Lumiere — Roleplayer Guild

Relief washed over the demihuman as Iroryn made her attendance known, calling out to the two. "Y-yeh!" he agreed after a moment of inspecting his crossbow, wondering what went wrong with the device. In the process of leading Ashdane back the way he'd come before noticing something peculiar. Ariel was reaching down to relieve one of the dead of their weapon, almost causing Kaeci to come to a halt with both a confused and mortified expression. A chill ran up his spine from the perceived affront, casual theft from the deceased, causing him to fluff up. His ears perked up, frantically looking about as if expecting something to happen, and appearing cautiously disappointed when nothing did.

Perhaps...perhaps humans have a different relationship with Fish? I had known curses to be placed on those that bit hooks, as the saying goes, but was this act somehow acceptable? Maybe...maybe humans' dead were somehow...distant from Fish?
Maybe we are the ones who are distant...

Kaeci reentered the chamber, thankfully not needing to introduce the man they found as Alm took a notice to their newest member, introducing them as the rabbit continued to watch Ariel with a hint of worry in their eyes just before the blast from an orcish warhorn snapped him out of his thoughts. He hadn't needed Alm's order to quickly fall in step with the man, disappearing into the passage way with him. Kaeci continued a short ways and once again began shaking as he went about partially dismantling his crossbow as quietly as he could manage to find where the fault was.
With the box out, he held the string up as he brought the lever to a half-cycle, revealing how the fork was getting worn down again. The string must have slipped right over it, having not even reached the lock which seemed to still be in working order. Unfortunately, the fork was also responsible for triggering the drop of another bolt from the box, and the old wood, comfortable to the touch as it was, was likely not intended for as much use as he'd put it through without being replaced. He made a mental note to see if he could find a way to get a metal replacement, should they survive this mess.

Their ears drooped and hope briefly left his eyes until the sounds of the orcs engaging the other denizens of the ruins brought attention to how he may have enough time to at least attempt to jury-rig a fix. "Vould eit not be better to let zehm kill eachozher?" Kaeci softly asked, barely enough to be heard over the fighting but outwardly stressed by their harrowing situation of being now stuck in the ruins. In the meantime, he used a small knife to etch enough of a notch into the wooden fork for the string to catch. It was an optimistic fix at best, the next misfire would likely be the fork outright breaking under the stress. The device could potentially be loaded, primed and fired manually, though that would no doubt take time they would not have. To prolong the inevitable, he went about the process of practically wrestling the worn string onto the lock by hand at least for the first round which he picked out of the box, loading it and then slipping the box back into place with a soft prayer in the beastman's foreign tongue.

"Y-yes! Miss Iroryn iz makink sense. Vee found zee expedition...among vehr dreams sleep...should our mission not be complete?" Kaeci chimed in to agree with the woman's suggestion that more or less ran parallel with his own. Still fluffed, he moved to properly rejoin the group as he spoke, holding his armament at the ready, though with little confidence of its reliability.

Collab between EvictedElement, Noodles and Lumiere


Their hood pulled up and ears folded back within, Kaeci knelt after given the command to wait. After a few moments, he racked his crossbow, a somewhat blank expression on his face being teased with the worried furrowing of their brows. Darkly, they were thankful Stephan had been left behind as the situation progressively became more grim by the second. "Miss Selovia, I do not szink vee haf been acquainted. Eit iz a pleasure to serve vith you" the beastman quickly spoke, having never even looked in their direction until this moment, a glance. Their hands continued to aim towards the doorway Alm had disappeared into. Their head looking down and then back to the task at hand, "Vould you-" they began, moments before Alm returned to give the 'all clear' and Kaeci apparently discarded his line of question in favor of advancing. Keeping low, they swiftly approached, entering and sweeping the room with their weapon leveled in the event there was something their new leader had missed. Unfortunately, the motion forced them to take in the sights of smell that money had once been placed on the prediction of. Kaeciel, after a sharp inhale, nearly tripped over his own legs as he scrambled back to the doorway, eyes wide and shifting about the room. They took the smallest of breaths as if to confirm their previous notion and crumpled, dropping their crossbow in favor of holding onto the doorframe as they were promptly sick out onto the sand.
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What if? What if?

