After Zhao’s attempts to arrange the plates, Cassian takes over but has no better luck arranging them into a line. Not can he see any differences between the images of Honaria on the front of the plates, the picture appears identical on each.
Deciding that there are already enough pairs of hands down in the cellars, Ash makes their way back up to the ground floor of the cathedral. Following Valicus’ instructions, they move through a couple of display rooms before spotting the bust. It’s sat on a pedestal with a perfunctory rope around it, but as there’s nothing really preventing it, not anybody else in the room, they carefully pick it up and give it a thorough look for wear and tear, detail on the base. It seems to be in decent condition, which is perhaps one of the reasons that it is on display, with no obvious signs that Brother Valicus or anybody else has performed any repairs. The base is inscribed with Honaria’s name, along with the date 4088, and the name Cispia Buteo, presumably that of the sculptor. No hidden compartments and no obvious secrets, as far as Ash can tell the bust is exactly what it appears to be.
Furrowing his brow, Zhao fishes in his pocket for his notebook again, pulling out six pages. "Hold on - I think I might have something." Laboriously kneeling again, he places the pages over the backsides of the plates, carefully copying the shapes and lines with careful, precise pencil strokes.
Once he's done, he holds the pages up to a lantern, turning them this way and that - the light from the lantern filters through the thin paper, letting the kitsune see the contents of all six pages simultaneously, and he rotates them in an attempt to combine them into a coherent map, focusing on continuity of the lines. Tilting his head to one side, he examines his best result, squinting. "Certain surveyor's tools from my homeland work something like this. The lens itself is inscribed with reference markings - for distance, height, that sort of thing - so that one can see the markings and the terrain itself at the same time." Shrugging, he glances over at Victrio. "What do you think? Does this look a little more like a map to you?"
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Zhao's idea is a clever one. Under the light of the projector, when taken together, the six disparate patterns from the reverse of the plates overlay each other in order to form a single image, one that does indeed look like a map.
“The map, I just now realise, is both relatively small in scale and close to home. Given the coastline, what can only be Oppara sits towards the bottom left quadrant, while the 'X' - presumably a destination of some importance - lies to the northeast, somewhere towards the foothills at the southwestern tip of the World's Edge Mountains!“
She looks at the others.
“This could be another location where our attention is needed?!?“
"It feels ironic that those are called the 'World's Edge' Mountains, when we have in our number citizens of the world beyond the edge of the map." Neriros quips as the puzzle at last is solved and the next leg of their journey revealed. "Well done, Zhao, I admit I would never have thought of that solution, not in a timely manner, at least. Do we know of anyone who has more knowledge of the marked region?"
"Clever! Clever, Master Zhao!" Victrio says with a grin. Alright it'd be better if HE'D figured it out but at least it wasn't Neriros...
"...wait, now we're going to-- the World's Edge? Isn't that-- really far away?"
A short boat trip had seemed like a lot. Victrio's eyes widen with a comic level apprehension. Comic if you're not him, anyway.
"...wait, now we're going to-- the World's Edge? Isn't that-- really far away?"
Zhao furrows his brow, looking closer at the map.
"You're thinking of the Crown of the World, I think, Master Victrio. The World's Edge Mountains are only a couple of prefectures away, a few days at most up the Porthmos. It's more a question of terrain than distance, if memory serves - it's hard to cross them, and the lands beyond are only really inhabited by the Tzorehiyi nomads. It's the edge of the world insofar as the Avistani way of life is concerned. We might be better-served catching a riverboat to a city closer to the mountains, seeing if any of the inhabitants might be willing to serve as a guide before we trek the rest of the way. We may want to fetch some provisions first, though." His stomach growls slightly, and he clears his throat. "...And perhaps a blueberry pie." Unlike Victrio, Zhao is reasonably well-traveled - certainly at least from Lingshen to Taldor - so the proposition of a trek across several provinces seems relatively mundane to him.
