. Their worries will fade, the anxieties they've held in the back of their mind seeming to slide off into the water, but in place of it something new occurs: within fifteen minutes of resting in the pool, they'll begin to feel sick, and grey spots begin to appear on any wet skin. Longer than that, and those residing in the water will find their spots turning black instead, and a lot harder, too. This affects Witches quicker than it does Monsters, curiously enough - for Monsters, it takes almost double the time. Getting out and getting dry will temper the effects back down, though the feeling of being not quite refreshed lingers.

      That isn't all the water the cave has to offer - the large cavern has a sudden, massive drop in the form of a sinkhole on about halfway across the room; it leads to a similarly massive underground lake. Traveling around the rim of the sinkhole shows there's multiple waterfalls pouring into it soundlessly, pooled together from the pools of water running into one another. Thankfully, there's another way down other than just diving headfirst into the darkness - twin tunnels on each side of of the sinkhole, not quite natural in nature, lead down to the lake in a gently winding slope.

      Starting shallow before getting much deeper in the middle, the lake also has an inviting feeling to it, stronger in its suggestion to simply take a load off, to let anxieties and worries simply soak and sink away in its pleasantly tempered waters - but it also has a stronger reaction in those who enter its depths. Within five minutes, those within it begin to feel sick, the grey spots showing up on their wet skin, and the rate of their blackening and hardening is quicker as well. This, once more, affects Witches quicker - and, just like before, getting dry will make alleviate the sickness and the spotting both, with the discomfort lingering long after.

      In both the upper and lower caverns, there are tunnels leading to other parts of the cave - they might just be worth checking out...
    II. The Upper Tunnels (cw: risk of injury, spiders and other insects, hallucinogenics)

      The tunnels leading from the upper cavern stay relatively horizontal, with small hills and valleys among their turns and a lower ceiling that might have people higher than five-and-a-half-feet ducking a little; they're more like a labyrinth than anything else, with empty metal sconces beginning to appear further within them. Sharp, thick nails have been hammered into the stone as well, with leather pouches rotted and torn hanging from them - whatever were in these hasn't remained, either due to wildlife or decay. Small rooms and caverns shooting off from the tunnels hold much of the same, albeit with a few other items: jackets and other clothing, Coven robes, specially-tailored Monster wear, instruments with snapped strings or clogged holes, candles burnt to the wick. One room in particular holds a few bookshelves, though the wood is also in poor condition due to the dampness of the cave, and the books suffer for this as well. What ones can be made out seem to be standard fare: the type of books one might expect to find in the fiction section, ranging from romance to horror to fantasy, and a few Coven textbooks on spellwork, specifically basic transfiguration. Not all of this is so old, however - some of it seems newer the closer explorers get to the "end" of the tunnels, either landing them in a room or at an ordinary dead-end.

      Unfortunately, the tunnels aren't as safe as they seem: giant spiders make their homes among the caverns and tunnels, made obvious by the webbing that appears before their funnel-like traps. They range from the size of large dogs to horses, but all of them have the same venomous bite that causes hallucinations, deliriousness, and fatigue. Among giant mushrooms whose spores paralyze those who breathe them in live similarly large millipedes, incredibly long and vicious; they attack in pairs, but thankfully just have very, very painful bites. Last but not least are bats - regular sized, plentiful as they might be in any cave, and just as annoying, too.
    III. The Lower Tunnels (cw: risk of injury or death, imagery that may be disturbing, corpses, physical sickness)

      Meanwhile, the tunnels leading from the lower cavern have higher ceilings and are mostly flooded (about waist-high) due to the nearby lake; water permeates through the rock in rivulets, darker than the lake above, and give a similar effect to the water in the lake itself. Thankfully, they're also mostly iced over - walking on them takes practice and a careful eye, considering the ice is thin in places. The air becomes more frigid as the tunnel dips down, with smaller caverns sharing the same fate: covered in ice and icicles, their entrances sometimes a little too squished to get through without breaking the ice or being particularly small in stature. Those traveling might notice a trend if they look a little too closely at the clearer parts of the ice as well: scratch marks gouging into it, as if something'd been trying desperately to get out. The longest tunnel opens up into a frozen room, as tall as the lower cavern itself, sconces lit with pale blue fire - magic, and obviously so. The walls glitter beautifully with the light, but looking down into the depths below, past the sheet of ice that allows travel, reveals something horrifying: dozens of thin husks and corpses of animals and adventurers both, held in place by the ice as it stretches down like spikes into the water. Witches, Monsters, Shades, other creatures - not a single one spared, with a mix of infected and non-infected among them.

