Mokley — Roleplayer Guild

The first time you saw the Stone, it was kind of pretty, wasn't it? The towers looked like they were growing out of the rocks, the trees were thick and green all around, and billows of steam made the whole thing look like it was floating in the clouds. You almost wouldn't believe it was a place people were sent to die.

The moment you stepped through the doors was like walking into the biggest cathedral you've ever seen: vaulted ceilings high as the sky, statues carved into the walls, the expanse of the mosaic floor. A stream from outside flowed right into those rumbling boilers and powered gears that ticked and clacked at the far side; you could hear steam hissing in the pipes like roots in the pigeonhole walls full of coffins and narrow walkways. It was all echoes.

It was nice, for the last thing you'd ever see.

You awoke in silent, claustrophobic darkness.

The lid of your coffin was loose; fresh air could be had with little effort, and you could clear your lungs of the noxious gas that had put you to sleep. Your escape from the pigeonhole slot would prove more difficult, but not impossible.

Narrow, cracked walkways spanned the length of the room beneath each of the twelve rows of coffins. The walkways were only reachable by a single gated elevator, which rested on the ground and was overgrown by lichen and weeds.

The mosaic floor was rippled and split by roots and sapling trees. The copper pipes had turned green like decaying vines. The stream still flowed into the churning boiler, and the gears still turned and groaned. Jagged holes in the ceiling let in the rain and gray stormy light, and the room echoed softly with the drone of machines, the hiss of steam, the drip of water.

From within a hollow corridor, a woman was singing.

The heavy doors had been left wide open, their hinges rusted away. The drawbridge outside was nothing but a shattered ruin of metal and a few broken boards. Beyond it, the road to civilization was gone.

The Witch perched on a stool and sipped without tasting; her lined eyes watched Artemis, but her thoughts were deep in some memory. Only when Artemis had seemed to compose herself did the Witch lean forward and turn a knob on a broken lamp on the table. A little flame flickered to life within the sharded glass dome, and they had a light less ominous than the red of the Lantern to see by.

"Normally I would tell you that you're screwed," the Witch said honestly. "The Pirates that live here have been taught since birth how and when to use the iron and runes, and the Kith have their masks and magic. Without years of training you're more likely to fall down a shadow gulch tomorrow than to survive the next moon-cycle. But. That Lantern." In the silence that followed, the Witch stared into the fiery glow of the Lantern, uncertain whether it could be trusted not to burn the house down around her. She stirred her tea.

"I can't be sure because all I have are books and stories, but I believe the Lantern that summoned you should have a special bond with you." With a knotty finger she gestured at Artemis' heart. "You woke up at a clockwork tree, didn't you? The minute you took that thing down from the regulator, its power increased tenfold. Dangerous for us, but it's probably the only reason you're alive now, isn't it?" She took a swig of tea to give herself more time to consider her words.

Outside, something distant flashed blue and white. A moment later, a soft rumble echoed on the mountain. There was lightning out on the lake.

The Witch's mouth pressed to a thin line, and she made a decision. "Take a good look inside that Lantern." The iron casing of the Lantern was covered in little engraved runes, and the craftsmanship seemed impressive enough that it would not break unless by considerable force. Within the iron cage was a glass casing, and within the glass was an egg. It was glowing red from deep within the thick shell.

"What you're holding is the power of the Dragon. Well, one of the powers anyway. We used to think it was a myth until not long ago, when the Lanterns started glowing again. You --" The Witch's eyes narrowed, and she grinned. "Well let me tell you a story." This was a story she never got to tell -- everyone everywhere already knew it -- and the opportunity filled the Witch with a new energy. She sat forward, and her wrinkled hands gestured in the air as she spoke, illuminated by the Lantern and the lamplight.

"It was centuries ago when the first Pirates and their ship were transported here from who-knows-where. Like yourself, I imagine. There was daylight, then. A regular cycle of night and sunlight, if you can imagine that. So those pirates went looking for a way to get themselves back home, and they made friends with the Kith. Now, those Kith told the pirates there was a Dragon in a cave under the mountain that had the power to send them home. Sure enough, those pirates found and broke the seal they found down there, and what they released was something horrific."

