And there was light.

Dim but warm, unlike the unobtrusive light of the motes this light illuminated clearly what it touched, revealing the once grand hall of chambers now old, crumbling to rubble as new life grew within. There was sound, crumbling stones, the buzzing of insects, the flickering of flame, the drip of water, and the life of rats. There was feeling, the feel of a fall, and the splash of old, cold water upon the body as smooth stone caught it.

The doors swung open and one after another they fell out into the hallway, splashing as they hit the algae laden stones, the water thick with larvae and dim born plants. Lining the walls of the hall were stone chambers, tombs, that had held each of them before opening. Most of these chambers were still closed, a choice few others were open, and other still were crushed where the ceiling above had caved in under the weight of further tombs. Each stone chamber appeared to be an almost egg shaped dark coffin, with their doors cracked and crumbled. At least, the open ones were like that. The closed ones seemed more solid, as if a single stone, and the crushed ones were but piles of rubble.

The light danced along the walls, various flickering flames from mounted torches, dividing the chambers from another. Torch, tomb, torch, tomb, torch, and the skittering sound of rats amongst all of them. They squeaked, rushing from where the doors of stone broke and living bodies fell out from their stasis, the new life greeted more intimately by mosquitoes and flies. Ragged robes of different colours adorned each as they came to their feet. Green, blues, orange, and more. One would notice that the colour of their mote reflected the colour of their old garbs now. Further, they had neither keepsake nor memento from the time in the dark, they came into this world unarmed.

The flooded hall was rather narrow, wide enough for perhaps three men to stand side by side as they walked, and the water was stagnant and still, letting loose an unpleasant odor. Occasionally, a drop of water would fall from above, sliding through weathered stones to the pool around the awoken. No hole was quite large enough for a body to move through, as they were either small, or the collapsed structure closed the hole it made as well, the heavy weight crushing down upon the hall and its contents. Otherwise a growth, vines or the roots of a tree perhaps, clogged what was viable.

Off to one side was the end of the hall, a rounded dead end upon which stood a solitary statue that had fallen to disrepair with time. The upper body and torso of it were dashed upon the ground as the legs stood alone, broken and cracked behind it. Sockets, empty and scratched up lined the wall behind the statue, shallow holes where the stone was now chipped away. Each chip was mostly along the edges, further into the sockets the stone was smoother and less disturbed. The other side held more of the stretched hall for several paces, but the end was in sight where it opened into a larger chamber. The contents of the chamber could not be quite seen from the present location.

Samsa fell to his knees in the tainted water. Did my cell flood in my sleep? he thought, stirring the water underneath him with his hand. When he picked up his head, he found he was not in his prison any longer. Standing up, he peered to the left and right to see others around him, seeming to have burst forth from black pods. He looked up and around, scanning the pod he stood beneath, and realized that he had arrived the same way.

He stepped out into the hallway, his bare feet splashing in the water, finding a lengthy strip of a stone hallway, not unlike his prison. This place is flooded, he thought, which means I must be underground. He concluded that he must have moved somewhere, unless the entire city was sunken one hundred and fifty feet below the sea, a sea which he was not held anywhere near. He inhaled the rancid odor which filled the place; there were no windows here either. As he cautiously trudged further into the hallway, a drop of water dripped into his eye. Reflexively looking down, he found his age worn prisoner's rags were gone. In their stead, Samsa was dressed in a matching, ominously dark top and bottom. The top was loose, open, and sleeveless, while the bottom was ruggedly cut above his ankles, which was convenient for the situation at hand.

Cheap and thin material though it was, it was new and refreshing. The black color was clear and solid, not faded by ages of wear, and contrasted with his pasty skin. It summoned images of his surreal journey in the darkness. He was reminded of his mother's beads, which he no longer had dangling in front of his chest. He thought, therefore, that it must have been a dream, and someone had relocated him in his sleep... and dressed him.

A crumbled statue at the end of the hallway attracted his eye. He waded through the water, not noticing the others in the hallway, to observe it more closely. He found the upper body collapsed on the floor, while only the figure's legs remain standing. He ran his hands over it and certainly looked it over thoroughly to discover who the statue was supposed to represent, but a lifetime in prison provides little knowledge of the outside world. The figure's name would likely be of no use to him.

