The Wayfinders - The Wreck of the Archon
Deuce Traveler
Adventurer
"What would you call it, Kraken? A hootinanny?" Doral asks in an attempt to egg Kraken on and pester Whisper some more. He takes the lead, keeping his eye out for trouble.
Deuce Traveler
Adventurer
SelcSilverhand
First Post
You follow the twisting passageway a short distance until you reach a bulkhead door. The outside is stained around the edges where it opens into a room just beyond. It looks to be a small office space / tool storage. The first thing that draws your eye is the bloodstains on the floor. The sight fills you with a sense of foreboding. You enter the room carefully, on the lookout for signs of more mutated rat creatures. After taking the time to check all the nooks and crannies you settle down a bit. The room has a small cot, a workbench, a rack of tools, and a locker with blue work clothes, belts, and other accessories. Doral is drawn to a table attached to one wall covered in notes and diagrams. After a few minutes of review he produces a potentially useful diagram. It shows a series of pipe and cable runs throughout this level of the Archon. This utility section services approximately one quarter of the ship. It meanders over a large area and is filled with numerous corridors. Doral believes he can navigate the passages to one of the several symbols that show a descending tunnel which he believes will lead deeper into the bowels of the city-ship. While he examines the document, Whisper locates something on the floor under a stool near the bloodstains. It looks to be a small duty log. Flipping to the last entry she finds several entries written years ago on the Day of Mourning. She reads it aloud...
"We engaged the Cyrans at 1053. Several hours into our engagement with something happened. A few of the service teams were up top when a wall of clouds stretching from horizon to horizon rolled in. We buttoned up just in time. When it reached us the whole ship dropped. We weren't fully braced for something like that and my crews are reporting numerous injuries but so far nothing we can't handle. A few men popped the hatch to see what was going on. They stopped answering us within a few seconds of leaving the ladder. We sealed up again and I put out the order that everyone is to sit tight until we get the all clear."
"It's been hours now. The cores are still dormant. The mage-wrights can't awaken them. It's as if part of their bindings had failed and they were no longer compelled to obey us. I've handed out emergency light stones and rations from the stores to keep everyone calm. Word has been circulating from on high that no one is to go outside."
3 days after
"Crew discipline is slipping. We've been down for three days now. I've had crews working to repair damage throughout the ship from the crash but some of them have been failing to report back in at the end of the shift. I've had their supervisors check all the usual smoke spots but they can't be found. The ship is only so big, they will turn up. When they do I will march them before the captain to be strung up for dereliction of duty to king and country. A few necks on the chopping block will keep the rest in line."
7 days after
"Something is definitely wrong. More of my crews have gone missing in the lowest tunnels. Many of them were loyal, competent, and hard working even after the crash. I don't think they deserted. Maybe the mists got inside. It is still enveloping the ship. We're beached like a whale. Only we can't get off. Everyone that tries to reach the surface level never comes back. The captain is still issuing orders, demanding that we get the Archon back in the air. I've almost got the major flow lines repaired for two of the cores. We'll be ready when the mage-wrights sort this out."
9 days after
Here the authors handwriting becomes unsteady
"We're under attack. There are things in the tunnels now. Some of them look humanoid but all wrong. One of them had Jr. Tech Smithfield's face. It was horrible. Everyone headed for the dormitories where most of security has been focused to protect the civilians. I can't reach it. There was only the surface access ladder or storage 243f. I've got a bit of food here but no water. There are some heavy wrenches though. When it gets quiet I'll make a run for it."
There are no further entries after this point.
"We engaged the Cyrans at 1053. Several hours into our engagement with something happened. A few of the service teams were up top when a wall of clouds stretching from horizon to horizon rolled in. We buttoned up just in time. When it reached us the whole ship dropped. We weren't fully braced for something like that and my crews are reporting numerous injuries but so far nothing we can't handle. A few men popped the hatch to see what was going on. They stopped answering us within a few seconds of leaving the ladder. We sealed up again and I put out the order that everyone is to sit tight until we get the all clear."
"It's been hours now. The cores are still dormant. The mage-wrights can't awaken them. It's as if part of their bindings had failed and they were no longer compelled to obey us. I've handed out emergency light stones and rations from the stores to keep everyone calm. Word has been circulating from on high that no one is to go outside."