Two Weeks.
It had been two weeks since the expedition had arrived at this site. Sir Frances had been a half-decent leader, to the surprise of a few of the experienced members in it. Ashdane had figured the man to be a half-assed noble who’d caught the wild hare and wanted a quick profit with a bit of adventure, maybe some good old fashioned glory. Ashdane still hadn’t thought himself wrong for that assumption. After all, they’d found these tombs in a reasonable time, perhaps he’d gotten news about it somewhere and planned a spelunking to it for weeks, months, or who-knows-how-long. The crew had been well-thought out, a sign that Frances had been putting more thought to it than your average noble. A person had been lined up to deal with most tasks, someone to read strange letters, a guide to navigate the desert, a survivalist who would get them through tough times such as supplies running out or the group coming under attack from an orc raid. The medic they’d brought along had been a victim of that one. Luckily, the group hadn’t had to deal with any wounds beyond the abilities of first aid. Besides the medic’s, of course. Then they’d gotten to the tombs. Whoo-hoo. Getting in had been easy. Getting in deeper had been easy, too. After that, came an attack. Unexpected, unexplained, unprepared. The expedition had more or less been beaten, broken, beheaded; well, some of them. A good number got impaled and their bodies placed on spikes, likely to be saved for later. Others, the dear Sir Frances included, had been dragged off into the darkness.
What if? What if?

Ashdane tried to push away the thoughts that came unbidden to the forefront of his mind. He knew how they would end and didn’t want them to. Even twenty years later, he was still playing that “what if” game. Testing possibilities, feeling out potential with his imagination. Sometimes he could even pick out signs that seemed more like signals. He still hadn’t expected what had finally come. Shaking his head clear, the mercenary returned to watching the horizon. Five days out, fourteen in the tombs, two more since the ambush, twenty-one total. If he knew nobles, then his dear wife would have been worrying about her lord hubby and hired a group to look for the expedition. With any luck, it would be a half-competent group of people with enough supplies to safely extract the survivors. By Ashdane’s estimation, he may be the only survivor. And yet…(edited)

What if? What if? I’m not the only one?
Surely he would be. Frances had been dragged off, along with a few others on the day it happened. Others still stuck to spikes. If not to do the same to the taken, why take them? If not to keep them as food, or as some sort of resource, why need them? There was something logical to it, surely. But it didn’t matter. The expedition had been defeated. The group had failed. Together, they’d been ambushed and slain. Now Ashdane remained, lingering just beside the entrance, ready to either run out if more of those things came from the inside of the tomb, or to run inward if opposition found its way in. And then, fortune came around. Movement on the horizon, figures that began to resolve into a group of un-orc-ish shapes as they approached the tombs. Ashdane had nothing to go on to believe that they were friendly, outside of the chance that they might be hired by the lord’s wife, but they certainly did appear to be making their way closer.

What if they’re bandits? What if they wouldn’t care for your life? What if they’ll take what rations you have left, steal your gear, and be gone before you’re even dead?

If they really were coming this way then, one way or another, Ashdane would end up learning why there were here and what they wanted. He needed to make himself scarce, if only because what they wanted might be his loss for the time being. Had to conceal, yet stay close enough to catch echoes of what they say upon arrival. Their intentions had to be known before they found him.
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 “And its nice to meet you too, I’m Selovia,” Selovia could understand what Kaeci said, for there are people that she knew with more indistinguishable manner of speech from her time as a child. She tied her hair into a braid following the morning of the hot desert. Selovia lit up her lantern upon reaching the entrance of the old ruins. The corridor seem to stretch into an endless pitch of black to her. She mostly followed Kaeci from the back. The smell of those corpse was as ever pungent. Placing a scented cloth over her nose to keep the miasma away, she sniffed at the sight of the litters of corpses along the dark corridors of the ruins. Were there traps in this place?
__________________________________________

