Salt perched serenely on a small rocky outcropping, awaiting the return of her friends. All gear was ready, blades sharp. Warm sun glinting off the metal of her trusted pistol, meticulously pouring over every inch, every tiny dent and scratch reassuringly familiar to the touch.
The WHOOSH of a cable broke Salt's reverie, and she glanced up to see Ouroboros and Gerome descending rapidly. As the little man approached, she noticed his smile and returned it, followed by a gentle tap on the nose.
Boop!
Yay! Ready to go now!
Ready! Let’s go exploring!
The ship is easy to see. A jet black hulk of metal against the sand becoming obvious as the dust begins to settle. No longer in any sort of motion it becomes clear that the vessel has sustained serious damage, long segments of its massive hull are scorched and partially melted, tremendous dents speaking of unimaginable impacts against the menacing side of the thing tell their own story of why it might have crashed - but they also provide the best possible source of entry.
One indent in particular sits close to the ground, the ship itself tilted at perhaps a 45 degree angle. The metal of the exterior is damaged there, frayed and collapsing. It should be no great task to break it up and gain entry to the beckoning darkness within.
BZZT forges ahead to examine the breach, his engineer’s curiosity getting the better of him, in spite of his warning to Salt.
Reaching the opening, he examines it carefully for traps or hazards.
Salt peers into the great void beyond the opening, letting her eyes adjust to the blue-grey outlines of dark vision.
Her excitement is almost uncontainable, but she follows BZZT’s advice, hanging back while the little man searches for traps.
A faint hum of static seems to fill the air as well. To the untrained ear the buzz is uniform, boring. To BZZT it’s immediately obvious that there is a pattern within the noise, faint but unmistakeable beeps and whistles, the pattern repeats itself once every few seconds or so, though what it means you havn’t a clue.
Up against the gap you can see some distance into the ship, a darkened metal walkway stretching out of sight a few feet below your point of entrance, it’s surface scarred with odd marks, as if a bucket full of fire had been lobbed against the ground just before a pack of wild dogs charged past. A little further into the distance a blinking red light illuminates part of said walkway, just before it turns a corner out of sight. And below the walkway? An inky void, you cannot see the bottom.
BZZT starts humming in time with the static. Taking his very largest wrench, he starts tapping the brittle metal, seeing at what impact force it breaks.
Salt debates blasting the metal with her pistol, before thinking better of it and evaluating properly.
Hearing BZZT hum, she starts improvising a drum beat over the top.
Gerome really isn’t sure what’s going on, but boy is this exciting. He’d never been to a shipwreck before. He was content to hang back and let the professionals get on with things. When the improvised musical interlude began, Gerome decided it was his time to shine. With giddy excitement he pulled out his trombone and gave it a toot.
Blackblood came up the rear. So far, no mischief to be had. He sits down on a black metallic lump, probably a piece of the hull that had broken away from the ship, and waited patiently whilst the engineer did his thing. When Gerome started to play his jaunty tune, he signed and buried his face in his hands. He was going to get fed up of this tish very soon...
At the first light tap the metal that had been in your way cracks and fractures, at the second it shatters like fragile glass, razor edges dropping down around your feet, sinking unnaturally deep into the sand. A few seconds of silence - then a faint clatter of metal on metal says what happened to the pieces that missed the walkway and fell into the darkness.
A jagged scraping sound jangles up to you shortly after the shower, swiftly followed by the loud thud of something heavy hitting the floor. Something precariously balanced must have fallen over.
Nothing now prevents your entry. The red light blinking invitingly.
BZZT steps carefully into the hole, still humming. He beckons the others to follow, still checking for traps. His dark vision kicks in and the world is plunged into monochromatic grey-blue as he carefully picks a path onto the walkway.
Salt follows, pistol held in a low ready stance, other hand free to brace herself should the ship shift further.
She carefully picks up a slice of the metal to examine it further.
This could make a fun blade. Or a bullet...
Gerome freezes once again in terrified indecision, his trombone stopped mid toot. His eyes search out Ouroboros. For all of his life he has been desperate for adventure, but now on the precipice he was afraid.
The tiefling stands with a flourish of his cloak and a half smile. He gestures for Gerome to follow on ahead. It was strange how this demonic creature could both scare and reassure him. He felt confident Ouroboros would allow nothing terrible to happen to him, would protect him, up until the point he decided to rip him in two. In a way he was the most trustworthy of their companions. He just hoped he noticed the tide turning.
