Archon Basileus
First Post
EVERYONE
Arvana lowers her arms, assuming a more relaxed posture. She moves around slowly, repositioning herself accordingly to the shaman’s movements, but keeps her eyes on Reynard.
She remains silent as the sailor tells the group’s story. “Fateful. You have a few paths from here on, but none too smooth, as far as I know. Unless, of course, you consider going back up.” – she replies, using the soft, unconcerned tone of an experienced traveler. She points to the dagger, a mocking laugh suffocated in her throat. “Yes, that’s it. There’s the cause of your troubles. Certainly, everyone is after this thing. You are an unlucky lot, you know that?”
“The maiden issss right, gunman… Thissss issss the cause for your troublessss. If you handle it to ussss, we might be able to….” – the shaman never gets to finish the phrase.
“Of course you might. Now shut up!” – the velvet voice once more silences the creature, never raising its tone. “If I am right, this piece was kept in an altar, sunk underneath Maran’s bay, for a long time. It was considered useless. Up until now. For some reason, your dwarven friends decided to take it.” – she looks at Morgrym for a moment. “You wouldn’t know about it, would you? You look more like a mountaineer.” – she moves her eyes between the sailor and the dwarf.
“Be as it may, I can’t complain. Your friends drove their attention from me for a while. Ichtians may not have forged it, but they kept it last. Enough for them to want it back.”
“Ssseeeee?” – the shaman attempts again, but falls silent with one glance of the maiden.
“Still” – she starts over, a mocking tone in her voice – “better it stays far from them. Nothing good can come from these beasts.”
Arvana does not seem bothered by the question.
“True enough. I needed information. Things that only the Lady knows.” – she rolls her eyes towards the shaman and his guards.“She has a way with past events. Knows them all. The details I can share later if you want… in private.” – there is a strong, dubious note to the very last words as she looks directly at Reynard.
REYNARD
Both names sound familiar to the sailor, appearing throughout coastal chapels, taverns and decks around the south seas. The Lady is described in old tales and legends. For some, she is a saint, a restless spirit that blesses sailors and helps them return home when they get lost in the open sea. For others, she is the mother of all mermaids, seducing careless men and taking them to the deep, where their souls are enslaved for eternity. So far, Reynard believed it only to be a myth, a story told in windless nights.
The word “seamaiden” has a more subtle presence. In fact, he heard nothing legendary about it, except that there was, not long ago, a skilled female swimmer, pulling moves around Heartless Coven with a group of pirates, going by such name. She was said to never show her face… So far, it might as well be Arvana.
As for Arvana’s intentions, they seem unnaturally obscured by her garment. Nonetheless, her body language is enough to denounce her concerns. She feigns indifference, but in fact remains very attentive to her surroundings, not entirely sure of the trio’s intentions. Nonetheless, something in her manners betrays satisfaction, almost as if she saw in the adventurers a fortunate finding. She seems driven to ensure an alliance, without letting need of it transpire. It makes sense, though: if she holds info she does not wish disclosed to the ichtians, her position is not the most comfortable. That suggests some truth about her perception of ways to leave the ruins they now occupy. The bow, the lightness of the armor, the cloak and the covered face, the quick gestures and easy intimidation, everything points out to her being schooled in …. Alternative… ways of survival. Odds are she can’t leave this place on her own, lacking the martial prowess needed.
It seems like a good moment to rip out information from her.
MORGRYM
Arvana is clearly a thief. She knows her way around the coast, and certainly has engaged in piracy from time to time. It’s only natural. She’s also cornered. Provided there are as many ichtians as she makes believe, she has no choice but to find allies to lead her out of the cave. It might be that she has interest in the coveted dagger, as well. She knew about it. No doubt heard of it down below, between the ichtians, maybe from the so-called Lady herself. She might have found her pot of gold in the adventurers, and it would be no surprise if she tried to guide them out only to attempt theft against them, later on. For now, she is reliable. On the long run, she is a real liability. Morgrym also notices her manners towards Reynard. She can read them, alright. She might even have used the word “seamaiden” on account of Reynard’s outfit and manners, undoubtedly those of a seaman. All things considered, she might try to use the sailor, if she found that he had a soft spot for her. Nonetheless, she contents herself in being dubious and vague, for now. Morgrym specially notices she has not given much attention to the dagger, even though she left clear she knew they carried something the ichtians wanted. Time might tell more about her. For now, she speaks the truth, despite being stingy with details.
