Private Tales The Fifth Word

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
Mack had been doing this type of thing long enough now, that he wasn't really sure if sleepless nights were due to his condition or his profession, but in either case, he found himself restless this night. Unlike Magda he was more than happy to find himself a cozy corner in the caretaker's home to tuck himself into for the night, but as comfortable as he made himself he simply could not find any rest. When morning came, without a gripe but certainly in a huff, he pulled himself from his place and got himself ready.

Suffice to say, the journey through the mountain road was rough for him, but he made his way well enough. He didn't betray just how fatigued he was, but when they arrived to the appointed place he was more than slightly relieved. He sighed as he shrugged off his pack, and watched as the researchers frolicked about their new find. Mack wasn't as visibly impressed with the structure, crossing his arms passively and puffing on his pipe in his usual fashion, but he did seem to take some interest in it. From a ways away he studied it, and though he was hardly one to question things like ancient scriptures or carvings, something about this place didn't sit well with him. After a while, he approached, taking note of Esmond's verbal observations.

As he drew near to the entrance he felt the coolness of the stone with his palm, and he sniffed at the air all the while. After a moment he withdrew from there and wandered somewhat further into the opening, and he persisted with his obvious sniffing.

"I don't like this..." he muttered with a snarl, speaking just loud enough to be heard but not loud enough to be considered a true warning.

He tapped his pipe clean on the stone wall and then slid it into his pocket.

 
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"I'm not paying you to like your job, Mr. Erris," Magda commented from the small area she'd designated as their research camp. The other attendants were busy moving about like ants, clearing ground and setting up, but Mags had her eye on the man as he approached the entrance of the site.

Moving to grab another sizeable bundle from one of the pack horses, Magda struggled with getting her arms around it well enough to carry and gave a huff. So with a languid flick of her wrist and a muttered incantation, the bundle lifted off the horse and floated in the air to follow her. She approached the entrance with a wide and wary gaze, "Please take some time while we set up out here to scout forward and set up the torches. Assess the structure to the best of your ability and look for any signs of ...inhabitants."

Another wrist flick and the bundle settled with a contained clatter at his feet.

"We're counting on you for our safety, Mr. Erris."
 
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It wasn't that he was ignoring her. In fact he was listening to her quite intently, but he did seem to be well enveloped in the surround as she spoke to him. It was uncommon for the hairs on the back of his neck to stand on end at the sight of something so unremarkable as a hole in the wall, but this place had managed to do it to him. He couldn't be sure why, maybe just the uncertainty of it all, but something really put him off. Then, after a few moments of quiet, he grabbed up the bundle she'd set down.

"You bet, boss."

He lingered there only long enough to gather himself a torch, and then he was off and on into the darkening depths of the structure.


It grew more cool and damp as he moved further into the structure, but other than signs of age he didn't come across anything of any interest or alarm. There were all sorts of carving and depictions, but he couldn't make sense of them. But that wasn't his business, his was the string of torches that he had left in his wake, and would continue to place as he carried on. But, before long even that became not such a simple task.

"Shit."

After moving more than far enough in to be out of sight from the entrance, he came to a crossroads. He moved himself to the center and tried - to no avail - to decipher which way he should go from the carvings on the walls. He began to pace between the archways presented to him, which he continued until one ill placed step brought his foot upon a particular stone which sank some under his weight.

There came a loud sound, and Mack's attention snapped too so that he might determine what was happening.

There came a gentle rumbling, and then the pathway that had been directly ahead was suddenly slammed shut with a smooth slab of stone that had slid down from above. The impact ejected stones and dust, all of which promptly coated Mack and reduced him to a coughing, breathless mess.

More than the mess, though, he was a little more concerned about how much actual shit he was about to be in. But... at least there were still two other paths for them to take.

"Ah...shit."

 
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Loud enough to echo out to the research camp, Magda looked up with wild eyes at the sound and the sudden poof of dust that plumed out of the great stone archway. With a blinked she shared a glance at Esmond who murmured something about a cave in, and that was quite enough to get her moving. Even if she didn't particularly care for Mack's company, he was still a human life under her authority which meant she was responsible for injuries and ... well, Magda didn't want to think about it.