With a half smile and a nod, Gerome followed the group inside, still clutching his trombone like a comfort blanket.
Ouroboros waited for Gerome to go ahead of him, and the followed on behind him. He was hyper aware that their little spontaneous gig may have drawn the attention of nearby predators, and so he kept one on on the road behind, trusting that Salt would have her full attention on the path ahead. He readied his scythe for action, and followed the group inside.
Salt, seeing Gerome's hesitation, extends a hand to the little man.
C'mon Green, this will be worth a song and then some!
The interior of the ship is dark and cold, the hum of static in the air enough to put anyone’s teeth on edge, unless one walks with the utmost care their steps clatter against the walkway in time with their stride, the sound echoing off into the darkness.
Scorch marks are everywhere. Like concentrated bursts of flame had lashed against the metal hundreds of times over. No trace of fire remains now though - the red light around the corner being the only source of illumination - aside from the sunlight pouring through your entry point of course.
Rounding the corner you find the lights point of origin, a strange glass case situated above what looks to be a sliding metal door, the static hum seeming to pulse in time with the blinks of red. Strangely, whilst the wall around it is covered in more of the same marks of melted metal the door itself seems mostly pristine, a few old sooty marks the only stains upon it.
What made those marks? Well...the body collapsed against it might be a clue.
The man is desiccated. Skin pulled tight against bone, almost looking as if he would crumble at the slightest breeze. He lies on his stomach, arms bent to rest against the unopening doorway. A great wound across his back says how he likely died, a rust-brown stain pooling around him only adding to that theory.
As for why he didn’t get flung around when Bessie catapulted the ship out of the sand? That might be because the weapon that caused the wound is still there.
Cross a vicious fang with a honed claw, make it obsidian black. Now cover it in odd whorls and spiral groves, carved in slightly nauseating patterns. Now make it as long as the average human and razor sharp. That is slammed through the mans back, pinning him firmly to the floor.
The mans clothing is shredded, not nearly enough remains to guess at what he might have been wearing. But around his neck lies a purple band of what looks to be silk - holding a chunk of crystal at the end of it, finally - just underneath on of the outstretched arms - there lies something that looks very much like a gun...
Salt studies the light to see if she can puzzle it out, then turns her attention to the gun. She wants that. But heeding BZZT's words, she holds back until he's checked for traps.
BZZT paces carefully around the body, studying the lethal blade intently, then searches for traps:
Gerome, do you recognise the blade here? You seem to know a lot about everything...
Gerome looks around mouth agape with both wonder and fear. His gnomish low light vision helps him make out the room around him as he peers through the gloom. Upon request, he slowly and tremulously makes his way to the body and the blade beside it. He studies both carefully, not sure where this sudden belief in his internal encyclopaedia of useless information has come from, but he's eager not to let the team down.
Ouroboros stays close behind. He gave a cursory glance at the body and blade, then returns his attention to the exit. He's ready for attack from behind, he's hoping Salt is covering the front still...
Salt notices the gem on the ribbon and is torn between what she wants to reach for more...
No
Ouroboros snaps at Salt, he can see her out the corner of his eye, and he can read her face as easily as if she had announced her intentions to the room.
Stay on point, let the little folk check for traps.
Salt pouts slightly.
But it’s pretty...
Ouroboros smiles almost gently at Salt.
Patience my sweet. Patience and planning are backbone of all brilliant schemes. Remember what I taught you.
Ouroboros scans the area for traps and clues. The scene before him seemed a little convenient for his tastes.
Gerome is still considering Bzzt's request, wracking his brains before any titbit of information he may remember from his travels, or more likely, the preparation for his travels. Upon overhearing Salt's conversation with Ouroboros he realises he too should be looking for traps or clues before he touches anything.
No traps. As far as anyone can tell anyway. Though the assessment of the thing rammed through the mans spine is a bit off - there is no hilt, no guard, nothing to indicate it was designed to be held and used. Rather - it looks like the tip of a claw, broken off into a wound.
Salt recognises the gun from one of the many books she greedily devoured whilst working on getting her stormcycle up and running, a device the City of Stars boasted would be certain to “burn the darkness clean.” It looks like you may have found the source of all the burn marks along the walkway. If the thing happens to still be functioning she’s found herself her very own inferno pistol.
The crystal around the dead mans neck gleams invitingly...