MARIUS
Slowly, the monk vanishes from everyone’s attention. As he wanders around, he tries to uncover the nature of the statues that fill the room. He realizes they are faithful portraits of human beings. All of them have been sculpted with a richness of movement and detail. This is especially pronounced in their faces. Each statue holds a unique posture, a unique set of gestures and a unique expression, representing in very clear ways a single sentiment in its full intensity.
As for how they’ve been made, the statues were clearly sculpted from clear marble. The decoration of the stone tunics, as well as the eyes, are made with encrusted precious stones pf great variety. Oddly enough, no tomb robber had a mind to pull the stones out. It makes sense, though. There’s something deeply disturbing about the statues. One in particular, a wrathful man, has two blood-red rubies for eyes. The face is so grotesquely real that no one in their senses would dare desecrate the thing.
The monk considers this strange feeling for a moment, and soon he realizes the true cause of it. Even though the marble should have suffered, breaking and turning to plaster under the acidic wetness of the halls, the statues seem as new as if they’d been made a day ago. Also, they do not seem to be dedicated to gods, even though they have seen some kind of worship at some point of their existences. Remnants of fire and perfume, among other things, can be found here and there.
Most of the pieces seem to be solid, holding no loose contraptions of any kind. What calls for attention, though, are the two massive statues that flank the bridge. They come from columns that go deep into the void below, never touching wall or pavement. There, the monk is sure, some secret lies. The columns are rich in inscriptions and patterns crafted in loose plaques. As he reaches for it, he feels one of them might be pushed inside the column, provided some effort was made.
[Oook, there it is! Sorry for the delay, but... the size, you know! If something came out confusing, please, warn me!]
MAP LINK
https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets...gid=2051010950
@Trogdor1992 @Neurotic @KahlessNestor @Jago
Arvana lowers her arms, assuming a more relaxed posture. She moves around slowly, repositioning herself accordingly to the shaman’s movements, but keeps her eyes on Reynard.
She remains silent as the sailor tells the group’s story. “Fateful. You have a few paths from here on, but none too smooth, as far as I know. Unless, of course, you consider going back up.” – she replies, using the soft, unconcerned tone of an experienced traveler. She points to the dagger, a mocking laugh suffocated in her throat. “Yes, that’s it. There’s the cause of your troubles. Certainly, everyone is after this thing. You are an unlucky lot, you know that?”
“The maiden issss right, gunman… Thissss issss the cause for your troublessss. If you handle it to ussss, we might be able to….” – the shaman never gets to finish the phrase.
“Of course you might. Now shut up!” – the velvet voice once more silences the creature, never raising its tone. “If I am right, this piece was kept in an altar, sunk underneath Maran’s bay, for a long time. It was considered useless. Up until now. For some reason, your dwarven friends decided to take it.” – she looks at Morgrym for a moment. “You wouldn’t know about it, would you? You look more like a mountaineer.” – she moves her eyes between the sailor and the dwarf.
“Be as it may, I can’t complain. Your friends drove their attention from me for a while. Ichtians may not have forged it, but they kept it last. Enough for them to want it back.”
“Ssseeeee?” – the shaman attempts again, but falls silent with one glance of the maiden.
“Still” – she starts over, a mocking tone in her voice – “better it stays far from them. Nothing good can come from these beasts.”
Arvana does not seem bothered by the question.
“True enough. I needed information. Things that only the Lady knows.” – she rolls her eyes towards the shaman and his guards.“She has a way with past events. Knows them all. The details I can share later if you want… in private.” – there is a strong, dubious note to the very last words as she looks directly at Reynard.
REYNARD
Both names sound familiar to the sailor, appearing throughout coastal chapels, taverns and decks around the south seas. The Lady is described in old tales and legends. For some, she is a saint, a restless spirit that blesses sailors and helps them return home when they get lost in the open sea. For others, she is the mother of all mermaids, seducing careless men and taking them to the deep, where their souls are enslaved for eternity. So far, Reynard believed it only to be a myth, a story told in windless nights.