"Stay here with the team, finish setting up. I'm going to check on Mack."

Her boots carried her quickly across stone and root, pausing briefly in the entrance to peer in through the dust, "Mack?!"

The call echoed in with a curious ringing.

"If you can hear me, stay where you are! I'm coming in-" the torches were at least offering some buffer to the darkness, so she followed their trail in at a brisk pace until she came to the same antechamber he stood within. When he turned to look at her he was covered nose to toe in a layer of dust and debris, "Great Gabiri! What in Arethil happened here? Are you alright?"
 
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Though he could do little else other than cough and fuss given that there was little more than dirt and dust to fill his lungs, he didn't dwell on that. Instead, he dwelt on the sound of Magdalena's voice drawing near, and the story that he'd better come up with quick if he was going to spare himself from the looming admonishment.

"Great Gabiri! What in Arethil happened here? Are you alright?"
​
"Yeah, yeah" he said between coughs, "I'm alright..."

There was one problem with the whole situation for him. He wasn't a liar. He hated liars. It seemed to him he had no choice but to tell the truth, no matter how much frustration it might generate. Besides, what the hell did it matter to him, anyway? The way he figured it, he'd at least spared them of making the same blunder, and he did so without the risk of someone else standing in the wrong place at the wrong time. If anything, he should be thanked for uncovering such a deadly contraption.

"I think I sprung a trap, but... no harm done, right?"

 
"A...trap?" Magda frowned, her gaze quickly casting about with greater concern and respect, "That must mean-"

"This is a burial chamber," Esmond's voice followed shortly after as he waved his way in through the dust, "or a tomb housing something either very important or very dangerous. They did not implement protective and defensive measures in locations of commerce or community."

Magda looked to him, the ridge of her brow furrowed, "We are not prepared to handle something like this."

"Nonsense!" Esmond waved her concern off, "I spent years studying ancient dwarven structures and wrote my Maester's thesis on just that. We simply must exercise extra precautions. Now," Esmond approached Mack, "tell me exactly what happened so we can further examine the chamber for other activations."
 
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The dust had hardly settled and Mack was still brushing himself off when Esmond started to approach. And Mack, who so naturally sought to strike a chord when it was so obviously strung too tight, gave it an effort which he would say was admirable to not be an ass. Or at least, not a complete one.

As Esmond came near with his questions, which sounded a lot more like demands, Mack straightened himself up some and simply... stared. He stared back at Esmond with a somewhat stern look, and then stepped forward closer to him to close what little gap there now was. Then, in a quick, alarming and terribly extra motion, Mack reached into his pocket and withdrew his pipe. Esmond was visibly... unimpressed. Mack smiled a toothy smile, and then slid the pipe into his mouth as he turned on his heel and began walking into the center again.

"I do believe," he declared, "that somewhere in this vicinity, there was a trigger, and when I stepped on it..."

Mack felt his foot sink slightly further down. and his eyes drifted down to see that the stone he had stepped on had been depressed.

And then as before, there came a loud sound.

"Oh for fu-"

And once again, one of the archways was made shut with a great slam. Only, this time, the slab that descended was not as well preserved. When the dust from this eventually settled, they'd see a large fracture in the stone, and at its base a large chunk of it shifted out of place - just enough for someone to squeeze through.

Between coughing and waving dust away from his face, Mack spat out, "that happened!"

 
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Magda, perhaps the only smart one in the lot presently assembled, decidedly did NOT move from where she stood now that she was aware of the traps. She wanted to raise the point as Esmond moved in, but found herself cut off by the simple curiosity of wanting to hear Mack's response.

The moment Mack moved, her eyes went to his feet and she saw the slightly raised stone slab before he felt it. Her mouth opened to yell at him, a hand raised to stop his progress, but all that managed to come out was a strangled HUH!

A cringe jerked itself over her figure at the deafening sound of the stone slab slamming down and cracking.