Oddly enough Gerome’s mind leaps towards the nobility. More specifically of the City of Stars. The cut of that crystal - it’s the design favoured by the House of Sunfire, marking the bearer as a member of that clan and almost guaranteeing that he was a comparatively high-ranking individual aboard this ship. The house in question was famed for both its warriors and the seeming mastery it held over cosmic flame and energy.
Let no darkness bar your path,
Let no foe withstand your flame,
And let no road remain untraveled.
So do I swear.
The oath all members must take.
Or...well...must have taken. The clan’s presumably long dead now, along with anything else based out of the City of Stars when it was destroyed.
Salt smiles, looks around one more time, then picks up the pistol with an almost holy reverence, gently freeing it from the unfortunate man's hand.
Come here, little pretty. I'll look after you.
She checks it over carefully, almost lovingly, then tucks it into the depths of her coat.
A sudden chill runs down her spine as she realises that what she had assumed to be a very large blade was in fact a colossal claw.
Hope whatever that broke off isn't still on board...
With perhaps less respect than she sould have shown to the dead nobleman, she unties the ribbon and scoops up the gem to examine it closely.
The moment Salts fingers touch the band the crystal emits a near blinding flash of light along with what sounds like a snippet of a scream cut short. None of these effects are outright harmful, only potentially startling.
For everyone but Salt that is. Her body jerks violently backwards, the flailing crystal still somehow attached to her fingers, rigid and clearly not in full control of her muscles she slams loudly into the floor.
Bruising her skull in the process, by the time her muscles relax it is clear she is unconscious.
Salt will wake up in just a few seconds with a pounding headache but no serious injuries. And hey - she knows how to open that door now. Hold the bio-shard (the crystal) up to the red light and recite the oath of the House of Sunfire.
The shard is bonded to Salt now. Some part of the functionally indestructible band will always be in some manner of contact with her body. Most bearers wore them around their necks or wrists, though it could just as easily dangle off her back if she left it there. Normally there would be a whole procedure for transferring it but the shard was in the middle of moving a lot of data when it’s previous bearer got mega-shanked and basically crashed. It’s fractured physical state reflecting the catastrophic loss of data it suffered, but also meaning it treated the next person to touch it as its first time user and immediately rushed to allow them access to all systems. That said systems are mostly full of darkness and screams is immaterial.
As for what “Gaia” is? The name comes with a brief pulse of warm familiarity. Nothing else.
Gaia...?
Salt mumbles the word uneasily, before shaking her head and looking at her assembled friends.
How much did I drink?
She looks uncomfortably at the crystal, flicks her fingers a couple of times to try and dislodge it. . When it refuses, she shrugs, slides it up to her wrist and ties off the ribbon.
That's a thing to worry about later.
Let no darkness bar your path,
Let no foe withstand your flame,
And let no road remain untraveled.
So do I swear...
A verse from an old song stumbles out of the mist of Gerome's memory. The design sparked something in his mind. Information about the House of Sunfire and the experiments with Cosmic flame and energy.He started to think out loud, explaining tot he room what he remembered.
He grins and looks around, expecting his party to be hanging off his every word. Salt, however had stolen his moment. She lay prone upon the ground, rubbing her head, their comrades had formed a half circle around her looking on concernedly.
He signed, so the obviously dangerous thing, had in fact, turned out to be dangerous...
Honestly, if anything was going to knock her out, my money was on the pistol explodin'... Y'OK there Salt?
Ouroboros had been paying more attention to the rear entrance than to acts of stupidity of the party. When Salt was flung across the room, he responded quickly, rushing to her side and kneeling beside her. He studied her carefully but was careful not to touch her or the sparkly rock she had picked up.
You dead?
Would've been pretty... pointless, wouldn't it?
She winks cheerily, in spite of the pain, and reaches out an arm to be helped up.
Ouroboros recoiled from Salt’s offered arm and stood abruptly. He wasn’t keen to be knocked on his rear entrance!
I wonder what that thing is... he mused out loud. whatever it is, it’s powerful.
Gerome harrumphs in frustration and stamps his foot.
I just told you want it was. Maybe if people listened instead of looking with their fingers...
Salt somewhat gingerly rises to her feet.
Point taken, little Green. Point taken. On the bright side, I know how to get through this door now. Defensive positions before I say the magic words?
Ouroboros looks from Salt to the door and back again.
Before we start exploding things and giving away our location to whatever did... he gestures the mangled body.
did anyone actually try the door or check it was locked?
Oh yeah... I know how to open the door.
She smiled nonchalantly, clearly feeling better.
