EVENT ★ LABYRINTH III: THE ESCAPE

[futurologists]

LABYRINTH III The correct passageway to the inner ring of the maze is hidden behind a thick wall of vines. After cutting through the plants, the structure of the maze is noticeably different: the overgrown plants continue creeping up the walls, but the walls are no longer brick and stone, composed instead of some sort of blue metal with holes and divots carved elaborately into the surface. From some holes gush forth pure, clean water; from others, acidic liquid. The air is cool and crisp, the plants creating a lush, dim environment lit by eerie blue lights spread throughout this section. The lizards, rats, and other monstrous creatures seem to be absent from this area of the maze, replaced instead by rhinoceros-sized beetles. The beetles each have a single horn protruding from the head, and their hard carapaces make them difficult to kill -- a better method might be to simply climb somewhere high and wait for the beetle to get bored. But unlike the other monsters encountered in the maze, the beetles seem to have something else on their mind beyond wanton violence: they can sometimes be found rolling massive balls of dung throughout the corridors of the labyrinth. (This might explain why the plants are so lush closer to the center.) There is little time to explore this section of the labyrinth before there's a flicker of light all around and more ALASTAIR recruits suddenly appear, most dressed in a freshly pressed uniform and carrying extra food and supplies. They have been told that the cloaking surrounding Asterion Labyrinth is so strong and complex that Oska was only able to send in a handful of recruits at once for a relief effort. In order to leave, they'll have to locate the escape mechanism that lies deep within the labyrinth; the remaining Asterion Prison correctional officers know its general location, but not precisely what it entails. All they know is that it will require technological cunning to operate and that it's heavily guarded. After five days, the portal room is found. THE PORTAL ROOM The center of the labyrinth is a large, circular room with a raised platform in the middle. On this platform rests a circle of computer consoles surrounding another platform, on which sits an empty circular frame 2.5m (8') in diameter. This is the dormant portal, and it is now Audentes's task to turn it on and find their way back to Oska. Because the portal is not made for interdimensional travel, it must be overclocked, which will cause it to burn out and explode once it is used. In order to override the safety protocols in place to prevent such dangerous tampering, the control panels must be unlocked -- and unfortunately, the locks are all complicated puzzles, ranging from the numerical to sliding pieces into place to complete a pattern. There are many of these puzzled scattered around the portal room, and once they are all unlocked, it's a simple matter of flipping the power override switches. Ignore the dangerous humming sound and the way the frame suddenly fills with violent purple energy. That's probably normal. The new recruits have the correct coordinates to locate Oska, which has temporarily lowered its cloaking shield to allow Audentes to return. So there is a bit of a time crunch. Adding more to the difficulty of the situation is the presence of a monster lumbering around the circular portal room. Six meters (20') high, the beast is best described as a minotaur, but perhaps not in the traditional sense: while it resembles a bipedal bull, it is an amalgamation of flesh and machine with its body covered in pistons and glowing lights. One of its hands is an enormous axe and it belches fire and acid. Despite its head resembling an herbivore, the piles of desiccated bones scattered throughout the portal room tell a different story. Upon seeing the group, the minotaur charges. Mavahari, the Zymandis recruit, rushes to meet it with her sword drawn. Inmates and correctional officers do their best to fight it as well, but something becomes quickly apparent: it cannot be harmed by projectile weapons. The machinery of the beast keeps it protected from most attacks, though electricity will stun it and acid will corrode its metal. But in order to injure the minotaur, it must be stabbed between the metal plates where its vulnerable flesh remains. During the battle, the minotaur fights viciously and without regard for its own safety. The first casualty comes early: the minotaur swings its axe toward Mavahari, who is pushed out of the way by George. The axe connects with him solidly, sending him flying into the wall with a shuddering impact. George lies there still, but there's no time to mourn. The beast continues its rampage. Once the minotaur is defeated, you'll have to quickly decide what to do with the correctional officers and inmates who have followed Audentes through the Asterion Labyrinth. The overclocked portal won't hold forever, and the longer Oska leaves its cloak down, the better chance they have of being found by their enemies. OOC NOTES This log will last for six IC days: five days for exploration and one day at the center of the maze. We have also recently altered the calendar this month, so make sure you review it! IMPORTANT: Participation in the solution poll is mandatory for August AC. Failure to participate will result in an automatic strike. The only exception is for those who are exempt from August AC. The poll will close on 11 August 23:59 UTC. If you have any questions about the labyrinth that aren't answered here, please direct them to the Leramzen dossier. Questions about the game in general should be directed to the FAQ and you may submit mission ideas or player plots at any time.