Kalia rose from the slick stone floor cautiously, looking around at the others who she found herself with. She backed away from them until she felt a wall behind her. One of them moved away, a darkly dressed man who moved toward a toppled statue, and that was a relief. These strangers could be any kind of people, and Kalia was not eager to discover how cruel they might be. The ephemeral confidence she'd worked up in that strange dream, or whatever it had truly been, was entirely gone now, along with the objects she'd acquired there.

Except perhaps that wasn't entirely true. As she examined herself to see if she'd been harmed, and to see if she still had her father's knife, Kalia found that she was wearing purple clothing. It was far nicer than anything she owned, and more colorful as well. Her normal garb was rough linen of earthy colors, so she had no idea where the nicer purple outfit had come from. For a moment she wished she could see how she looked, how the somewhat fancy clothing looked on her short and thin frame, but her mind returned to important matters soon enough. Such nonsense could wait until she was out of... wherever she was, and away from... whoever those people were.

Rather than moving toward the statue, Kalia went the opposite way from the man in dark clothes. There was another hall that way, with an opening to another room at the end of it. That seemed the most likely path to find a way out, so on she went. As she neared the other room her cautious instincts took over, and she slowed to examine the room before moving into it.

Theon inspects the walls about her before sighing and crouching upon the floor, uncaring if she were to get wet. She inspects her grey robes in the flickering firelight before reaching out and grabbing a jagged piece of stone that came to a point. Biting her lip, she tears at the cloth. Once. Then a second time. With the first, it was a simply long strip that she ties off into a makeshift sling. With the other, she ties it about her waist like an impromptu pouch and begins to fill with fairly sized stones to fit into her rough-made sling. As she finishes her task, she reaches up and grabs the torch from outside her chamber, robes now just below her knees before moving back into her chamber.

With each step, she tries to work out what had happened before and after but she had little in the way of memories still. All she could remember was the strange reality with the motes. These must be the others the keykeeper had talked of. It stood to reason they all had similar experiences in the world of motes as well. Under her breath, though, she curses the abysmal mote. It had promised to give her something of hers back and something new. She sighs and stops in her tracks before the pod. If the objects were there, then perhaps she would thank the mote. If not, it was an abysmal liar and she would be hardpressed to forget it. If she ended back in that afterlife again, she would end up the personal poultergeist, tormenting the lights til the end of time. That would show them!

As she searches over the pod she had been within, she grimaces. Nothing was within the pod, but curious enough... It felt nothing like stone. Instead, it felt more akin to the surface of a smoothly flowing stream. She gets the sense there was a lot of arcane nonsense going into each of these pods, outrageously powerful at that. However, there was little more she could figure out, not even what sort of magic was at play, if it even was magic. She frowns before turning to leave. She looks down the one way, to the man inspecting over the broken statue at the dead end. She narrows her eyes at his stopping to peruse the dilapidated architecture when from the look of things, the ceiling might cave in at any moment. Instead, she pursuits after the woman in purple with quick, light steps. That one had the right sense of things. Better to leave this apparent tomb while they still had the chance.

The cold splash of the water seemed to awaken Carl-Johan as if from a dream. Finally, the darkness was gone and in its stead, the warm glow of torchlight lit the hallway that he was unceremoniously dumped in. After the light, the first thing that Carl-Johan noticed was the his bow and staff were no longer in his grasp. He felt around in the water, and upon not finding them, stood. He looked down, and noticed he was dressed in all green. He wore loose pants with a sleeveless tunic belted at the waist. Suddenly, he grabbed at his neck, feeling for something that was no longer there. A small swear escaped his lips, and he almost collapsed back in the murky water. It was gone too.

Bracing himself against the wall, Carl-Johan finally noticed the others in the hallway. A man in black had wandered over to the collapsed statue at one end, while a woman in purple had headed what appeared to be out of the hall and into the next room. The woman in grey intrigued him a bit. She didn't seem to be phased by the sudden jolt into the light, and had already prepared a weapon from her clothing and some stones. She was certainly resourceful, he would give her that. Soon, she too left the hall, following after the woman in purple. The remaining two people in the hall were a woman dressed in orange and a man in deep blue, with maybe a hint of purple. It seems they too were still getting their bearings after being dumped out from similar pods, so Carl-Johan walked a bit closer to the statue at the one end.

He stood a good distance back, looking over the statue, wondering if it held any great significance. Once satisfied, he turned away from the broken idol, and walked past the two figures still in the hall. Careful to not slip and fall on the algae covered floor, he made his way out of the corridor and into the room beyond.