"It feels ironic that those are called the 'World's Edge' Mountains, when we have in our number citizens of the world beyond the edge of the map."
Zhao grins, glancing at the cleric. "Oh come now, Father Neriros - we scribes must be allowed some artistic license! 'The Great Northeastern Mountain Range' just doesn't look the same on a map. It lacks a certain... gravitas."
"We might be better-served catching a riverboat to a city closer to the mountains, seeing if any of the inhabitants might be willing to serve as a guide before we trek the rest of the way."
Unlike young Master Sullus, Ash smiles slightly at the prospect of another journey. For one thing, they'll surely need to acquire horses as well as a guide wherever they debark from that riverboat. And on that note...
They extend a finger to trace the Porthmos' course upriver from Oppara. "We could certainly take a boat as far as Khazun City. Settlements of any size are pretty sparse after that, at least until you get to Karakuru."
Cass regards the antiquated map, "No more than a short jaunt certainly. And since this is all about Honaria," he tings one of the plates lightly with a manicured nail, "...and is located at the 'edge of the world' where exiles are probably expected to go... I imagine this is the location of a way-marker, her home-in-exile, or her tomb. Possibly all three." Slipping back into his Oppara role somewhat, he adds, "Perhaps we'll hold a seance and speak to the old girl herself! Hear the story from the horse's mouth, so to speak."
In response to Neriros’ question, it turns out that both Ash and Zhao have some knowledge of the region between your location and the vast mountain range. In the grand scheme of things it is a relatively short journey, but that does somewhat depend on your perspective. For Zhao, who has crossed continents in the name of duty, it is but a short hop. On the other end of the spectrum, for Victrio, whose geographic horizons have largely been confined to the walls of Oppara, it no doubt feels much further. As to what exactly you might find there, the map does not make that clear. Still, Cassian has a few suggestions, all of which sound perfectly plausible.
With your mission at the cathedral accomplished, and your next destination set, it’s time to make preparations and secure provisions for the journey. Similarly, you have a choice of transport methods: boat upriver and then horses, or horseback all the way.
“I vote for the riverboat, at least as far as possible. It should be faster and easier than spending several days in the saddle, which I suspect at least one of us will appreciate.”
"I cannot argue that point, Zhao."
"I concur with Lady Serrana. Riverboat as far as we might. I, for one, do not mind water travel."
Victrio makes no response to whether or not he was thinking of the Crown of the World or not. These mountains are FAR ENOUGH.
....and Livia appears to have noticed his distaste for horse-riding. Wonderful, he is failing at seeming competent! Victrio grinds his teeth slightly and rubs a hand over his face.
"Well. Yes. The boat's more comfortable for as long as it's feasible. Now, our employer booked the last one- should we ask him about doing so again? I'm not sure how much that sort of thing.... costs."
The sheltered city boy is, yes, still sheltered.
"Well. Yes. The boat's more comfortable for as long as it's feasible. Now, our employer booked the last one- should we ask him about doing so again? I'm not sure how much that sort of thing.... costs."
"Clearing his illustrious ancestor's name is Alcasti's quest after all. I'm sure he'll foot the bill for it." Ash bounces on their toes a bit, eager to move forward now that they have a direction. "Shall we go find our employer then?"
After sending Remaio word that you’ve made some progress and have a new destination in mind, he replies to say that he’s otherwise engaged this evening but would be delighted to meet tomorrow morning. Having relayed the key points, he’s delighted with the recovery of the plates in the depths of the Basilica of the Last Man and the discovery of their hidden map.
Zhao is able to demonstrate how the map was pieced together, as well as a freshly tracing from the six pieces of the finished article. ”Fascinating,” Remaio says enthusiastically, ”you’ve done very well.” He then produces a map of his own, a large-scale one focusing on the southern range of the World’s Edge Mountains. ”As you mentioned the destination, I thought this would come in handy,” he says, unrolling it and weighing down the four corners with various items at hand.
