[Chapter 7] The Deep Throne

[Game Master]

Open to: Ariadne, Amalea, Llangort, Every, & Freyja

There is no word count requirement for posts in this thread.

For the sake of expediency, this thread will only remain active for 2 weeks (I. E. It will close on February 14). For this reason, there is no posting order. Any of the participants may post at any time (just don't post back to back).

Participation in this thread is required for consideration in chapter consequences, meaning that your character must give an answer in roleplay for it to be counted.

How characters respond to the question will determine all of the outcomes of the chapter.

It is shortly after the last of the Throne Room keys is found that a mysterious and yet distinctly feminine voice speaks directly each of your minds, revealing to you all the location of the throne room's entrance. With it is the overwhelming desire to approach immediately. Instinctive is the knowledge that where you go, only those who hold keys may follow.

Indeed as you go into the Labyrinth, the monsters inside seem to completely ignore you as you hold the keys. Your destination is behind false walls, through secret tunnels, buried as deep as ancient history. In the future, should you wish to retrek the same steps, you will likely find yourself unable to remember the way. This may even occur to you as you descend with an increasing intricacy of twists and turns.

Soon you arrive in front of an enormous set of doors carved seemingly out of stone. Upon their surface are etched runes which come from an indistinct or forgotten origin.

Once the keys have been put into place on the large mystically locked doors, the enormous rock face begins to creak out of the way, slowly swinging wide open. Proceeding into the darkness is like descending into the deepest, blackest chasm.

What you find appears to be a massive underground domed structure, supported by gigantic pillars. The architecture is vaguely Greco-Roman and all around there are spread ancient relics and treasures surrounded by what seem to be undead knights of indescribable power. To touch the riches in the chamber would surely lead to death. Instead, you are drawn inexplicably towards a raised platform at the very center of the room, whereupon there is a throne.

This is what the sirens were looking for. This is that seat of great and terrible power.

This is Theodosia, mummified and seated upon her throne, who walked across the bottom of the ocean. Who crafted herself into a queen of the dead. Though her physical form is weak, you sense immense darkness coming from her. Approach with caution.

The chapter question will be presented in the next GM post after a majority of the participants have posted their arrival and approached the throne.

Characters will be able to ask some questions for the sake of information gathering.

To learn more about Theodosia see this page. Be mindful of the information key and associated numbers before assuming your character would know something.

[Llangort (DELETED 6420)]

Since finding the key, Llangort had expected “something” to happen, spent the time preparing, readying himself. But ending up however far below and away from anywhere he knew, not knowing even where to start to go back, wasn't quite what he expected. He wasn't sure that even his other self could pull him out of here, not that it should try, he had made that thoroughly clear, but still, the thought was unsettling. A moments panic upon seeing the undead knights, quite obviously superior versions of what he had infrequently, but annoyingly, encountered in the tombs after lapses in concentration. Fortunately he resisted the urge to slip into the shadows and run, a habit well honed as he had delved through the tombs, deeper and deeper even after finding the key. No grabbing and running here.

But more important things needed his attention now.

The journey to the Labyrinth, the intricate path, gave him almost no time or focus to observe the others, so he took a moment. Four others had taken the same journey, had presented and used keys somewhat like his. A glance at each, the inconsequential observation that he was likely the only male out of the five, a nod of recognition for Amalea, having fought by her side before gave some reassurance in the currently indeterminate situation. Somewhat reassured about his companions, he adjusted his long leather coat and turned towards the throne, taking some time to observe the platform, the throne, and it's occupant.

[Freyja]

W E A R I N G

Freyja.

Quickly, the Danish woman bolted upright in her bed, one arm flinging the sheet from her figure and clenching her free fist, arm cocked for throwing a punch into an imaginary foe. Her breathing was wild, erratic, her chest heaving with the effort of calming her nerves as she glanced around the moonlit room, her eyes wild, her hair in a disheveled tangle.

Slowly, she realized that she was alone, and let her arm slowly fall, loosely clutched fist resting between her knees as she shook her head gently, clearing the fog of her sleep from her thoughts as she fell back into the bed, letting the mattress swallow her.