"STOP-" Magda heaved with a fresh boil of anger through the dust, "MOVING."

"We heard a loud noise!" one of the attendants from outside came rushing in, coughing in the dust.

"NAH!" Magda threw a hand at them but the attendant couldn't see her.

"Is everyone-" the third trap slab fell victim to yet another unwary foot and the third stone slab slammed down.

There was a deathly silence that followed. When the dust settled, each and every person in the chamber was covered with a layer of dust and debris so thick it looked like they'd been standing abandoned in an attic for a century.

Magda. Was. Livid.
 
The second stone coming down had been bad enough, but at least it seemed as though they'd be able to get past the blocker. He gave a bit of a disgruntled hum as he looked to the newly poised barricade, crossing his arm under the other. He puffed on his pipe to no avail, and he pulled it from his mouth to see that whatever leaf had been smoldering inside had been blown away.

"We heard a loud noise!"
​
His eyes grew wide as the thought of yet another mishap crossed his mind.

He didn't have the time to turn and give whatever vain effort he could muster to slow the approach of the person approaching. Or rather, he didn't have the faith it would succeed. Instead, he resigned himself to what he simply knew was about to unfold.

As a third sound followed by the loud slam of another stone slab falling into place rang out, Mack was hardly even phased by it. He stood rather still there in the center of the room as dust rained down on him and the others, and once it had all settled to an acceptable degree he pulled something from his pocket. He gave himself a bit of a shake, deposited a bit more dried leaf in his pipe, and with a match he lit it and turned to the others.

A quick look amongst the disgruntled few told him all he needed to know.

A cloud of smoke enveloped his features, and he said with a terribly casual inflection, "well, at least we know what to expect. Is everyone alright?"

 
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"I'm fine."
"No damage here."

Magda's face was red beneath the layer of dust and dirt and the moment the last word hit Mack's teeth, the build-up of fury unleashed itself in a horrible growling holler that echoed oddly within the chamber. Her sister would have been mortified by it, but her sister also hadn't figured out how to express herself beyond her limits of cordiality and propriety. There was nothing proper about this.

Nothing casual.

They might have very well just locked themselves out of a very important discovery.

At this point, given there were no more doors to have slammed shut upon them, Magda rounded on the person nearest her--Mack--and promptly swiped the pipe right out from his mouth.

"I TOLD YOU-" stomp stomp stomp stomp she stalked back out of the chamber until she reached the edge of the bluff, "NO SMOKING AROUND THE RESEARCH SITES."

Then promptly snapped the pipe in two and tossed both pieces out into the free air beyond the edge where they then plummeted into obscurity. If she were a fire breathing dragon she would have been roaring flames all over creation around them. With another haggard yell of frustration she stomped back off down the pathway through the woods.

"That..." said Esmond piped up, his balls in his throat, "could have gone worse."
 
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Mack's eye had avoided Magda. He hadn't done so consciously, but his instincts had obviously known better. Or worse. But whatever smugness he had garnered from the others sounding off without harm was quickly snatched away. And so was his pipe.

My pipe...

He turned, watching in a mix of bewilderment and horror as Magdalena Elbion quite explicitly made herself known. And, much to what would be her phantom's appreciation, there was a certain gravitas to the snapping of the pipe to Mack. Were he to have a tail and ears he'd have promptly laid them against himself and curled.

... what the hell am I supposed to do now!?

But he was wordless. He was motionless. He could only stare in shock as she disappeared out from there. He'd have reached for his pipe just then but... well.

"That...could have gone worse."
​
And Mack's head slowly turned to him, as wide eyed as a child who'd just seen Santa, only instead of a sack of toys it was a sack of fuck you Mack.

And, for the first time, he spoke as genuinely as one man to another to Esmond as he ever had, "you're kidding, right?"

 
No, Esmond had not been kidding. The young man blew out his cheeks and began to brush himself off, "Well," he began as he glanced to the others, one who looked just as cowed as Mack, the other two appearing as though they'd weathered worse storms, "I've not experienced it first hand myself but I've heard stories. Miss Elbion is one to stay in good graces with."

