| Logs |
2008 November 02
| When The Bough Breaks |
| Realms |
Retired
| Reality Fault |
General Info
 |
| Realms: Bough Logs |
First Movement, Fifth Verse
Jareth and Tomas awaken from a nap they hadn't realized they'd taken. This must have been the slight discontinuity that Norris had experienced that time in the forest, when his 'waking self' was briefly restless in their sleep. But now they're fully awake and alert. And they find that Norris and Mikal are up and awake and have apparently been busy... if the utterly gigantic stag hovering around Mikal is any indicator.
The foresters' lodge is once again fairly quiet, with foresters ghosting in and out almost at random, on some errand or another.
Tomas says, "Where did the deer come from?""
Jareth murmurs, "I was wondering that myself."
Norris grins. "Mikal's a master hunter." he boasts. "An she can think up nifty clothes."
Mikal is chattering excitedly to Norris about parchments and plants and edible animals, but at Tomas' words she looks over. She brightens at sight of the other two, flying over to gleefully hug Jareth, "Jareth! Tomas! Look look look what Nor and I found isn't he handsome his name is Iron Antlers he's a new friend he's a fay-stag isn't he amazing?!"
Mikal, when excited, tends to sound much like a river of words all run together!
The big stag with the baroque rack appears to be, for the time being at least, quite aloof.
Tomas examines the stag suspiciously. "What's a fay-stag?"
Jareth blinks down at Mikale, but then grins widely and hugs her back. He tips his head back and looks at the enormous animal, "Greetings to you. Yes, Mikal, he's amazing."
Norris opens his mouth to explain, and then looks at Mikal. "What *is* fae-stag, Mikal?" he queries, realizing he'd never asked.
Mikal is also, as Norris noted, much differently dressed now! She beams at Jareth's agreement with her assessment, then nearly bounces over to Tomas, "I'm not entirely sure Tomas but I can hear him sort of in my head but not the same as Raphael just sort of?" She reaches up to pet the stag's broad nose, crooning happily, "Who's the handsome boy then, yes?"
Tomas grunt, "Och aye." He looks over the new clothes, making sure they are practical for what lies ahead. "And where in the name of the One did you find new clothes out here?"
Jareth explains, "She made them."
Mikal blinks at Tomas's rather curt tone, much of her ebullience falling away from her, "I, um, I, I... th-thought them up? Why?" She looks down at herself, confusedly adding, "I, is s-something wrong with them?"
Tomas looks around. "How long were we asleep?" He adds, "Thought them up? Is this something your learned here?"
Mikal blinks at Tomas, then cautiously takes a step backwards, behind the huge stag.
Norris considers. "Nae really sure it was taught...Armaros just said we could be doin it...an they tried at, annit worked. Fer tea and feathers. Mikal jus took it one step further, hey?"
Tomas tries to moderate his tone. His natural sense of responsibility for the younger members of the group has weighed him down a bit. He says, " I wish someone had told me about this before hand." Then he shakes his head at Mikal. "Nay, lass, nothing's wrong. Things are just happening too fast for my liking."
Norris grimaces as he sees the tension take place. "Well, we didn'a really stop an compare brands, now, did we? It's no harm, it's relatively harmless...ah mean, clothes and tea annat. Haven't tried making dangerous thing."
Mikal's light boots are now knee-high and laced up the front, with fur lining and embroidery across the toes and up the outer sides of the legs. Her woolen pants are warmly lined, with more pretty embroidery in a colorful nature pattern in a strip up the outside seam. Her padded, sleeveless leather jerkin is warm and thick and practical, reaching to mid-thigh and belted snugly about her waist, while her woolen shirt is the same design as her pants: warm, lined, and similarly embroidered, gathered at the wrists and the high collar.
Mikal's outer cloak is thick and fur-lined, with a hood she can pull close with the drawstring, while her fur-lined gauntlets reach to mid-forearm and are cleverly designed so she can pull off the outer mitts to bare her fingers and use her bow easily. The overall color scheme is well suited to winterwear: mostly white with a few grays and blacks mottled in.
Mikal's small voice trails out uncertainly from behind the unconcernedly grazing fay-stag, "I, I -- sorry? I d-didn't know it'd w-work -- that's why I d-d-didn't say anything!"
Mikal whispers, "Norris! Here -- I got you a nice fur-lined cap f-from the f-foresters!" She tosses it towards the big young man once she has his attention. She doesn't really want to come out from behind Iron Antlers yet.
Tomas trying to sound a little more cheerful, Tomas says. "At least they are practical clothes."
