Yes... if someone could unlock my cell that would be very much appreciated. the young woman still stuck in her cell says, her English accent is cultured and refined. And yes we do need to get out of this place. Do any of you know where we are?
Seeing the blood flow away from the man's wounds in a melancholic trail, the Frenchwoman's thoughts point to the obvious as soon as she starts preparing the bandages. "Merde!", she exclaims furiously, then she moves closer to close the man's eyes. "Merci... adieu...", she whispers to their late rescuer, nodding at Peyton. "He is dead...", she confirms with a nod.
Turning around and wiping a tear from her eye, she turns around to look around the room. The two men seemed to have found some trove of possessions they were conversing about, and just as she's about to join them, Peyton's very polite request to be let out of the cell stops her in her tracks, as she quickly skips to the keychain on the floor. Taking the keys and unlocking the cell, she opens the door. "Mademoiselle.", she unlocks the door, letting the other woman open it herself. "I do not even know who I am...", she replies in a short moment with sorrow in her voice.
As she sees the clothes and items in the corner, she raises an eyebrow at the worn blue cloak, the larger, blue dress and the corselet. The dream... She spreads the blue cloak as an impromptu curtain, before clearing her throat in a surprisingly authoritative tone at the two gentlemen present, indicating that they should, if not leave the room, at least turn around. As they do so, she gestures for Peyton that it's safe to change her clothes, then turns around to stare at the two men with a keen and distrustful eye.
"We must... as much as I would want to see that... thing burn for what it did!", she speaks out. "I don't know what is going on, but... if you were in those cells, and you are real... then we need to at least work together until we leave, be we captives or ...criminals." Pointing at the crumbled wall, she continues, in her heavy French accent. "If we see stairs, we should go up to escape, since we are... under the terrain."
The fact that these same people had been in the terrible dream he had had was not lost on Thomas. Indeed, the thought that he was insane crossed his mind, surely egged on by the fact that there was little else he remembered. He remembered vague details about the asylum, of course, but everything before that was a blur, like a liquid he was trying to catch with his hand. He could feel it all around him, but every time he clenched his fist to grasp it slipped out and left him empty.
As the French woman cleared her throat, the man went quickly into the other room-like area, not even thinking about how silly it was to observe the niceties when time was of the essence. After the two women dressed, 'Thomas' rejoined them, nodding in agreement enthusiastically as the talk turned to escape. "I remember little of our present situation, but I know I don't want to be here when that thing returns! I had this...terrible dream, and you all were in it. A vision, maybe...a sign from God. Perhaps I was a terrible person..." He clutched at his head for a moment, shaking it vigorously for a few seconds, before continuing. "Let's see how to get out...we can talk later, if there is a later."
59013 clears his throat, "My apologies ma'am, I'll be out of yer' hair." He heads out of the room and sits against the wall.
What was it that I was told? I cannot remember what it was or who it was. But I must remember, I was told I could not forget. What was it?"
Peyton moves from her cell to one of the sacks. She shudders as she passes by the unfortunate man on the slab. If he hadn't woken us.. or kicked that foul woman. Then.. we would have been next. One by one.
She kneels to examine it and finds items that are incredibly familiar. I say, these seem to be.. mine? she murmurs.
When the frenchwoman deals with the two gents. Peyton nods her thanks. Us women should stick together, yes? she says as she quickly switches out of the rags that she had woken up in to put on the surprisingly dense brocades and corset that were her size. The petticoat in fact seemed to be cunningly wrought to hide the fact that it was, in fact, split, allowing for a good range of motion. This was an outfit meant for an adventuring person. Odd then that it seemed to be hers.
You do not know who you are? she says to the Frenchwoman. That is odd. I am Peyton. I think. I mean. Peyton grows flustered. I'm fairly certian that is my name. I don't know what my full name would be and.. I don't know where I am now or where I came from! Peyton starts to take breaths in order to calm herself. She remembers her dream And I have absolutely no idea how what that... spectre.. is that came out of that Irishman or how I am able to.... move things without touching them. I am NOT a Witch I assure you... I think.
