Private Tales Artifice

[Gruki]

Gruki couldn't feel Kaarle's hand through the thick sleeve of her gambeson. I'm fine, he said, as if she would fall for that! 'If you're sure?' She stooped to get a closer look. She failed to spot any cuts or bruises but that did not mean they were not there. I swear by the Eldyr's acorns, if he's lying to me...

Deciding to believe him, Gruki took a step back, sighed. It took her a full ten seconds to realise her sword was still in her hand.

Wiping the blade clean on her cloak, the squire slid it back into its scabbard with a dull click. The monster, whatever it was, had moved on. And so should we. 'Agreed!' Her voice echoed about the cavernous library as she turned to regard the steps Kaarle was staring at.

Cast from iron, they spiralled away, up into the black maw awaiting them.

'I'll see what I can do,' the squire acknowledged, picking a careful path through the wreckage. She caught a shelf with her boot, sent it rebounding off a stone support. 'Sorry,' she whispered, grimacing at her own clumsiness. Clicking her fingers, she watched as the glowing ball of lochlight descended to hover near her shoulder. 'There! That's better!'

Clearing away the gathered debris, the she-orc mounted the steps, started to climb. She had to bow her head to keep from banging it on the steps above. Apparently, the Belgrath's hadn't taken anyone over six-feet-tall into account when they had built the place.

'I sure hope we find something soon,' she said, click-clanking her way up to the next floor. 'Rooting around in dungeons sure has lost its appeal.'

Kaarle

 

[Kaarle]

Like his words had been some suggestion to get to work, Gruki went and embraced the task with both hands. A mix of appreciation and deadpan amusement upon him, he remained standing some paces behind as she cleared the way, that tall frame bent in the cramped space. Her magic made even holding a torchlight for her redundant, so he hadn’t but to just wait and absently kick some debris further away as it came tumbling down.

There was keeping an eye out for the grub or its ilk, a possible return or another ambush, but for the time being neither transpired. His stern stare whipped back to Gruki only as her footfalls distanced, words echoing in an above. Without delay, he hurried after her.

“ I share in the sentiment, believe you me. “ He responded, stepping off the last step and into the new room. The torch sputtered as he swung it about in a board arch, bracing for any which threat or unsettling detail.

There was an alarming, if welcome lack of both. Not that it was easily or reliably discerned, as the space was rather cramped with furnishings and all manner of stacked thing in various stages of decay. Crumbling, rickety, covered in dust, gnawed up by moths or rats, faded, corroded and rusty.

Not a great sign, if they were to find anything even remotely reclaimable. His face reflected the thought, preemptively disappointed and weary for wasted effort.

“ With abyssal storage the first option — might hiding something of value amidst clutter be a good second? “ He asked, one hand digging in the pocket at his belt for the previously glanced upon notes. For reference, were they to conduct proper search. In a flick of the wrist, he forced the twice folded slip open under his look.

“ The box and therein the device can be of any size, from fits-in-your-pocket to a large crate. “ Any bigger, and we might as well leave it. Staring at the drawing, he scrutinized the little patterns on its surface. Irregular pinpricks with little lines drawn betwixt — the firmament?

“ But my assumption be we are likely to look for something betwixt the size of your head— “ He gestured at her noggin in tune, flashing a smirk. “ — And to about here. “ Palm flat, he brought it in front to about his own hip level. From there, it went to tap her on the arm encouragingly.

“ Try not to knock anything over, hmh? “

Gruki

 

[Gruki]

Gruki caught a flash of the sketch in Kaarle's hand, made her own calculations. 'My head's not that big!' She replied, offended by how sure he sounded. 'Is it?' Patting the sides of her head, red hair spilling betwixt gloved fingers, the tall half-orc pondered the validity of her knight's words.

Something splatted down on the ground floor of the atrium.

Ceasing her probing, Gruki edged towards the steps, a hand wandering to the hilt of her sword almost on instinct. Whispering her trigger-word, she watched as the bright orb she had cast floated out into empty air. Light, pure as driven snow, beat back the shadows, uncovering the destruction their coming had wrought upon the once great library. Gruki half-expected to see another one of those monsters lurking in the darkness. Instead...

Nothing. Just a few globs of steaming blood, evaporating into the dusty air.

'False alarm,' she said, shoulders sagging at the relief she felt. 'As to what you said, before... would you hide your most prized possession amongst... this?' She gestured to the refuse piled against the walls. Boxes. Entire banks of vellum, furled and wrinkled with age. 'It goes against all logical reasoning.'

She brushed past Kaarle, careful not to knock him over.

'Which is why it's worth a look, I s'pose.'

Kaarle

 

[Kaarle]

Against all logical reasoning? Hardly.

With one brow raised, he smiled with mild amusement at the squire and her turned back as she went.

“ Hide in plain sight, hmh? Like a small man blending into a crowd, it is better than nothing when you’re in a rush. “ He tried in a chuckle, fingers maneuvering the drawing back into a fold and then into his pocket.

