Key Quest Hush


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#1

The cries came one night in Leafchange. A downpour - swift and sudden in the black veil draped over the land - should have muffled them, but it didn't.

To some they would appear as a child's wails, some small and fragile creature calling out for someone, for anyone.

To others a woman's gentle weeping would be what drew them from their homes, so sad and forlorn as to strike them right to the core.

Others still would hear the echoing screams of people in pain, their voices strained and hoarse and begging for relief.

Whatever tempted them from their beds, it would tease them right from the cradle of the Sanctuary (or the Fields, or the Settlement...) and out... out towards the Ruins. Farther still, through winding streets of rock and devastation, until eventually they stood before a once-grand old boulevard that had caved abruptly inwards.

Down amongst the rubble, through rivulets of dark rainwater... the entrance to the Underground cried out to them with everything it had. What lay within? They would need to step inside, and find out.



Welcome to the Key Quest! This quest has four open positions, but there are race restrictions:

1. Amalia
2. Desmond
3. Samuel
4. Remi
5. {BONUS BALL} Archebold

So that's two Accepted, one Ascended and one Attuned required for this quest to proceed! It's first come, first serve - please post your character approaching the Underground to participate. REMEMBER: KQs are rewarding, but dangerous. They may cause death and/or permanent changes to your characters - enter at your own risk!
HUSH
silence is the most powerful scream
Samuel Wordsworth
Book maker/seller

Age: 34 | Height: 5' 5" | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
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#2

Sam woke up from a dreamless sleep to a sound distinctly sad yet in distinctive in itself. He laid for a moment in bed just trying to ignore it but found he couldn't, the melancholy noise just too enticing. Just to see what it was, he told himself. Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that something much more serious than an annoying noise was happening.

He stood and shrugging on a coat and some slippers, walked outside. The noise continued, despite how still and quiet the settlement looked. He stepped in the direction of it and stopped to look back, just once -- then he continued on.

Eventually, stepping over rocks and cracks carefully, he came to somewhere he had never been before (he had never really been one for exploring, preferring the comforts of home and familiarity). The dip was ominous, surely, but strangely inviting as well. Slowly, Sam knelt down and touched the ground, trying to get a feel for the place.

"Hello...?" He asked out into the night, not sure if the sound he'd heard had been a person or not.  With no answer, he took his first shaky steps into the dark.


Samuel
Another little nothing-ever-after, Nothing more

Collector

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#3
archebold
Fear is the price of imagination
Archebold, curious by nature, heard the lure. Sleep had seldom come, even in this new world where he was free to come and go as he pleased.

There wasn't a specific reason he could tether that would call him out into the rain, a long overcoat and thin scarf he 'found' on someone complimented his overall luxurious look, walking stick barely muted by the rain.

The rain did little to detour his need for exploration of this new world, and quell his curiosity. Archebold approached the entrance to the underground, one hand gripping his walking stick as the other smoothed back his hair.

He didn't bother speaking for someone had already announced their presence. Archebold would flip up his walking stick to negate the sound of his approach.

As what felt like a passing wind, he would appear behind Samuel and tap his shoulder with the golden lionshead knob of the stick.

"Must you always appear pathetic...it's a disgrace the lineage you are supposed to be carrying on."

He'd remark, walking past the young man as he glanced around to gather his surroundings.
Amalia Chandrakant
the Archangel
Baker

Age: 29 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
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#4
A M A L I A


"Mama?"

The crying woman cannot be her mother, but Amalia does not care.

It sounds - it sounds - like her mother's tears, so mournful and solemn, all those years ago. A piper's cry, a siren's song; it curls through her open window, nestling deep into her ear, waking her from sleep. She follows it through the cold night, compelled and curious and not unafraid, stopping long enough to grab her staff and lantern before slipping into the night. Wrapped in a shawl, the girl floats on, her booted feet stepping lightly on as she leaves her shop and pursues the sound, away from civilization, from home and hearth, until she reaches the ruins of the old world.

Her breath comes fast in swirling steam, curling around her face. This cannot be a good idea, that much Amalia knows, drawing to a stop. The Underground looms empty ahead, and though Amalia peers through the dark she cannot see much through the dark. Ahead, she thinks, a figure looms. "Hello? the firelit girl asks, her deep voice quivering in the cold rain. "Is anyone in there?"