      These tunnels aren't exactly safe either: ice-breathing salamanders the size of elephants can be found resting in some of the caverns - though they might be hard to see, given their pale white and blue scales. While not infected (curious), they're incredibly aggressive and attack those who wake them or get too close. Their bites can inflict frostbite the same as their breath can, so caution is advised in dealing with these. When killed they remain intact, their blood creating an extra layer of ice on whatever it touches due to its chilly temperature, not unlike liquid nitrogen.

      Unfortunately, they're not the only things those adventuring in the depths have to worry about. To be precise, Shades of Monsters and Witches also roam some of the tunnels shooting off from the larger, main one; the latter pulses brightly with white veins of magic on their blackened skin. Both types of Shades are sluggish, likely due to the cold and the lack-of pure magic, but are experts on dealing with walking on ice. The Witches in particular are ticking time-bombs, every spell they cast - primarily of snaring-type spells, desiring the magic and flesh of whom they capture - risking an explosion, but when they do supernova... It's fairly localized to somewhere between five to seven feet of the Shade in question. Those within that radius, however, will feel physically sick and find their skin or fur-scale-feathers-so-on turning into sharp, black shards of ice and infection due to the corrupted magic exploding from the Shade.

      Either way, once killed the Shades fall apart and turn into thin, brittle corpses of what they used to be; they're old enough that when touched, they simply crumble as if made of ash.
    IV. Outside The Cave (cw: nothing)

      For those seeking a little relaxation or recovery can make their way back outside - or be helped that way, given their flares. There, Witches can take care of them, food can be shared, and in general, people can take a breather. As the first day closes, and the cave proves itself to be bigger than expected, Witches will also offer to teleport people back to the city should they wish to go - staying would be nice, but they aren't going to force anyone to stay who doesn't want to. They'll also be collecting information from those who've ventured inside, encouraging each person to share with each other their findings as well.

      (Note: Essentially, this is more of an open/breather prompt, considering the heavier nature of some of the prompts above; any injuries or infection sustained can be healed here, extra supplies can be gotten, as well as anything that might need specialized storage - such as bottles, cages for small animals, and so on. Characters can be teleported back to Aefenglom in small batches occurring every hour should they choose, but they cannot be teleported back; it's a one-way trip. Otherwise, at the end of the three day stay, the same trek will be made back to the city, and the quest will be considered "completed"... Until further notice. Any questions can be asked here.)
tryhard: (being a stubborn piece of shit)

→ for diarmuid.

[personal profile] tryhard 2019-06-11 09:16 pm (UTC)(link)
[ When he and Diarmuid had first discussed making this trip to investigate the magically significant discovery, Waver hadn't realized how far out into the Wilde the caves in question were. Not even halfway there, he'd begun to rather regret his choice. Being out here made the fine hairs on the backs of his arms and neck stand on end, the tension in his shoulders solidifying nearly into an ache of stress, every sense on high-alert. Diarmuid insisted they couldn't turn back and break their agreement to the organizers of this journey, and in fairness it wasn't as though they'd be any better off trying to make their way back to the city on their own either, so Waver grudgingly resigns himself to putting up with it. He's quiet for most of the journey there, intently focused on their surroundings; he eyes the dark corruption seeping from the trees with wary interest, walking close to Diarmuid and making sure to keep them squarely in the middle of the party as much as possible so there's no chance of getting lost or separated.

By the time they made it to the caves, the heavy, eerie silence was wreaking havoc on his nerves and heart rate, palms sweaty and clenched so tight his short nails left half-moon marks in his own skin. He was practically glued to Diarmuid's side.

