80th of Frost, 4621
All of a sudden, the ground began to shake, and Arkash withdrew his legs in time to avoid the fall of his blade, and scrambled away from the face of the crag as the entire thing began to shift before his very eyes. One space, circled in sharp cracks began to sink into the rest of the crag and then sunk beyond the threshold of the earth.
The rath blinked as the dust settled, then carefully collected the handle of his sword as he crawled to his feet, and readied the point to aim at the opening. His side again came under strain while he aimed, but his focus was on combatting whatever had come upon him... If there was a threat at all.
A lean to the side saw Arkash peer around the corner, and found naught but a small, shaded room in the side of the crag. Uncertain, he moved back to the crack and peered at the thing he’d pulled. As his night vision activated, he found a long sort of pole with two handles, extended from the back end of the crack. It was some sort of mechanism, he realized. A handle that had revealed the room that now stood open before him. Arkash looked back to the opening and began his approach. One foot in front of the other, he positioned his sword so that nothing could come at him without first skewering itself, then quickly turned the corner and lifted his blade to aim for the neck of whoever might be there…
There was nothing, nothing in terms of people to jump out at him, but the design of the room itself was... odd. A circular floor made up the room, with four large toothed wheels in the corners. Dust and cobwebs clung to the carved rock walls of the cave, with all sorts of hard-shelled insects about the place. His brow furrowed as his eyes focused on the centerpiece of the room, which appeared to be a large, left-pressed lever.
He lowered his sword as he stepped closer, then sheathed it at his hip as he stepped inside. A glance about the room saw him inspect the insects there, which seemed mostly dormant in his presence. He didn’t mind, except for the fact that he couldn’t tell which ones had a venomous payload and which ones didn’t. He wouldn’t hazard to eat them for that cause. Again, he cast his gaze to the toothed wheels in the corners, then bent down to inspect them. They were metallic, almost like a set of brass gears. Dusty, old Cobwebs filled the gaps between the teeth to indicate they hadn’t been used in quite some time. If they really were gears, what purpose did they serve? A sigh saw him turn his attention to the lever in the middle of the room. A long copper pole with a brass knob at the end, set upon the longer edge of a crescent moon as the base of the lever. Across the cut stone floor, Arkash moved to the center of the room.
Part of him thought it was a bad idea to pull random levers in the desert, some familiar, repressed tension in his lungs that urged him to stop and turn around. That same feeling of tension and dread weighed heavy in his lungs as he wrapped the brass head with his claws, and seized the copper handle with the other. He leaned back and widened his stance. His fingers lifted and re-wrapped their grip repeatedly while he considered the weight of the decision in his claws. Then, after a short time thinking, he pulled the handle hard and stepped back in the motion to see the whole weight of the crank pull toward him, then boom a low snap somewhere beneath his feet. His heart sunk, and he let the lever go.
In less than a second, the lever fell back to its original position. The handle on the outside of the room pulled back to the crack with a snap, and the face of the crag lifted with speed that Arkash wasn’t ready for. He moved to dive for the door, but the sudden jerking motion saw his side erupt with deep-laden pain. He cried out, and watched with wide eyes as the solid rock closed shut before him.
His closed fist came upon the door while the ground beneath him rumbled and boomed with some distant sound. Before he could draw his black sword, the wheels on the side of the complex began to click, pop, and grind. The floor jerked below him, and he sank a sudden inch, then a second. Arkash stared in horror as the door moved further and further away, and as the machine set, he began to descend smoothly. His close fist opened as the walls around him moved upward, and he dragged his claws along the face of the passage. The descent was too slow to be an uncontrolled fall, he realized. Was he standing on some sort of golem? A machine? Could an Artificer create such a thing? After some long descent, it came to a stop, and Arkash wobbled at the sudden slamming halt. He looked up, left, then right, and turned around to behold an open arch cut into the wall, and beyond it, a passage into the dark. Arkash drew his sword.