Of course Esmond had his own reasons for wanting to do just that, but there was credence to the tales of Magdalena Elbion's destructive and dangerous power.

Esmond offered Mack a meek smile, "Well ... let's get this place cleaned up. Everyone be on your guard for more foot-traps. There may be more than simple offensive mechanisms at play here."

Magda was gone for over an hour, returning as the sun began its descent in the sky. They had only a few hours left of daylight, but for those familiar with Magi's expeditionary teams, that hardly mattered at all. When she strode into the chamber, she found it clear and swept clean of the settled dust and stone litter. She spoke not a word to anyone and no one ventured to bother her as they went about their usual business of taking notes, drawing the likeness of their surroundings, and firming up the campsite.

"Mr. Erris," she finally addressed the man as she stood before the first of the stone door slabs to fall, "please ready several torches."

There was a hole at the bottom beneath the slab where a chunk of it had broken off in the slam-ening and crumbled into the antechamber. It was barely big enough for an average sized person to fit, but Magda had begun shedding her outer layers, dropping her coat and undercoat to the side before rolling up the sleeves of her tunic.

"You're not doing what I think you are?" Esmond approached to pick up her discarded clothing.

"I'm the smallest person in the party," Magi replied, "I believe I can fit through the opening at the bottom. There may be a release mechanism on the other side. Mr. Keswick please find some boulders outside to shore up the opening."
 
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He couldn't help but watch. I mean, come on. He was a little disappointed when the disrobing came to an end, but he gave his head a little shake and told himself he'd have better luck skiing uphill in an avalanche - especially after the whole springing not one, but two traps thing. Then he stopped and gave his head another little shake, and reminded himself that she had just smashed his pipe. A smile found his lips as his eyes wandered off, and then with a third and final shake of his damn head, he brought himself back to reality.

What the hell was in the dust here, anyway?

Torches, right.

He made short work of getting a few torches ready, and likely to everyone's surprise, he did so without so much as a word. That was until he brought himself up alongside Esmond, giving the man a rather generous pat on the back.

"Look, we can either pack up and go home, and not get paid, or we can get a little dirty," he smiled that toothy smile at him, and brushed a little excess dust off of Esmond's shoulders, "what's a little more dust?"

He couldn't help but have a little more respect for the man if he was able to contend with the reality that was Magdalena Elbion - or Ms. Elbion to him - and still be as upright as he was. The guy probably couldn't fight worth a fuck, but he had spirit. Mack could give him that.

 
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"No one is going home," Magda intoned flatly from where she stood before the door, "until either I say so or I am dead."

Esmond sputtered between the two of them, "I had no intentions of leaving! But surely there is more we can do here without risking life and limb...?"

"Probably," she raised her brows lightly as she eyed the narrow opening beneath the slab then stooped down to try and peer through, "but I'll leave that to you and the rest of the team. Keswick, the stones!"

"Here they are," Keswick hobbled over, two large stones in his arms. He was a stout young lad built like a stretched dwarf and clearly played the part of muscles for the team more often than he did any solid research. But where Mack was lean from probably too much drink and too little solid meals, Keswick was thick through the limbs and middle from just the opposite. He puffed, red in the cheeks, as he set the large stones down and began to bully them into place. They were just a finger or two smaller than the opening, which would at least provide some net of safety should anything ... go awry.

"Give me that," Magda reached up to take a lit torch from Mack, offering him a keen glare for his trouble, and stooped down on the ground before the door once more.

She peered again, sighed that she could not see much of anything, and so thrust the lit torch forward through the opening and set it clattering across the stone behind it, then flattened herself down upon her belly and scooched along on her elbows to look again.

"Blast it all, I can't see anything. There's debris in the way," and so without any further ado or safety checks, Magdalena Elbion began to army-crawl her way forward. She had to turn her head to the side to fit under the stone slab and reach her arms forward, but couldn't seem to make much headway once she'd gotten her shoulders under, "someone give me a push through, I don't have anything to grab."
 
