Chapter 2: The Sinews of War

[Urson]

Jake kneels and begins poking through the wreckage of the desk. [1d20] = 10

[Rowenn552]

Basil Day

Having witnessed his advice with the desk found sound and effective he turns his attention to Splinters and the ascending staircase.

Basil says to no one in particular, "Funny thing... I always wondered what was backstage.", then to the group, excitedly, "Shall we?"

And Basil begins to ascend the stairs.

[Pulpatoon]

The desk lies shattered on the floor. It's central drawer disgorges a flurry of yellow confetti—brittle documents that fell apart when the desk was destroyed.

Jake uncovers a small ivory tube. Inside is a tightly rolled up piece of parchment. It is as brittle as the destroyed documents, and will take some clever finessing to get out of the tube in one piece.

Beyond that, the party finds only spider eggs and mouse droppings.

Wikerus examines several of the books from the shelves. They, too, are delicate and ready to dissolve into shreds at the slightest obloquy. He finds several books of possible verse in what might be Russian, and a large, ostentatiously illustrated catalog of fish, its once-vibrant colors faded now to the barest tints.

Splinters and Basil Day find a set of giant-sized wooden stone stairs with human-scaled steps carved in their center. The rise 90' into the air, where the meet another hatch, far above, nestled among the swatch of red velvet. There is no sign where the painted wall went.

Horton's inspection of the descending hatch finds the chamber below dark and quiet. The light of the putti has extinguished, and the sound of battle is too far away to be heard.

Actions!
Next post: Friday morning, around 10am EDT, 2pm GMT

[kensanata]

Splinter starts moving up. After a few steps he takes his little mallet and gives the wooden construction a whack every now and then, just to make sure it's solid all the way up.

[coil23]

Eyeing the desk excavation activities idly, Horton waxes nostalgic while waiting for the consensus to proceed. I knew of an isolated cloister once. The blizzards that year were terribly fierce and the mountain pass was blocked for months on end. When we were finally able to get through to bring supplies to our brethren it was amazing to see the ingenuity with which they survived. In particular I recall a delicious soup they had made. A roux of melted snow and sawdust served to thicken it but the taste....spider eggs and mouse droppings were the primary ingredients. Something of a witch's mirepoix if I were in a poetic mood. Delicate taste. And the spider eggs would gently open at just the right amount of heat and release these small morsels. One has to eschew normal sensibilities for such things...outside of emergencies, of course. But it is oddly comforting to realize that cuisine can be found in the most unlikely of places.

[Pulpatoon]

Splinter starts moving up. After a few steps he takes his little mallet and gives the wooden construction a whack every now and then, just to make sure it's solid all the way up.

OOPS! I meant to say they were stone stairs!

[Urson]

Jake carefully pockets the ivory tube, planning to tinker with getting the parchment out later.

He listens to Horton's tale of survival soup, turning greener and greener as time passes. He joins the crew on the stairs.

[Rowenn552]

Basil Day

"Ah ha this must lead to the box seating!", Basil quickly races up the stairs leaving a trail of silver and crimson paint chips behind him. As he rushes ahead he can be heard mumbling of all of the celebrities through the ages he has seen in these private seats: kings and queens, popes and cardinals, lords and ladies, philosophers and engineers!

When he reaches the hatch he pushes with all of his painted might!
Strength (2): [1d20] = 9

[Rusty Tincanne]

Feeling much better about himself and the situation after his violent outburst, Flintlock brushes shards of wood from his person. See how flimsy the wood was? I busted it right to pieces! Ha! He spits on the remnants of the desk. Then, noticing he is being left behind as the group heads up the stairs, he shrugs and follows behind.

The metallic man pauses a moment at the door and looks forlornly behind. I salute you, my Brothers in arm. Flintlock discharges a gunshot-volumed fart in their honor before dragging Hammer up the steps.

[coil23]

Horton will follow the group up the stairs.

[Pulpatoon]

The party climbs the stairs to the next level.

It is nearly identical to the previous two. It is a single round room of the same proportions, but without stairs climbing further. The roof, 90' above, reveals conical rafters and slate tiles.

The room is dominated by seven grotesque statues lining one arc of the room's circumference.

Each bears the label of a Deadly Sin, and there is a hatch on the floor before each one. You have just emerged through the hatch labeled "ENVY."

On the opposite side of the room from the seven statues, a 18' reed boat sits. It is pointed at a white panel that hangs from the neatly-joined black masonry of the wall.

Tucked away among some crumbled canvas tarpaulins, leaning against the wall like a discarded box of sweets, is a crystal coffin. Within reposes the perfectly still form of what can only be a princess. She wears a white wedding dress, a mink stole, and a delicate diamond tiara. The tapered fingers of her hands hold a thin crystal wand. Her cheeks bear the rosy blush of life, but she does not stir so much as to breathe.

As the last member of the party enters the tower's topmost room, the hatch falls shut and you feel a sudden lurch. The room spins around several times, sending you staggering around to maintain your balance.