Part of him wished to try the handle again, but who knew if that would take him back or take him even lower. Besides, there wasn’t any immediate danger, was there? Carefully, his foot claws fell past the threshold of the arch, and the air he breathed was stale, dusty. He coughed at the initial exposure, then lifted part of his burlap shirt to cover his mouth. Through the fabric, he filtered his the air and squinted as his dried eyes peered into the dark.
It didn't take too long for his eyes to adjust to the dryness of the derelict chamber and focused on the pitch darkness of the derelict before him. A long passage spurred forward, carved cave walls extending into the bedrock around him. The rock formation was partly natural, partly man-made. Arkash realized that the area must have been a sort of cave when it was first found, later transformed into the neatly cut halls laid before him. The floor was the same stone as the walls that surrounded him; tan brown, whitened where it was scuffed with age. Cobwebs and the like clung to the walls and ceiling of the passage, rat droppings and withered insect husks laid scattered across the floor.
It didn’t look as though anyone had been there in an age, and his heart began to beat faster at the realization. He didn’t know why it struck him so, but the idea of venturing into a place that no one else had seen in a long time excited him. Everything in his chest urged him to venture deeper, to see just where he was, what the complex might have been used for.
Far below the surface, he found a distinct chill to the air, the stone beneath his claws tried to drink the stored warmth from his scales. It was a subtle drain, but present all the same.
Along the hall he traveled down were arches of larger webs, woven over one another in layers upon layers of woven silk. Despite the layers, Arkash could see a void beyond the silk threads. Carefully, he pressed his blade to the silk. And when it gave way, he found that his sword could sink all the way to the hilt.
With a flex of his wrist, he cut through the webbing, and discovered brickwork to line the arch. As the webbing fell away, another room became unveiled, carved out in the stone with a variety of broken, rotting wooden debris scattered about the floor. Thick webs sloped the corners of the room and hung draped over sections of the carved wall that jutted further than the rest. Briefly, he scanned the room, then shook his head to step back out, and proceeded deeper into the complex.
More archways of similar designs lined the wall of that long hallway, and every time Arkash checked those rooms he found debris with various degrees of wood rot and rusted metal, until the path came to a head with another room right at the end. Like the last few, the entrance was woven shut. As Arkash lifted the tip of his blade to the barrier, something changed.
A squeaky sort of grinding noise whistled from beyond the film of silk, as though two surfaces were squeaking together somewhere on the other side. Movement, he recognized. Something was moving in the derelict? Uncertain, he stepped back but kept his sword extended… Up until his heel knocked something solid with a hefty bang.
He turned on the spot, and looked to the hollow box with a raise to his brows. Widened eyes returned to the doorway ahead of him, and he listened carefully. Silence came. Had he scared whatever was on the other side? Regardless, he kept his sword raised, then bent down to inspect the case he’d kicked. It was closed at the front with two buckles, which he carefully undid with one claw, occasionally glancing back to the sealed doorway, then lifted the lid of the case. He took a quick glance at its contents, furrowed his brow, and double-took.
Inside, on a bedding of red velvet was a rifle unlike any he’d seen before. The body of the metalwork was a matte sort of grey metal, with gold engravements and accented parts.
Another glance was cast to the doorway, where Arkash found no activity, then carefully lowered his sword to the ground. Both hands retrieved the rifle and lifted it from the bedding. The weapon was heavier than he was used to, a barrel wider in diameter than what he normally handled. Arkash squinted a little while he inspected the weapon’s features, then glanced back to the doorway quickly. Still, there was no activity, but it wasn’t the place for him to be inspecting a weapon. So, he shouldered the sling of the rifle and reclaimed his sword. A brief once-over the case saw no extra bullets or ammo to speak of.
He shrugged. Finding a weapon that looked as good as the one he carried was already a miracle, he didn’t need to push his luck with a case of ammo, too. A final glance was cast in the direction of the main chamber, and he began to walk back again before he turned to head back to the lift.
A chill ran down his spine as he made his way through the complex, and as he stepped onto the platform of the lift, he looked over his shoulder, turned around, and wondered. What waited beyond the wall of silk?