As she's doing so she has strapped the bow and quiver to herself with automatic gestures. She looks down at herself. I don't remember learning how to use these things she says to herself quietly. I don't know what is happening.
To distract herself from all this she starts to carefully examine the contents of the room. Mayhaps there's a clue somewhere in this... chaos. She starts with the grisly remains of their recently deceased fellow prisoner.
'Thomas' came back into the room after it seemed the ladies were dressed, finding 'Peyton' starting to have a thorough look around the corpse. In an almost pleading tone he said, "Look, lady, we have to get OUT of here! That...thing...could be back at any moment with friends. I will be forever thankful to this poor man for his help in escaping, but it's worthless if we squander it. Let's GO!"
The young man gripped the weapon he had picked up nervously, eyes darting about. Though he was close to panic at this point, it having been a few minutes since their captor had escaped, he was not yet to the point where he'd rather venture off alone.
I do not wish to charge off into the unknown without at least some preparation, good sir. the young woman retorts Forewarned is Forearmed.
59013 follows Thomas and once Peyton finishes speakin, "I can't say I know what the thing that came out of me was. Somethin' came over me, a haze of some kinda' anger. I apologise if I scared ya'. There's certainly somethin' goin' on that's a bit...beyond what we could be familiar with. I can't quite remember my name, so I can't introduce myself quite well. The only thing that comes to me is 59013, so I guess ya' can call me that. I think we'd best get out of here, though a bit of preparation could be good. We shouldn't linger though. The sooner I get back to...I can't rightly remember where I need to be, but I'd rather be anywhere than here."
"You think any amount of preparation will get us ready for that THING!?" 'Thomas' threw his hands up in the air but proceeded to wait, certain that a score of the things would be upon them at any minute and proceed to cut them to pieces like the man on the table. Or worse.
His gaze was caught by the crucifix he had picked up...he hadn't remembered picking it up, but it felt comfortable to him for some reason. He found that he knew many verses of the Anglican bible...he had almost a catalog of information stored in his head. Had he been very religious?
In spite of “Thomas’s” panicked desire to get out of their immediate surroundings, there doesn’t seem to be an obvious way of actually leaving the basement. The chute the woman in the doctor coat had scuttled up is one option, with the obvious drawback of encountering her inside of it. However, the stairs seem to be filled with tons of rubble, making them impassable.
“Peyton’s” exhaustive search doesn’t yield fruit of any type until she opens the furnace’s heavy iron door. There, inside the filthy, ash-covered chamber, is a passage that’s big enough for a man or woman to crawl through. It’s dark, but quiet for the most part. However, there’s no telling where it goes, and there’s not much room for turning around...or fighting.
Well I never the Englishwoman huffs Neither of these are civilized portals but if we must choose then I would rather not go the same way as that horrid woman.
She taps her chin thoughtfully, analyzing the information she has been presented with, before continuing The furnace exit seems rather well hidden so it may be the people in charge of this terrible place aren't even aware of it. It might lead to the outside and freedom I daresay. She brightens at the thought. I should say that we could all do with a little bit of sunshine
'Thomas' nodded, thankful that the woman's talk had turned to leaving. In his own, lower-class English accent he added, "Well, let's get going, then. Better stuck in the furnace than encountering that thing again." He grasped the crucifix tightly, waiting to see if either of the ladies wanted to go first (it was silly that this polite response exerted itself, but he did it nonetheless). If neither was quick about it, the young man stowed his weapon and began to enter the filthy entryway to the furnace.
The Frenchwoman nods at Peyton with a smile. "When you say you are not a witch, I believe you.", she reasons, before sheathing her rapier on her hilt with a surprisingly trained move. Taking a moment to grab a glimpse of her companions, she sighs. A priest, an Irishman and a... noblewoman? None seem armed, or battle-ready... And why do I?