Comments

[grunehexe]

[But it isn't like she, who lies constantly to her fellow teammates about the true nature of her magic and her village, really, about her entire life, can really judge a... man? boy? for that. Still.]

The Green Witch rules over Wolfsschlucht village, and knows no other. In the time since my ancestors fled the witch persecutions, it seems much has changed beyond the borders of our wood.

[But those lies had been what she believed wholeheartedly to be true for almost her entire life, so the words roll off the tongue almost as easily as truth, even now, finally actually putting away her sample vial and letting go of her compass.]

If you shall not answer such questions, surely you shall at least point me to the supplies you brought?

[She'd heard over the network they'd arrived, but tests of the water drew her attention faster despite her hunger.]

[grunehexe]

[She has met some rather shocking Heroes in her day, but this one is by far the rudest.]

No offer of escort? An author, but not a gentleman?

[She neglects his own question into her circumstance in something like punishment, lips pursing in annoyance. She didn't feel entitled to such aid, really, but she is a bit too proud to so easily confess that she had actually been carried to where he found her. Though she had asked one of their teammates to rebreak her feet and return them to a somewhat normal shape as opposed to the twisted three-inch horrors they'd once been, walking was far from a skill of hers yet.

And no matter if he's rude... she is more embarrassed to struggle in front of a "hero" she's just met than a teammate she already knows.]

[grunehexe]

You are an author, no? Surely a man of some wealth or breeding?

[No, Sieglinde, it's no longer the 15th century, people don't have to be educated nobles or monks to write books... well, perhaps she should know better, she belatedly realizes, considering how terribly rude many of the Greek philosophers she's read could be, but.

She can't help self-consciously pressing her bony knees together, adjusting slightly misshapen feet to try and minimize the sight of them.]

If you shall not have me speak of it I shall ask no more of your story-

[Because unlike someone! she had good manners. (When it suited her.)]

You need only provide an arm.

[grunehexe]

[It was, and she knew it- couldn't pretend that it wasn't mainly a matter of her pride. Once, the bound and broken feet had been a symbol of her status, of her dedication to the pact made by her ancestor, of her position as lord of her village... but that had been before she'd known the truth and they'd become a symbol of just how very ignorant she had been, to allow her feet to be crippled and become a thing that would prevent her from ever running away.

She'd rebroken them after nearly a year in ALASTAIR, but returning them to a somewhat normal shape didn't bring deadened nerves back to life, or make her as steady on her feet as a girl her age ought to be.

And she was too proud to wish to fall or stumble in front of anyone- let alone a Servant, a being she found fascinating by nature.]

Would a woman be able to call herself a witch without pride?

[But there's still a touch of gratitude on her face when she is able to take his arm, holding it securely. She's hardly heavy, and she doesn't put all her weight on him- but she does use him to balance, steps careful and steady.]

You came from Oska did you not? Are the conditions there safe yet?

[It had been sort of under attack before...]

[grunehexe]

[The pace is definitely appreciated, though she doesn't say it. Much like a person who sat upon their legs for a long time, she lacked a certain sensation below the ankles, and though muscle memory could carry her over flat surfaces with little trouble, she takes fleeting glances down at intervals to make sure of where she is placing her feet.]

And you are all new recruits? Any transfers among you?

[He had seemed adverse to questions about himself, but this was practical, surely. As she asks, she cannot help but use her new, closer vantage point to examine him further.

... he was awfully short to have a voice as manly as that.]

[grunehexe]

[Noticing such things is a healer's business, and notice she does. She can't help curiosity any more than she can help breathing or needing to eat, but she has a few ounces of courtesy in her, and as he has not inquired directly about her feet, she does not say a word for her own observations.

Instead she hums thoughtfully a moment, dwelling on the possibilities.]

I see.