Jareth reaches to put his hand on Tomas' shoulder, chuckling, "I wouldn't be after expecting things to make sense here. It's sort of terrifying and amazing all at once." He's concerned the watchman might be having problems.
Norris beams at Mikal, trying to help leaven the tension. "Preciate that, MIkal. Mah ears was gettin a lil cold. An ah gots some big ears, so that wouldn't be too comfy after a whiles." He puts it on right there.
Mikal giggles quietly, leaning against the fey-stag's shoulder and covering her mouth. She glances around, then decides she'll be safest up on the fay-stag's back. She swarms up his side, settling happily into place on his back, then pats one shoulder with a sigh of relief. Surely nothing could harm her here! With increased confidence, she adds, "Umm... so, um, so, shall we go f-find that, um... you know, the tower? We were g-going to go to it?"
Tomas is worried, a little scared, concerned about the rest of the group, and a little overwhelmed by what is going on.
Norris stands and grabs his maul. "Now that we's all awake, ah spect there's no time lak th' present, hey? Sooner we do the favor for her Ladyship, sooner we kin start gettin comfertable in this new world."
Jareth seems relieved about something and pats Tomas on the shoulder. He then pretends to pout up at Mikal, "No gifts for us?" He moves over toward the stag, moving carefully as he can.
Tomas says, "Ok, Mikal, lead the way."
Mikal blinks down at Jareth from her high perch, "Oh! I, um, I'm sorry, I di- er... w-what did you want?"
The goatherd grins up at his friend on the stag, "Your new friend is fantastic, Mikal. And I was just teasing."
Mikal adds shyly, "Um, T-tomas, y-you might want to change clothes first? I m-mean, just if you w-want... to be more warm, since it's s-snowing?"
Mikal brightens at that, her voice more animated, "Isn't he though?" She pats the fay-stag's shoulder happily again, then adds more seriously, "Y-you might want to put on warm clothes too, J-jareth?"
Norris gives this dubious look to Jareth's back. And sounds relieved when Jareth doesn't say what Norris was worrying.
Tomas looks outside. "Snowing? Name of the wee man!! What Next!" He looks around for a cloak or something to wear.
Jareth laughs, "I would if I could, Mikal..." he trails off and wonders for a moment, "Maybe I can."
Mikal beams at Jareth, "Of course you can! If I can, I bet you all can!" She brightens even more then, "Oh! Yes, I do have p-presents!" She pulls her backpack around to in front of her, rustling around in it, "Where'd you go..."
Mikal triumphantly produces a small leather scroll-tube from her backpack, "Aha! Here you are!" She beams at the others, "Isn't this neat? Delling the forester gave it to me, so we know some of the more significant things to watch out for. They give them to all their trainees going out into the wildy parts for the first time." She's unrolling a heavy cloth-like parchment from the tube as she speaks, then holds it out so Jareth can see it. "See? Pictures of everything we can eat, that we should watch out for, that will be scared of us, and that might hurt us. Pretty nice of Delling, don't you think?"
Norris watches the stag a bit, absently hoping that Mikal has him under control...animals can be skittish, and they might pick up on this and further tension. He makes a point to remember to ask Mikal later.
Tomas says, "That's useful. Hang on to it, Mikal, you're the best to make use of it. Let's get moving."
Norris nods agreeably, hanging his maul in the baldric a friend made for him, and tugs his hat down, grinning at this friend. "Come on. We's get to see if the sky is yella when it rains yella." The concept seems to make sense to him.
The scroll is made of a heavy fabric vellum and instead of rows of words it is covered with pictures. There are red marks next to the things Mikal says they should avoid, and blue marks next to the things that are edible or can be used beneficially. Mikal looks pleased at Tomas's comment, "All right!" as she starts carefully rolling the scroll back up. She murmurs encouragingly to the big stag, who obligingly raises his head from grazing and starts striding relaxedly eastward. Mikal scrambles around on the stag's back so she's sort of sprawled across his rump and looking back towards the others. She giggles at Norris's comment, then adds to Tomas, "Really, T-tomas, all you have to d-do is close your eyes and imagine the c-c-clothes you want, you know?"
Tomas tries to get people moving. "Sooner started, sooner done, as my uncle would say."
Tomas closes his eyes and imagine a heavy cloak.
A moment later Tomas can feel his shoulders weighted down by the presence of a heavy, warm cloak that sheds the snowflakes readily.
Raphael gives a relieved snort as everyone finally gets moving, and disappears into the underbrush, scouting ahead.
Mikal beams, sitting up and pointing, "There, see? Tomas got a new cloak!"