Bjorn welcomed the cold caress of water underfoot, choosing to ignore the fact that it was teaming with a slew of larvae. He was disappointed to find that his shield, quiver, and bow had vanished in the transition between the two realms. Instead, he found himself adorned in a blue tunic and a pair of blue trousers, each with the slightest tinge of purple, the same color as the mote from the other realm. He took a brief glance at the other people in this hallway, noticing that they too were given clothing of various colors and shades. Was it possible that they had all collectively experienced the trials in darkness?

Bjorn turned his attention away from the people and began to survey his surroundings. Dislodging a torch from the wall beside his tomb, he turned towards the end of the hallway with the busted statue. Normally he'd deem examining the statue unworthy of his time and energy, but after going through the mote's trials, he learned that being thorough is never a bad thing. He brushed past the man in green and outright avoided getting near the man in black. He circled the statue twice over, making sure he didn't miss any visual detail. Great, just as he had assumed, the statue had absolutely nothing to it. Bjorn turned away from the statue and followed the remainder of the group towards the chamber at the opposing end of the hallway.

Nymona stumbled back towards the hole she had fallen from, thick roots pressing into her back. Before her, a collection of robed strangers moved around the crumbling hall in utter silence. The waves caused by their shuffling feet washed over the lip of Nymona's alcove, running over her bare feet. Her rags and weapons from before were gone, as well as the wicker doll. A dream? she wondered. Though if that had been a dream, then how had she gotten down here among these people? If it was a dream, why hadn't she woken back in her woods, back in her isolated solace?

She hunched down amidst the roots, exaggerating her already short frame. As she stared at the others wide-eyed, the roots caught and toyed with her hair, hard brown and soft black intermixing. She had already been seen by at least one of them, so there was no point in hiding. Still, she wished the roots would grow over her and shadow her away.

One of the figures, a woman in grey robes began to arm herself as the others moved towards the end of the hall. "Who are you?" She asked in a high voice, "where are you all going?"

The next chamber was larger than it first seemed from within the hall, stretching about two or three times longer across the chamber than the hall was, about. The chamber was very tall, the top of it completely unseen as it stretched beyond comprehension towards the heavens, as diluted sunlight filtered down betwixt the flickering lights of torches that clung to the wall at regular intervals. This chamber was more a tower than a simple room.

Along the edge of the chamber was a walkway, stone floor flooded with water and an irregularly broken fence railing edged that as well, and spouting forth between the stretches of rail were columns holding the platform above up, and providing structure for vines. The railing had been there, to protect against what appeared would have been quite a fall if the water was not at its current level. The vast stretch across the middle of the chamber was mostly empty, save the water the flooded it. While the waters were not crystal clear by any stretch, one could easily look down and see the same walkway and railing below it, and another, and another, and another. The same as above stretching on unto the heavens and the abyss both at once.

Going forth from the chamber at six different angles were hallways, one of them being the one that each of the strangers woke within. Each hall was almost indistinguishable from the others, save an incredibly worn symbol carved in the stone above the entrance into each of them. An icon? An ancient script? It wasn’t clear, the stone faces were worn down, smoothened, their details lost to time.

Vegetation grew forth, sustaining itself upon the deep pool of the water for the most part, but having roots far below. The tops of trees broke the surface of the water at two points, and further below more drowned growth could be seen, aquatic forests and sunken tombs if the halls below had more of the stone chambers that they came from. Besides those growing from below, vines clung and grew into whatever narrow grooves and cracks and holes in the stone that they could. Small flowers grew on narrow frail branches into the rare shades of light from above, and thicker vines sprawled across the ground and ceiling, some hanging over the edge and connecting the fence to the one above it.

There was the call of a bird, somewhere above, a solitary caw. The fluttering of feathers, and the feeling of eyes on the skin. This civilized structure had a full ecosystem within it, plants, bugs, birds, rats. A keen eye would even see fish in the waters, and a nervous ear would hear the hiss of a snake somewhere from within the crag holes of the walls where vines had not yet wormed their way.

There was a seventh archway, present on each level, but it apparently led only into a shallow dead end. It was flanked by stairs up and down, permitting one to climb up at that point before circling the perimeter to whatever hall they wished. The one level with the water and the strangers was two ways over along the right wall, the path down on their own side, the way up on the other.

At least, that’s where it would be.

It seemed that some of the way above had crumbled at some point, and crashed down into the stairs beneath them. The easy way up from this floor was shut, and the way down required some serious lungs.