All of a sudden, the ground began to shake, and Arkash withdrew his legs in time to avoid the fall of his blade, and scrambled away from the face of the crag as the entire thing began to shift before his very eyes. One space, circled in sharp cracks began to sink into the rest of the crag and then sunk beyond the threshold of the earth.
The rath blinked as the dust settled, then carefully collected the handle of his sword as he crawled to his feet, and readied the point to aim at the opening. His side again came under strain while he aimed, but his focus was on combatting whatever had come upon him... If there was a threat at all.
A lean to the side saw Arkash peer around the corner, and found naught but a small, shaded room in the side of the crag. Uncertain, he moved back to the crack and peered at the thing he’d pulled. As his night vision activated, he found a long sort of pole with two handles, extended from the back end of the crack. It was some sort of mechanism, he realized. A handle that had revealed the room that now stood open before him. Arkash looked back to the opening and began his approach. One foot in front of the other, he positioned his sword so that nothing could come at him without first skewering itself, then quickly turned the corner and lifted his blade to aim for the neck of whoever might be there…
There was nothing, nothing in terms of people to jump out at him, but the design of the room itself was... odd. A circular floor made up the room, with four large toothed wheels in the corners. Dust and cobwebs clung to the carved rock walls of the cave, with all sorts of hard-shelled insects about the place. His brow furrowed as his eyes focused on the centerpiece of the room, which appeared to be a large, left-pressed lever.
He lowered his sword as he stepped closer, then sheathed it at his hip as he stepped inside. A glance about the room saw him inspect the insects there, which seemed mostly dormant in his presence. He didn’t mind, except for the fact that he couldn’t tell which ones had a venomous payload and which ones didn’t. He wouldn’t hazard to eat them for that cause. Again, he cast his gaze to the toothed wheels in the corners, then bent down to inspect them. They were metallic, almost like a set of brass gears. Dusty, old Cobwebs filled the gaps between the teeth to indicate they hadn’t been used in quite some time. If they really were gears, what purpose did they serve? A sigh saw him turn his attention to the lever in the middle of the room. A long copper pole with a brass knob at the end, set upon the longer edge of a crescent moon as the base of the lever. Across the cut stone floor, Arkash moved to the center of the room.
Part of him thought it was a bad idea to pull random levers in the desert, some familiar, repressed tension in his lungs that urged him to stop and turn around. That same feeling of tension and dread weighed heavy in his lungs as he wrapped the brass head with his claws, and seized the copper handle with the other. He leaned back and widened his stance. His fingers lifted and re-wrapped their grip repeatedly while he considered the weight of the decision in his claws. Then, after a short time thinking, he pulled the handle hard and stepped back in the motion to see the whole weight of the crank pull toward him, then boom a low snap somewhere beneath his feet. His heart sunk, and he let the lever go.
In less than a second, the lever fell back to its original position. The handle on the outside of the room pulled back to the crack with a snap, and the face of the crag lifted with speed that Arkash wasn’t ready for. He moved to dive for the door, but the sudden jerking motion saw his side erupt with deep-laden pain. He cried out, and watched with wide eyes as the solid rock closed shut before him.
His closed fist came upon the door while the ground beneath him rumbled and boomed with some distant sound. Before he could draw his black sword, the wheels on the side of the complex began to click, pop, and grind. The floor jerked below him, and he sank a sudden inch, then a second. Arkash stared in horror as the door moved further and further away, and as the machine set, he began to descend smoothly. His close fist opened as the walls around him moved upward, and he dragged his claws along the face of the passage. The descent was too slow to be an uncontrolled fall, he realized. Was he standing on some sort of golem? A machine? Could an Artificer create such a thing? After some long descent, it came to a stop, and Arkash wobbled at the sudden slamming halt. He looked up, left, then right, and turned around to behold an open arch cut into the wall, and beyond it, a passage into the dark. Arkash drew his sword.