Jareth closes his eyes and forms the image of warm clothes for himself. The ones Mikal was wearing looked nice, so he models them somewhat off hers. Knee-high boots in well-oiled leather with fur linings, sturdy leather pants and a parka-like jacket that goes most of the way down his thighs. The hood is lined with black fur and he has heavy woolen mittens on as well as a scart to wrap over the lower part of his face if the need comes up.
Not terribly long after he starts to envision it, Jareth can feel the changes to his clothing, and he's already feeling warmer.
Tomas puts the cloak on and draws it close.
Jareth clomps off after Mikal, grinning at her. He's still got the knife Norris created for him on the night that he broke his trying to open a window.
Mikal grins delightedly at Jareth's clothing, watching it for a bit... then she squirms back around on the stag's back so she's facing forward again, "All right, you guys just keep going -- me and Raphael and Iron Antlers will scout about and make sure everything's good!" She leans along the fey-stag's neck, whispering to him... and they too soon vanish into the underbrush.
Tomas follows, looking around carefully.
The trip through the forest to the tower is a quiet one, but before very long the group breaks through the foliage to see the wall stretching out to either side of them. Ahead of them is a gypsum tower that is set up against the wall, obviously not a part of the wall itself but having been made later on. It reaches just above the wall, which seems to be about fifty meters up. The top of the tower is circular, ringed with battlements.
And the tower seems surrounded by a hazy orange fog, with rain pelting the ground. Keeping a careful distance away is what looks like a small company of elves, mixed ljosalfar and dokkalfar, keeping a watch and keeping away from the nether-squall.
The fey-stag canters easily over to the group, with Mikal waving a bit nervously, "Er, he-hello!"
Mikal whispers indignantly to the stag, "Let Jareth go first! He's better at talking!"
Norris blinks dubiously at the fog that seems to migrate only around the tower. "Ennyone know iffn weather does that? Ah mean, jus stay in one place a long time without spreadin' out?" he queries to the group.
Jareth trots up and past the stag, tugging down his scarf so they can see his smile and he waves hello, calling out a greeting. "Nasty weather, isn't it?"
Tomas nudges Norris. "I think what we knew about how things worked doesn't hold true anymore."
Mikal suddenly remembers she doesn't have to stay on the huge stag! She gets ready to slide off -- then freezes, her mittened hands clutched in his heavy mane as she stares dubiously way far down at the ground moving by so quickly! Urgently she whispers, "Stop, Iron Antlers! I want down, please!"
At Mikal's hail, the nearest group of soldiers looks over. A couple come over, one of them with a rather grandeose bronze crest on his enameled helm. "Indeed," the officer says, glancing back to the nether-squall. "Blasted 'squalls. Are you the folks Rowan said she would send by to check on the tower guards?"
Mikal slides off the stag with a sigh of relief when he obligingly slows -- then decides to stay prudently behind him and her friends.
Mikal nods to Tomas in silent agreement.
"I certainly hope so. Unless she's in the habit of sending multiple people for one task." He offers his hand to the elf, "Name's Jareth."
The officer nods. "No, she doesn't do that." He extends his hand. "Captain Tyrsson. This is my adjutant, Sergeant Feysdottir." The dokkalfar nods her head politely. "We were sent here to keep an eye on the tower and secure it when the squall subsides, but it's already been a while. Seneschal Rowan got really concerned that the guards were already overdue on checking in when this squall sprung up."
The entrance to the towers appears to be a pair of large oaken doors, cunningly made with oaken pins rather than iron fittings.
Mikal peeks under the fey-stag's barrel to watch Jareth talking with the soldiers -- she's quite relieved they're taking Iron Antlers in stride! It makes her nervous when strangers all focus on her. It's as she's thinking that, that it hits her: the soldiers are sure being awful polite and respectful to what are, effectively, complete strangers! She muses confusedly over that as she watches intently.
Tomas looks to check out the path to the door.
Tomas asks Jareth to find out if there have been any noises coming from the tower, other than those from the squall.
Tomas does this in a whisper to Jareth.
Tyrsson says, "If you can give me the current pass-phrase for the tower I'll be glad to let you in. I'm rather worried. We've not seen anyone in the windows or battlements, and nobody has answered our hails.
Jareth nods minutely to Tomas and turns to Tyrsson, "Has there been much noise from the tower? I mean, other than the big squalling storm?"
Tyrrson glances to Feysdottir who shakes her head. "No," she replies. "No sounds at all that we could hear."