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Mack watched with anticipation. He was without doubt that Magdalena would make short work of this obstruction, and so he idly reached for his pipe and- damn it. He pursed his lips in general disinterest and folded his arms across his chest. What the hell was he going to do with himself now in times like this where he was to wait, circle around and take a seat? Pfft. Although, that didn't sound half bad, at least until he heard the muffled sounds of Magda's voice calling out.

Magdalena Elbion said:
"someone give me a push through, I don't have anything to grab."
Click to expand...

He snickered a bit at the position she'd got herself caught up in, and were he around a little different company he might make a joke or two. But after what had occurred just a short while ago he decided he wasn't going to test anybody else. At least not today. He got the feeling that Keswick fellow might flatten him if he said something a little too... anyway.

"Alright," he said, putting his palms against the soles of her feet. Then he began to push, but not too quickly in case she needed him to stop. He had no idea what was on the other side, and the last thing he wanted to do was piss her off again.

At least not today.

 
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Esmond, as ever willing to be a hero, or at the very least useful in the eyes of their glorious leader, had clapped his hands together in preparation to provide the necessary push. But he faltered several steps away as he looked down to what he had available to push.

There was Magdalena Elbion's ass staring him right in the face.

"Ahm-" said Esmond as he stared back.

Mack moved in and took hold of her feet by the boots. Right, her feet. He watched with awkward anticipation as the man provided her the footing to push against and slowly, with some noises of effort, some wriggling about on the floor, her rear soon disappeared through the slab opening.

Magda, on her end, sputtered as she was forced forward into the thick miasma of old cobwebs thick with dust that stretched across her face. She floundered, briefly, trying to wipe them from her face while also trying to keep her wits about her when she realized quite suddenly -

"Stop - stop!" she was stuck.

One of the straps at her waist that held on her utility pouches on had caught in the jagged surface of the broken slab. She twisted, trying to get to the buckle, but her belly was firmly lodged against the ground. With a grunt she attempted to push herself back out, but found no give that way either.

"My utility belt is caught,"

The domain of the crypt responded with a deep, low rumble that sent lose debris and dust falling from the ceiling. Well that wasn't good.

"Gods," Esmond looked around an the rest of the crew suddenly all froze in what they were doing, eyes going wide, "we have to get her out of there. Quickly, pull her back out!"

"YOU WILL NOT," Magda shouted back at him, "I'm nearly through! Pass me a blade so I can cut the belt!"
 
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"Stop - stop!"
​
And so he did, and repositioned himself a bit more comfortably, but he left one hand placed firmly against the bottom of her foot - so she knew he was still present. And then came the commotion, and it was not a welcome one. The shuddering of the crypt, this time at least, did cause him some alarm. He had no intention of this slab of stone coming down on Mags, and he also had no intention of putting an end to this expedition in any other way. Pulling her out of this mess would only send them packing.

"I'm nearly through! Pass me a blade so I can cut the belt!"
​
"Esmond! Where is your sense of adventure!"

He reached for a knife he had tucked away on his person, and reached carefully through what little bit of the opening he could to safely pass it to her. Once she had it, he took up his place again, ready to continue helping her through.

He looked up to Esmond with a wry smile, saying a little more quietly, "where's your eye for opportunity?"

None of them were blind by any means, and Mack certainly wasn't.

 
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She'd be lying if she said there'd been no rise of desperation in that moments-long wait for a blade to shuffle its way to her side. The rumbling had persisted and more than one crumbling piece of the ceiling had fallen on her in the interim. Even if the stone slab seemed fairly well lodged in place, it did not stop the rising hammer-beat of her heartrate in her chest. Magda pawed at the blade, twisted as much as she could to get it slipped beneath the leather strap of her utility belt, and began to saw away at it.

"GAH!" she'd jabbed her leg with the tip of it more than once, but a few more saws and the whole thing popped free.

"Got it!" Mack would feel her shove off from the hand still secured around a foot while the other foot gave an errant kick into the air. Magda felt it hit something but couldn't say what and wasn't going to stop and ask. She squeezed herself through until her hips were clear of the hole and then rolled to frantically extricate herself from it entirely. By the time her legs had followed her all the way through, she was panting from the short bought of terror and collapsed back against the tunnel wall to catch her breath.