"Monsieur,", she speaks to the priest as he opens the furnace, "it would be reasonable for me to proceed first.", she nods at the gun in her hand, she says, climbing into the entrance. To which hells this leads us, I do not know..., she thinks as her hands and head begin covering with soot.
The soot does quickly cover the group's hands, knees, and heads as they make their way up the furnace's ductwork, and it quickly grows pitch black. After a minute of darkness, however, a pale light starts to flicker through a grate in the wall. A few kicks opens it, and a moment later, the group is out of the ductwork. The room you find yourselves in a room crowded with cast-iron boilers, pipes flowing through the walls and ceiling. Between the cold tanks, the spaces are filled with shadows and rust.
As the group gets its bearings, you notice a flickering, pale light in the corner, hidden behind the boilers. A moment later, two exceptionally large rats dart out, flanking a hideous-looking creature none of you have seen before. Its luminous eyes cast a pale light on the room as it scans, then lets forth a string of gibberish. Its tail is the same as those of the rats, though its arms are vaguely ape-like. It sniffs the air with a tendril-covered, mole-like nose as the rats move forward to attack!
The rats move forward, heading toward 77314 and trying to bite at her legs. Neither finds itself able to make contact through her armor, however.
The strange creature, meanwhile, loops around behind a boiler, perhaps looking for a different target to attack.
By all that is good and holy, what IS that thing? 54831 shouts trying to get her bearing in the strange new room they'd found herself in. She can't help but feel bitterly dissapointed that the chute had not led to an exit even while they are attacked by a rat creature of some sort.
The Frenchwoman squeaks as the rats appear, her epee finding its way out of the scabbard. With a spectacular flourish, the rapier's tip slashes across the eye of one of the rats, in a move that would've left duelists everywhere amazed. The rat, however remains unfazed, except the high-pitched growl. F-77314 grits her teeth, raising the rapier towards the strange creature. "It is horrid, and in our way! Speak if you want to live!", she shouts, readying herself for the rats' attacks.
'Thomas' grimaced as the rats and the other...thing appear in their way. He recoiled as the thing started to speak, of all things, shaking his head as it disappeared. Moving forward, he lunged at the rat that the Frenchwoman had hit with her slender blade, hoping to put it out of commission before it could sink its disease-ridden fangs into any of them.
59013 begins to concentrate as a suit of intangible force comes into being around him.
The first of the oversized rats goes down under the combined assault of "Thomas" and 77314's weapons as 59013 casts a defensive barrier around himself.
The creature, meanwhile, turns its lighted gaze on 59013 as he finishes his spell, darting forward between the boilers to take a bite. Fortunately, the ethereal armor he's just applied takes the force of the creature's maw. The rat carries on its determined assault on 77314, though it finds itself utterly ineffectual.
Thomas grimaced in disgust as his mace smacked into the large rodent, the creature falling still after his and the Frenchwoman's attacks upon it. Thinking to dispatch the other rat before they all turned their attention on the other...thing...the young man again swung at the other rat, trying to cull their foes down to one.
Out of the corner of his eye, Thomas saw the other man conjure some kind of ethereal shield over himself. The Englishman shook his head, grasping his crucifix tightly in the wake of all these astonishing things happening all at once.
As the other rat attempts to bite the frenchwoman's boots, she raises one, trying to pin the rat under it. Unfortunately, the fierce critter proves too fast for the heavy boot, and manages to scurry away before being squashed. "Die!", she cries out in frustration, as the fanged monster closes in on the Irish, as she rustles through her belts to draw her pistol.
That... creature seems to be going after 59013 and his... magic. Watch out for it's teeth. They seem designed to cut and bleed!
Peyton maneuvers to try and get a clear shot at the rate and uses her own mysterious powers to send a bit of rubble at it.