Theon surveys over the new room, eyes scanning over the walls and the interrupted ascent. Her angular face appears crestfallen as she sighs, her raven black hair beginning to drift before her face and reveal her twin pointed ears as they poke through. She turns to the one who had spoken up, "My name is Theon, and you are starting to sound like one of those damnable lights. No, I do now know how long it has been. Aside from apparently alive and an elf, I've no idea what to call myself either, but obviously we're all part of some ridiculous joke from whatever powers that be." She raises her torch high above her head, stepping out onto the ring that could lead them to the different hallways.

"I know for sure already we've all been there. We've all been a part of it, whatever it may be. I saw it in each of your faces as you took note your stuff is gone too. Those lights were obviously a bunch of trixster wisps out to toy with our heads. Why they saw to spirit us away here, where we were apparently in those enchanted pods, be they magic or not, I don't know why. I don't know a lot of things. And I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm done playing their games and I'm going to find a way out."

Theon moves onward, taking the lead. She considers her possible ways to reach the light at the end of the tunnel, her way out. She huffs as she takes hold of the vines and tests them with her hands. They were strong enough and would hold her at least, she was unsure about the bigger people of the party. If they couldn't follow, who was she to care, though. Steeling herself, she begins to use the vines to hold herself as she makes her way to the top of the rubble pile. Through the gaps here, though they were too small for her yet, she could see the light peering through. She bites her lip before grabbing hold of a sizable chunk before her. Carefully, she maneuvers it out of the way and begins to clear a way for herself to gain access towards the shining light. It was presumably her exit way. Licking her lips, she clears a space large enough for her to slip through before she grasps another vine and tears it free from the wall, allowing herself to wriggle down along its length into the new lit area.

--RPG DURPED--

Samsa arrived into the larger chamber, still entranced. Every moment in the mysterious place highlighted more evidence that he was no longer in a dungeon. The ease with which he walked revealed his lack of shackles, and strangers and wildlife replaced the presence of guards. He looked down at his new, harrowing garb, the tunic and trousers of an unholy mendicant. Many times he turned over his shoulder, waiting for guards to snatch him by his skinny arms, beat him into sobbing submission, and toss him into his cell. With each ginger step on the cold, wet stone, however, he began to believe in his freedom.

He stared blankly at the stranger speaking as she attempted to climb her way out. Feeling confident, he thought he might give it a try after seeing how she fares. For the time being, he looked about at his company, all dressed in strangely monochromatic garb. He didn't give them much more attention, and he moved to the entrances to the hallways and peered into each of them briefly, paying careful attention to the symbols above each doorway. He knew they were faded, and that's precisely why he looked at them closer, but the images never became clearer, no matter how close he looked.

Visiting each hallway, he found each one looked exactly the same as the one he awoke in. Black, tomb-like pods, both open and closed, with a dilapidated statue at its end. His anxiety grew after each hallway, and he began to spend less and less time examining each hallway. How many more of them were there? More importantly, where did they go?

The light in the large room was a great relief to Kalia. She had feared they might be stuck in some kind of tomb, an underground catacomb that would be difficult to find a way out of, but that was apparently not the case. Now she figured they had to be in some ruined palace or castle, which meant they were above ground and simply needed to find a properly sized hole in an outer wall to escape. The sunlight coming in from above meant there was some kind of opening, which meant that escape was indeed possible. The halls leading off in other directions were intriguing, but up was the way to go.

Kalia saw one of the others, the woman in grey who said her name was Theon, trying to make her way up past some rubble. That seemed rather foolish, as there were perfectly good vines they could climb up instead. Kalia walked over to the edge of the water and grabbed some of the plants, tugging them hard to see if they were as strong as they seemed. None of them broke or tore free from above, so she decided they were stable enough for her purposes. The vines were easy enough for her to climb, easier than ropes she had climbed before, but she decided not to test them too far. She made it up to the walkway one level above where she had started and pushed her way past the vines to take a look around this level.

It was much the same as the level below, minus the water. The main change, the one she'd hoped to find, was that the stairs leading up were just fine on this level. Kalia could see the rubble of the stairs heading down and had a momentary thought to help shift some of it away for the woman climbing up, but she decided against it. She did not know these people, nor did she particularly care to stick around and find out, so she headed for the stairs leading upward. She'd climb up to the top of this tower, or as high as her legs would carry her, unless she found some obvious exit before then, and the other five people could follow or look for their own way out as they pleased.