Mikal blinks, straightening cautiously and peering even more warily from behind Iron Antlers. She's silently observing a distant tree, trying to figure out if she's actually seeing what she thinks she sees. To Raphael she murmurs, [Raph, way over thattaway against the sky -- do you see what looks like someone up in one of the trees there? In the upper branches. Looks like he's got pale hair and a long black cloak on -- and he's watching us?]
Norris is looking around quietly as Jareth engages with the elves...and then he stiffens slightly. Casually walking over the stag, he tugs lightly on Mikal's cloak. "We're being watched. D'ye see?" he whispers. Yes, the boy can be tactful
Mikal jumps and squeaks startledly at Norris! -then whews, leaning back against the big fey-stag. "Gracious! Don't scare me like that, Nor!" She takes her hand off her dagger, then thinks a moment about what her friend had just said... then she nods excitedly, "You see it too? It's not just me?"
Jareth raises his brows at the question about the passphrase. He looks over his shoulder at his companions, "Was I paying too much attention to the map?"
Raphael replies, after a bit, that he thinks he can see the person as well.
Norris grimaces, not meaning to startle his friend. "Ah wuz tyin' t' be subtle about it...doan look back at 'im. Mebbe he won't run aways."
Tomas tries to remeber the phrase.
Tomas tells them the passphrase
Mikal grabs Norris's arm, murmuring, "Maybe we should t-tell the g-g-g- maybe you should tell the guards about the watcher?"
Jareth holds up a ring of keys as well, "And we've got keys, too." He's still grinning. This is a grand adventure to him. Just like something out of a bard's stories.
Tyrsson nods. "Excellent. Thank you. Please let us know whatever you find in there. I've an ill feeling about this, I'm afraid. And not just because of the nether squall."
Norris Nods slightly. "Ye aready got Raph takin' a closer look? Keep contact wi' him." he suggests, stepping up to Tyrsson and Jareth casually.
Mikal tugs urgently on Norris's sleeve, looking worried, "A-and ask them t-to let Iron Antlers to s-stay too, p-p-please?"
Jareth glances toward Norris and smiles, "They're ready for us to head on in."
Mikal slips silently into the underbrush, following Raphael according to Norris's instructions.
Norris smiles casually. "That's good news, hey? Oh...mah friend here wuz wantin to make sure you don't scare off her new antlered friend, 'ere, whiles we go in..." he says loudly, gesturing to the stag grandly, before turning back and tugging at his cap. "There's also a feller what's got pale hair spyin on us up inna tree. He wunna yourn?" he says much quieter.
Tyrsson mms? and looks around, then spots the person. "Oh," he says quietly. "That would be Raven," he says, almost whispering. "The Throne of Death. We spotted her when we arrived here. That's the other reason why we've an ill feeling about the tower."
Tomas says, "The throne of death? Is she planning to kill us?"
Jareth blinks slowly, "Is she dangerous?" He doesn't look over his shoulder, not wanting to make it obvious that they've noticed Raven.
Norris blinks, and looks back at Tomas. "Naw...ah think the throne o' death is th' one that escorts folk t' the afterlife?" He looks at Tyrsson for confirmation.
Tyrsson shakes his head. "She doesn't do the killing. She's a psychopomp. She's there when a mortal is skilled. She wouldn't be here for you, though. She's been here, like I said, since before we've been here."
Jareth says, "So... like an escort?"
There's a small, frightened squeak from the underbrush, and a moment later Mikal has hastily shifted back with Raphael so the group of soldiers are between her, her half-brother, and the scary Death entity.
Tyrsson nods, starting to say something when they hear that squeek, and he looks around wondering where that sound came from. "Ah, yes," he says finally. "An escort for the soul to Sheol."
Tomas asks carefully, "Sheol is a bad place, is it no"
Tyrsson lifts his shoulders a bit. "I wouldn't say 'bad' but I'm not likely to ever go there myself. It's the mortal afterlife."
Tomas says, "Well, she doesn't look likely to do any harm any time soon, so let's get to the tower."
Norris nods thoughtfully. And figures there's no reason to be sneaking up on the Throne, so he calls out. "Mikal! Come join us, sneaky girl, we's got a date with a tower." He looks at Tyrsson. "Doan ferget about th' stag. Mikal's taken wi' the fella."
Tyrsson nods, looking favorably upon the stag. "We'll make sure nothing bad happens to him."
Mikal gives the dark-cloaked figure a dubious look, then remembers the comment that the strange immortals can't enter the nether-squalls. She darts forward out of the underbrush, calling, "Coming! Me 'n Raph are ready!" She pats the fey-stag hastily, pausing for a hug about his big head as she whispers, "Be careful! We'll be back soon!" and then she dashes for the tower.