"I need-" Magda swallowed, gasped, "another torch. The first one went out."

It was pitch black in the tunnel save what little light was coming through the hole.
 
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Each passing moment seemed to heighten the collective anxiety of those present, and Mack wasn't immune to this. It wasn't like him to get too agitated by things like this, but he found himself becoming just that as he started whispering come on as Magda struggled to free herself from her predicament. He even winced at her pained cry. But soon enough she managed to free herself and start pulling herself through with a little help from the footing he'd provided her, in more ways than one.

He pushed forward with his hand to give her a little extra leverage, saying, "there you g-"

Her errant kick landed quite squarely upon his face, nearly crushing his nose under its frantic might. He fell backward but she had found enough leverage to pull herself through without any further aid from him. And, well, good for her, because while she got herself a little more comfortably through the tunnel, Mack sat with his palms in his face as he nursed his new injury. He'd be fine, but god damn that hurt.

"I need-" Magda swallowed, gasped, "another torch. The first one went out."
​
"Sweet Astra, oh god, why," Mack nearly rocked back and forth as he sat there, the pain quite acute at first. After a few deep breaths he gave his head a shake and contorted his face around in a few weird ways. Then, out of no where it seemed, a torch was brought abruptly before him. Keswick was kind enough to fetch him one, but not quite kind enough to pass it through the tunnel.

"Alright, fine," he said, sniffing and then snatching the torch from Keswick's grasp.

He moved to the opening, peering through at first to make sure he wasn't going to light her on fire in doing this, and then he slid the torch through with a meaningful shove. As it reached the other side, he said, "are you alright? Do you need anything else?"

 
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This wasn't how things were meant to go. These expeditions were meant to be done with the utmost care for the locale, potential discoveries, invaluable artefacts and information and ... yes, the personnel. Magi closed her eyes while trying not to imagine the stone slab slamming down upon her, entrapping her for one of the most morbid and lonely deaths she could imagine.

Drowning would have been preferred to being crushed to death in a dark dwarven tunnel with no one there to see in her last moments.

A fresh torch skittered across the stone, bringing light and warmth. She opened her eyes and leaned forward to take it up by the base, wincing in the brightness of the flames. Now that she could see, her curiosity strongly overrode her lingering fear and pushed her to her feet.

"I'm ok," Magi answered, cringing at the sting of the cuts on her leg. They'd bled through the material of her pants, but it didn't feel bad enough to warrant causing a fuss over it.

"Pass me my pack," she followed up as her eyes turned to take in the tunnel, "I'm going to walk down the tunnel and see what I can find... I don't see anything here to disarm the doors."

"Is - is that wise? To go down there alone?" Esmond was pacing beside Mack, clearly distraught by the idea of Magdalena's perilous sense of adventure, "What if there are more traps?"

"Well I've only my own two feet to look after," Magda's voice responded, "and they're half the size of Mack's."

Esmond immediately looked at Mack's feet and furrowed his brow, clearly not understanding the significance of what the size of them had to do with any of it, "There must be ... something else we can do."

"Keep taking notes on the antechamber."

"That hardly qualifies," Esmond shook his head, "maybe I should try squeezing through as well."

"Don't be daft."

Silence.

"Your big brain would never fit."
 
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From where Mack knelt by the opening, he remained mostly silent throughout the exchange. Even he glanced down at his own feet, and then he looked at Esmond's. Mack's were bigger, to which he smiled wryly before slowly frowning. He wasn't exactly sure what she meant either, or how it pertained... but at least his feet were bigger.

"Don't be daft."
​
Esmond and he exchanged looks, Esmond's of concern and Mack's was... concerningly contemplative.

"Your big brain would never fit."
​
"She's right," he said finally, shrugging off his jacket.

"You don't actually expect to fit through there if I can't," Esmond replied hastily.