Bjorn was bewildered by the staggering size of the 'chamber' (can't quite call it a chamber if you can't make out the roof), and took to surveying his surroundings with great care. The bustling ecosystem within the chamber provided a sense of comfort, but it also raised an amount of questions; how did the rats, insects, and birds manage to thrive in the cold, wet depths of the ruins, and most importantly, how could the vegetation possibly be this abundant and fruitful with the only form of light being the diluted sunshine from the top of the tower?

'Strange.'

Bjorn tuned into Theon's spiteful speech about the motes, which confirmed his assumption that they had all faced the same tribulations. He briefly pondered what had happened to Theon that made her abhor the motes, but it was none of his business, and he had more important things to attend to before assessing his peers.

His first instinct was to transverse the vines to ascend to the second level as Kalia had done, but he was a massive fellow and it was entirely possible that the vines could snap under his weight. However, this was the easiest solution, and if it failed, he could always come back and reassess. He took a careful grip of the vines with both hands, planted his right foot against the wall, and slowly hoisted his weight upward. The vines held, but he would have to be quick and smart about his ascent. He placed the ball of his left foot onto a thick cluster of vines, and once he was confident that they would hold, he reached up as high as he possibly could and grabbed a handful with his right hand. The vines had begun to unwind and fray, but thankfully he had made it to the second level at this point. He flopped over onto the walkway and whistled in unlikely success, silently hoping that climbing vines wouldn't resurface in the future. He rose to his feet and casually sauntered towards the stairs behind Kalia.

As she realized that the others had little to no interest in each other or her, she began to calm down and step out into the hall. One of the unopened stone tombs caught her eye, and she wondered if perhaps there were more people like themselves suspended inside. She grabbed onto one edge and began to pull with feet planted, but it was too heavy and solid for her by far. If there were more of them, then they would have to wait until their own re-awakening.

She headed out into the central chamber, keeping her distance from those passed still inside the hall. Others were already heading up, with little other choice considering the seemingly bottomless flooding that awaited below. Vaulting the ancient railing, she grabbed onto the thick weave of vines that covered the strange tower and began to ascend.

Used to moving around in unconventional ways, she quickly moved past the other climbers and swung herself onto the third floor above the water. Looking around, she noticed that the narrow passage by the stairs on this level was different from the other levels. Below, they had been nothing but short dead ends flanked by stairs. On this level, the stairs were still there, but the passage was deeper, and she could see a light from behind a stone slab that blocked the rest of the passageway, leaving it's length and end a mystery.

The crazy woman in grey had begun ranting about hatred of the motes from the world of darkness, before she seemed to storm off towards the rubble filled stairs. Carl-Johan gave her a strange look, before he turned to look at not only his other companions, if he could even call them that, but also the large tower they had entered from the hallway. The other two women had quickly taken to climbing the vines hanging from the railing of the floor above, however, he didn't think the vines there would hold him, so he set about looking at the sigils over each of the hallways.

Over the hallway the group had exited from was a zigzagging line, but without context Carl-Johan didn't know what the symbol could mean. So he set about the perimeter to examine what other symbols were over the other five halls. At first he thought the zigzag lines were representative of the elements, but as each hall revealed another zigzag pattern, he wasn't sure. By the time he returned to his original hall, he decided they must be some archaic numbering system. He also felt he had seen these symbols somewhere else recently, but that didn't help him discover their meaning.

While traversing the whole path, he had peeked down each hallway, finding them to be just like the one he had come from. The other man, the one in dark navy, also seemed to have a inclination to investigate the area around him, just as Carl-Johan did, however, he was becoming pretty distraught as he examined the halls, so maybe he wasn't exactly stable. Carl-Johan was pretty accepting of the world around him. He did not try to fight the way things were and instead found ways to adapt and move forward. Maybe that was why he had not had any trouble with the motes like the woman called Theon. Maybe that was why even now he did not speak and ask questions, but instead continued to gather information about the area. Maybe that was why he was calm, and others seemed to be clearly shaken.

Carl-Johan shook his head, letting his long brown hair flick around his face. Running a hand through it to keep it out of his eyes, he looked for ways to the next floor, as the only way out was clearly up. The rubble filled stairs would take a long time to clear without help, and without food he hoped to try to preserve his energy. The large pillars by the crumbling railing, seemed rather sturdy, especially considering the weight they were supporting above them. They too, though, were covered in vines, and he felt this would be the best means to ascend. Finding a steady footing, first on the railing, which seemed to grind and break apart under the added weight, and then in the vines, Carl-Johan climbed his way to the second floor.