The word “seamaiden” has a more subtle presence. In fact, he heard nothing legendary about it, except that there was, not long ago, a skilled female swimmer, pulling moves around Heartless Coven with a group of pirates, going by such name. She was said to never show her face… So far, it might as well be Arvana.
As for Arvana’s intentions, they seem unnaturally obscured by her garment. Nonetheless, her body language is enough to denounce her concerns. She feigns indifference, but in fact remains very attentive to her surroundings, not entirely sure of the trio’s intentions. Nonetheless, something in her manners betrays satisfaction, almost as if she saw in the adventurers a fortunate finding. She seems driven to ensure an alliance, without letting need of it transpire. It makes sense, though: if she holds info she does not wish disclosed to the ichtians, her position is not the most comfortable. That suggests some truth about her perception of ways to leave the ruins they now occupy. The bow, the lightness of the armor, the cloak and the covered face, the quick gestures and easy intimidation, everything points out to her being schooled in …. Alternative… ways of survival. Odds are she can’t leave this place on her own, lacking the martial prowess needed.
It seems like a good moment to rip out information from her.
MORGRYM
Arvana is clearly a thief. She knows her way around the coast, and certainly has engaged in piracy from time to time. It’s only natural. She’s also cornered. Provided there are as many ichtians as she makes believe, she has no choice but to find allies to lead her out of the cave. It might be that she has interest in the coveted dagger, as well. She knew about it. No doubt heard of it down below, between the ichtians, maybe from the so-called Lady herself. She might have found her pot of gold in the adventurers, and it would be no surprise if she tried to guide them out only to attempt theft against them, later on. For now, she is reliable. On the long run, she is a real liability. Morgrym also notices her manners towards Reynard. She can read them, alright. She might even have used the word “seamaiden” on account of Reynard’s outfit and manners, undoubtedly those of a seaman. All things considered, she might try to use the sailor, if she found that he had a soft spot for her. Nonetheless, she contents herself in being dubious and vague, for now. Morgrym specially notices she has not given much attention to the dagger, even though she left clear she knew they carried something the ichtians wanted. Time might tell more about her. For now, she speaks the truth, despite being stingy with details.
MARIUS
Slowly, the monk vanishes from everyone’s attention. As he wanders around, he tries to uncover the nature of the statues that fill the room. He realizes they are faithful portraits of human beings. All of them have been sculpted with a richness of movement and detail. This is especially pronounced in their faces. Each statue holds a unique posture, a unique set of gestures and a unique expression, representing in very clear ways a single sentiment in its full intensity.
As for how they’ve been made, the statues were clearly sculpted from clear marble. The decoration of the stone tunics, as well as the eyes, are made with encrusted precious stones pf great variety. Oddly enough, no tomb robber had a mind to pull the stones out. It makes sense, though. There’s something deeply disturbing about the statues. One in particular, a wrathful man, has two blood-red rubies for eyes. The face is so grotesquely real that no one in their senses would dare desecrate the thing.
The monk considers this strange feeling for a moment, and soon he realizes the true cause of it. Even though the marble should have suffered, breaking and turning to plaster under the acidic wetness of the halls, the statues seem as new as if they’d been made a day ago. Also, they do not seem to be dedicated to gods, even though they have seen some kind of worship at some point of their existences. Remnants of fire and perfume, among other things, can be found here and there.
Most of the pieces seem to be solid, holding no loose contraptions of any kind. What calls for attention, though, are the two massive statues that flank the bridge. They come from columns that go deep into the void below, never touching wall or pavement. There, the monk is sure, some secret lies. The columns are rich in inscriptions and patterns crafted in loose plaques. As he reaches for it, he feels one of them might be pushed inside the column, provided some effort was made.
[Oook, there it is! Sorry for the delay, but... the size, you know! If something came out confusing, please, warn me!]
MAP LINK
https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets...gid=2051010950
@Trogdor1992 @Neurotic @KahlessNestor @Jago
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