Even with the oppressive heaviness of the forest behind them once they finally got their supplies and instructions on exploring further into the caves -- where the air thankfully didn't feel nearly as skin-crawlingly laden with foreign, messed-up magic -- Waver takes a while to relax. They shoulder their supplies, and he follows Diarmuid's lead further into the cool damp for a while, eyes shining oddly reflectively in the low light. Despite their alluring pull (or, likely, because of it) Waver doesn't trust the pools of water and insists very firmly that they give them a wide berth, though if Diarmuid really wants to check out the runes, he'll wait nearby nervously, gripping his pack tightly and keeping a close eye on his companion the whole time.

When they reach a part of the cavern that looks like jagged steps leading up or down, Waver grabs Diarmuid's arm before he can start on either side. ]


Up. [ he insists, a little too sharply. ] I don't want to go further underground.
Edited 2019-06-11 21:19 (UTC)
ua_duibhne: (o17)

[personal profile] ua_duibhne 2019-06-13 11:16 am (UTC)(link)
[The decision to press Waver onward is starting to feel like a poor one. Though it had seemed a betrayal of Diarmuid's dignity as a knight to go back on their promise to the rest of the team, the effect that it's having on his companion is concerning. To his credit, the young Master has soldiered on regardless and that's part of why he's is so reluctant to ask if he wants to turn back now; it would be disrespectful to the resolve he's shown in getting this far.

Instead, Diarmuid makes himself Waver's shadow, never straying too far from his side and putting a hand to his shoulder whenever the darkness grows deeper than even the light from the spell they were given can penetrate. Even as they reach the pools- a man with broad shoulders and crimson tattoos and an endlessly cold stare cuts right to his core in seconds- he resists the considerable urge to examine them in more detail. If they truly are the same as the ones from his dreams, he doubts he'll be able to read the runes this time either.

It's no surprise, then, when Waver catches hold of his arm at the split in the paths. Diarmuid glances down at him. In the warm yellow light of their magical torch, his face is as peaky and anxious as ever.]


Up? [His choice would have been to venture further downwards but-] As you wish.

[The Lancer pauses. Alongside the supplies they were given, there's a full flask at his hip and a small amount of food he'd brought for the journey that has yet to be eaten.]

We can take a break, if you need it.
tryhard: (pretending to be a shonen hero)

[personal profile] tryhard 2019-06-13 05:56 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Diarmuid really needs to start watching how he phrases things. Waver's already quarrelsome disposition hasn't benefited at all from being so tense and stressed-out, and the moment Diarmuid says if you need, he's shaking his head stubbornly. ]

I don't need a break.

Come on.

[ Without waiting for a reply, Waver tugs him up the sloping path. His grip on Diarmuid's wrist is a lot stronger and tighter than one might have expected, and it only tenses more as the walls begin to descend around them into a narrow tunnel that seems to swallow up the meager spell-light before it can reach more than perhaps a meter before them.

It reminds Waver uncomfortably of another tunnel, another awful underground trap. Rider warning him not to look. The smell--

Despite his best efforts to shove down the bad memories, it all just keeps coming back in flashes the further they climb into the darkness, the lower the ceiling gets. Waver has never been claustrophobic before, but suddenly, he understands the feeling. When their torch illuminates something on the wall the first time, he gasps and starts, and nearly walks backward right into Diarmuid. After that -- even though it was just some old metal sconces and what seemed to be the remains of rotting leather or clothing -- he lets Diarmuid lead the way. Whether or not he truly can scent the faint stench of old blood around these tunnels or if it's just a trick of his overactive imagination right now relating this place too strongly to what he'd found at Caster's lair, it's enough to make Waver feel sick and clammy, unable to take a fully deep breath. His heart is pounding in his head. His bones hurt.

When the tunnel finally opens up into a bigger space that appears to be a room diverging from the main, labyrinthine path, Waver drifts immediately toward it. Maybe he is ready for a break, after all. ]


Just... a moment. In here.

[ The torchlight seems a little brighter in the more open space. It glints off various discarded items, bathes the dusty bookshelves in a faint glow.