No one is able to make contact with the rat, or with the other creature assaulting 59013. Its mole-like tendrils seem to push through the magic shield around him as it takes a small chunk out of his calf. The wound starts to ooze out blood, which quickly accelerates into a small, but still concerning, stream.
77314's luck with the rat runs out as well, as the unusually-sized rodent gets its jaws into the spot right behind her knee, tearing at tendons and muscle.
Desperate, knowing that any time spent fighting the vermin is time that the thing has to get help and come back, Thomas wildly swung his weapon at the rat that is savaging the Frenchwoman.
Letting out a cry of pain, the Frenchwoman swings her rapier down at the vicious rat. "Vicious creature!", she hisses, as she fruitlessly flails around to catch the beast attached to her leg.
59013 cries out, "Bloody hell!" He steps back and a chunk of rubble rises off the ground. However, he is unable to maintain focus and the rubble falls once more.
Peyton tries to manevuer to get a clear shot on the rat assaulting F-77314.
Once again, the party finds no purchase on either the creature or the oversized rat. However, the creature's continued assault on 59013 gets nowhere, either. Nor can the rat continue to press its advantage against 77314, though its jaws gnaw on her clothes.
These rats, are unnatural! 54831 rages as she is unable to land any sort of a hit on them.
Thomas found himself glad that the unnatural monster was attacking the man with the phantasm that grew out of his chest. Not that he wished any ill of the man, he just was relieved he only had a rat to worry with. What an ungodly thought...the young man shook his head to clear the selfish panic out of his head, again trying to smash the rat harrying the Frenchwoman.
The Frenchwoman's rapier points downwards at the rats, as she swings wildly. A sword, I can defend against, but not against such demonic pests!, a panicked though passes through her head as she misses the rats once more. Reaching for her pistol, she draws it in her grasp, pointing it towards the creature.
The rat, under the crushing force of Thomas's mace, lets out a piteous squeak and twitches a few times before stopping moving. The other creature sees its rat allies vanquished and warbles in a way that none of the party have ever heard before. Then, slowly and cautiously, it steps away from 59013 and weaves its way between the boilers, where it continues warbling quietly while regarding the party with its strange, luminous eyes.
To the east sits a plain, oak door with a brass handle.
54831 pauses. I dare say, disgusting as it is, that thing seems to have a modicum of sense. I say we leave it be, if it leaves us alone. I wonder if it understands some common tongue
She raises her voice Hoi, ape-rat! she addresses the creature Do you understand what we say? Ah... warble twice for yes.
Thomas is content to let the strange creature scurry off, his chest heaving from the combat and the sense of foreboding he had regarding their captors. They had to leave NOW! As 'Peyton' tried to communicate with the creature, the young man made his way over to the oaken door, trying the handle. Chances are what was on the other side wouldn't be any prettier, but just sitting here was suicide.
Frowning, the Frenchwoman looks at Peyton, opening her mouth, but then deciding to remain silent. Her pistol ready in her arm, she nods at Thomas as he wrestles with the door, pointing the pistol at it. "Yes, do leave it... We don't want to be here any longer than it.", she finally speaks out. "And, thank you.", she utters in her thick accent at the priest.
59013 says in his somewhat soft voice, "Could we wait for a moment. I'd like to...invite my...friend to come help us. Without 'im I'm a sittin' duck." Unless people object, 59013 will bring forth his phantom, clenching his fists and gritting his teeth as the being pulls itself out of his chest.
Thomas had the presence of mind to offer the Frenchwoman a smile as she thanked him. "No problem, miss. Least I could do for you for keeping their teeth off of me." The priest (was he a priest? he certainly had the knowledge for it, he supposed...) nodded at 59013, though his manner didn't seem happy about the wait.
Still, better prepared Thomas supposed. As they waited, the young man noted the Frenchwoman's wounds, gripping his crucifix in his hands he turned his eyes skyward. "Lord, please grant us the strength to persevere through whatever nightmare is going on here. Be a guiding light through this darkness so that we can figure out our place in Your design. Amen."