Moving forward into the stair-flanked hall, Nymona ran her fingers lightly over the inscriptions lining the walls. The slab blocking the way forward was large and solid, but a gap wide enough that she could probably shove her hand through ran around the edges. It was through those gaps that the light shone in through, and she hoped the light meant a way out. Of course, the slab would prove to be a troublesome obstacle.

Heading back into the central column, she grabbed one of the vines hanging down from above and looked up. Perhaps a rope might help, she thought. She gave as hefty a pull as she could, but got nothing but dirt and flecks of old stone in her face in return. The vines were strong, their unseen roots secure. Coughing up the ancient dust in her mouth, she spat over the railing. A knife would've made quick work of the vine, but she had nothing but the strange pale orange robes.

Nymona was set to give up until she realized she only needed one end of the vine. Grabbing it again, she pulled up instead of down, and was pleased to find the bottom of the vine was unattached to anything below. Hand over hand, she pulled the length up, letting it coil up at her feet. When the tip slid over and railing to rest by her feet, she leaned down and began measuring out a fairly long loop.

Deft hands quickly made a knot, turning the vine into a large lasso that would tighten as one pulled on it. Like a noose. She shook off the thought and made her way back to the slab, she shoved the loop through the gaps so that it draped around and behind the stone. A quick pull tightened the vine, though she didn't try to drag the slab over yet; she imagined it would take more than herself to shift the huge rock.

Kalia made it up to the third floor to discover another already there, a woman in robes of a strange shade of orange. The light coming around the edges of the slab intrigued her, but when she saw the stranger already investigating it she shied away. There was of course no telling what kind of person the robed woman was, and the fear and dread that gripped Kalia's heart upon the thought of what horrors might lurk within the heart of that stranger was enough to start her walking away. She hadn't stopped to look at any of the halls leading off the first or second floor, so she figured she might as well do so now. She made her way around the ring in a clockwise direction, looking at each of the passageways leading off of it, hoping to find some other light that she might work toward alone.

She found nothing of the sort. Each hall was much the same as the one she had first found herself in, minus the water. They went on for a ways and ended in a broken statue. The walls of all of them seemed to contain more of those stone pods, the things she and the others had apparently come out of. Plants grew here and there, more evidence of the structure being old and abandoned. Kalia couldn't help but wonder if each of the pods held people in it, and the thought sent shivers down her spine. The place seemed devoid of intelligent life, but if each pod held another person...

She walked to the railing and looked up, trying to estimate just how many floors there were. There was no end to them that she could see, dozens of floors extending upward until it was impossible to make out where one floor stopped and another ended, and then up to the faint light from above. Her best guess was that there had to be hundreds of floors to this place, and maybe fifty pods per hall, six halls per floor. Three hundred pods per floor, countless floors above. There could be thousands of people in those pods, just waiting to be released. The six of them who'd found themselves in the flooded hall below could have just been the first wave. Soon this strange building could be like a crowded city, with people pressing in on all sides, making the air foul with their various odors, and all the monsters in human skin just walking around like normal people, and they'd make the place just like a city too with all the fighting and rape and murder and evil and...

Kalia found herself clinging to the vines hanging in front of her face with a death grip, knuckles white. Her heart was pounding and her breath came in shallow gasps. She closed her eyes and tried to picture her favorite place, a tranquil little pond in the forest near her home, where she would often sit for hours at a time, just watching nature. The image was almost immediately ruined by the thought of a horde of people coming and trampling everything, and her eyes snapped open. She instead pushed some vines aside and looked down at the pool of water below, trying to calm and control her breathing. This place was not nearly so lovely as her pond, but it had a beauty of its own nonetheless. It was also very clearly devoid of swarms of people, which helped quite a bit. She could see further floors going down into the depths, presumably with more halls full of pods extending from each of them, but they did not worry her. If there were people in those pods they would probably be dead due to drowning, or they would die in attempting to find their way up to the surface. At most she imagined only the first few floors beneath the water could feasibly send out more surviving people, assuming they were good swimmers and did not panic, and a few hundred more people atop the thousands above did not worry her much.