”Now obviously we have a general idea where you’re heading but your map lacks precision and this is still going to be a large area to be looking for whatever it is we’re looking for. Having procured this, I do have a suggestion.” He taps the map, pointing at a hill labelled as Hepasia’s Fist. ”I had come across a reference to this name in a book that mentioned Honaria some time ago but it gave no context as to what it was or why it was relevant. Having now seen it on the map, it seems there’s a reasonable chance that there could be a connection and that what we’re seeking could be found there. Or so it seems to me, anyway” He shrugs, though the excitement on his face remains.
Victrio’s fears about the travel costs are allayed in exactly the way Ash said they would be as Remaio is willing to foot the bill. ”I’m still tied up with business at the moment so I probably shouldn’t take time off for another trip so soon after our previous adventure but I’m confident you’ll continue to do great work towards clearing Honaria’s name.”
"Hepasia's Fist it is! Tomorrow morning then, people? Just enough time for me to bathe and have my clothes laundered."
Livia is definitely ready to go!
Much like your sea voyage, once again you find yourself plying a very well-used trade route. The massive Royal Canal stands as testament to Taldan engineering: 100 feet wide and running fully 140 miles from Oppara to the foothills of the World’s Edge Mountains, where snowmelt feeds the canal and powers an ingenious series of locks and pumps unparalleled in Avistan. Its primary purpose is to supply the capital with the grain, flax and other foodstuffs grown in Kazuhn prefecture, the breadbasket of Taldor. As such, the canal is constantly filled with long, flat-bottomed barges, making it a simple task to secure passage north and east aboard one.
Travel is steady and as you slip further from Oppara it is not so long before the urban centres disappear and you are surrounded almost exclusively by farmland and orchards, enormous operations almost exclusively part of sprawling noble estates.
Given the importance of the canal and the volume of traffic, you are unsurprised to see a heavy Phalanx and Royal Navy presence as you go. More concerningly, if not necessarily surprisingly, you pick up from some of the barge workers that river pirates are a regular threat, as are saboteurs, criminals and dissidents looking for a way to make easy money or capture Oppara’s attention. Fortunately, as you drift between enormous plantations of apple and pear trees and vast fields of wheat, the strong military presence, or perhaps simple good fortune, your journey remains pleasantly uneventful.
The primary waypoint you pass through is Eagle’s Head, though in truth it is more of a seasonal artists’ fair than a true settlement. Built around a massive amphitheatre, performers, artisans, and sizeable crowds flock to the place during the summer months. It’s early in the season so things are not fully in swing but there is a bustle and energy to the place as vendors compete for trade and unknown performers take slots on the bill in the hope of creating a name for themselves and the patronage and fortune that may follow.
Beyond Eagle’s Head, the World’s Edge Mountains that have been looming on the horizon as a dark smudge for much of the journey begin to rise and form an imperious wall worthy of their name as the distance between you and them shrinks. By the time you reach the foothills and the canal cuts through an increasingly challenging path, the mighty peaks are towering overhead. Despite the spring season, there is a definite freshness to the air and both the traffic and settlements have notably thinned out by the time you reach the far end of the Royal Canal. The impressive construction that powers the canal is an obvious target for attack so there is a permanent unit of Phalanx stationed here, along with a small number of amenities to support them. Beyond that, however, much like your expedition into the Verduran Forest, you have the distinct impression that once more you are leaving civilisation behind.
Livia enjoys the journey along the Royal Canal.
”The Royal Canal is one of Taldor’s greatest engineering achievements, and it is remarkable how much of Oppara’s food supply depends on this single waterway.”
She points out the extensive noble estates along the banks and explains how the grain and other agricultural products of Kazuhn prefecture are transported to the capital.