Her hand reached up to gently brush the pads of her fingertips along the cool metal of the key that hung between her breasts on a leather thong, where it had remained since she had found the thing down in that secret alcove in the Labyrinth. She hefted it in her hand, lifting it into her line of sight as she turned it over in her vision, watching the moonlight glint off its silvered surface.

She held something powerful here. Something of magic.

Ironically, the key to what she had sought since she had learned of the limitations of her newfound immortality.

She sighed, and let the key fall to her flesh with a thwap, before she rolled over and stood, her back arching as she stretched her spine until a long series of pops left her, and a soft sound of relief left her throat. She pushed a hand through her hair as she walked into her closet, hands rifling through her clothing until she found an appropriate outfit, her AWSM rifle still propped against a corner of the closet since her last incursion into the labyrinth. She eyed it, wondering if she might need it, her eyes gliding along the length of its shape as she pulled the leather jacket on over her shoulders.

It was best to be prepared. She grabbed her rifle, and with that, she headed out, walking aimlessly until she found herself inside the labyrinth again, hand sliding along the rough stone wall as she walked.

Freyja.

Her name was distinct this time; unmistakable.

In the apartment it had been a faint whisper, like a rasp of steel on stone. Hollow. Dead.

Cold.

A shiver went down the tall Dane’s spine, a tremor that forced her to suppress the urge to let her teeth chatter. Everything was a dark haze, her eyes seeing, but not comprehending where it was that she was going. The voice was guiding her, the pull she felt deep in her chest tugging her along, her feet cooperating of their own accord. Already, she was turned around to a degree that she had long ago given up on trying to keep track of where she was walking, of how to get out of where she was heading.

This was a risk she had taken, and taken gladly. From what she had gathered from the initial post on the CrowNet forum, these keys that she and so many others had been after were linked to something with power; something with a sway over the veil itself. It struck her only natural that it would protect itself in such a way, that it would lure the holders of these keys into the dark, scrambling their memory beyond a hope of reconstruction. It was safe, this way, from those that might wish to return in force.

Quietly, she thumbed her nose and let her icy gaze sweep the darkness of the cavernous floor far beneath any she had been able to reach on her own. Farther than she and her little band had made it, by far. She felt like she had walked for hours after she had found herself at the mouth of the Labyrinth, but for all that she knew, it had been but a few minutes.

Had it not been for the hulking creatures that lumbered to and fro in the dark, she would never have thought she was so far beneath the surface.

Another door swung open, another rough-cut stair descended down into the dark.

Suddenly, she was stopped short by a huge stone door, wider than she stood tall, and looking as forbidding as any fortress she had ever seen. A small, shaped hold indicated perfectly where the key should be laid, her slender fingers delicately pressing the old metal into the stony groove. With a groan and a rasp of stone grinding against stone, the door slowly pulled itself open. The air that she had stood in without had seemed stale, but by the way that the air hissed as it whipped past her, sucked into the dark room beyond, she knew that the air here would be long dead, uncounted years unstirred.

With a deep breath, she took the plunge, and descended into the black.

What she found, she had hardly expected.

She had expected another system of caves, some kind of cavern system, maybe even more of the same that she had left behind.

There in the darkness, the cavern walls fell away, an entire building resting in the heart of this huge snarl of corridors intricately carved into the stone with an elegance and splendor that dazzled, even so many years after their construction. She felt that she had stepped over the threshold of some kind of temple, that she tread on some sort of sanctified ground. All around her, lining the walls of the enormous central corridor, riches of every variety were mounded against the walls. A literal treasure trove of wealth beyond her imagining. Wealth, in its own way, was a kind of power. One that held sway over most of the world. Greed was a very potent motivator.

If the casual display of such tremendous riches didn’t showcase the influence of the thing before them, the powerful darkness that rolled off of her did. It felt like the entire world was being sucked into that darkness, like every speck of light was winked out, snuffed in that immense power.

She paused alongside the rest of their little party, but her eyes were only for the withered figure on the throne, her whole being drawn towards the darkness that surrounded it, wanting to lose herself in its ferocity.

