Fable - Ask Fire Burns Hot

A roleplay which may be open to join but you must ask the creator first
Griffyn nodded as he listened. Much of Zarra's description seemed to match with his own impressions of the underrealm, as told to him by books in his father's study and agrandising bar-room tales alike. And he couldn't help but swell a little, as a resident, at her belief that the surface world was superior. Though he planned for his year's journey to take him across the reach of Arethil, it was also comforting to know he was not missing anything by risking the unfathomable depths of her home.

"You must really enjoy your travels,"
he remarked with a grin, "to risk such discomfort all the time. And the sun is particularly glaring at this time of year, even I could do with less of it."

Her question gave him pause for thought. He began to speak, and hoped that the greater answer would come to him as he did.

"Well, I'd be lying if I said I didn't care for home. The Inner City of Alliria has everything a young lad could need growing up - food, drink, excitement, learning... And the rest of the city is nigh indescribable in its range of peoples, places and events. It's a real labyrinth that took me much of my life to learn to navigate. But it's a good city, I can say that much. A great one, even."

He hoped he'd be able to keep it that way once he took up his father's mantle and joined the Council. Perhaps he could even improve on it.

"A favourite place, though? There's been quite a bit now that's caught my interest. You've travelled about, you likely know them also. But... But I think if I had to pick, it would be the griffin gardens of Oban. And I'm not trying to be proud by saying so!"

He chuckled, resolve growing as he spoke.

"Those things are truly magnificent. You wouldn't expect such a creature to get airbourne, let along navigate so smoothly. You can see why much of the city is dedicated to keeping them happy and healthy."

He smiled as he walked, recollection strong in his mind's eye. Ahead, the mountains loomed and the shadows of the day stretched on, but Griffyn was oblivious.
 
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"You must really enjoy your travels," he remarked with a grin, "to risk such discomfort all the time. And the sun is particularly glaring at this time of year, even I could do with less of it."

She shrugged. "Most of the time. Sometimes I wonder if I should stop, but ultimately yes, I enjoy traveling. Besides, the more places I visit, the less people will be hostile towards me. Drow aren't exactly liked. I've been attacked before, and slavers have said outright that I'm "rare merchandise", so it isn't always pleasant. But, eventually people will realise that we can be good too."

"Well, I'd be lying if I said I didn't care for home. The Inner City of Alliria has everything a young lad could need growing up - food, drink, excitement, learning... And the rest of the city is nigh indescribable in its range of peoples, places and events. It's a real labyrinth that took me much of my life to learn to navigate. But it's a good city, I can say that much. A great one, even."

He hoped he'd be able to keep it that way once he took up his father's mantle and joined the Council. Perhaps he could even improve on it.

She was listening to his description of Alliria with rapt attention. Seemingly enthralled by his impression of the inner city. She'd been in Alliria before, as she was taken there as a slave from her last surface raid, which had gone very wrong, but she'd only been in the outer city, maybe a little ways further in but nowhere near the center. She had been in the service of a merchant, and she was required to keep his house clean and other such duties done. But she still hadn't gone very far in.

"A favourite place, though? There's been quite a bit now that's caught my interest. You've travelled about, you likely know them also. But... But I think if I had to pick, it would be the griffin gardens of Oban. And I'm not trying to be proud by saying so!"

He chuckled, resolve growing as he spoke.

"Those things are truly magnificent. You wouldn't expect such a creature to get airbourne, let along navigate so smoothly. You can see why much of the city is dedicated to keeping them happy and healthy."

His description here was just as enthralling as the last. She sighed to herself. "I wish I could see them. I had only stopped for a little while in Oban, I had never visited the Griffin gardens."

They approached the mountain, and she spied something on its slope. She pointed at it and asked, "what is that?"

If he were to look, he'd see what appeared to be a ruin. Of what they wouldn't be able to discern, yet, but definitely a ruin.
 
