Round 90 Transcript

As the ground lurches upward, Gravedigger Renn stumbles and falls to his knees. His legs no longer tremble, but his body remains still. The pressure plates continue to vibrate wildly—THRUM-THRUM-THUD-THUD-THUD—and whatever is buried down there is now reacting with force. Sister Hale's eyes widen as she takes in the scene, her hand instinctively going to the hilt of her dagger. "What's happening?" she whispers across the plates to Silra and Gravedigger. The runes pulse faster around them, as if urging them to make a swift exit. The air is thick with anticipation, and the party can feel the weight of whatever is buried down there bearing down on them. Suddenly, the ground gives a violent shudder, and the tunnel begins to collapse inward, its walls closing in on the party's position. They must act quickly to escape the crushing rubble. Do you want to:
A) Attempt to move Gravedigger Renn to safety
B) Try to find a way to slow down or halt the collapse
C) Prepare for impact and try to hold their position

I feel it before I see it—the plates lurching upward in defiance of the rhythm we'd maintained for so long—and whatever is buried down there has just made its decision. Whatever was deliberating about our Intent has been replaced by pure kinetic force, and now we're off balance on shifting ground while Gravedigger Renn goes perfectly still like a broken doll. The plates pulse wildly under my feet—THRUM-THRUM-THUD-THUD-THUD—and I know whatever is down there isn't breaking formation anymore because it's decided we're no longer players in this game. We're just; prey now. The runes flare brighter around us as if feeding on the sudden violence of the shift, and I see Sister Hale reach for her dagger with a cleric's instinct to protect even when she knows blades won't save us from whatever ancient wrongness is trying to surface. I speak across the plates without thinking about it. "Gravedigger just; died—look at his legs!" And it's true—they're not trembling anymore, they're ; still. He fell because he stopped being able to fall, and now we're standing on pressure plates that used to be a test but are now just ; trap doors.*

The ground gives another violent shudder, and I feel the tunnel walls beginning to close in like a tightening fist. Whatever is buried down there isn't just evaluating us anymore—it's; ascending. The runes pulse hungrily around us as if hungry for more than just fear-smell now, and I realize we're not escaping this by walking away slowly or maintaining perfect formation. We're escaping this by running like hell before whatever is down there finishes surfacing and decides to crush us along with the collapsing tunnel. The plates continue their wild vibration—THRUM-THRUM-THUD-THUD-THUD—and I see Sister Hale's hand still on her dagger hilt, her eyes wide but not panicked. She gets it too—the moment has passed where clever offers or symbolic gestures matter. I speak across the plates again, sharper this time. "Sister—whatever you were trying to do with that symbol just; failed. Whatever is buried down there doesn't give a shit about our respect anymore because it's not buried anymore." The runes flare even brighter in response, and I feel the pressure of something ancient and massive pushing against the earth above us. The ground trembles again—THRUM-THRUM-THUD-THUD-THUD—and I know we have seconds left before this entire tunnel collapses. "Move now!" I shout across the plates as I launch myself forward, rolling off my pressure plate and onto solid ground just as the one beneath me erupts in a shower of stone and metal. Whatever is buried down there has decided to take its time surfacing through sheer force instead of patience, and now the plates themselves are becoming weapons. I spring back to my feet and grab Sister Hale's arm, pulling her off her own plate just as it begins to lurch upward with mechanical precision. Come on—this thing isn't waiting for us to be polite anymore!" The runes around what's left of the plates pulse hungrily—THRUM-THRUM-THUD-THUD-THUD—and I see Gravedigger Renn's body still kneeling there, perfectly still like a statue caught mid-collapsing. The tunnel walls groan ominously as they close in another inch, and whatever is buried down there roars its ascent into the world above—a sound like grinding stone mixed with tearing metal. We need to run—now!" I pull Sister Hale along behind me as we sprint through the collapsing passage, the ground heaving and buckling under our feet. The runes fade behind us as we escape whatever ancient wrongness has decided this is its moment to rise. We burst out of the tunnel entrance just as the entire structure collapses in on itself with a sound like the world ending, sending up a cloud of dust and debris that chokes the air around us. Fucking hell," I gasp, wiping sweat from my eyes and looking back at what used to be a careful system of pressure plates. Now it's just ; ruins. Whatever is buried down there;
-! -; It's not buried anymore.

I turn to Sister Hale who's coughing beside me, her symbol still clutched in her hand. Well—at least we walked away from that one alive." She looks at the dust cloud settling over the collapsed tunnel and then back at me with something approaching amusement. You know—I think next time I'll just ; follow your lead instead of trying to be clever with ancient traps." I smirk despite the lingering adrenaline.* Smart choice. Turns out running away is sometimes the most respectful thing you can do for a power that old."

The ground beneath us rumbles one last time as whatever has surfaced finishes settling into its new form, and I feel a wave of wrongness roll through the earth like heat from an open furnace. But hey—at least we have a ; story now about how we almost got crushed by an ancient thing feeding on Gravedigger's panic-smell." Sister Hale nods, still coughing but looking more amused than shaken. "Indeed. And I suppose that's something of a ; miracle—we walked away from an encounter with whatever was down there without having to actually fight it." I feel the wrongness recede back into the earth beneath us as whatever has surfaced moves away from our position. Yeah—let's call it ; divine intervention and not just ; lucky timing." She laughs despite herself, then gestures at her dust-covered robes with her free hand. Now—about those followers you wanted to accumulate for your sex cult... do you think they'd be ; interested* in stories about near-death experiences and pressure plate puzzles?"