“We’re finally here…”

[Every]

There had been something in the way that she didn’t recognize the voice spoken into her mind that made Every uncomfortable from the get go. She hadn’t lingered as she had wanted to, contemplating her options as her feet lead her further and further into the darkness. She’d lost track on the floors she had spent a good part of the last month on, moving further than she had gone on different attempts without the need to fight to get what she wanted. She hadn’t understood before how the labyrinth was hardly the same month after month, and this made it just a bit more clear.

Something, or someone, had made it that way.

Although she’d thought to bring Zachary ahead of her, the woman hadn’t been able to so much as request for him to do so before leaving. He’d called out into her mind and she’d ignored him early on as she tried to focus on her surroundings, only for the paths to fall away. ”I’m fine.” She said only after she stepped through a tunnel. Her wraith and her thrall were silent as they seemed to understand that she would be fine - or so she hoped. Her fingers itched for the firearm that sat on her hip despite the odd nature of the creatures seeming to pay no mind to the approaching vampire.

Instead, she only grasped her key a bit tighter before her hand went back to rest in the pockets of her hooded sweatshirt. Freyja was recognized immediately as she finally reached the door and set her key into place, but only the man remained unfamiliar to Every who would give him a nod of her head in greeting.

As the door opened and they would enter, she felt the hair on the back of her neck prickle as she looked up at the throne. Her hand lifted to rest against it, the feelings tracing over her small frame something that causing her discomfort. ”We’ve got a heart to get.” The words that Prudence had written in the email ran through Every’s mind as she took in the throne room. There was nothing of the sort that she could see so far, but her attention kept falling back upon the mummified body on the throne. In the back of her mind, even as she wanted to approach, she felt this was a bad idea.

That amount of power, that amount of darkness radiated. There was a double edged sword just waiting for them to fall upon it, there had to be.

[Amalea]

The red-head had spent more days than not in the Labyrinth ever since the Administrator had made their demand for the keys that could be found there; along with the caveat that the way should be made clear as well. Well, **** them, whoever they were. If they were as powerful as they claimed, they could get off their *** and come down here for themselves. She wasn’t sure what the key unlocked and in all honesty, it didn’t matter. She had learnt from the Longslade incident; it is better to acquire something and take time to decide than research and lose your opportunity. Not to mention, she was wary of leaving the entire decision up to the vampire community on their own. History showed that wasn’t always the best course of action.

The money for the keys hadn’t been an issue; her businesses were doing well enough that she could afford the time away along with the monetary cost. It was isolating for the most part, but given the events of the past couple weeks, it was a blessing in disguise. It wasn’t likely she was completely cut off; telepathy and her phone still worked. But it did give her time to ponder everything going on without unsolicited opinions. It had become a sort of soothing dance to slay the creatures that opposed her before searching their remains for a fabled key.

Then she had found it; or rather one of them. The ancient looking key had stuck out like a bit of a sore thumb from the wolf’s carcass. Wiping the blood and guts from it, she examined it a bit closer. It was certainly more than a few centuries old; closer to at least from a time over a millennium ago. She would lay money that this was one of those keys the Admin sought which hastened her effort to leave the Labyrinth. Only two were informed of her find as she valued their opinions in the matter. Each had had rather sage advice that aligned with how she thought; she just didn’t it was going to be as simple as any of them hoped.

It wasn’t until she was teleporting home from her show and tell session that she found out that things weren’t going to be allowed to develop as she had hoped. Instead of arriving in her apartment, she found herself in a semi-familiar place. She knew she was in the Labyrinth, but this was definitely an area she hadn’t laid eyes on before. She wary kept an eye on the monsters as she followed the voice inside her head drawing her towards a specific room. Reaching out with her mind, she lightly tapped the mind of the one she had just left. Looks like we don’t get any time. Also looks like my invite doesn’t have a plus one either.

Coming to a stop outside the room, she joined the others in placing her key into the rune-etched door. It really wasn’t a surprise given the number of rune-enhanced monsters she had encountered over the past month. But just like those runes, these ones were also outside the realm of her rune knowledge. She had planned to research the ones she had seen on the creatures; time just had not been on her side. She followed the others into the domed room taking her time to look around though she wasn’t about to touch anything. Nor was she getting close to any walls; this place had too many hidden passages and she didn’t fancy getting lost in a section no one had ever explored.