”With so much wealth passing through here, it is hardly surprising that pirates and other criminals are attracted to the canal, though the Phalanx and Royal Navy seem to keep things reasonably secure!! It is rather nice to see a place where talent might earn someone recognition regardless of their family name, even if noble patronage still plays a considerable role!“
As the mountains grow closer, her attention shifts to the impressive locks and pumps that keep the canal functioning despite the increasingly difficult terrain.
”So the military presence here makes perfect sense, since damaging these installations could disrupt trade and food deliveries to Oppara, but beyond this point we should expect far fewer settlements and considerably less protection! Okay, so let us see another piece of Honaria’s story!“
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The brief time back in the city allows a chance to visit home...
"So, you're all done? How did it go? You're in one piece."
"I'm-- NOT done, it went-- horribly, the woods are full of spiders and murderous druids and there's this Abadaran along who thinks he's smarter than me-- and we found a murder--"
"Okay you are going to have to start at the beginning, little brother--"
She listens, as he vents, and if Sullia knows her brother well enough to know that the Abadaran-rivalry might be in fact only in his own head she doesn't point it out. His lack of enthusiasm for further travel is plain on his face, but Sullia just laughs and socks him 'lightly' in the arm.
"It's good for you. I wouldn't mind getting out of the city, getting to see what you're seeing!"
"I'd swap," he groans. "My ass-- Sul, I didn't know I could be SORE in some of those spots on my ass. Riding is the worst."
Mercilessly, she laughs again. "Come on. I'll make dinner. Fortify you for further ass-pain. Father will want to hear all you've seen as well!"
A night in his own bed, blissful, perfect. It's going to have to last him for a while....
In the middle of the night Victrio rolls over-- sees the dead kobold lying in bed next to him, staring up at the bedroom ceiling-- and curses roundly, attacking it with his pillow until the spectre fades. So much for a good night's sleep.
He does an exceptionally excellent job of remembering to pack!
****
Once more at the docks... though Victrio is somewhat pleasantly surprised by the barge trip. It's a lot more sedate than out on the open ocean, and he doesn't even get seasick once. The young man spends his time watching the countryside roll by, unhurried, with occasional time spent studying his spellbook to keep up appearances.
Victrio indulgently agrees with Livia's assessments, feeling unthreatened by her knowledge as long as he beats Neriros to it. "Just so, miss Serrana, just so. One wonders what subterfuge is afoot here in Eagle's Head-- as we all know, no doubt, it's a hotbed of intrigues and would-be counterculture elements... a pity we can't take in the, uh, the, the sights, as it were, but our mission brooks-- no delay, a-ha..."
Still, he is a bit nervous as they are once again leaving the protected areas behind. Fortify, Victrio! Great deeds await!
Neriros will also lament being on a time crunch as they pass through Eagle's Head. The civilized rural region held a charming aesthetic for the coastal raised young man, and the missed chance of observing artists and actors while tasting the fruits of the region's labor seemed like such a waste. He'll clap a hand on Victrio's shoulder as the 'wizard' voices their shared desires on shore.
"Quite astute observations, Lady Serrana. It's a pity I haven't seen more of this side of the Empire." He'll take a deep breath through the nose as a breeze carries the smell of fruit trees across the Canal's waters. "I shall make a note to come back through next year, should I have the opportunity."
It’s a good job that you have a map because out here one hill does tend to look rather like another. Some of them seem to be named for people, other names appear to come from their features, or perhaps a resemblance to a particular object. To your eyes, however, this last presumably holds true only if you view them from precisely the right angle, or if you squint a bit, or have drunk exactly one quart of wine. And even here in the lower reaches, the hills look fearsome enough, indeed might be described by some as low mountains. What the difference between them is remains a question for sages, but you hope you won’t have to spend too long trekking around, or indeed up and down, them.
