Open Chronicles Untying the Knot: Riddles Beneath Alliria

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"A mage that left the college of Elbion and later came back to burn it. I lost three friends when he came." Garrick answered Caliane Ruinë as he walked over to the other treasure hunter.

Then his first hit Cosmin Lowdust square in the jaw.

Just because he thought the Necromancer might have Maho as an answer didn't mean he wasn't still feeling the after effects of the attack.
 
CRACK!

The force of Garrick's dirty swing was enough to send Cosmin stumbling back, catching a hold of the wall to keep himself from fully toppling. A moment passed before he caught his breath, and another before he steadied himself enough to resume his usual dickish act.

"Don't suppose it's 'Insolence'?" He questioned the door, standing upright once more. "Would at least make this one here poetic. Otherwise there's just one more college-taught dewbeater out there, and that's a tragic enough facet to make me envy a riddle-door's lot in life... Power of love? A heart? Ooh, broken heart, now that's romantic," yet his voice remained as impassive as ever.
 
The sound of a cane’s clacking on the floor of the passageway to the current room announced the arrival of an old orc, shortly before his wheezing breath.

A strange monkey sat on his shoulder and the orc stopped, leaning heavily on his staff, as he observed the scuffle break loose.

“Oh dear.”

He seemed to have arrived at the wrong moment. Nevertheless, he squinted at the plaque on the door.

“Oh my.... Am I a ghost?”
 
Trailing behind the elderly orc was another mage, one who was thoroughly confused about why there was a series of secret stone chambers hidden beneath Alliria. Unfortunately, he didn't stumble upon a hidden society or a bandit hideout. Instead, all he heard was bickering and the sound of a punch being thrown.

Entering the stone chamber, he shifted his gaze to everybody, including the old orc he had followed. "What in the world..." He said incredulously, first seeing the odd collection of people and then the door itself.

He stepped closer to inspect the plaque, waiting for one mage to stop passive-aggressively answering the inanimate object before doing so. He bit his lip in thought, glancing at Urberus. "You might be on to something. If not a ghost, a zombie or revenant of some description."
 
Garrick's punch landed satisfyingly on Cosmin Lowdust's face. He began speaking of insolence prompting Garrick to reply "Perhaps Revenge" to the door (Harrier ).

But then Cosmin went on. And on. And something about throwing a punch just made you want to throw another one. Garrick was beginning to understand how bar brawls really happened.

Once Cosmin said "Envy a doors duty" Garrick threw another blow towards the students gut. Though both were mages, he wouldn't pull any magic. If the gloves came off, they were likely to kill each other.
 
Strangely enough, getting punched one makes one prepare for another swing. When Garrick stepped up and took an awkward swing back at his door-facing fellow, Cosmin stepped forwards and gave the instigator a BIIIIIG hug that stopped his suckerpunch before it could begin.

"Please, just quit it," he offered evenly, letting go and taking a half step back. "Our friends here are trying to solve a riddle, let's give them some space." Bowing to Urberus and Ezra in concession, Cosmin made his way to the back of the group once more. With this many new arrivals, he could go back to taking it easy- The way forwards would be open before long, if there's any luck left in the world. "While we're at the abstracts, how about 'Hope'? Or the letter 'G'? Missed that one in the first tirade."
 
Garrick Knight Seyda Caliane Ruinë Ezra Archiva Urberus Cosmin Lowdust

For convenience, the door began a running list of incorrect guesses.

Ignore me and I burn like rage
Strike me down and I shall rise again
Break me asunder and I shall find my destiny

Rebellion
Jerik
Candle
Fire
Orb
Seeing stone
Magnifying glass
F
Insolence
Power of love
Heart
Broken heart
Ghost
Undead
Revenge
Hope
G

 
The plaque itself offered nothing. Seydra regarded the plain copper plating, the words again etched with almost too-fine tell-tale grooves. He ran a finger across the riddle before turning and settling into a slow pace, absently counting the paces between the bricked walls. Low, aching pressure was beginning to bloom behind his eyes. Here, there were no murals or otherwise contextual hints that had previously and generously guided their logic. Only bare stone and heat-penned metal, demanding their wits to twist and knot until they could fathom the logic behind the writ. Seyda felt trapped, as if he were caught in the lecturing halls and forced to scrawl through a nerve-rending examination.

“…Truth?” He hazarded after a long beat.

Harrier
 
Ezra sighed as the door remained still, not even giving a hint as to how close they were. He scratched his chin, trying to think of a feasible answer to the riddle. He glanced over at Cosmin, shrugging, "It's possible. If you're willing to build a complicaed underground puzzle room, might as well make it a scathing review on society."

Still, he might as well guess again. "Is it passion? Perseverance? One of those fortune cookies?" Okay, maybe one of those wasn't as serious as the rest. "How about a martyr?"
 
"Okay, we're going with the abstract," Cosmin remarked through a sigh, though he was clearly excited by the prospect of this room's approaching end. "How about hope, eh? Not the ragingest of fires, but it's a good one- Enough to take down mountains and other such trivialities."
 