The spinning stops.

Across the room, the white panel blossoms into a deep, penetrating black—a black so deep that it makes the black walls of the tower seem pale by comparison.

Actions!
Next post: Monday morning, around 10am EDT, 2pm GMT (or when I've heard from everyone—whichever comes first)

[ChubbyPixie]

"Hmm. Nice carp in this one." Sighing, Wikerus places the fish tome carefully back on the shelf, though he would be hard pressed to explain for whom he was attempting to preserve it. Perhaps an adventurous librarian or antique book dealer would happen this way.... He hikes up his backpack and follows the expedition up the man-sized steps, humming to himself. "Do we have everyone? Are we all accounted for?" He yells up to those ahead.

At the top he pauses, gazing around, most interested in the mystery presented by the sin statues and their corresponding trap doors, until the room spins crazily. This proves to be very distracting and not great for the inner ear. When he recovers and looks up again, he finally spots the woman in the crystal coffin. He walks a bit closer. "She has a wand. A magical wand by all appearances... is there any other kind? Um... are we certain the wizard and the princess are two distinct entities? I'm no expert, but his one looks like a wizard-princess."

[coil23]

Horton, deeply suspicious of the deep black panel, looks for a small pebble or bit of wood to toss at it to see if it goes through or bounces off as against a real wall.

[Rowenn552]

Basil Day

Casually walking the length of the statues but being wary of the hatches Basil says frowning, "Not quite the audience I had been expecting.."

Then very curious, he approaches one of the hatches randomly coming to the one in front of the green grinning statue of Greed. Looking about he adds before attempting to open it, "Maybe these fellows are just the ushers to the finer seating."

Then he sets his spear to the side and grabs hold of the hatch to lift it open.

Strength roll if needed and I chose the statue/hatch through a d7 roll.
Strength: [1d20] = 12

[Pulpatoon]

Horton's tossed pebble disappears into the blackness.

Basil finds a tarnished brass plaque on the hatch before the statue of Greed. It reads "Superbia raises a golden head above all others."

[Rowenn552]

Basil Day

Basil finds a tarnished brass plaque on the hatch before the statue of Greed. It reads "Superbia raises a golden head above all others."

Quietly to himself, "Hm interesting.. I wonder what it means?"

Basil makes his way down the line inspecting each hatch for more plaques. Perhaps putting them all together will help better understand a story?

Basil calls out to the others, "These hatches, they have messages written upon them. "

[kensanata]

Splinter can't take his wooden eyes off the princess and approaches the crystal coffin. He looks for a way to open it, tries to communicate with the princess, waving, knocking, Hello? Princess, hello? Can you hear me?

[Pulpatoon]

The crystal coffin has no hinges, locks, or fasteners. The lid seems fitted into the body, like a stopper in a decanter. The Princess does not respond to Splinter's knocking.

Basil finds a plaque on each hatch. Corresponding to the statue nearest each one, they read:

Lust: Who can deny the wanton truths of Luxria or Gula?
Gluttony: Better to eat Invidia’s lying tongue.
Greed: Superbia raises a golden head above all others.
Sloth: Acedia, Ira, or Invidia are meet and sufficient.
Wrath: If Luxuria is not to be trusted, turn to Avaritia or Superbia.
Envy: Possess Avaritia or Gula and none other.
Pride: Avaritia hordes truth, and shares only lies.

Additionally, Basil finds, scrapped into side corner of the base for the statue of Pride:

four true
three false

[coil23]

Horton shudders at seeing the pebble disappear into the void that should be a simple wall. (flashbacks to Tomb of Horrors) In an emergency they may take a leap but only as a last result. I hope?

Turning to the reading of the plaques he muses on the options. Wouldn't it be funny if the 'four true three false' inscription was one of the seven and one of the three false ones at that? Well, if all were true of the main seven, I'd say Gula is the way to go. Not sure how that helps any. Horton looks around the hatches and around the room to see if there are any indications of recent passage or if dust lay all around.

An idea pops into his head of a sudden. Eyeing the tarpaulins around the coffin suspiciously, he wonders if they could be similar to the black, pebble-devouring void if stretched out. He examines them carefully and will try to unroll them one at a time slowly for any indication of writing or portal qualities.

[Pulpatoon]

Horton gathers up the tarpaulins, dislodging the silken efforts of generations of spiders and scattering a legion of potentially delicious spider-eggs and their alarmed nursemaids. They prove to be ordinary cotton duck, although of notably ancient vintage. They are spattered here and there with odd stains and splotches. One has a few blocky characters marked on it in hasty brushstrokes. The part of Horton that was once a librarian recognizes them as a pre-Cyrillic alphabet belonging to what is generally referred to as Ancient Hyborean.

In the distance, there is a faint thumph! and a vibration runs through the stone floor.

Actions!
Next post: Wednesday morning, around 10am EDT, 2pm GMT (or when I've heard from everyone—whichever comes first)