One of the Taldan Phalanx is able to confirm that you are heading in the right direction as you leave, but small as the outpost is, it’s clear that it very much was the last bastion of civilisation in the face of the forbidding and seemingly endless mountains ranging to your north. As such, your journey through the foothills of the World’s Edge Mountains is uncannily desolate, and a lonely pall hangs over the trip. On the plus side, compared to the trek into the Verduran Forest, teeming as it was with all kinds of life, there might not be any people but there’s not a lot else around that might bother you. Beyond a limited amount of wildlife that is happy to give you a wide berth, you spy somewhere in the distance a small flock of winged creatures that you’re sure are not birds, but whatever they might be, they’re too far away to be a threat and they soon vanish into the clouds above.
As gloom starts to roll down from the mountains above, you realise that you’ll need to stop pretty soon. With no light getting lost seems almost guaranteed and the conditions are decidedly different from an amble up the road to your favourite watering hole in Oppara. It’s a chilly night of camping but during the breaks in the cloud cover you are treated to a spectacular view of the stars wheeling overhead. Your luck holds, too, and it passes uneventfully. Shaking out somewhat numb limbs, you cram some rations down and are glad to get the blood flowing again once you continue on your way.
You arrive at the hill. It is a hill. Hepasia’s Fist, when you reach it, closely resembles the majority of the rest of the hills you have skirted. Mercifully it is a lower peak than some of them, but who Hepasia might have been and why it bears her name and a part of her anatomy is not immediately obvious and most likely lost to the sands of time. It’s certainly remote, so if that was a key criterion for whatever it is connected to Honaria that you’re seeking, this place more than adequately meets it.
As for how to find your objective, there is one obvious way: hard yards and careful observation. It takes a few hours of slowly circumnavigating the hill, poking into crevices and investigating scraggly patches of trees, anything that looks like it could potentially hide a secret really, before you uncover one. Down a dip and behind a pair of sizeable boulders, you discover the entrance to a cave.
Livia looks up at the unremarkable hill, then back at the map, wondering what could possibly have brought Honaria to such a remote place.
"Well, if someone wanted to hide something from the rest of Taldor, I can hardly imagine a better location."
She then casts detect magic, and scans the entrance of the cave and the visible interior for any magical auras before anyone ventures further inside.
Cassian initially enjoys the river journey but turns somber and thoughtful after they pass the third crumbling town. His only comment is, ”Even the owners have left their properties for Oppara. They’ve lost touch with their people and their lands.”
He shakes off his reverie when they begin exploring the hills. When they find the cave, his enthusiasm drives him to be the first to enter… although he does so cautiously.
Effects: none
As Cassian makes his way into the cave, tentatively at first, then with more like his usual confidence as there are no obvious signs of either current occupants or that anything has been dwelling inside recently. The narrow entrance bends sharply around to the left and what little natural light is able to make its way in is quickly swallowed by the blackness beyond.
With an adequate source of light, the cave widens a little but really remains more of a passage than a chamber. The lack of space is one obvious reason why the cave may be devoid of occupants. Likewise, although you have only been inside for a very short period, your clothing already feels superficial damp to the touch. At the far end the route curves round to the right and Cassian carefully pads around, keeping his wits about him. He needn’t have worried, however, as after the way has almost completely bent back upon itself, it ends abruptly.
In the torchlight, a faded white marble entrance emerges from the shadows, its slick surface glowing softly where it is not discoloured. Two composite columns frame a tarnished silver door with heavy, if rusty, hinges. The moisture-streaked relief of a pegasus head sits in place of a keyhole. Unless you are very much mistaken, this has the appearance of a tomb and the Alcasti symbol in the form of the pegasus suggests you have found your destination.
Livia follows Cassian into the cave, and keeps her scimitar ready.
"The Alcasti symbol! I think we may finally have found Honaria's tomb. Taldan nobles often built their tombs in remote places to protect them from grave robbers, particularly as the empire began to decline. Unfortunately, they also had a habit of protecting their tombs with magical curses and guardians, so I strongly suggest we do not simply try to force this door open without checking for traps."
Livia concentrates on her detect magic spell.