A warmth flowed through the room, a rejuvenating energy that possibly perked up everyone and lessened their hurts and worries just a tad, pushing back at the despair surrounding them.
Peyton's attempts at conversations don't produce two warbles, but rather, a long, loud string of them, followed by the creature edging further back between the boilers. It seems it doesn't understand English at all.
Surprisingly, Thomas's attempts to open the door don't result in an immediate attack by more of the warbling ape-rats. Instead, the door opens on a dark, white-walled hallway. Broken lamps and battered wooden doors line the rubble-strewn passage, while to the south, just a bit of light leaks past two broken doors on top of a pile of wrecked furniture, which clogs the doorframe the two doors must have hung from.
It's trying to say something.. Peyton says frustrated. Well I think it's learned not to get in our way and that'll have to be enough... for now.
What is this place? Peyton mutters peering around Thomas And what happened to it?
I have never heard anything like the language the creature was gabbling in and I know quite a few if I do say so myself Peyton confides her failure to the others while, at the same time, boasting of her knowledge. It is certainly a creature out of a madman's tale however.
Looking at the broken door the young woman says Can we get through the rubble and see what is on the other side of the doors?
Thomas eyed 'Peyton' for a moment, uncertain if the woman was merely stating a fact or engaging in what would be called a century later the 'humblebrag'. Her comment about the creature hit home, though, and got the man moving once again towards the streams of light emanating from the blocked door.
He looked back at the others, answering the woman's question. "We can try, and with God on our side we can make it through!" He hoped, anyway, as he started trying to clear the debris to make their escape from this hellhole possible. The sheer terror he had been feeling had dimmed somewhat, but his memories of the horrible woman and the recent rat-monster-thing had him working hard to move the rubble.
Before Thomas can make it to the rubble, a cacophony of "Stop moving!" and "We got more, here!" and "Stop! You're covered!" breaks the otherwise stale silence of the hallway. From on top of the rubble barricade, a handful of men wearing hodgepodge bits of steel and leather over white aprons and light blue clothes look down, covering the party with a ragtag assortment of firearms.
Peyton raises her hands. What fresh hell is this? she mutters to herself trying to glean more information about the people in front of her.
"No! Get down!", the Frenchwoman shouts, as her hand leaps to draw her pistol. "Are you with the beasts?", she shouts, the defiant intent broken by the crack of her voice. Scurrying to whatever cover she can find, she pokes her head out. They are better armed than us... But I refuse to surrender!, a thought passes through her head as she bites her lip.
59013 steps toward the men and says in his somewhat meek voice, "Are ye' friends? We've just woken from one nightmare into another, I'd hope that you aren't heralds of further mis'ry."
Thomas' mouth goes dry as he hears the men behind him barking orders. He looked eagerly towards the light streaming from the doors, but knows there is no way to clear it in time to make an escape, especially with all the firearms pointed their way. As the others ask the newcomers who they are, Thomas merely stands there dejectedly, escape having been so close. He looked up at the person who seemed to be in charge, wondering if they were saved or about to suffer a terrible fate.
None of the men on the walls say anything, but their guns lower a bit as they determine that the party's stopped moving. After a few moments, another man moves up toward the top of the barricade of rubble. He clears his throat. "There's no way you're coming across the barrier, monsters, so ye may as well go on back. I don't want to have to shoot you if I don't have to."
Good Lord. Do We Look Like Monsters to you, man? Peyton snaps out before giving 59013 a side eye. No sorcery from me or demon friends from you, alright? she whispers before turning back to the barricaded men We just woke up in this madhouse and we're looking for safety just like you. You must believe us!
”Monsters? We aren’t monsters. We woke up in a prison with a shape changing beast about to try and cut us up. I’ve no idea how any of us got here, just that we woke up on the wrong side of a wall and now we’re bein’ called monsters.”