Tomas mutters, "I hope."
Crossing the orange rain, the nethersquall, makes the group feel absolutely nothing unusual, except slightly damp upon their shoulders and heads. The rain is neither pleasant nor unpleasant, but it's odd color is certainly a turnoff. After several yards' walk through the localized squall, the group comes upon the oaken doors. readily.
Norris nudges Jareth. "Break out th' keys, Jar." he drawls.
Jareth can't resist licking some of the raindrops off his mittens, curious if it tastes like something different.
Tomas rolls his eyes when he sees this.
It tastes like water, though that isn't saying much. It seems, if anything, to evaporate or dry off fairly quickly, certainly quicker than normal water.
Mikal trots hastily forward to the doors, relaxing once she's well within the nether squall. One hand resting on Raphael's powerful shoulders, she peers outwards towards where she'd last seen Raven, wondering if the immortal is still there.
The Throne is still there, distant and unmoving.
The lacquered, laminated bronze lock clacks open, and the double doors swing outward smoothly on wooden hinges.
Norris waits quietly, unslinging his maul. His brow creases, as it always does whenever he's chasing a thought. The one that escorts the dead is here...and is seemingly just as stymied by the fog. He hopes it's just curiosity...and not that all the guards in the tower are dead.
Tomas says, "Here's the plan. I go in first, followed by Mikal with her bow ready. The raptor wolf stays near her, and Jareth follows them. Norris brings up the rear."
Mikal slides hastily into the tower, tugging Raphael worriedly in with her. She puts her back to a wall, glancing around nervously and waiting for Jareth to close the door again, so the Death thing can't get at them.
Mikal has her bow to hand, following Tomas' instructions.
Norris nods to the older Tomas...he's the more experienced one, so he trusts his call to lead the charge, as it were.
Tomas steps in through the door and moves about a yard into the room. He looks around while waiting for everyone to get in.
Jareth nods to Tomas and pulls the door closed behind the watchman. He checks to see if they can lock the door from inside.
The door closes with a heavy thud; Jareth finds that it can indeed be locked from inside.
Once the door is closed, there is very little sound. It is dry inside, and warm, but also remarkably quiet. There should be about half a dozen to a dozen soldiers here. And there's not a sound of any of them.
Mikal whispers softly, "Can we call for them?"
Tomas shrugs off his cloak and rolls it into a convenient blanket roll.
Tomas says, "Not yet. Let's look around some. Calling might attract unwanted attention."
Tomas thinks "Though that door was pretty loud."
Norris says, "Nae as loud assa door that size wi' metal hinges. But ye make a good point. Still, doan seem t' be no sound o' movement."
Norris gestures to the doors ahead. "At's th' only ways t' go, might as well use em."
Norris does take his hat off, though, to make it easier to hear. Plus, it's wet.
Mikal blinks a bit surprisedly, then whispers, "Hey, everyone... the lanterns are still lit! Do you suppose they're magical or something?" She's got an arrow nocked, with two others ready to hand, and she's already starting to prowl silently forward, once again in monster-hunting mode.
Raphael has his head down, sniffing carefully around.
Norris says, "Wouldn'a surprise me. What with no iron in th' hinges."
The room appears to be a simple entry foyer, where visitors or guests or the incoming guard shift can be checked out without being given run of the tower. There is another set of double-doors opposite the doors the group came in.
Tomas goes up to the other set of doors, and opens the one on the right. He steps though and steps to his right, giving Mikal a clear line of fire. He looks around.
Mikal slips up silently behind Tomas, her arrow point following her line of sight as she carefully peers around the larger man.
Norris watches everyone all tense with expectation. He has his hammer unslung, and he feels so oddly calm about all of this. But he quietly guards the group's rear as we move nito the rest of the tower.
Jareth follows Mikal, keeping his place in the marching order as best he can, moving as quietly and cautiously as he can. Which, in Jareth's case, is pretty darn cautiously and quietly.
Raphael slips into the room and, if nothing is immediately visible there, he starts pragmatically sniffing around.
The next room in that Norris is in, has wooden walls, not stone, and is somewhat more pleasant with the scent of hay strewn on the floor. He also spots, to the left, a pile of clothing sprawled on the floor. It's a simple breastplate and some leggings and tunic, sandals and a cloak, but they're in similar colors and style to that of the soldiers outside.
Mikal murmurs quietly, "Something on the left there," as she moves swiftly and quietly into the room, to give herself a better angle of fire.
