Mokley — Roleplayer Guild

"What is this place for? I've seen many machines in my life, but nothing this... large. Is it connected to the Stone?" Now that she thought of it, aside from knowing it to serve as a prison she had no knowledge about the Stone itself. If she was going to make it now, she would have to learn as much as she could.

For awhile, he did not move. Gears ticked and whirred all around; water dripped into the pool far below.

Finally he raised his head, and he clambered onto the railing to peer down at her. It was impossible to tell his age -- his skin was smooth and pale from so long spent underwater -- but long, stitched surgical scars lined his bony torso. His eyes were fogged glass.

"Keep the Gods asleep," he spoke in a croaking voice. "The Singer sings, but not enough. Amplification is necessary. Machinery powered by sleeping imprisoned, converted energy siphoned to the Singer, the Gods sleep. The Gods slept." He rocked gently. "You're --"

And then the world around Rose turned to chaos. She unleashed the power the god had given her, all of it, the profound power of the god that held dominion over natural disasters. Lightning rained down in volleys, the ground shook and cracked and split, wind gusted, bending the trees, threatening the roots that had been dug into the ground over the course of hundreds of years.

Lightning crashed and shattered Rain's eardums; the man jumped and raised his arm against the blinding flashes of light, and the gears groaned and twisted and snapped and convulsed under the force of a sudden earthquake. What remained of the walls of the Stone were falling in on top of them. A boulder of cement barely missed crushing Rain, and instead slammed into the gear she was standing on; the gear cracked and tilted suddenly while a cascade of chaos ripped apart the last shreds of mechanical order around her.

The space wasn't extravagant, but Grace was only just learning to use her new strength. Decades of sculpture carving had helped her visualize the effect, but she was still amazed that not only stone, but all that belonged to the deep responded to her call.

Nor stepped silently, uncertainly, around the little alcove of safety that Grace had made, her hands clasped at her chest. The walls boomed, and she looked up suddenly as fissures of rock showered them with dust and grit.

Grace could feel the twisting pain of the caverns; distantly, a cave-in crushed a long passage, the well and the statue crumpled at the bottom of a new sinkhole, a sizable side of the mountain itself had crashed into the valley below. The Stone was demolished.

The swath of destruction wouldn't reach them here, so far below the surface, but it was clear that all that awaited them outside was a ruin of the last trace of civilization.

"Will you live here?" Nor asked, after the rumble and crash outside had gone. She surveyed the room again, the moss beds and the water basin. They were like a new home. There was, after all, nowhere to go. Her eyes moved to Grace, and then to the curious arm that she had felt too solid when she had been carried. "Who are you, really?"

The little bird that had followed them through the caverns began to make a racket against the stone wall; it fluttered and scratched at the stone, chirping and squeaking while feathers beat against the rock.

The God of the Caverns rested, quiet unless Grace had need of it. The attack upon the caves was nothing of concern -- there would be more passages, there would be more rock. Grace's presence anchored its power, and it was content.

And then, everything stopped.

Gears creaked and strained brokenly. Pieces of stone and mortar clinked on the brass and copper as the sky cleared. The man floated face-down in the water below, his long braid floating beside him. A long gash split his back, but there was no blood or bone -- only coppery metal beneath the skin.

So she would run, hide, she had taken a turn at being the God's emissary and decided she was done. She let herself fall to the ground, and ran for the protection of the Stone- she was sure Lha'tak wouldn't be far behind.

Where the garden and the well had been was now a gaping sinkhole, dark and cold. Where Nor had spent decades singing her song was now only a desolate expanse of rubble and root-stripped trees.

The Stone was a broken shell of the majesty it once had been; it was the very picture of a decrepit ruin, darkened by rain and scorched by lightning. The entirety of the floor had fallen through and shattered the crumpled gears and springs below. A few ladders and catwalks had survived, making it possible to climb down among the gears.

Across the chasm of machinery, Rigby stood with eyes that glowed in the same way as those of the God of Dreams that stood beside him in the guise of a great owl. He spotted Rose running for the ruined Stone, and he grinned wide -- but he said nothing.

The bloody rune in Rose's chest seared with pain. Thunder rumbled overhead, and lights flashed behind dark clouds. Rain poured down on top of Rose's head, and nowhere else, soaking her to the bone.

Lha'tak was not angry. It merely perceived Rose as a pet that must be disciplined and trained, no matter how long or how far she ran.
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aka windyfiend

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