“ Make whomever comes after to at least work for it, if nothing else. So work we shall. ” Tone twisted by the dry itch in his throat, he concluded in a rough cough against his fist and took a direction opposite from hers. There were crates, stacked, but none with labels or markings on them. A row of chairs, unorderly — dust billowed as he moved them from his way, carving a path into the clutter.

On the floor, fleeing the flickering torchlight, something skittered with about ten too many legs. He resisted a shudder at the sight of it disappearing under a shelf, shoulders flinching as he tried to keep an eye on the items, reading for any which recognizable detail. In time, his look happened upon a box.

The familiar marks were inlaid with little dots of metal that shimmered — Tin, maybe. Or silver? Not exactly the size of Gruki’s head, a little larger if less banged up, the surface dusty but otherwise unblemished. Or so he though, before the fire revealed the sorry state of the lock, the whole of it blackened like by burning. He cursed pre-emptively and threw already ajar lid wide open.

Within, was a similar box, just smaller. An exact replica. He extended his free hand over it, frowning with both mounting weariness and concentration.

The loch gave no vibration. No enchantment.

“ How’s it looking over there, Gruki? “ He called, withdrawing from the box for a fresh look about. A strange sensation ran through him as his eyes happened upon gleaming metal propped upon a table some steps away, the unmistakable shape before perceived only in a drawing. And next to it, another device of the exact same shape. Extending the torch at them, he spied a couple more, scattered amidst the shadows and dark corners.

He cursed.

Gruki

 

[Gruki]

Something skittered with about ten too many legs. Squatting down to check the lower shelves, Gruki smiled as a spider ran onto the back of her hand, began scaling her arm. 'Awww, isn't he cute!' The she-orc exclaimed, intercepting the spider's ascent with her offhand. The little fellow, about as big as her palm, froze under scrutiny, as if caught in a web not of its own making.

Then, it leapt again, going for the eyes.

Gruki caught it mid-air, tossed it lightly towards Kaarle. She had identified the species using the lochlight at her shoulder. A black-bellied, red-spotted killer, its bite would have left her writhing on the floor with foam coming out her mouth, if not for the fact its pincers weren't capable of breaking the skin. Not human skin, anyway. Or half-human skin, for that matter, she thought, going back to searching for the relic.

It didn't take her long to find it. Or the one next to it. Or the one next to that.

'Um, it's looking!' She answered Kaarle, working hard to balance five relics, one for each of her fingers. 'I think I might have hit a bit of a snag,' she said, unwilling to share the blame with her knight. Standing, she waddled closer, held the "relics" out for inspection. 'Tin, I think. Or zinc. One of the two!'

Smiling, she handed them off to Kaarle, making her problem his.

'These Belgrath's sure were crafty, huh!'

Kaarle

 

[Kaarle]

He cradled his jaw, mouth set to a grim line as he stared at the myriad of replicas, inwardly tallying up their number. Who was to say how many there were yet, just out of sight.

Irritation and frustration bubbled within his skull, the squire’s cheerful tone all too bright against the low hum of the underground. He shifted to attention belatedly as she approached, tempering his frown lest it deepen overmuch. He was angry with himself, first for the fact that he should’ve wanted to lash out and then for that he could find none to assign actual blame to. Beyond himself, that was.

He drew breath like in surrender, willing tension off his shoulders. The smile she wore whilst offering what equaled a lapful of worthless clutter, had a disarming quality in how ridiculous it was.

“ Yes. Crafty. “ He snorted mirthlessly, taking the items one at a time and lining them up into an empty spot on the shelves. Mere fire and lochlight shimmered off their metal, bereft of other magical luminance.

“ There’s naught in any of these. Nothing I’ve been led to believe we are looking for, anyway. “ He admitted calmly, despite the tired defeat upon his face.

“ No magic. Lifeless metal. “

A thoughtful, steadying hum left him as he reached a gloved index to the little pale sphere affixed to the middle of one of the contraptions, flicking it to a spin. The air about it vibrated, inspired to faint sound. Like a note plucked from a string. In its steady ringing, the floor beneath their soles rippled, as if the stone itself settled to listen.

Once the song died, the silence fell ever deeper.

Gruki

 

[Gruki]

The silence stretched on, fathomless, almost deafening in its quality. Looking from Kaarle to the artefact in his hand, Gruki blinked. 'Um, should we...?' Reaching out, she gave the artefact a good flick with her index finger. Almost immediately, the air around them began to thrum, an unseen hand running its way down her spine and making her shiver.

Then, she heard it. An echo returning. Despite the distortion, it sounded... close.

Turning, Gruki strode deeper into the dark between shelves. The ground beneath her feet vibrated gently as she cast about, searching for clues, hints as to the artefact's true location. 'Again!' She instructed, the dull clink of contact mingling with a newer, sweeter sound.

The vibrations grew stronger as she turned off the main hall into an antechamber. Ransacked long ago, the room's purpose was lost to her. But the feeling in her gut told her they were on to something. A lead worth following.

Snapping back to her senses, Gruki wheeled around to face Kaarle. In her pursuit of the artefact, she had entirely forgotten about the pecking order. Namely, how she was a squire, and he a knight. 'Apologies,' she said. 'I didn't mean to-... I wasn't trying to-...'

Kaarle