Part of him wished to try the handle again, but who knew if that would take him back or take him even lower. Besides, there wasn’t any immediate danger, was there? Carefully, his foot claws fell past the threshold of the arch, and the air he breathed was stale, dusty. He coughed at the initial exposure, then lifted part of his burlap shirt to cover his mouth. Through the fabric, he filtered his the air and squinted as his dried eyes peered into the dark.
It didn't take too long for his eyes to adjust to the dryness of the derelict chamber and focused on the pitch darkness of the derelict before him. A long passage spurred forward, carved cave walls extending into the bedrock around him. The rock formation was partly natural, partly man-made. Arkash realized that the area must have been a sort of cave when it was first found, later transformed into the neatly cut halls laid before him. The floor was the same stone as the walls that surrounded him; tan brown, whitened where it was scuffed with age. Cobwebs and the like clung to the walls and ceiling of the passage, rat droppings and withered insect husks laid scattered across the floor.
It didn’t look as though anyone had been there in an age, and his heart began to beat faster at the realization. He didn’t know why it struck him so, but the idea of venturing into a place that no one else had seen in a long time excited him. Everything in his chest urged him to venture deeper, to see just where he was, what the complex might have been used for.
Far below the surface, he found a distinct chill to the air, the stone beneath his claws tried to drink the stored warmth from his scales. It was a subtle drain, but present all the same.
Along the hall he traveled down were arches of larger webs, woven over one another in layers upon layers of woven silk. Despite the layers, Arkash could see a void beyond the silk threads. Carefully, he pressed his blade to the silk. And when it gave way, he found that his sword could sink all the way to the hilt.
With a flex of his wrist, he cut through the webbing, and discovered brickwork to line the arch. As the webbing fell away, another room became unveiled, carved out in the stone with a variety of broken, rotting wooden debris scattered about the floor. Thick webs sloped the corners of the room and hung draped over sections of the carved wall that jutted further than the rest. Briefly, he scanned the room, then shook his head to step back out, and proceeded deeper into the complex.
More archways of similar designs lined the wall of that long hallway, and every time Arkash checked those rooms he found debris with various degrees of wood rot and rusted metal, until the path came to a head with another room right at the end. Like the last few, the entrance was woven shut. As Arkash lifted the tip of his blade to the barrier, something changed.
A squeaky sort of grinding noise whistled from beyond the film of silk, as though two surfaces were squeaking together somewhere on the other side. Movement, he recognized. Something was moving in the derelict? Uncertain, he stepped back but kept his sword extended… Up until his heel knocked something solid with a hefty bang.
He turned on the spot, and looked to the hollow box with a raise to his brows. Widened eyes returned to the doorway ahead of him, and he listened carefully. Silence came. Had he scared whatever was on the other side? Regardless, he kept his sword raised, then bent down to inspect the case he’d kicked. It was closed at the front with two buckles, which he carefully undid with one claw, occasionally glancing back to the sealed doorway, then lifted the lid of the case. He took a quick glance at its contents, furrowed his brow, and double-took.
Inside, on a bedding of red velvet was a rifle unlike any he’d seen before. The body of the metalwork was a matte sort of grey metal, with gold engravements and accented parts.
Another glance was cast to the doorway, where Arkash found no activity, then carefully lowered his sword to the ground. Both hands retrieved the rifle and lifted it from the bedding. The weapon was heavier than he was used to, a barrel wider in diameter than what he normally handled. Arkash squinted a little while he inspected the weapon’s features, then glanced back to the doorway quickly. Still, there was no activity, but it wasn’t the place for him to be inspecting a weapon. So, he shouldered the sling of the rifle and reclaimed his sword. A brief once-over the case saw no extra bullets or ammo to speak of.
He shrugged. Finding a weapon that looked as good as the one he carried was already a miracle, he didn’t need to push his luck with a case of ammo, too. A final glance was cast in the direction of the main chamber, and he began to walk back again before he turned to head back to the lift.
A chill ran down his spine as he made his way through the complex, and as he stepped onto the platform of the lift, he looked over his shoulder, turned around, and wondered. What waited beyond the wall of silk?
Image source.