As she approaches the figure seems to grow, before splitting into two: both men, both strangers, neither the source of the mournful sound. Disappointed and relieved, the girl draws closer, her lantern casting a subtly glow despite the falling rain. She draws up near to Samuel, her dark eyes wide and her voice deep as she peers into the cavern. "Do you hear it, too? the girl asks, not knowing what would be worse - if he hears the cries, or if he does not.



Remi Taliesin
the Bastion


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#5
remi
The higher I climb the farther I fall when I do
Roused by the sound of crying, the alchemist suddenly sat bolt upright. Rubbing at his eyes, he immediately went to the door and opened it, cocking an ear to the outside world to try and locate the sound. The wails continued and without thought to the potential consequences, Remi quickly shrugged on a sweater and followed the sounds. Shifting into a hawk where he could both hear and see and move faster, Remi glided swiftly, eyes scanning the ground below for any signs of distress.

In the back of his mind something warned him that this might be a trick. Was this not precisely how Ludo how lured him into the swamp the first time? Under false pretences? But never would Remi ever allow someone to suffer simply because it might be a trick. Better that Remi suffer the consequences than someone else.

Spying a group below, a quite odd one in fact, Remi felt pulled to land. Instinctually he felt that the cries emanated from here, despite the fact he couldn't hear them any longer. Descending and shifting gracefully, the young alchemist nodded towards Archebold, the only member of the group he knew. "Captain Cobb." He said with a polite nod, before offering a smile to Amalia - the woman he'd encountered in the library with Loren and Edy, before offering a nervous but boyish smile towards Samuel.
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Desmond Sariel
Healer

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#6

It was later than he usually cared to do the cleaning of his equipment, but some poor sap in the woodlands had kept him longer than he expected. Besides, it wasn’t like he didn’t want to be there. He loved what he did, loved helping people and caring for them when they couldn’t do the same for themselves. Even the new ring he had gotten from the creature on the bone bridge spoke to him in that way, allowing him to understand the pain someone else was feeling to better help them. It was in his blood.

Suddenly, a cry. One, two, more? It rang out in Desmond’s ears, painful, agonizing cries for relief, and the man felt his heart racing. Immediately, he packed his supplies in his bag once again and raced out of his house towards the voices.

The cries brought him to the ruins, not shocking considering a lot of people tended to get hurt around these parts, but what was strange was that he ran into four others. His eyes were considerate, the cries still echoing in his mind. What was happening?

”Is anyone hurt?” He asked, approaching the group, slightly out of breath from the brisk run.

desmond
Talk to the Moon, Heal the Soul



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#7

What a wonderful rag-tag bunch.

For better or worse, strangers or not, the group would take their first steps down into the deep dark. The rain drops to a soft whisper, pitter pattering against the entranceway, and the air smells stale. The cries have dropped to utter silence.

Samuel and Archebold, however, still hear it - a single voice like the peal of a bell, seeming to come from nowhere and everywhere at once. The world in front of the party is a wall of shadow, but before them the ground evens out. Not rubble here, but stone - slate, by the seeming of it.

They can go left... or right. No forward route seems viable.



It is pitch black down here! Unless you are an Ascended, have an item or ability that allows you to see in the dark or a light source available, you are effectively blind.

Please post LEFT or RIGHT at the beginning of your next post to indicate which route you take. You do not have to make this choice as a group. (Yes, yesssss. Split the party). Post order is as follows:

Samuel
Archebold
Amalia
Remi
Desmond

You have 48 hours to respond after the person before you. If you don't respond in time, your fate will be decided for you. :B
HUSH
silence is the most powerful scream
Samuel Wordsworth
Book maker/seller

Age: 34 | Height: 5' 5" | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 10 - Strg: 28 - Dext: 25 - Endr: 27 - Luck: 25 - Int: 1
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#8

LEFT

Sam was surprised to see others had heard the strange noise and gathered here as well. He frowned as he heard Archebold's voice, knowing immediately he was about to be chastised. As far as he was concerned, the 'lineage' he had wasn't worth much other than a lot of bother and pain.