3 days after
"Crew discipline is slipping. We've been down for three days now. I've had crews working to repair damage throughout the ship from the crash but some of them have been failing to report back in at the end of the shift. I've had their supervisors check all the usual smoke spots but they can't be found. The ship is only so big, they will turn up. When they do I will march them before the captain to be strung up for dereliction of duty to king and country. A few necks on the chopping block will keep the rest in line."
7 days after
"Something is definitely wrong. More of my crews have gone missing in the lowest tunnels. Many of them were loyal, competent, and hard working even after the crash. I don't think they deserted. Maybe the mists got inside. It is still enveloping the ship. We're beached like a whale. Only we can't get off. Everyone that tries to reach the surface level never comes back. The captain is still issuing orders, demanding that we get the Archon back in the air. I've almost got the major flow lines repaired for two of the cores. We'll be ready when the mage-wrights sort this out."
9 days after
Here the authors handwriting becomes unsteady
"We're under attack. There are things in the tunnels now. Some of them look humanoid but all wrong. One of them had Jr. Tech Smithfield's face. It was horrible. Everyone headed for the dormitories where most of security has been focused to protect the civilians. I can't reach it. There was only the surface access ladder or storage 243f. I've got a bit of food here but no water. There are some heavy wrenches though. When it gets quiet I'll make a run for it."
There are no further entries after this point.
Deuce Traveler
Adventurer
After a brief and uncomfortable silence Doral says, "None of us were under the delusions that this task would be easy. I would guess we shall soon find these tunnel dwellers, unless they all ate each other by now. What do you make of the descriptions? Do you think we are hearing about undead or abberations?"
Whisper shakes her head. "No telling," she replies quietly. "But he didn't say they looked dead...and some kind of uncontrolled mutation or twisting would be consistent with how the Mourning affected other things it didn't kill."
She takes a deep breath and puts the journal in her pouch. The notion of magic twisting a body against one's will was perhaps uncomfortably close to home for her.
"Lets make a copy or two of that map...at least the important parts. In case something happens to any one of us, the rest should be able to get out."
She takes a deep breath and puts the journal in her pouch. The notion of magic twisting a body against one's will was perhaps uncomfortably close to home for her.
"Lets make a copy or two of that map...at least the important parts. In case something happens to any one of us, the rest should be able to get out."
SelcSilverhand
First Post
You return to the labyrinthine tunnel system below the city and begin making your way towards the next level. The pipes around you hiss, groan, pop, rattle, and squeal in an unnerving fashion. Set at regular intervals are mage-light stones that are supposed to glow for ages, but they appear to be affected by the twisted magics of the Mournlands. The ones that still work flicker weakly or strobe madly. Twice you are forced to backtrack due to metal debris filling the hallway or hot steam venting into a tunnel. There are more signs of struggle here in the tunnels. "Fresh" blood splatters the walls or is streaked across the floors though you still haven't seen any bodies. You take your time, checking the floors, ceilings, and all the nooks and crannies for anything dangerous. There are many side tunnels that you leave unexplored by necessity which makes you slightly uneasy knowing that anything could be lurking farther down them.
After navigating the tunnels for a good twenty minutes Kraken suddenly raises a fist to signal a halt. Dimly outlined by a flickering light farther down the tunnel at the next intersection stands a figure. It looks man-sized and shaped, but you cannot tell much more than that.
After navigating the tunnels for a good twenty minutes Kraken suddenly raises a fist to signal a halt. Dimly outlined by a flickering light farther down the tunnel at the next intersection stands a figure. It looks man-sized and shaped, but you cannot tell much more than that.
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# #Deuce Traveler
Adventurer
Doral is already on edge by the old blood that never had the good decency to dry and brown. "Hold Kraken. We have every reason to believe that whoever that is may not have an interest to see us continue breathing. You! Over there! Stand and declare yourself!"
If the figure does not move or respond, Doral takes out his hand of the mage fetish and tries to use it to poke hard at him to see if it is a living being or a dummy set up in front of the party.
If the figure does not move or respond, Doral takes out his hand of the mage fetish and tries to use it to poke hard at him to see if it is a living being or a dummy set up in front of the party.
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