Log:The Rock of Death, Part 1

The Rock of Death 2020/09/13 Sasha Arthur 1

A lonely tower sits on top of a small hill in the lower Highlands of Scotland about 60 miles northeast of Edinburgh. The tower itself is a ruin, most just a circular shell about two stories high and about 30 feet in diameter. Based on appearance it probably used to be three stories tall but time and neglect have had their way with the once proud tower. A very weathered Maltese cross design is high over what was once the front door to the tower. No upper floors remain inside and only part of a winding staircase leads up any longer.

The tower rests back in the hinterlands of the Earl Of Argyle's estates, but no one else is around. It's a bit of hike from the nearest road but a faint trail leads to the tower from the nearest access road.

Contrary to normal weather, it's a cheerful late summer day, the air warm but not hot, a scattering of puffy clouds perhaps hinting at rain later today.

In this bucolic, or at least, not very Gothic scene, a young man with jet black hair with a red blaze in front, clad in a black A-line tucked into worn jeans tramps about the outside of the tower, a Y0shaped stick in hands. From time to time he stops and make notes in a notepad he has tucked into his waistband.

Arthur is on the hiking trail to the tower! He could zip right there, but last time it was inhabited and the residents did not take kindly. So he missed by a few years. Then the second time, a disturbance in time threw him off course. This time he's taking the scenic route! Though he's still dressed in his overcoat and scarf, he hikes along with a backpack and a walking stick about as tall as he is, gnarled like a wizard's staff. It's just a piece of wood, though.

The youth near the base of the tower doesn't seem to be paying attention to the trail. He moves to another spot, walking slowly the Y-shaped stick held the the end of the Y. Suddenly, the stick points down. When it does, the youth stops, stick the dowsing stick under his arm, and makes another notation in the notebook.

Arthur takes a breather as he stops near the tower. He runs his fingers through his hair as he sweeps it back out of his eyes. This may be the more appropriate time. He spots the youth making strange markings and waves as he hollers over. "Hello! Are you the current groundskeeper here? Notice anything peculiar as of late?"

The youth startles a little at your yell and turns around quickly, his hand dropping to the messenger bag at his side. The dowsing rod falls to the ground as he all but spins around to face you. After a moment, he calls back in a Scottish accent, "Nae, I nu the groundskeeper. Student doing fieldwork. Names Alec!"

Arthur stands there, eyeing "Alec" up and down calmly after the youth's startled response. He's got a bemused smile on his face all the while. "Ah, good. Well, then. Don't mind me. I'll just be poking around," he says pleasantly and continues on to the tower. After several steps, he stops, then steps backward once and turns to Alec. "You haven't happened to have noticed anything unusual around here, have you?"

Sasha bends down to pick up the dowsing rod when you first speak then tucks it point first into his messenger bag so it's sticking out. He blinks when you ask your question again. "Well, nu, /I/ haven't. But, there's fairy stories bout this place. And, well, the ley lines bend weird round here. Getting a fix on 'em is hard."

Arthur stares a bit more to get a read on Sasha. "Hah. Yes. Of course. Very well, continue your....whatever you're up to. Pay me no mind." The young strange man turns and heads for the tower, rainbow scarf fluttering behind him.

"Belike take care in thar. Tisn't fully safe, ye ken?" calls out 'Alec' as you head towards the tower. "Loose stones and the stairs not safe." He begins to head in your general direction, but not in any great hurry.

"Oh?" Arthur asks, rather oblivious to the danger potentials. As he gets to the tower, he looks up and lightly taps it with his walking stick to test is strength. Of course, he's got Porter's luck, so...

The youth walks up as you tap the wall of the tower with your walking staff. "So, out for a ramble?" he inquires in a cheerful manner. "Tis a grand area round here. Lots of good paths."

A faint sheen of sweat is on his face, neck, arms, and chest. Not a lot, just like he's been doing a bit of walking.

"A Ramble?" Arthur asks curiously. "No, no, this was the place I was interested in," he says as he rests his walking stick against the exterior.

"Ah, an amateur antiquarian? Or a professional one?" inquires the youth as he fishes a small water bottle out of his messenger bag and takes a few swallows.

Arthur chuckles at that as he runs his gloved hand over the stone. "I suppose you could say I'm a professional amateur history buff." He dares to take a step inside, peeking around and up like he's expecting something to jump out at him.

Sasha moves to the doorway as you pop inside. "Must have been an interestin tower back in the day. Being Knight Templar and all. Wounder wha all they got up to here, aye?" He casts an eye on the interior. "Nu demon worship no matter what the Papists said. But, maybe a bit of heresy no less in those days. Said they brought back all sorts of things from the Crusades. Might be they secreted some here after they was suppressed on the Continent and in England."