He stood up, said nothing to Archebold but pointedly didn't look at him. As Amalia approached and asked her question he nodded, although he wasn't sure if they'd all heard the same thing. He didn't even know how he'd explain the noise he'd heard. As Remi and Desmond arrived he simply smiled a greeting, not recognising them.

Going further into the cave (for what else was there to do? At least there was safety in numbers, he reminded himself) the noise became ever present, and Sam held a hand up to his ear as if it would help. Coming to a split, he looked back towards the others and chewed his lip to think. One way did not seem better than the other - he hoped he would be able to return if he had made the wrong choice.

"I-I think we should head down here." He announced, stepping left. Proud of himself for making a group decision (and more than a little worried he would become some kind of de facto leader, a position he very much did not want) he tried to look confident in his choice.


Samuel
Another little nothing-ever-after, Nothing more

Collector

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#9
archebold
Fear is the price of imagination
Archebold stood at the fork, and watched as Samuel showed his initiative and took the path on the left. He smirked...adorable...the blind leading the blind. If the boy only knew the power that came with being one like himself. Instead such a gift withered in a sniveling specimen.

Tongue flicked between his teeth as he turned to the others, winking and nodding at Remi before he turned to Desmond and Amalia

"I'm not a believer of following one simple path...I will go RIGHT, improve our odds as to finding the source of the voice calling out to us."

Archebold turned and slowly tapped his walking stick over to Amalia, look of concern painted on his pale complexion.

"Don't worry my dear...I too hear it as well."

His voice held a continuous calm, an ease to it. Black, hollow eyes lingered on her a moment before he turned and began walking toward the path on the right.

"I can see the path ahead as clear as day. Go left, go right...it doesn't matter,  not if both paths lead to the same destination."

Archebold held a little more confidence in himself, in his mannerisms and words and perhaps that would sway some in believing he be the safer choice. Regardless he continued, stopping only briefly to wait to see if he heard steps following behind him. His slender finger gently tapping against the gold lionshead knob as he patiently waited. Though he held every intention to continue whether they chose to follow him or not.
Amalia Chandrakant
the Archangel
Baker

Age: 29 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
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#10
A M A L I A


LEFT

More arrive: one familiar, the other strange, but all apparently drawn here by the same sentient siren call. Amalia regards them with curious interest, her head nodding slightly as she returns Remi's smile. "Not out here," she replies to Desmond; what's in there may be hangs unspoken in the cool night air, with none appearing willing to discuss the danger, the thing that drew them all to this place. They do not need to- they all understand, and as a group they descend into darkness, Amalia falling in behind Archebold as the darkness envelops them all.

Shadows wrap around them, plunging the group into night. Amalia shivers against the darkness, resisting the urge to run, to escape, a lifelong fear of what cannot be seen gripping coldly at her heart. She is grateful, now, for the glow of her lantern, the light cast flickering but refusing to go out, illuminating passageways that split up ahead as well as the faces of her strange companions. The first to arrive, Samuel, is the first to speak, proposing they take the leftward branch - East, she thins, toward Vi, and the quiet prayer reassures her.

Less reassuring is Archebold's decision to veer to the right, splitting the already fragile group. For a moment Amalia's mouth flies open, but just as quickly it snaps shut as realization hits her: he can see in the dark because he's an Ascended, one of them, creations of the New Gods and usurpers of the Old (if the legends are to be believed). Of course the man is arrogant, of course he wants to split the group. Still irked, Amalia steps forward, her fragile lantern held high as the girl makes up her mind.

"I'll go with you," she murmurs to Samuel. "Since I have a light." Her dark eyes flicker back to Archebold before turning to look at the other two men. "We shouldn't separate out too far - these tunnels are dangerous." And dark.



Remi Taliesin
the Bastion


Age: 31 | Height: 5'11 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
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#11
remi
The higher I climb the farther I fall when I do
LEFT

Kneeling down, Remi tries to create a piece of flint and some wood to create a torch with. If they are to venture somewhere dark he would rather have a light source that benefits all rather than simply shifting his eyes to those of a lion. However as he focuses, he finds that his magic seems to be entirely inert down here. Either that, or perhaps Ludo has retracted whatever it was which he gave in the first place. Immediately Remi feels a pang of sadness. There was so much he wanted to do and make and try. But if the magic is gone...well. He had a whole lifetime of living without. He'd make do again.