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Griffyn stopped beneath the growing shade of the trees and followed her glance. Zarra's elven eyes outmatched his own many times over, and it took him a moment to discern one shade of rock from another. But indeed, as he squinted at the mountainside he identified the brittle and crumbled walls of an old fort. The loose slanting of its foundation suggested that the building had not originally been build there on the scree slopes of the mountain originally, but had over time slipped and shifted to where it now stood. Certainly not a place that invited entry, not unless you had wings to easily traverse the slope. He wondered if that was dim firelight he could see beyond the wall, but that may have been the orange glow of the sunset flickering against the stone. No markings suggested anyone called this place their home, but still... Still, a feeling. A malaise upon the air, like the smoke of a distant charnel fire.

He nodded, leaning against the tree by his side. They were under heavy cover at this distance and it was unlikely they would be spotted by the occupants of the ancient fort. But still, he felt they were under heavy scrutiny.

"No easy way in,"
he remarked with a frown. "I doubt there's even a front door to speak of. We'll need to make our way around and see if there's a side entrance. They'll need a place to take in supplies, in theory. A place for wagons, even?"

There was little to see from here, so he pressed on towards the foothills.
 
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"No easy way in," he remarked with a frown. "I doubt there's even a front door to speak of. We'll need to make our way around and see if there's a side entrance. They'll need a place to take in supplies, in theory. A place for wagons, even?"

"I don't know if they use wagons. They might just hunt what they need to eat, and wagons tend to leave a trail. But one thing is certain, that was meant as a military installation, so there is definitely a door or gate somewhere, even if they don't import anything."

She looked to the mountain. It looked difficult but it wouldn't be impossible to traverse. The slope was certainly a deterrent, but not an insurmountable barrier, they likely relied on terror, killing everything that got too close, to keep people away.

"Come on friend. We have a castle to storm!"
 
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Zarra set off with the exuberance of a youth, and Griffyn followed on with a low frown.

"You are too excited about this," he remarked.

His companion's expertise with military structures gave him pause for thought. High castles and deep dungeons, yes, as such were often the settings of the tales for which she was such an aficionado. But she demonstrated a practicality that he had not expected. He remembered once more that, despite her youthful appearance and demeanour, Zarra was decades his elder. Or rather, he had assumed so based on her lineage as drow. He hadn't mustered the courage to ask.

As the forest began to thin around them, the pair passed white and grey tors of stone that jutted from the ground like fangs of the earth. The prevailing density in the air only grew, as though a layer of smoulder had begun to sink upon their heads. And before long, the trees fell away altogether and their destination was revealed. The sky was oddly dark, as though the day had passed them by or perhaps had fled the scene of Cinder's ire. The walls of the fort, though ancient and cracked, loomed overhead on the sides of the slope. The large gateway was shadowed into pitch black like the maw of a lurking beast.

Crouching by the edge of the trees, Griffyn cast his eye over the lair and silently drew his sword. This was where the true challenge began.
 
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(sorry for the wait.)


Zarra set off with the exuberance of a youth, and Griffyn followed on with a low frown.

"You are too excited about this," he remarked.

She looked almost offended, "I am not. I'm excited that we get to do a good thing! Besides, what's wrong with a little excitement?"

Crouching by the edge of the trees, Griffyn cast his eye over the lair and silently drew his sword. This was where the true challenge began.

She whispered. "Do you want me to go in first? Since I see better?"

Despite his concern, there was no sign of life, of any kind, in the old castle, it was just dull grey and some green moss. The tall hexagonal keep looming over them as they looked through the outer gatehouse into the bailey.

Zarra used to think that the drow were untouchable because they built the best structures, but by now she was vividly aware of her mistake. Human castles were by far the greatest defensive structures ever devised. With layers and layers and layers of defenses to the point where a group of ten could effectively hold off ten thousand for months at a time.

Castles, even their ruins, were truly magnificent things. Especially the big ones. This one wasn't so big but it was still pretty big, and the machicolations along the walls and the top of the keep attested to how expensive it had to be to produce.
 
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Griffyn nodded, eyes fixed on the dim contours of the ruin ahead.

"Good idea. Take it slow. Don't get overexcited."

He grinned as Zarra made her way into danger. He decided he knew her well enough by this point to trust that she'd keep her head. Still, his inability to see any threats atop the walls concerned him. He even anticipated flights of Cinder's soldiers wheeling in the air like vultures. But the nothing was worrying. Until he saw the force leveled against them for himself, his mind would anticipate the worst. As Zarra began her scouting, he quietly and slowly made his way after her.