Ignore me and I burn like rage
Strike me down and I shall rise again
Break me asunder and I shall find my destiny

Rebellion
Jerik
Candle
Fire
Orb
Seeing stone
Magnifying glass
F
Insolence
Power of love
Heart
Broken heart
Ghost
Undead
Revenge
Hope
G
Peasants
Truth
Perseverance
Fortune cookie
Martyr
Hope
 
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"Aaaaand one more 'Hope' to be sure," Cosmin concluded, a smile creeping across his face as the second one was added to the list. "And determination, tenacity, resolve-- Really just get the synonyms out of the way, clear the waters, maybe get another twitch in. How about it?"
 
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A smirk appeared on the mage's face at the door's faint twitch. So he was close, then, and if he were to hazard a guess, it was 'martyr' that did it.

First, he glanced to Cosmin as he went over his guesses. "Trying to see if perseverance is the answer, I'm sure," Ezra remarked with a raised eyebrow. "Let's see. How's faith sound? Religion, that sort of thing." He was close, he had to be.
 
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Ignore me and I burn like rage
Strike me down and I shall rise again
Break me asunder and I shall find my destiny

Rebellion
Jerik
Candle
Fire
Orb
Seeing stone
Magnifying glass
F
Insolence
Power of love
Heart
Broken heart
Ghost
Undead
Revenge
Hope
G
Peasants
Truth
Perseverance
Fortune cookie
Martyr
Hope
Determination
Tenacity
Resolve
Faith
Religion

No twitch.

Cosmin Lowdust Ezra Archiva
 
Leaning over towards Ezra, Cosmin smirked past a whisper. "Reckon we can get it to the bottom of the door? What then, riddle over?"

"Hey, door," he turned to address the aforementioned fixture, "how about 'pain', or 'anger'? Those are sort of like passion. Devotion, ardor, and fervor for good measure. Any ticks that we're headed down the right path? Fortune cookies seem a touch on the nose."
 
Humans were strange things. Grayhorn had been lost in Alliria for days now and all the directions he was given just kept taking him to places he didn't want to go. One lead him to this house full of people laying on the floor with a weird smelling thing in pipes. Another took him to a place full of people with knives and clubs. They needed his shirt for coins though to help with a sick grandma. He gave it to them to help her out. Never was good for people to be sick. Once he was sent to a trash pile, although there was food there so not so bad.

And now Grayhorn found himself going down this long tunnel until he ended up in a room full of others. A bunch of scribbles were on this thing but someone had said them out loud. These people seemed really smart so he just stayed quiet and listened. They couldn't seem to agree on the answer. It must be a hard riddle. He had an idea of what it could be but he wasn't as smart or clever as these people.

After awhile though the komodi finally said from the back of the room in a voice mixed between typical komodi accent and dwarven accent, "Bread."

Harrier
 
Ezra glanced over to Cosmin, listening to the whisper with a slight chuckle. "It'd probably give up on us, I'd say. Still, don't suppose you brought a dictionary with you?"

He clapped his hands, looking to the door. "Alright, we've got this. Maybe." He went over what he had said before, trying to think of what provoked a twitch. Seeing that Cosmin's list yielded no response, passion was probably out. "It has to be something abstract, something with deep meaning, like belief or-"

Then he heard someone say 'bread.' His gaze turned to the back of the room, landing on a komodi with an unusual accent. "No, that can't be it. It can't be something as simple and easy as that." A moment passed, and he felt a bit of doubt enter his mind. "Well, unless fortune cookie was what... No, that can't be it. That was a joke, after all. It couldn't possibly be that, right?"

It did make sense, though...
 
The Komodi newcomer's guess - bread - produced a full-fledged shiver and the door grated open. The fortune cookie guess had been the source of the earlier twitch - but alas, fortune cookies are unleavened.

The door revealed a weapons rack with only one occupant: a longsword whose sheath bore the inscription MAN SHALL NOT LIVE BY BREAD ALONE.

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This is the Word of Atollor, sacred to a fire goddess of the Gulf of Ryt. Nearly anywhere in northern Epressa, except for the fire giant's lands, it will mark you as a friend worth an offer of hospitality. The hottest flame will not steal the blade's keenness or scorch its fixtures. Wear it well, and remember: sometimes the simplest solution is the best.

A passage led down to another level; a trapdoor and ladder led upward, clearly offering an exit like before.

Caliane Ruinë Garrick Knight Seyda Grayhorn Ezra Archiva Urberus Cosmin Lowdust
 
The komodi blinked when the door shivered and opened up. Did doors do that in the damp places of human cities? That did not seem right. He was a builder and had never heard of anyone making doors like that. This strange door kept him preoccupied for a bit until he suddenly realized there was a sword behind it on a rack. Who left weapons in places they could rust? Seemed like the builder was not very good at their job.

Grayhorn looked about the room a bit as if waiting for someone to say something or do something. Eventually he said, "Who solved riddle?" He looked at everyone. "You won sword." He went back to looking at them all.

Harrier
 
Ezra was brought out of his circling train of thought when he heard the door scrape against the stone floor, opening at the word. Behind it was a sword, one who fire itself seemed to yield to. The College mage was left frozen, mentally kicking himself for being so close to the answer without realizing it.

He sighed and was about to congratulate the komodo on his successful answer when he asked who had solved it. Ezra looked at the man with an incredulous look, saying, "You did. Bread was the answer, you got it right." The summoner gestured to the sword and then to him once again to add, "That's your sword. You won it, so it's yours."