Tomas looks to the left.
Jareth glances over at Mikal's comment and his eyes widen. He whistles through his teeth, "That might explain Raven."
Tomas carefully goes up to the armor and, using the butt end of his pole axe, starts pushing things around, looking for evidence of the body that wore it.
Norris marvels a little at the breastplate...they don't tend to have enough metal in the village to have many breastplastes of any kind. Fortunately, he hadn't gotten training from anyone on how to put on and move in the heavier armor. Not that he couldn't deal with it if he had it. But he wouldn't want the temptation to rob the dead. He grimaces...he's already assumed everyone here is dead. He hates thinking that.
Tomas does not see evidence of a body... but Norris, in his observation of the breastplate, does see what looks like some sort of scratching on it, not unlike combat damage.
Mikal is perplexed -- the armor and clothing look like the body within it just vanished! That's impossible, as far as she knows.
Norris crouches, then, as he realizes the armor is damaged. He fingers it, trying to determine what might have caused it...
Norris marvels over the ornate design of the armor even as he studies it: it looks like a scale lamellar made with white-enameled and lacquered bronze scales. Similar to the breastplates worn by the soldiers outside. He can't help but home someday he makes something this fine. "Definitely an attack. By sommat harder'n bronze. Cut into t' armor here, here, an here." he reports to the others.
EDIT:home -> hope
Tomas says, "someone had a good sword, well crafted iron or maybe even steel."
Mikal lowers her bow and tiptoes forward, resting a hand on Norris's shoulder as she looks. "B-but... how could that have killed him? Shouldn't there b-be blood?"
Norris looks up at Tomas. "Prolly not forged thunder, tho. Leastways, ah hope not."
Norris shakes his head. "Said there was an attack, Mikal. Not that th' blade killed him. If it did, it didn'a punch through th' armor."
Jareth thinks for a moment and says, "Wonder if he woke up..."
Mikal nods silently, then drifts off to examine the rest of the room.
Finding nothing, Tomas looks around once more. If he doesn't see anything, he will start setting up for the next room.
Mikal taps lightly on the rightmost door, glancing inquiringly at Tomas.
Norris gets up. "Nothin more t' be found out...should be movin on, ah bet. Th' armor ain't goin nowheres."
Tomas says, "Not yet, Mikal, let's get set up first."
Mikal steps back and waits patiently. Raphael sits next to her, panting softly.
Tomas points to the door on the left. "Jareth, you guard that door while we open the other. I'll go in first, with Mikal covering me with her bow, and Norris and Raphael follow me.
Mikal draws back her arrow and nods, stepping to a good angle to see past Tomas. Raphael lines up next to the door so he can slink in quickly.
Jareth arches his brows at the thought of him being a guard, but does go stand by the door, knife in his hand.
Norris nods, hefting his hammer, preparing to move as quickly as he can when Tomas tells him. Fortunately, the place was built for elves...and elves appear to be around his height! No ducking under doorways.
Tomas opens the door, steps through and moves to the right.
Raphael slides left in a gliding crouch, sniffing alertly. Mikal murmurs, "Stay to the left, Nor," as she steps closer to the door, glancing warily into the room with bow drawn.
The next room over is more of a hallway. To the left it leads to a stone wall, with a door in the same wall that Tomas emerges from. The opposite wall has three doors; all are currently closed. To the right the corridor ends in a large room that has a stairwell leading up to the next floor. There is another sprawl of armor and clothes on the floor of the room.
Tomas checks out the armor to see if it is similar to the other set.
Tomas also checks for any remains.
To Tomas's eye, it's similar: no body present. It's sprawled as if it had been in a struggle.
Norris moves in behind Tomas, and out of the way of the arror. He grimaces at the armor. "Just clothes an no bodies's more disturbin than iffn we found corpses."
Raphael settles into a relaxed sit by the door in the stone wall, keeping a wary eye on the other three doors as well. Mikal stands in the doorway so she can cover either Jareth, or the others.
Tomas says, "Maybe these people poof when they die."
Norris checks the stairs as he waits for Tomas to be done...there's apparently personal quarters to check the way the doors are set up.
Tomas signals Jareth and Mikal into the hallway. "Keep your eyes on the stairs, Norris. We need to check the three doors first."
Jareth slides into the next room, trying to stay alert.
Norris nods agreeably. He can do that, and keeps his ears perked.
Mikal waits until Jareth is in with them, then she checks to see if the door locks if she closes it. She'd like a bit of noise if anyone tries to follow.
Tomas says, "Keep your eyes peeled."