While she spoke, the Witch had grabbed a book from the pile on the floor and had flipped through it. She handed the book to Artemis, open to a drawing of an enormous, hideous black beast with bat-wings and scythed teeth, with a tiny mountain drawn at the bottom for scale.

"That's when the sky went dark for good." The Witch's voice was grim. "That's when the forest turned into a slaughterhouse, the trees started moving on their own, and the gentlest critters turned to horrors. The pirates had set loose a nightmare, and they decided they'd put things right again. It took years, but they managed to split the Dragon's power into five parts, and sealed those up tight, and put them up in the regulator trees to keep their power drained. The sky and the forest didn't go back to normal like they'd hoped, but it was enough to make sure it wouldn't get worse. That was centuries ago, and since then we've been surviving well enough. The Dragon and the trees and all that have become a sort of legend that some people stopped believing. But a few years ago, the Lanterns started glowing again.

"I've been analyzing this one in particular. There's a tiny rift to another world inside that egg, and it's been sending its creeping tendrils out through that rift and sucking life energy out of it. If I were to guess, it's been draining the life out of people in other worlds -- probably yours -- until it had enough energy to summon you here. I can only assume the other four Lanterns have been doing the same. I've tried everything, but I couldn't stop it." The Witch set her jaw and glared at the book. "It's that Dragon, trying to put itself together again. It knows the Kith can't touch the Lanterns, and the Pirates would have nothing to do with it, so it's brought in outsiders who might be tricked into setting it free, like our ancestors did. History repeats itself, as the saying goes."

After a moment, she hefted herself to the floor and shuffled across the destroyed room to a closet. "It all still seems too wild to believe, like some kind of fairy tale. I had a hard time believing it, myself. But as long as you keep that Lantern with you, the Dragon can't be summoned and we'll all be safer for it." Inside, the closet was jammed with iron and leather armor and clothing and helmets and weapons -- things offered to the Witch in exchange for her enchanting services. She rummaged among them, yanked out a sturdy pair of boots and several sets of rune-engraved armor that seemed like they might fit Artemis.

"But you said you saw that girl who's running around with the blue Lantern. I know for a fact that she's under the Dragon's influence, trying to collect the Lanterns and summon that nightmare. That means she'll be after you. And that Lantern she's got is the nastiest one of all. I'd like to say I can protect you, but I obviously can't even protect myself." She gestured angrily at her broken house. "But come over here and pick some armor and a weapon, at least. It's all in good enough condition, and I can enchant it with whatever you want, within reason. Once I've restocked my power source."

She leaned back on her heels and looked back at Artemis, struck by a thought. She gestured toward the rabbit mask at Artemis' hip. "I won't ask how you got that mask, but can you use it?"

The pirate's posture changed slightly, completely surprised by Anise's enthusiasm at having nearly been killed -- but possibly more shocked at witnessing the voluntary removal of a Kith mask. He tipped back his helmet to get a better look at her in the light of the Lantern, but kept his sparking sword pointed at her.

"Yer dressed like a parade dancer with a death wish," he told her, bewildered at what to do with her. "You're Kith, aren't you?" The fact that she was clinging to the iron-cased Lantern was the most startling thing, now that he'd had time to think about it. The Kith couldn't touch iron without writing in pain.

Behind him, a sudden snarl, a hideous choking noise and a flash of wings and black fur turned the pirate's attention. Reus had suddenly attacked the gryphon out of the shadows, and the two equally matched beasts had begun ferociously tearing each other apart with ugly sounds of snapping and screeching and scraping and bones slamming against the deck. Feathers and fur and teeth and claws spun together in a ferocious storm of deadly intention. The railing snapped and splashed in the lake below.

"Shit!" The pirate forgot Anise and ran to the scene; he couldn't use the lightning without hitting his gryphon, but he had every intention of slicing the enormous wolf to pieces.

Mokley Member

aka windyfiend

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