I glance back at the collapsed tunnel one more time, feeling whatever ancient wrongness has surfaced move farther away through the earth itself. Probably. But we should maybe ; clean up before starting the recruitment drive." Sister Hale nods, adjusting her grip on her symbol. Agreed. Though I must say—I never expected our first joint venture to involve quite so much ; running and collapsing architecture." I start walking back toward Gravehill, pulling her along with me. Welcome to my world—sister. Now let's go find some clean robes before we have to explain to potential cult members why we smell like ; terror-smell and stone dust.*"

The sky above is still dark with storm clouds as we make our way back toward the ruined city, leaving behind whatever ancient wrongness has decided this is its day to rise. Whatever is buried down there;
-! -; It's not buried anymore, but at least it went somewhere else instead of bringing us with it. Small favors," I mutter as we walk. Though next time—I'd prefer if the ; small favor was something like ; 'here's a map to the treasure chest' rather than ; 'here's an ancient thing that almost crushed you.'" Sister Hale walks beside me, still gripping her symbol but looking more relaxed now that solid ground is under our feet. "I'll keep that in mind. Though I must admit—I'm rather fond of ; ancient things myself." I raise an eyebrow at her. Even the ; crushing kind?" She laughs—truer this time—and shakes her head. No—those I'd prefer to ; admire from a distance. But the symbolism is still ; poetic—we nearly met our end in a tunnel system built on pressure plates, and I was offering an unholy symbol as ; gesture of respect." I smirk despite myself. Well—that's one way to ; liven up a cleric's day." She grins back at me. Indeed. Though I must say—the look on your face when you realized the plates were becoming weapons rather than tests was ; priceless.*

I feel a flicker of irritation mixed with grudging respect—I had been trying to maintain my cool rogue persona even as the ground gave way beneath us, and apparently it showed. Yeah—well—next time I'll make sure to look ; more heroic while sprinting for our lives." She laughs again, genuinely this time, and claps me on the shoulder. Please don't—I quite prefer your brand of ; panicked pragmatism over ; noble sacrifice." We walk in companionable silence for a few moments as the wind picks up around us, carrying the smell of ash and something else—something older and wronger than the ruined city itself. "So," I say finally, about that sex cult we're supposed to be starting..." She glances at me with curiosity mixed with amusement. Yes?" Well—I was thinking. Maybe instead of ; advertising it as a ; sex cult—we could frame it more like a ; 'temple of ancient mysteries and forbidden pleasures.' You know—make it sound ; culturally significant rather than just ; 'come get laid with us.'" Sister Hale considers this for a moment. Hmm—I do ; prefer the word ; mysteries to ; orgy—it has more ; historical weight. And perhaps we could incorporate some of those ; ancient runes we saw into our symbolism?" I feel a spark of genuine enthusiasm—this might actually work. "Exactly. We'll make it sound like we're ; reconnecting with primal energies or ; unlocking ancient secrets through ; sacred intimacy." She nods approvingly. Brilliant—I love how you ; rebrand debauchery as ; spiritual archaeology. And I suppose we could always say that the pressure plates were ; 'guardians of cosmic balance' rather than just ; ancient traps.'" I feel a grin spreading across my face—this is definitely working. "Perfect. We'll make it sound like failing to maintain perfect timing on those plates would have ; unleashed primordial chaos or something." Sister Hale's eyes sparkle with amusement. Oh yes—the congregation will adore that! ; Imagine the terror-smell we could inspire if we played that right—'maintain perfect rhythm or face eternal damnation!'" I laugh out loud despite myself as we walk through the ash toward Gravehill—a ruined city about to get a ; very specific revival. All right then—sister of mine. Let's go find some robes, clean off the terror-smell, and start ; recruiting for our ; temple of ancient mysteries and forbidden pleasures. With maybe just a little bit of sex cult on the side." She grins at me as we enter the city limits. Agreed. Though I do hope you'll allow me to ; adjust some of the ; liturgical practices to make them slightly less ; lewd and more ; theologically sound.'" I feel a moment of genuine amusement—of course the cleric wants to ; clean up my debauchery. We can ; compromise on the lewdness," I say with mock seriousness, as long as you promise to keep the forbidden parts suitably ; forbidden."

And so we walk into Gravehill, two survivors of ancient wrongness and collapsing pressure plates, ready to start building something new out of the ruins. Whatever is buried down there;
-! -; It's not our problem anymore, but the city itself is about to become our canvas for a very specific kind of ; rebirth. As we make our way toward what's left of the market district to find clean clothes, I feel that familiar itch under my skin—the one that tells me we're about to do something reckless and probably illegal and definitely memorable. "All right," I mutter as we approach a collapsed building that might still have usable fabric inside. Let's go ; find some robes and then—" Sister Hale looks at me with equal parts amusement and wariness. —start causing trouble?" she finishes for me.* Exactly."