Cassian rubs his fingers together, finding the damp - with no obvious cause – troubling. Before the silver door, the baronet’s caution increases. He has no desire to violate a tomb unnecessarily. He looks around the corridor first before carefully examining the door itself.
After the attempts at ambush previously encountered, Neriros will load and cradle his crossbow. Otherwise he will remain out of the way of those more talented in disarming traps and wait for a need for his skills.
Other than the door, and a growth of moss that you passed near the entrance, the cave appears to be devoid of anything else at all. With Livia’s warning in mind, Cassian inspects the door, being careful not to touch it. It does not therefore register as a huge surprise to discover that the pegasus’ head is trapped and touching it would lead to a nasty electrical shock to whoever did so.
Cass can’t explain the moisture but he knows a trap when he finds it. ”I think touching the pegasus will deliver an electric jolt… but I might be able to avoid it.” He pulls his tools out and tries to disarm the trap.
Victrio swallows as Cassian points out a trap - he steps back to give the other man a wide berth. While also noting their lordling does have certain very interesting skills.
Cassian initially enjoys the river journey but turns somber and thoughtful after they pass the third crumbling town. His only comment is, ”Even the owners have left their properties for Oppara. They’ve lost touch with their people and their lands.”
Ash glances at Cassian with one eyebrow raised. Not the sort of sentiment or demeanor they'd expect from an insouciant noble fop ... but perhaps they shouldn't be surprised by now.
Since Cassian takes over point on entering the cavern, Ash follows behind him, brushing damp from their leathers. At the discovery of the door and its potentially nasty surprise, they join Victrio in taking a step back to give Cass room and pulls out their own tools in case a second pair of eyes and hands might be helpful.
It takes a minute or two but Cassian is able to figure out the inner workings of the trap without too much difficulty. Inserting a slender wire with a hooked end into one of the pegasus' nostrils, he is able to carefully bring down an equally slim copper string. Picking up a specially designed pair of heavy duty scissors he cuts it with a satisfying snip.
A couple of seconds later there is an elongated creaking noise that probably isn't actually that loud but sounds like it in the cramped cave. A small square of the door that the equine head is mounted on slowly opens to reveal a physical depression the size and shape of a left hand.
The baronet grins, more than a little pleased with his success. Realising belatedly he may have outed himself, he tosses off an offhand remark to explain away his skill. ”My youthful truancy pays off!”
He quickly changes the subject with a frown at seeing the hand-print. ”This could be yet another defense, not just a fancy doorknob.” He examines the print carefully.
The impression appears to be merely that of a generic hand shape. There are no distinguishing features, just a smooth indent that gives nothing away in terms of whether it was anybody's hand in particular, though based on what you can see you'd lean towards probably not.
Cassian can't see anything that suggests another trap in or around the hand, or indeed the rest of the door.
"It would be a shame if we needed someone of the Alcasti bloodline to place their hand on the imprint to open a door." Neriros quips, tightening his lips at the unending parade of puzzles.
"It would be a shame if we needed someone of the Alcasti bloodline to place their hand on the imprint to open a door." Neriros quips, tightening his lips at the unending parade of puzzles.
”Is that even possible? Time to find out!” With a bit of a devil-may-care grin, he slaps his hand against the imprint and tries to push or turn the print.
"Hang on, let me take a closer look here..." Ash takes Cassian's place in front of the door and closely examines the hand imprint.
Just as Cassian is sizing up the imprint to make his move, Ash double checks the door, wanting to ensure that nothing had slipped by the nobleman. They don’t find anything, however, and step back again with a nod.
As Cassian firmly places his palm into the largest part of his impression and then splays his fingers into the correct grooves, he feels the metal of the door beneath his hand warm at his touch. It’s nowhere near enough to hurt, but it takes willpower not to recoil. After a couple of heartbeats Neriros’ fear about bloodlines proves unfounded and with a heavy grating sound, the door swings inward.