Tomas moves to the first door and listens at the door.
The door does not lock when closed, but there is a wooden latch that closes with a satisfying thunk.
Meanwhile, the door Tomas listens to has no sound on the other side of it.
Mikal sighs, relaxing a bit, then steps forward and goes to cover Tomas again, like before.
Norris says, "Never did unnner stand that turn o' phrase. Why woul' anyone peel their eyes....wait."
Tomas opens the door and moves in and to the right.
Norris says, "Jareth, check the armor on the floor? There's sommat bronze jewlery on this wun. And what look like might be writ'in."
Jareth crouches, carefully sheathing his knife and looking through the odd pile of clothes, looking at the jewelry curiously.
The room Tomas enters looks like a bunk room, with a pair of beds and footlockers. The bunks are neat and tidy, but the room is otherwise empty.
Tomas opens the footlockers, one at a time starting from the right.
Jareth hakes his head and turns the necklace over and over in his hands. He sighs, sounding maybe a little frustrated, "They're a little strange. Maybe a talisman of some kind."
Both footlockers have clothes in them, neatly folded, along with a few other sundries and toiletries. They aren't identical, but they're similar enough to suggest military service.
Tomas moves on to the next door.
Mikal glances over at Jareth as Tomas shifts rooms, calling quietly, "What's the jewelry like, Jareth?"
Norris considers. "Mebbe keep it. Th' soldiers outside kin tell us whut it says."
Jareth stands up and follows after Tomas. He grins at Mikal as he pockets the necklace, "Finding anything interesting?" His natural curiousity sends him after the watchman, checking the little rooms.
The next room Tomas checks is similar, except here there is a sprawl of clothes on one of the beds. There is no armor, but the clothing clearly has a rent in the chest, suggesting some sort of bladed weapon.
Mikal looks a bit wistfully at the necklace, intensely curious as to what jewelry here is like, but says nothing. She goes back to covering Tomas as he opens the next door, and at sight of the clothing she murmurs unhappily, "Three."
Tomas says, "Nothing in particular. We can do a better search once we have cleared the tower and found out what happened."
Jareth calls to Mikal, "I don't know, little rabbit. Maybe a talisman. I can't read them."
Tomas says, "Be careful what you touch. Or you may turn into a little rabbit yourself."
Mikal glances sideways at Jareth, then ducks her head and blushes, grinning to herself. She sticks close and keeps covering Tomas, however.
Jareth flashes his grin at Tomas.
Tomas listens at door 8.
Again, there is no sound behind the last of the three doors.
Tomas opens the door
This room is much likes the first one -- neat, tidy, and no sprawl of clothing suggesting a body had been here.
Jareth leans over and peers under one of the beds and makes a 'huh!' sort of noise, catching up the little empty crystal vial. There's no lid on it. He carefully holds it to his nose to see if he can detect any familiar scent. He calls out, "Anyone seeing little bottles?"
When the door is open, Tomas steps in and moves tothe right. If there is nothing in the room, he will open the footlockers and check for anything out of the ordinary. If he hears Jareth, he will search for little bottles.
Mikal sighs in relief, stepping back and lowering her bow as the last room is shown to be empty. She glances back towards where Jareth is calling from, then goes to stand by Raphael, gently rubbing his ears and patiently waiting for the others.
Jareth wanders after Tomas and Mikal, peering into that room, too. Once Tomas is done, he looks around as well.
In this room that Tomas is in, neither of the footlockers have anything in them. He also does not see any vials.
Mikal smiles faintly at Norris, across the room and standing guard at the stairs.
Norris checks the stairs. No vials. "Not here!"
Mikal checks the door she's by, wondering if this one has a wooden latch on it too.
Norris grins at Mikal. "Doan worreh, Mikal. These stairs aint goin nowheres." he assures her, trying to keep his spirits up."
Mikal grins at Norris!
Mikal checks the door she's at. There's a wooden latch on it, and the door is closed.
Jareth shrugs as he finds nothing in the room. "There's some sort of something inside this little bottle." He shows the vial to his companions.
Mikal nods, pleased, and latches that door too. "There! If someone comes in now, we'll hear them. We can go up the stairs now, so there's no silent approaches to our back, everyone!"
Mikal curiously moves over to Jareth, leaning to check the tiny bottle.
Norris nods approval. "That's smart thinkin, Mikal." he drawls.
Mikal beams at Norris!
Tomas finishes searching the room and moves to the stairway. "Should we go up or finish searching this floor?"
The little crystal vial looks able to hold about ten cubic centimeters of fluid but right now its empty except for some white and green residue along the sides.