The alchemist watches as the red-haired man takes the path on the left while Archebold goes to the right. Immediately Remi is inclined to follow the Captain, seeing as he is the only one of the assembled members that he knows. However without the ability to create light for himself, he'd have to rely on Archebold to guide him. Sometime tells the alchemist that that would be a hindrance to them both if they were to encounter trouble, and given the perfect darkness down here, even his lion's eyes would be of no use.

Unless he went somewhere which already had light...

"We will meet you on the other side." Remi calls towards Archebold, before going LEFT towards Amalia and her light where he might do some good. Shifting his eyes so that they are a predatory gold instead of his usual sea-glass green, Remi's eyes take in the meagre light offered by the lantern, allowing him to see easily in the dark.
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Desmond Sariel
Healer

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#12

LEFT

What was happening? Desmond didn’t like this… There had been undeniable cries, wailing as though multiple people were in agony. Then, they just all of the sudden stopped? This didn’t feel natural, didn’t feel right, safe. What…

The rain eased, and the healer felt his chest clench more than usual as the air seemed to just stop all motion, as though it had been sitting stagnantly for the gods only know how long.

Everything was darkness. Everything was silence. This was wrong.

Desmond cared little for his own safety. As far as he could remember, the wellbeing of others had always superseded his own. While he had a strange instinct that traveling with Archebold would likely be somehow safer overall, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He had no way of seeing with the one man, which brought him to put together that the man with the walking stick was an Ascended. There wouldn’t be much he could do medically for him anyway. Of the others, two of them could benefit from his abilities, and that was what he cared most about.

Seeing by the lantern Amalia had brought was also a benefit, though it wasn’t what ultimately made his decision.

”Call out if you need anything,” Desmond said to the man who decided to deviate from the rest of the group, a genuine tone of caution in his voice, as he nodded to him and started to the LEFT after Remi and the others.

desmond
Talk to the Moon, Heal the Soul



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#13

And off they went - a group to the left, a lone wolf to the right.

Those who decided to go LEFT, following light and choosing safety in numbers, would be rewarded a short few steps later with... a dead end. How unfortunate. Samuel , though, would continue to hear the mournful cries of whatever it was that called out to them. Behind the wall blocking their path, it echoed, coaxing, calling... and upon closer inspection, it looked as though these stones were old, eroded by water and time.

Perhaps the group might be able to knock their way through the dead end to the other side? Or maybe they might decide to follow their errant party member instead...

Speaking of which, Archebold would find his own path curving, turning a corner into the deep dark. Not that it would bother the Ascended any. Around the corner he would easily be able to discern a dead end in front of him, but another, new opening to the left. Should he enter this new passageway, he'd be greeted with a line of grotesques clawing their stony way out of the walls. The gargoyles were motionless, their water spouts empty, but the corridor ahead still shimmered with liquid. Archebold would not be able to tell how deep it was. What will he do?



LEFT group, if you decide to try and break through the wall (any of you, it doesn't have to be a group decision), post how you attempt to do this!

Post order is as follows:

Samuel
Amalia
Remi
Desmond
Archebold

You have 48 hours to respond after the person before you. If you don't respond in time, your fate will be decided for you. :B
HUSH
silence is the most powerful scream
Samuel Wordsworth
Book maker/seller

Age: 34 | Height: 5' 5" | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 10 - Strg: 28 - Dext: 25 - Endr: 27 - Luck: 25 - Int: 1
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#14

Samuel was surprised that everyone chose to follow him down the left path; he had never been popular, always chosen last for games as a child. Nervous about his new following he set off down the dark pathway, so distracted by trying to appear confident that he nearly walked into the wall before him.

"Oh! Stop." He said to the people behind him, reaching out to feel the eroded stones. They were wet and felt almost loose, but he knew he wasn't strong enough to break through them. Disappointed to failed in leading his little troop so quickly, Sam turned back to Remi, Amalia and Desmond.

"Maybe if we all..p-pushed together, we could break it down? We don't have to do that, though!" He quickly reassured everyone, not wanting to seem bossy. He very much did not want to go back and find Archebold, though, so he began the effort by leaning against the wall and pushing with his shoulder and elbow.


Samuel
Another little nothing-ever-after, Nothing more



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