The inside of the tomb is as dark as the cave would be without your lights. Beyond the door, a passage extends for about ten feet before turning at a right-angle to the right.
Livia nods at the group and moves forward to peer around the corner to search for further information and traps.
Ash follows Livia, eager to see what they'll find within.
Weapon in hand: Kukri
Effects:
Cass moves along the corridor looking for trouble.
The tomb is chilly and dark. As you turn the corner, you observe that your feet are leaving prints in the solid layer of dust coating the floor. If anybody has been here in years, probably decades, perhaps even centuries, there’s no obvious sign.
On your right a large granite tablet covered with names and dates stands in the centre of a small room open from the corridor, though to all intents and purposes it's less of a room and more a glorified alcove. Inspecting the tablet, grimy and faded as it is, you quickly ascertain that it provides a chronological record of the Alcastis buried within the tomb. About halfway down the stone the list stops, ending with “Honaria Alcasti, 4049 AR–4123 AR.” It seems an apt metaphor: the tomb, like the Alcasti line, feels very much like it simply faded into obscurity.
An open doorway past the tablet leads into a larger chamber. A statue of a soaring pegasus rises above the pool of stagnant water in the centre of the room. The water is dusty and still, leading further credence to the idea that nobody has set foot within the tomb for a very long time.
Cass regards the tablet, blows some of the dust off, and does the math. ”74 years old – that’s a good run. What year was she exiled – around ’91? So… she fought for the crown into her early 40’s, then gets exiled for another 30-ish years. Rough.” Just because it’s in his nature, he checks to see if there is anything behind the tablet before calling to Neriros and Zhao, ”If either of you have charcoal, maybe get an imprint of the last few lines of the tablet? Remaio might appreciate it… and we might need evidence we were here.”
He moves on to the ‘Pegasus Pond’ as he calls it in his head. He overlooks the pond’s function, finding the layer of dust on the water vaguely unappealing. He focuses instead on a sweep of the room for dangers or objects of interest. Maybe there is some writing on the back of one of these columns?
Neriros doesn't have charcoal, but he does have his journal and dutifully begins transcribing the tablet's inscriptions. Zoning in on the scribing process, he is oblivious to everything else in the tomb.
Victrio is absorbed in the heavy weight of ghosts that seems to permeate the space to his particular senses-- as always, the question of whether or not they're REAL in any meaningful way is, perhaps, moot. He mutters under his breath, wipes clammy sweat from his forehead....
"Y-yes, a rubbing would be good-- I'll commit it all to memory, as well...."
He stands before the tablet, dark eyes roaming the dates and record, placing the details away in the safe space of his internal memory palace for future recall as needed.
The pegasus earns a glance-- and a quick mutter to detect magic. "Rather like an, ah, ah overgrown version of that little statue, eh, Ash?"
"Rather like an, ah, ah overgrown version of that little statue, eh, Ash?"
"That it is." Ash walks a slow circle around the statue, then stops, shaking their head. "What could possibly be the point of installing a fountain in a tomb? I guess it's just one of those things that happen when people have more money than sense." They shrug. "And then it broke down anyway when the money ran out."
Livia suddenly transforms into her fox form and let’s her hand glide over her fur.
”Let us move forward!“
She then moves to the next door that they have not investigated and checks it for traps.
In case she does not find any traps, she will open the door.
A sweep of the rooms throws up nothing beyond what you could immediately see, nor does Victrio’s search for magic find anything. Taking the details of the memorial tablet down, however, is a smart idea. Satisfied that you have exhausted what there is to see, you open the next door.
Sombre statues of Alcastis past line this hallway, their hands broken apart and lying at their feet. A pile of shattered rubble lies strewn across the floor, the stone pierced through with
abandoned spears and swords, the weapons bearing the now-familiar pegasus crest. The air is thick with dust and neglect and beyond the pairs of silent stone watchers, another door at the far end.