Raphael rises and shakes himself, yawning and stretching lazily -- his shark'smouthfull of teeth are an amazing sight! -then trots over to place his forepaw-hands on the lowest stairs, sniffing interestedly upstairs.
Mikal murmurs to Jareth, "Any idea what it is?"
Jareth shakes his head, shrugging, "No idea. But I figure we're looking for strange things. This looked strange to me."
Norris hesitates. He likes Raph enough, but isn't as casual as Mikal is with animals. And as he has nothing better to do, he tenatively takes off a gauntlet and offers the wolf his bare hand to smell when he's done checking out the stairs.
Norris looks over at Tomas. "Ah think if there wuz anythin gonna jump out at us, we'd have heard em by now. Let's see what's up top, is mah suggestion."
Raphael glances back at Norris's offered hand, his tongue lolling casually out of his tooth-fringed maw, and seems almost to grin at the large boy. He reaches over and relaxedly slurps Norris's hand... then turns to staring interestedly up the stairs again.
Mikal murmurs shyly to Jareth, "Can I, um... may I?" She tentatively reaches for the vial.
Norris is relaxed by this. Though they've come a long way since he tried to brain the beast, he's never been sure if the wolf liked him. Now he confidently scritches the wolf's ears as he mans his post.
Jareth givse Mikal the vial, "Of course you may." He lingers for just a second longer than normal in handing it over.
Mikal gives Jareth an uncertain flash of a sideways smile from under her bangs... then her fascinated focus goes to the vial. She sits down on the floor, pulling off a mit to carefully tap out a bit of the residue, then check it very carefully. A heartbeat later she gives a startled hiss, straightening up with a shocked look as she shakes the powder hastily off her hand, wiping her palm several times on her pants leg! She nervously stutters, "I c-c-can't b-be sure, b-but but, um, I think this is poisonlily?! D-delling t-told me its leaves can be crushed and an herbal remedy that's really strong can be made b-but you want just teeny tiny doses, you know? L-l-like just a drop!" She holds out the vial nervously, as if she expects it to bite her, "Th-th-this is, this... is a lot of poison, guys!"
Jareth immediately checks his hands to see if there's any of the residue on them.
Raphael growls contentedly, turning his head so Norris's scritchings hit the right spots. He glances over at Mikal's hiss, but seems unworried when she doesn't react further.
Mikal says, "H-here, Jareth -- you take it, yes?"
Tomas says, "If it is poison, be CAREFUL. Mikal, is it something you have to drink, or does it work on touch?"
Jareth is a little more cautious with the vial this time and he looks around for something to wrap it in. If there's nothing convenient to hand, he'll cut a piece of cloth off a blanket or one of the sets of armor. He doesn't want it just knocking around in his pocket.
Mikal says, "I, it, uh, I, I think you have to d-drink it, b-but, but, um... like... what if you put your f-f-finger in your mouth lter, you know?"
Tomas hands Mikal a canteen and tells her to wash her hands, and then give it to Jareth.
Norris's brow knits at all this talk, looking disturbed, but has nothing to say in response.
Mikal nervously wipes her hand a few more times as she rises and heads over to Raphael and Norris. She nods to Tomas, wetting her hands and scrubbing them together, then rinsing with a thorough splash -- she's not worried at this point about wet floors! After she's dried her hands on her pants again, she holds the canteen for Jareth as well, "I'll pour; you wash, yes?"
Jareth finishes bundling up the vial and putting it carefully away and then lets Mikal help him wash his hands. To Tomas he says, "Good call, my friend."
Tomas smiles.
Mikal sighs, relaxing a bit when they're both rinsed off. She hands the canteen back to Tomas, murmuring a soft, "Thank you," before she heads for Raphael and Norris again.
Mikal murmurs quietly to Norris, "So three gone so far. That's almost half the guards. Poison might kill, but it doesn't make bodies vanish!"
Mikal adds confusedly, "And the shirt with the stabbity wound -- no blood! How can that be?! Surely immortals aren't bloodless?"
Tomas says, "I have no idea. For all we know, they disappear when they die, if that's the right word for immortals, blood and all."
Mikal gives Tomas a troubled glance, falling silent. This is very confusing to her.
Norris nods to Mikal. "wuz just thinkin th' same myself. Tis inneresting, but not th' full storeh."
Mikal sighs, leaning against Norris a bit, and nods unhappily again.
Norris gestures at the stairs. "Mebbe there's more useful infermation above...r' at th' verreh least, the folks outside kin make more edyecated guesses, hey?"
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