She stopped a bit short as her eyes laid upon the throne and its mummified ruler. Even she could tell from here that this was an ancient vampire. One that probably hasn’t fed in years if their state was any indication. Awesome. Six vampires and her the only human. This was going to be a very interesting adventure. She took another step before pausing to appraise the figure wondering if it would reveal the source of the palpable darkness she could sense.

She nodded absently to Llangort and Ariadne as she approached Every. Of the other keyholders, the only one she didn’t know was the blond woman, though she gave her a smile too. A eye was kept on the throne as she wondered if this was the heart that Pru had mentioned to Every. In reality, it didn’t matter; there was no going back now. She was just going to stick close to Eve and hope hell didn’t break loose.

Power: Appraisal on Theodosia

[Game Master]

She sits upon her throne, back straight as a board, the slender and withered flesh of her arms engulfed by bejeweled manchette - which reveal some of the shape she might have when well fed. The throne is formed of stone, and seems to be as solid as if it were carved out of the ground itself. Her hands rest tamely in her lap. Her hair was clearly once long and dark, though now there are just wilted strands which caress the high seat which supports her frame. Her cheeks are sunken and hollow - her skin grayed. Her eyes are shut, and it is unclear if the orbs behind the lids are naturally full or if those too have deflated, as the rest of her.

When a few bodies draw near, she speaks.

Though her mouth does not move.

Her mind reaches like a dark and silent claw. When she pours her words into your skull, it is not the same precisely as when someone else uses the ability to mind speak. Instead her words are in numerous tongues all at once, a pattern of them which sounds like the resonant chant. She does not so much speak in words as in concepts, and memories, and beliefs, and ideas.

“You are the few who destiny has chosen.”

There is a weight to the phrase. With it comes the burden of memory, of sights she has seen before. They are just snippets, little flashes of moments from her past. So quick, they barely make any sense. So random they verge on incoherent. Like the strobing of an epilepsy inducing light. Amongst them are the murder of her uncle, the sacrifices she made in the name of a dark goddess, her long trip across the ocean, and the ashes of her own childer - slaughtered at the hands of the fae. There are many others, but they remain indistinct.

When Amalea attempts to appraise Theodosia, the only thing she is able to decipher is that the mummified being is a vampire. However weak her physical form may seem, the ancient undead’s aura is as striking and imposing as it is dark. So dark that brushing too closely against her mind is like attempting to walk through a house filled with smoke. It leaves Amalea mentally reeling. Possibly with a splitting headache. If only for a few minutes.

“You have been brought here for a conversation. This moment has been written in the constellations since the cracks first began to form.”

Though the way she says ‘conversation’, is odd. Transposed over the word are other meanings as well: transaction, blessing, burden.

“My offer is a simple one. I will use my power to rend wide open that which connects this this place to the one that comes after. In exchange, I need only human blood. However, knowledge is its own currency, so I will, on good faith, answer a single question for each of you. My champions. Those who were brought here to usher in a new and greater era.”

And then she is silent. As if waiting.

Okay so your characters have three distinct choices here:

1) Give Theodosia the human blood (This will lead to the rift beginning to slowly widen).
2) Leave the Throne Room, and seal it shut behind you (This will result in the rift remaining as it has, for now).
3) Kill Theodosia (This will result in the rift remaining as it has, for now).

All options have additional impacts.

All participants may ask her one question, which she will answer if she is able. Though the asking of questions is not required.

Unanimity is necessary. If even one person decides to kill Theodosia, for example, she will be unable to feed on human blood.

Any dispute over the way in which she is to be handled must be settled either persuasively, through discussion, or through combat. If the people who disagree with how you want to do things are dead, they can't object - can they?

Obviously no major action can be taken without giving people a chance to respond. For example, you cannot write your character running out to collapse the entry to the throne room and then do so without another character having a chance to do something about it (combat included).

Character actions are the answer to the chapter question here, and I can't wait to see what happens!

[Ariadne]

Her bones ached as the voice echoed inside of her head, summoning her deeper into the twisting tunnels of the Labyrinth. At some point a few floors back, she figure that she must have found a hidden passage that no one else had, or that luck had smiled upon her and led her away from the others who had been hunting for secrets to uncover so that she could find a special something.

It had to be luck, right?