Having returned after receiving the command from Alm. Every second of being in the now tomb was horrible, assailing his senses with profound deaths and the imagination that relived the suffering of the corpses. Instinct screamed for the bunny to flee, but he shakily followed suit with Selovia to pull his scarf up over his mouth and nose...not before allowing himself a few small swishes of water to force the taste of breakfast back down. "Iz bad ideas, Selovia" Kaeci shakily whispered after a minute of carefully stepping through the room to avoid both blood and bodies. He was blatantly distressed, pulling his hood down to allow his ears to stand at sharp attention, "Il y a trop de fantômes, ici..." His whispers were becoming softer, still barely audible but intended for himself with the tone, offering little comfort as the words were laced with fear and superstition. The display was certainly having its intended effect, at least as far as the beastman was concerned. If it were not for Alm's order to scout, he'd already be half way back to the oasis with the overwhelming terror that crept under his skin, making his teeth briefly chatter. Holding a hand to his face to force it to stop, he looked down as the light from Selovia's lantern glinted off of a thin wire. Strung across the entrance to another passage leading deeper into the tomb, its design was unclear save for the suspicion of serving as a trigger for some form of trap. Regardless of if it was intended as an alarm system or to spur a cave-in, there was no sense triggering it to find out. "Vire!" Kaeci hissed, pointing out his find and stopping to survey the area past it, optimistic that there was only the one. Drawing a piece of chalk and drawing a line under the wire to mark its location, he stepped over it and shivered once more before continuing down the hall with some haste, eager to be away from the gore, behind him.
__________________________________________

Soft steps followed by a somewhat heavier footfall. One might have been adept at sneaking about, making little noise as they went. The other, however, must’ve been less experienced at the art. Armor’s clink and clang sounded through the corridor where Ash remained, just at the edge of the corner. He wanted to listen, wanted to determine what to do, wanted to know what they were here for and if they could be trusted to not harm him. You had to be careful like that, when distrust ran so heavily in your mind. 
Possibilities were numerous, but some tidbits here and there could narrow them down. If a man were ordering a guard post up, then it could be for the completely logical reason that danger lurked about and your people needed to be warned and ready. On the flip side, that same guard post could look out for potential witnesses and deter them from coming closer, allowing a person to get away with more illicit acts such as murder, pillaging, and other mischief. While the chance of innocents being seen in the desert this far out was unlikely, one could never be certain what to expect out in the wilderness. It could be the one day that some merchant comes by with his goods and beasts of burden, or perhaps a monster might be hanging around some new hunting grounds. 

Maybe, the most unlikely of possibilities, was that the deserted place that your group had agreed to set up camp in could be filled with hostile characters, traps, and bad manners. While Ashdane could be excused for the first two, bad manners were just bad no matter where you were. If those weeks spent exploring and surviving these darn tombs hadn't made this place his home for now, then he didn't know what did. So he stood, just around a corner, hand wrapped around the hilt of his sword (which was undrawn per civil manner of parley vis-à-vis intruder), and the other on a throwing knife, with a trip wire near the end of the hallway facing the entrance. The wire, of course, hadn’t been connected to anything (his primer was running low), but if someone tripped on it he’d have a great pre-emptive and a fun story. Then it got found. Well, there went that fun. All the same, it was for the best. Some trip wires could end in messy twists and sprains and that just didn’t serve for a good dialogue starter. Neither did swords, but some exceptions needed to be made when dealing with potential bandits, brigands, bastards, mercenaries, raiders, looters, pillagers, groups of-
Rabbit?

The soft footsteps had been approaching his corner and, in response, Ashdane had turned the corner to address and/or attack the scout. Instead, his first observation had been of a particular beast-kind he'd never seen before. Most of his experience had been derived from more…feline-like? Lions, tigers, even a particular lynx. A rabbit? That was new. “You…are adorable.” What if that’s bad manners for them? Good question. What now? Behind the rabbit, Ashdane caught sight of the other scout, the one whose steps had echoed in clinks and clacks. Old instincts kicked in as he scanned her. Rabbit and a noble. Her slave? Is this another expedition? What if? What if?
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As a figure rounded the corner, an audible gasp escaped Kaeci; if he could have gone more pale, he likely would have. The compliment eluded the bunny who swiftly racked their crossbow in the panic. A loud snap rang out as the lever stuck, the fork in the mechanism having failed to catch the string, thankfully resulting in a jam which saved Ash from receiving a bolt to the chest at point-blank range. Stunned, Kaeci looked from his shaking hands to Ash and then to his weapon he nearly dropped with the realization that he'd nearly shot what was likely the sole survivor of the massacre. "Sir! I am so sorry!" he whimpered with shame for letting himself get carried away with his fear. "I vould have almost be puttink bolts in you!" Kaeci explained, his common breaking down from the waves of emotion even as he continued, "Please forgive me, i-iz a place zeht vould not be szinkink to see life!"
Their ears folded back as their mannerisms filled in the gaps in their words, briefly glancing back the way they came, imparting their surprise and relief to have found someone after what they'd seen.

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