Once she had mostly gotten herself under control, Kalia turned and saw a vine now leading over to the slab. The woman in orange was looping it around the stone, and her intent was pretty clear. She wanted to pull the slab down and open the way past it, toward the light. When the woman stopped without actually trying to pull it away, Kalia made a decision. One stranger, or even five if it came to that, was far better than thousands. She wanted to get out of this place and away from those pods as quickly as possible, and perhaps the only way to do that would be to work with these other people. The slab looked heavy enough that it might take all of them to pull it down, and if that was the case then so be it.

Kalia took a deep breath to steady her nerves and walked over to the woman in orange robes. "I am Kalia. I will help you remove this barrier." Kalia knew that she did not look very strong, but she figured any offered help would be welcomed, even if the one offering did not look extraordinarily strong. She was slim and on the short side for her species, but being an elf that made her about as tall as an average human male. Her dark hair hung down to her shoulders, with the tips of her ears extending far enough to be visible unless she made a particular effort to hide them, which she had not done this day. She walked over and placed a hand on the vine, readying to help but not yet pulling, waiting for approval and for the other woman to give the signal to start.

Samsa stepped out of the halls into the large foyer, watching his neighbors skitter up the webs of vines veiling the stone pillars. He examined his arms, little sticks wrapped in a pale sheet, and thought the task impossible. He kept watching the men and women hoist themselves further and further up the veins like little spiders of assorted colors. He approached the vines on one of the pillars and coiled his fingers around a pair, giving them a tug. He saw them as thick, green bars blocking his way while his feet remained hopelessly rooted on the ground. He scoffed, tightened his grip on the vines, and didn't hesitate a moment longer.

He snatched every inch of the vine in his calloused grip, carrying himself up the green bars with his feet marching up the pillar. His body moved steadily upward, his feet stomping on the stone like a beastly ogre, huffing and grunting in his ascension. In short, steady time the second floor was in sight, but the ebony railing tracing its edge was behind him(or rather below him) as quickly as he had found it; Samsa was not yet through, and neither were his twiggy, frail arms. He found more resilience in his bones than he had ever thought possible as he continued to choke the vines with his spindly fingers. The vine writhed as Samsa wrung it in his wide palms, but it never swung out of his control, nor did Samsa grant the mercy of snapping it. He continued choking the vine all the way up to the third floor.

Samsa swung himself over the dark railing, having ascended to the third floor. The women in orange and purple accompanied him, attempting to bring down a large stone slab. The entrance blocked their way, and Samsa was in no mood to be blocked any longer. The one in purple was fragile and scrawny, much like him, caressing the limp vine in her hand like a piece of string. The one in orange held it similarly, gripping but not pulling. He could taste the cool air in his lungs and feel the living earth underneath his soles, and yet the stagnant, musty air still filled him, and he still stood o the chiseled stone of a prison. He could bear it no longer. Samsa hurried over, snatched one end of the vine, and shot the ladies an imploring, pleading look. He had to leave.

Carl-Johan glanced around the second floor as he made his way towards the stairs. As he passed by a few of the halls he noticed that the symbols above each hall was the same, and he still did not think of what the significance could be. He was pondering this thought, and wondering what the others were planning to do as he took the staircase to the third floor.

He could immediately tell that this was the first floor that was a bit different. Again he looked to the strange symbols above the halls looking for some sort of extra clue as to what this was all about, but alas, again the symbols were all alike. Figuring that every floor was the same, Carl-Johan put it out of his mind. On this floor, 2 of the women had gathered and the man in dark navy blue was with them. It seemed they had done something with one of the vines. Upon closer inspection it was obvious they were going to attempt to pull the large boulder away from the opening. He stepped towards the group to help, and that was when he noticed the markings on the walls.

He could see strange inscriptions mixed with weathered stones, as if something had ground and scraped against, but unfortunately the scratches were so bad, Carl-Johan couldn't quite discern which markings were from repeated wear from a great stone, and which were put there intentionally. The large stone itself was of a different material than the stones on the walls which was curious to him, and it was obvious from the markings that the stone had been moved many times before. This only made him more curious about what was on the other side. If it was not a way out, they could always turn around and come back to head up the tower.

"Do you mind if I help? I think with the four of us we could get it to move." Carl-Johan spoke with a smooth almost calming voice. He was polite and helpful, taking the lead almost unobtrusively. A gentle giant at heart, he looked tougher than he was, although his strength was still a force to be reckoned with.

Oops, Accidentally Double Posted...