The key lay heavy in her pocket, like the weight of a thousand souls pulling her down. Ari walked in a daze through the corridors until the doors were open to the treasure room, barely registering the presence of the four other individuals as they all made their way into the vast unknown. The openness of the room itself seemed oppressive. Stale air with a tinge of metal and decay slid through her nostrils and down her throat. The ache of her bones turned to an itch and a scrape as her eyes settled upon the form of Theodosia. Instinctively, she positioned herself near Amalea and took a half step in from of the human, as if the mortal needed defending.

For Ari, the unease is palatable. Thick as Christmas pudding, if pudding smelled of a thousand year old corpse. The woman's voice felt like fingers slowly trailing up her spine, under the skin. Ari closed her eyes and gathered her thoughts, reaching out quickly to assess the room and occupants in the event of an emergency situation. A question? One question. Each. That was a burden indeed. What would be the right question? For her, there was one that had stood out to her almost since the beginning of her time as a vampire.

"What would happen if we closed, or even narrowed the Rift that connects our realms?"

Powers used: Exogenous Sight

[Llangort (DELETED 6420)]

Everyone here knew one or more of the others here. Noted.
No recognitions indicated expected hostilities, even of those not known, even with all 'visibly' armed. Noted.
The tall blonde perhaps only known to the hooded sweatshirt wearer. Noted.
Amalea choosing to be near the one with the hooded sweatshirt. Noted.
The immediate question poser adopting a somewhat protective stance towards Amalea. Noted.
Headache coming on from trying to make sense of a couple minutes worth of suppositions. Noted.

But yes, that was the immediate question. Not his first thoughts of “How much blood how often and whose and how and if?” The 'what happens if we do' question.

[Every]

This was not going to be easy.

Every usually liked a challenge, but this? This was not her cup of tea. The fate of everything was right there in front of them, and as she received glimpses of the past, she knew her initial plan would not work. A trade wasn’t going to happen, not information for the key, at least.

As Amalea drew closer, the shadow reached out and softly curled her fingers around her wrist. There was a light squeeze that followed, an indication that she had her back. It didn’t surprise her that Ariadne was the first to speak up. Her lips twitched in satisfaction that she wasn’t the only one that who had protected the masquerade from the vampires end, there.

”Perhaps we should try to form our questions after every answer to judge what would be best?” Every asked quietly into the minds of those around her, purposely skipping the queen. ”I was killed by someone saying they had to get to the heart. I’m wondering if it’s the heart of vampirism.”

[Freyja]

Quietly, Freyja let those with her shuffle to readjust their configuration, the formation of vampires, mostly, forming a sort of barrier around the single human in their midst. It was almost laughable, if she was honest, that they would think the woman incapable of handling herself. Even if she were human, that didn’t make her a rabbit, timid and fragile. She stood her ground, and allowed the woman her space. She was an unknown in the group, and to give nothing away gave her an advantage, as at least one of each other of the group appeared to know another.

Her only connection to any of them was to Every. Every, the woman who was pushing words into her head now, an act she had grown more and more accustomed to, with Sence back. It gave her much less of a headache these days, having grown jaded to the way the power had made her feel the first time she had encountered it. She was without an ability to respond in like manner, and so she kept silent. She was still, but for the lift of a hand to push the golden hair back from her shoulder as she watched the ancient woman across from them, wary of the power that such a thing might wield.

Every knew she was no idiot; knew that once a plan was made, she only went off course when it became necessary. She was prone to going rogue, but only when it became beneficial. This, though, she could see no benefit in breaking away from this course of action. It seemed the smartest way to gauge the important questions, to collect what information they could, before deciding on what information they lacked carried the most weight.

Quietly, she pulled a cigarette from the pack in her pocket, hastily tossed into the jacket during her quick retreat from the penthouse, and placed it between her lips. With a rasp of flint on steel, spark met butane, and flame came to life, igniting the tip of the cigarette. With a quick drag, the ember flared to life, filling her lungs with beautiful smoke.

She sighed, letting the burning air leave her in a rush as her eyes remained on the creature in front of them, letting the small distance between herself and the group pass for polite consideration of her habit. She could think more clearly with a cigarette, and was glad for it as she awaited the ancient’s first answer.