Crystal-thingy put pictures in my brain. You hold up the crystal and say the words Gerome was muttering. Last chance to take cover before I do the thing...
Salt didn't wait for anyone to take cover. Raising the crystal on her wrist to the door, she incanted:
Let no darkness bar your path,
Let no foe withstand your flame,
And let no road remain untraveled.
So do I swear!
The red light pulses in time with the words, its light refracted within the upheld crystal to a heartbeat of speckled glowing. Come the end of the oath and it dims to nothing, the light almost seeming to be drawn inside the crystal, which now itself glows in a familiar shade of gently pulsating crimson.
There is a ‘thunk’ of machinery whirring into life, what had looked like a solid sheet of metal bends and folds, collapsing upwards into the ceiling, warm air spilling out alongside a comforting amber luminescence.
The amber light moves oddly. Almost seeming to have a strange mass. It flows out of the opening, then up. Twisting and splitting in the air as it pours into an invisible mold. Filling it out to the shape of....
A faceless woman made of amber light stands demurely in front of you, hands clasped in front. She seems to focus on Salt and bows deep.
Welcome new oathbearer. And thank you for opening my cell. My name is Gaia. How may I help you?
Salt beamed. This was straight out of one of the stories she'd read in that little bookshop a year ago. In as officious a voice as she could muster:
Greetings Gaia. Status report.
The words send shivers down her arms.
I should get a captain's hat!
Ouroboros watched the events unfold with a bemused expression. This sort of technology was well outside his comfort zone, and he was content to hang back and observe.It was Salt that amused him the most. Whilst it was true that he had "turned" her, she was not like him. He considered himself an artist, each stroke painted in blood, carefully planned and positioned for the greatest effect. Salt his counterpoint, she was an excitable puppy. Destructive almost as a side effect of her joy. He took great delight in watching her work, even if her reckless behaviour resulted in the occasional singeing of his favourite cloak.
Gerome jumped at the load noise of the machinery clunking into place, and found himself unconsciously cowering behind Ouroboros, who was watching the events with a strange expression on his lightly scaled face.
The appearance of the orange lady drew the little gnomes attention from the anti-paladin. Gaia? Did this ring a bell? Gerome thought back on all the preparation and research he did before he set off on his travels, many moons ago...
The faceless figure shifts slightly, features slowly sinking into place, though she remains encased in an amber hue the woman? now looks far more human.
She smiles, sadly.
Status oathbearer? Much as I would love to inform you all was well I think we both can tell this is simply not the case. My Solaris has been damaged - likely well beyond the point of possible repair. The shards are almost all broken or destroyed so my functionality is limited. All two thousand six hundred and thirty seven previous oathbearers are long dead. My lack of origin point suggests the City of Stars no longer exists in recognisable form and I have been trapped in my cell for long enough that my patience with counting the days expired decades ago...
She sags, then straightens up, seeming to snap herself back to attention. The smile seems deliberately more chipper now.
Still, none of that is any real problem of yours now is it oathbearer? I can find no trace of what caused the original damage to my Solaris and whilst most space available is somewhat uninhabitable I was able to channel a significant portion of the kinetic energy of...the unknown impact earlier into jumpstarting the other doors in my cell. I'm not permitted to open them myself - but you most certainly can. Mostly storage, I know what was listed on being in them though I have my doubts as to their veracity, you may find something useful.
Her smiling facade cracks, just a little.
I...I am willing to allow you to take what you wish from the ship Oathbearer... (only now does she enunciate that word like a title) Though to do so without activating the negative consequences of your oath will require me to...
She screws up her face, evidently finding the next few words distasteful in the extreme.
To activate procedures for total cell integrity loss. This should release any and all limitations on the judgement of the crew - which you qualify as now by the way - and hopefully mitigate the worst of the other restrictions, allowing you unlimited access...
This procedure will also...also delete... me.
She looks Salt in the eyes.
So I have a favor to ask. May I come with you?
Salt muses for only a few seconds before a cascade of words tumblr from her mouth, just about in the right order.
You’re, I mean, you smart? You’re sentient. I’m sorry, I thought... No, never mind, I got excited and thought...
Is that possible? If it is, yes. Yes! I always wanted a glowy friend!
BZZT gathers his breath to cover his shock, then bows to Gaia.
I think my companion would be honoured t’have you join us. If that is a possible thing?
And can I render y’some mechanical assistance? Never fixed a “Solaris” but I’d be willin’ to try...