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Saturday, 19 January 2013

6.06a - The Labratory

Anneleigh crept quietly to the edge of the Exiles Den and looked out over the entrance way of Icewatch outpost.  Where scores of Guardian and Defiant soldiers had once learned to tolerate each other for the defence of Ironpine Peak there now stood countless cultists who turned a blind eye as the werewolves of Stillmoor moved into the snowy north.

From this vantage point she could see the high crossway between the two towers that made up the foundation of the structure, but it was impossible to see if the book she sought was indeed there.  Taking her chances, and following orders, Anneleigh crept towards the left tower and found the lift.  With constant foot traffic of those cultists using the elevator and the ever present watch of the guards stationed at its entrance, Anneleigh knew her chances of ascending unnoticed were slim.  She watched as the elevator made its ground floor stop, several cultists entered, and it rose slowly to the high walk way.  There seemed to be no stops between the ground and the walkway high above.

“At least that works in my favor.” Anneleigh thought as she continued to watch for their weakness.  “If I manage to get on the contraption I’ll have a few moments breathing room while I make the journey.” 

Once again the lift reached the ground.  This time, however, several cultists exited yet no cultists entered.  Instead it continued to descend with its last passenger.  Intrigued, she began to formulate a plan.  After several more circuits of the elevator, she was reasonably confident in her assumption.  The elevator did not travel to the lower floor unless on the rider request, so when it does there is always at least one passenger.  In her viewings the need for the ground floor seemed very infrequent.

“One enemy to clear from the elevator pad would be much more reasonable that five.” She concluded as she left her observation point and started to make her way to the lower entrance.


Making her way through the werewolves of Stillmoor was easier than anticipated.  Although she move and smelt like fresh meat, they were happy to focus their attention on the more likely meal.  The Abyssal inside proved only slightly more difficult.  Unprepared and doing a poor job at watching for intruders, Anneleigh was able to sneak up on many of them, slitting their throats before they could produce a spell or call for help.   The few werewolves who had been tamed by the cultists managed to let out howls before their death, but their sounds were masked by the answering call of the beasts outside.

Once the room was clear, it became obvious to Anneleigh that her greatest obstacle would be the maze of the rooms themselves.  The rooms shared uniformity and, much like the circular rooms of the Dwarven Lord’s Hall in Scarwood, each room lead onto another.  They were all arraigned as a type of laboratory, with machines, work stations, books, and cages lining the walls.  Some of the cages held live captives who screamed for attention, but soon grew quiet when they realized her attempt to remain covert.  As Anneleigh cleared each room, she released the prisoners and directed them out the way she had come.  She then took care to drag the bodies of the Abyssal into these cages.  An empty room would be conspicuous enough without bodies littering the halls as a clear indication that security had been breached.

Onward through the maze she walked until she came to a room with no connection.  Instead there was a man at least twice her height crouched beside a small podium.  He wore the Abyssal headdress that covered his eyes and yet he seemed to study the books and parchment that lay open in front of him.  On a stone Altar behind him was a Mathosian woman.  Anneleigh could not see if she was alive or dead, but the urge to prevent his further experiments chorused through her just the same.

The man turned back to his Altar to find Anneleigh standing there.  To her surprise, he smiled.

“You are no Icewatch.” He said to her.  “Not a citizen of the north either.  You must be a Guardian.” His smile widened.  “You’ll make an excellent addition to my test subjects.  Thank you for volunteering.”

“I’m not just any Guardian!” Anneleigh called.  “I’m an Ascended.” He laughed at her as he raised his hands over his head to begin his spell work, not taking care to defend himself.  “An ascended with perfect aim.”  She continued as she shot an arrow into the smooth curve of his neck.  As he lay dying and the pool of his blood began to grow, the man began to shrink in size until he was no bigger than any other Mathosian.   His headdress fell from him in a clatter, revealing his entire face.

Horrified, Anneleigh knelt beside him, coating her knees in blood but hardly caring.  “Were you a Mathosian?” Anneleigh asked him.  “Tell me now while I still have time to bless your soul to the Vigil.  Were you Abyssal or were you simply taken over by Akylios?”

He laughed at her and spat blood in her face.  “The Vigil cannot help me now.  They cannot help any of you.   Join the cultists as I did, or parish at their hands.”

Anneleigh pulled the arrow from his neck allowing the blood to flow more freely.  He was dead within seconds.

Unable to hide the blood, but trusting in the fact that no Abyssal cultist would enter this area, she left to continue the search for the elevator. 
The rooms began to wind in a circle and Anneleigh knew she was coming close.  Finally she reached a second dead end.  This room, however, was empty.  A large hole stood open in the ceiling and the platform descended from above, closing the hole.  She positioned herself behind one of the pillars at the back of the room and waited for the platform.  Several times it paused at the ground floor.  Each time her pulse quickened as she anticipated what she might encounter, slowing again when it traveled upward rather than down.  After five circuits it finally descended further. 

Anneleigh quietly waited as she watched as a single cultist walked off the platform in the direction of the open hallway.  He paused to examine something on the floor and the platform slowly began to rise.  Fearful she may miss her opportunity, Anneleigh quietly wished the Abyssal on his way when he stooped to run his finger along the ground and Anneleigh stifled a gasp.

“A drop of blood.”  She thought to herself.  “That’s what he found on the floor.”  In the blink of an eye the cultist ran out of the room, following the blood trail.  Anneleigh quickly jumped for the platform that was now at chest level and scrambled atop it.

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