Waver's barely looking at the contents of the room, though. He bends over as one who's just run a long marathon, breathing heavily and bracing his hands on his knees. Sometime in the last hour or so, his blunt nails gave grown long and pointed. ]
ua_duibhne: (Default)

wtf happened to this tag

[personal profile] ua_duibhne 2019-06-19 09:54 pm (UTC)(link)
[Now that he's stepped into it, it was rather an obvious pitfall but hindsight isn't going to make his partner any easier to handle. Only someone with a distinct lack of decorum and surplus of assertiveness like Rider could navigate it with any success- probably because he seemed the sort to plow through until he got to the heart of the matter. Needless to say, Diarmuid is not Rider and he's probably going to continue tripping himself up.

But not right now. Wisely, he holds his tongue and allows Waver to pull him along for a minute or so before taking up his place ahead of him once again. Though they're apparently going up, the tunnel shows little sign of growing any brighter or less stuffy and the incline of the path is slight enough that it's almost disorientating. Almost- but not enough to distract Diarmuid from something even stranger. Waver has kept hold of him throughout but, at some point, he became more aware of the tips of his nails digging into his skin. Are they sharper or is he just gripping him more tightly?

As they head into the offshoot room, the answer becomes clear. Even through the film of dust speckling their torchlight, Waver's face is pale and drawn, those slim shoulders shaking with every breath. And his nails-]


Waver? [Diarmuid's at his side in moments, putting a hand on his shoulder. This can't just be fear, can it?] Sit down. Your flask is in the pack.

[This time, though his brow is creased with concern, he speaks firmly.]
tryhard: (what do you mean santa's not real)

no worries!

[personal profile] tryhard 2019-06-19 10:21 pm (UTC)(link)
[ This time, Waver doesn't argue or even try to claim he's fine. He only nods faintly, lifting his head enough to look around for something to sit on. There's nothing much, and though there are some shelves, there are no seats other than the floor. After a few moments' deliberation, Waver just settles where he is, elbows on his raised knees and hands covering his face for a minute while he tries to catch his breath.

When he looks back up, the torchlight glints off his eyes, his normally-green irises now nearly black as his pupils. His canines match his claws: pointed and sharp, and certainly no longer human.

He reaches with a shaky hand for the pack and the flask inside, struggling to open it. Staring at his hands. ]


...oh. Fuck.
ua_duibhne: (o29)

[personal profile] ua_duibhne 2019-06-20 11:43 am (UTC)(link)
[How could it have happened so quickly? When they entered the tunnels, Waver was a little pale, yes, but visibly still human and now Diarmuid's staring at the beginnings of a transformation. Though he already knows that he's been spared such a fate, he finds himself glancing at his own hands, running his tongue over his teeth, just in case. As expected, nothing. Whatever it was to prompt such rapid deterioration, it only effects monsters.

But neither gawping nor panicking is going to help either of them. The Lancer swallows down his horror and drops down onto one knee beside him, moving with swift, matter of fact composure. First, he opens the flask for him. Next, with an excuse me he takes Waver's chin in one hand and tries to get a better look at his eyes as he drinks. Dilated or changing colour? It's hard to say.]


Does it hurt?

[Complicating matters further, there are no identifiable markers- to Diarmuid's untrained eye, at least- that might give a hint as to what kind of beast he's turning into.]
tryhard: (what kinda monster doesn't tag spoilers?)

[personal profile] tryhard 2019-06-20 06:01 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Waver flinches at the touch but doesn't struggle, gripping the flask with both hands in his lap to keep them from shaking. For all his eyes have darkened, the black stretching further into the whites of his eyes than it should have, they still catch the faint light too brightly, glinting with it almost mirror-like. The teeth are more obvious when he looks up too, pointed canines on the tops and bottoms, though not long enough to interfere with his speech.

Despite that, he doesn't really look frightening though. Just frightened.

Waver shakes his head slowly, pulling away from Lancer's grip with the movement. ]


A... a bit...

[ An ache, stressful and persistent. Mostly he's just scared.

Waver has no idea what he might be turning into either. ]


I just need a moment to--

[ He freezes, eyes going wide. Lancer might get the distinct impression that his ears are pricked, though they still look mostly-human despite the slightly elfin points. His chin lifts, and he silently scents the air. ]