"Your head might not fit through," he said, having stood up to relieve himself of his few accessories, the blade that hung on his hip and a few knives strapped here and there, "but my feet might," he winked, "besides, you're all very safe out here it would seem, so my job is in there."

He knelt down near to opening again and began to untie his boots, "and if there's any way to open the door from out here, do you really think I'll find it?"

He set his footwear aside and gave Esmond a final look, saying, "pass me those in a minute, would ya?"

Once he began, he immediately regretted his decision. The tightness of the opening scraped and pulled against him, tearing at his shirt and scratching his flesh, but with a good deal of difficulty it appeared as though he might make it through.

 
She was waiting for her pack to be passed over and, despite the ominous situation, felt herself growing impatient while the boys picked at one another on the other side of the stone slab. Brow furrowed, a hand holstered itself on a hip, fingers tapping.

"Can-" more squabbling.

"What-" Mack was saying something she couldn't quite understand.

There came some scraping, some grunting.

"Are you two-"

Magda blinked as she felt something brush by her foot and looked down to see Mack's head popping through the hole at the bottom, right between her feet.

"MACK! What are you doing?!"
 
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Of all the things he could have chosen to do with this time, this was his grand plan: to squeeze himself through an opening that a small woman had enough difficulty getting through. He tried to move his arm a bit this way... the other arm that... he felt like a tangled mess with little more than fingertips and toes to push and pull without any room for much else. Worse, as he shoved himself through his arm got caught up and rolled against him, painlessly, but quite uncomfortably, but at least his other arm was able to stretch out.

And he thought it was going to go well...

A few more shimmys...

His hand found purchase, and with a terrible scraping against him he was able to pull himself through enough for his head to turn more freely. The air around him felt a little clearer.

Magdalena Elbion said:
"MACK! What are you doing?!"​
Click to expand...

"What..." he said, strain in his voice as he pulled himself a little further through, "does it look like?"

With some wincing and grinding he managed himself through enough that his other arm became free, and with this victory he rested there a moment. Perilously so given the gargantuan weight that could quite possible become dislodged, but he seemed unbothered in the absence of rumbling and shaking.

"I'm paid to keep the party safe. They are all fine out there."

He seemed quite serious, despite his... position.

Truth be known, without his pipe to puff on, he'd probably go half mad waiting around doing nothing - which is about all he'd be able to do out there. And he didn't know how much longer he could keep from trying to irritate Esmond again.

 
The tunnel was not especially broad of space and so as Mack's figure continued to prise itself through the opening, Magda found herself with very little room elsewhere to plant her feet out of the way that wouldn't involve her tripping over or falling upon him.

This. This was absurd! He could get stuck! Ever so much more than she had. He could trigger another shuddering. There was no assurance that they would be able to get back out, or that the stone slab would remain as it was. There could be another quake and it could crack and crumble. There could be an entire cave in now that they'd disturbed the stability of the place.

But Fried Dumplings and Dove Eggs, for whatever reason having another person on this side of the slab had fostered in her a tremendous rush of relief. Magda twisted as he shimmied himself through, waiting for the bulk of his chest to pass beneath her before shifting her feet around to stand facing him.

She leaned down, torch held just over the man with a finger pointing accusingly at his nose of all things, "I said pass me my pack," her eyes narrowed, "not pass me my Mack."

Then a smirk appeared, and her pointing hand shifted to an offered hand. Once he took it, she helped yank him the rest of the way through.
 
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It was so oddly comfortable to just rest there a moment with his shoulders and arms finally free again. So much so, it was almost startling when Magdalena leaned over him.

"I said pass me my pack," his eyes followed her finger to nearly the tip of his still very tender nose, "not pass me my Mack."
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His eyes turned up to hers, and then he shared her smirk, taking her hand, "oh yeah... that."

It was a considerable bit easier to get the rest of himself through with Magdalena's help, and when he was finally upright again he nodded his thanks as he recovered his breath. He took a quick and instinctive look around with the light that the torch offered, but then just as quickly knelt down near the opening again.

"Alright, I'm through, pass me the pack, and my things, and we should probably take another torch," he looked up to her, "right?"

 
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