As the day drew on, the landscape would begin to favour his companion more and more. He himself would struggle without lamplight, which would undoubtedly give him away. Still, the fiery countenance of their enemy gave him cause to believe the interior of the ruin would be well-lit and warm. He advanced carefully.
 
  • Bless
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Griffyn nodded, eyes fixed on the dim contours of the ruin ahead.

"Good idea. Take it slow. Don't get overexcited."

She gave him a little mock salute, "yes sir."

So she went in, rapier at the ready just in case, slowly walking forward, always ready to leap back if needed and defend herself. But as she slowly crept into the bailey. It was dark. No light could be seen from anywhere, but then again, this was clearly meant to be a functional, defensive construct, so there were next to no windows, only arrow slits set regularly across the walls of the central keep. No light shone through them.

She slowly approached the gate to the castle itself, and peered in. Nothing.

She went back to get him. "It's completely empty, at least the bailey and first few rooms are."
 
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Griffyn breathed a sigh of relief as Zarra returned. And yet...

"Nobody home?" he asked, brow tense. "I don't like the looks of this. We can assume they are expecting us to show up, after our little chat earlier. So where are they?"

Still, lingering in the shadows would only waste away the dwindling embers of the afternoon. He shook his head - no simple solutions.

"We have no choice. Let's take a look inside. Carefully."

He slunk forwards alongside Zarra, sword drawn and one hand out for balance, until they arrived at the open gates of the fort. Peering around the heavy stone walls and into the courtyard revealed the same truth that Zarra had reported - not a soul to be seen. But there were further doors against the walls beyond the courtyard. An ocean of shadow separated them.

Griffyn made his way along the walls slowly, eyes fixed on the walls overhead, until they reached the dusty wood of the fort's inner chambers. The first door they reached was open and, wanting to get out of the open, he made his way into the darkness.
 
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Griffyn made his way along the walls slowly, eyes fixed on the walls overhead, until they reached the dusty wood of the fort's inner chambers. The first door they reached was open and, wanting to get out of the open, he made his way into the darkness.

It was dark, and it was silent, and it was cold. As they wandered through the keep, they found nothing but termite-infested floors and moth-eaten tapestries and a couple of beds infested with termites and moth eaten sheets. This place clearly wasn't inhabited, at least not the upper floors.

It would be another half hour or so before Zarra came over and said, "I think I found something."

She brought him into the castle's undercroft, where a wall had fallen in to expose a cave entrance, there was no light to speak of, but counterintuitively, it wasn't colder, it was actually significantly warmer, noticeably so.

"What do you think?"
 
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Griffyn reached out a hand to touch at the rock of the cave, revealed behind the stone bricks of the undercroft. Warm, as though used as the foundation of a hearth not so long ago and still full of the lingering memory of flame. He could feel it even through the leather of his gloves. He frowned.

"That's odd," he replied, barely a whisper. "All this space up here and they opt for the depths? It must be pretty cosy in there."

He hoisted his sword, checking its weight, and gave a mirthless grin.

"Better go see what all the fuss is about."

He hated to have Zarra go ahead of him into the unknown (though his tutors had always taught him to let the ladies go first). However, the darkness of the fort only deepened as they proceeded into the cave. His inferior human eyes would be of no help in there. Worse, Griffyn got the distinct impression of the pitch black growing pitcher, an all-pervading darkness that felt like it was condensing on his skin. He trailed his hand along the too-warm of the wall to his right and advanced slowly, his boots echoing about him like some great, insidious heartbeat.

Until the wall fell away. Suppressing panic as his image of the cave fell away, he reached out and put his hand on Zarra's shoulder. He could sense that the chamber they found themselves in was much wider than the rest of this place. What manner of place was this?
 
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"That's odd," he replied, barely a whisper. "All this space up here and they opt for the depths? It must be pretty cosy in there."

"Either that or they don't actually use the castle." She said thoughtfully. "Could be a simple front. A distraction. They come to the castle and then out someplace else then go to their actual destination."

They descended into the blackness, her eyes helping to lead them safely down, until the area widened into a slightly bigger chamber. No, a staircase, a spiral staircase leading upward.