[Of course. If he was new himself she could hardly expect him to know such a thing, though she'd had to ask, ever slightly hopeful for the return of one of the many that have been snatched away. Still, there's something she can't help but ask- though she attempts delicacy.]

And your... Master is not among them?

[Though a concern was there, knowing what she did about a Servant's reliance on a power source to even exist, she couldn't pretend to be asking for purely selfless reasons. She'd learned a lot from the last magus of that world.]

[grunehexe]

[Anderson???

That sort of response definitely threw her for something of a loop, blinking rapidly in mild shock as he so casually spoke of something that to her seemed much like a death. Of course, it wasn't the same, she had been told they could simply be summoned again, but...]

Does it... truly not?

[Matter. To lose memories and experiences, like a slate wiped clean?]

[grunehexe]

I know what they are for.

[And it was true, that some of those who called themselves Servant had accused her of naivety in the past to think of them as anything but tools. Still... they "lived", in a sense, they thought and possessed wills and feelings and opinions... so to so easily dismiss that as something to be used and discarded...

Even if she weren't a healer, someone who had dedicated their life to others'...]

But you are with ALASTAIR now. It does not have to be as if it were a [what was the word?] Holy War.

[grunehexe]

[So she had said something wrong. That had been the advantage, (and now, the disadvantage), to the fact that Servants were men and women of great fame and renown. Against the likes of Gilgamesh, of Arjuna, of the Hound of Ulster... they were the sorts of people she had grown up reading about, and she knew their tales and culture well enough to avoid some degree of faux pas... but she does not know "Hans Christian Anderson", and can only guess.

And a forest witch who had never left her village was not the best at social cues, even after her time with this team.]

Such was not my intent.

[She transfers her balance from his arm to the nearest crate when he moves away, frowning slightly at her verbal misstep onto something that was apparently an issue of certain sensitivity. But what was one supposed to say to that? Of course she did not ask her wand how it felt about being used, but try as she might (and she didn't really try), she could not see the Servants as mere tools in that way.

So instead, she just gives a shaky one-handed curtsy.]

But I must thank you for the escort. You have done me favor, and if a mere witch such as myself can repay it, you may call upon me. Be it for potion or information.

[Though even as she says it she thinks perhaps it might have been better not to have offered at all.]

[grunehexe]

Whether you deride me or not, you assisted as I required, and that debt still stands.

[And really, throughout her two years with Audentes, she's grown a somewhat tougher skin. This was no longer her village, where her word was law. He also benefits from her upbringing, that though she might attempt to lord more strongly over a fellow human... magical creatures such as the werewolves of her wood garnered more respect. Servants sort of counted.]

I did not think it worthwhile to argue with you about your own feelings on your own nature when we have just met.

[Maybe the second meeting?]

[grunehexe]

[Despite having grown up far too quickly under the burden of her title, and despite the maturity beyond her years with which she usually liked to conduct herself, there were times when Sieglinde's thirteen years showed through. Like now, when her cheeks puffed up slightly in a moment of indignance.]

I possessed a proper one until that confounded ship crashed and ruffians made off with our things.

[Besides, she wants to say, if he was a tool then surely she should just use him as escort. But that was a foolish, spur of the moment thought, and so she just sighs and moves to run fingers through her hair. Until she remembers how oily it is and reconsiders.]

My magic is healing, not the creation of items...

[grunehexe]

[The offer seems to surprise her, perking up slightly from her sigh with a rapid blink.]

You would escort me once more?

[She liked to think she had quite a few... was "friends" even the right word? She was never sure. But, "people who were willing to carry her" or "willing to lend an arm"... she surely had those. But not all of them were the type to pique her curiosity like this, even if they were... far more conventionally kind people.]

[grunehexe]

[What an... irate little man. By Sieglinde's reckoning it seems far more kind to offer her relief of the magical variety when one had no Master to supply mana as opposed to just lending an arm, but. She's already made that mistake, she doesn't open her mouth to argue it. Instead, she crossed her arms thoughtfully, locking her knees to make sure she doesn't topple.]

Then I would be further in your debt... what is it that a witch might do to repay such a thing?

[One of the problems with Servants she's encountered so far being that as powerful as they could be compared to her... those sets were hard to work off.]