It was simple, and very bland, kind of like the underrealm. But it reeked of malice, hate she'd only felt a few times before. This was an evil place.
 
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(My turn to apologise for the delay! Been quite a week!)

Griffyn nodded, though aware she could not see him as he progressed at her back.

"That's true, this does feel more like a transit tunnel than a home. Though I would have expected a sentry, or even a simple trap to let trespassers know they aren't welcome."

He made his way down the stairs slowly, feeling the way ahead with his feet before taking each step. It was slow going, but it saved him from cracking his head open on the stone.

"Fancy having to take this path every time you came home..." he mused aloud.

Before long, he spied a distant glimmer of pale light in the distance as the staircase gave way to a long corridor of flat, worked stone. For all its architecture, the place felt no less ancient and menacing, like the jaws of an unknowable beast from the depths of his limited human racial memory. He eased his breathing to near stillness, his steps to quiet, catlike padding. He twitched at each creak of his leather, and the soft clink of the buckles on his clothing.
 
(My turn to apologise for the delay! Been quite a week!)

(No apologies from you. I'm late very frequently.)

Griffyn nodded, though aware she could not see him as he progressed at her back.

"That's true, this does feel more like a transit tunnel than a home. Though I would have expected a sentry, or even a simple trap to let trespassers know they aren't welcome."

"They have a defence already, by clearing out all the people who could possibly find it to begin with. And I doubt they don't know. I'm pretty sure they've blocked our way out by now." She told him. "So there's no need for a sentry if they want to lure us further in."

He made his way down the stairs slowly, feeling the way ahead with his feet before taking each step. It was slow going, but it saved him from cracking his head open on the stone.

"Fancy having to take this path every time you came home..." he mused aloud.

Before long, he spied a distant glimmer of pale light in the distance as the staircase gave way to a long corridor of flat, worked stone. For all its architecture, the place felt no less ancient and menacing, like the jaws of an unknowable beast from the depths of his limited human racial memory. He eased his breathing to near stillness, his steps to quiet, catlike padding. He twitched at each creak of his leather, and the soft clink of the buckles on his clothing.

She walked just ahead of him, and the faint glimmer of light also reached her eyes. She lead him ahead. And intent on informing him of any danger ahead.

That was a bit of a mistake though. One second she was there, the next, in a flash of black, she was gone.
 
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Griffyn's hand fell away as Zarra vanished into the inky black of the subterranean chamber. He halted, shoulders tense and grip tightening on his sword.

"Zarra...?" he whispered, voice falling flat as though the darkness was absorbing it, killing it. "Zarra, what happened?"

He was caught. He could not advance into the terrible dark without fear of tripping over himself, and he could not retreat for the same reason. All he could do was stand and ruminate on his companion's words, and her sudden disappearance.

...if they want to lure us in further.


She had not sounded overly concerned by this revelation, but right now he felt trapped in the spider's web. The spider itself had not yet made itself known, but he could almost feel it's presence at the edges of his senses. Or perhaps that was simply paranoia.

In the end, his resolve gave way. He had to see. Raising his free hand in front of him and pulling energy through the wand at his belt, Griffyn created a burning ball of flame to illuminate his surroundings.
 
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Well that was strange, he could cast magic too? Well, she supposed it was a possibility and someone had to be capable of it. But right now her hands were pinned by one hand and her mouth held closed by another, she hadn't even had time to react or call out she'd be accosted so quickly.

Her rapier still in hand though might be able to warn her companion, and she let it fall to the ground with a clatter. Instantly Gryffin would find himself facing another winged human, this time a woman. And Zarra would receive a punishing smack across the face for her actions.

His fire would illuminate the woman well enough to see details, and that he was in the doorway to a much larger chamber, it looked to be a circular room but details couldn't be made out in the dim light.

The woman wore very little, much like how none of the men they'd seen wore shirts, she only wore a top that hid her breasts, and a pair of shorts. Both black. Sprouting from her back were a pair of black draconic wings, and black gazelle horns sprouted from her temples. She, like the others, carried no visible weapon, but by now it would be safe to assume she was far from unarmed.

"Now," she said in a sultry voice, "it's rude to enter someone's house without knocking."