"They could be mighty unpleasant to perceived intrusions, too," Arthur comments as if mildly offended.

Well, you sense that 'Alec' is magickal as is his messenger bag and the ring on his hand. Strong magicks. There is also a low level magickal 'aura' around this entire castle. Seems to kind of swirl about a bit chaotically. Not sure why.

As for energy: there is dense grouping of tachyons right around the base of the stairs, well, just a few steps back along the wall that makes up the stairs support as it winds up the interior of the tower. Its outlines an area about 2m tall and 1m across. Looks kinda like a door that hasn't been completely shut.

Arthur pretends to admire the craftsmanship while observing the magical fields. The Tachyons stand out as well, and those he suspects were the primary culprits he was looking for. "Very interesting," he murmurs to himself and stats to move towards the base of the stairs.

"Whut's caught yuir tension, professor?" asks Alec as he follows you into the tower. To his magickal sense, the background magicks indicate that some item of great spiritual power was once housed here. But, it was some time ago given the remaining traces but something keeps 'stirring' up the residual magicks here from time to time.

Sadly, he cannot perceive the tachyons. They are off particles: something they move faster than light and they have some sort of interaction with each other on a quantum level across vast distances. They are a bit of a mystery even to 21st century science here on Earth-1A.

As you approach the 'doorway' your PiXii pings all on its own. It seems to be picking up a signal of some set when you are within 10 feet of the 'door.'

Arthur pulls out his fob watch--his PowerPixie+ in disguise when in Arthur's form, and presses down the stopper to flip open the watch. "Hmm." He tucks it back into his vest pocket and steps towards the doorway that got pinged. He runs his hand over that too. He has ways to get through the rock, but there is a civilian standing right there. "The construction of this place. It's marvelous," he answers, in search of the door.

A voice seems to speak out of thin air a few moments after you touch the rough rock wall. In an overly effusive tone, an accentless English voice states, "Translator Active! Welcome friend to a Rock of Bral Accessway. As you bear a valid signet seal, we bring you felicitous greetings from the Mercane Syndic of Bral. To visit the Rock of Bral, please place your hands within the indicated accessway. *the before mentioned 2m by 1m 'door' gets limned in blinking golden light* You will be met in the entry chamber by a member of our staff. They will explain to you any rules and laws you must obey while visiting the Rock of Bral. In the name of the Prince of Bral and the Mercane Syndic of Bral, welcome to the premier shopping, entertainment, and transit centre in all of spelljamming space!" There is a soft beep and then the voice says, "Tranit in 7...6..." and so on.

'Alec' is about to respond to your construction comment when the voice starts speaking. He cocks his head to one side then moves closer when the doorway starts blinking golden. As it starts to countdown, a puckish grin comes to rest on his lips. "Now then, this /is/ interesting," he says in not a Scots accent but European accented RP English. "Never heard of the Rock of Bral. But, I think what I seek is beyond this doorway, so..." And with that, he places his hands on the door.

Arthur smirks as Sasha's accent changes. "Interesting student fieldwork you're doing, 'Alec'. It wouldn't do as a Professor to let a student go alone." He flashes a grin, looking like something of a madman, and then puts his hands on the door as well.

"1...Accessing Eye of Ptah..." The golden light floods from the edges of the doorway over the entire surface of the door and envelops the two of you. There is brief moment of disorientation then you find yourself standing beneath a free standing golden metal archway what is inscribed with many different glyphs and sigils. The room you are in seems to be constructed of black marble shot through with strands of gold. You can see a closed metal door just to the left and behind a stone table that stands a dozen or so feet inf front of you. Behind the table, in a larger chair rests the mummified remains of some sort of upright hippopotamus humanoid dressed in the rotted remnants of an ornate military type uniform with a number of medals on the chest. A large cutlass rests in one withered paw and an overly baroque handgun in the other. No obvious signs of death are apparent and, indeed, the air here is free of any hint of decay instead being lightly floral scented.

The youth with you murmurs after a moment, "That is certainly /not/ what I'm seeking," in a dry tone.

You vaguely recall something about a race called the Mercane. They were astonishingly astute traders in literally any commodity no matter the morality. They were known to show up out of nowhere in their bio-organic ships and then disappear just as mysteriously. The only thing they seemed to honor was the Deal. It was strongly suspected they were extradimensional in origin. They were over 2m in height with almost skeletal builds, nearly oversized heads, and dark blue skin. They were last seen in the Milky Way galaxy over 500 years ago. They just stop showing up anywhere one day. A great mystery.

Arthur lets out a gasp of awe as he slowly approaches the mummified remains. "So there you are," he utters reverently. Nothing gets Arthur going like a good mystery. He smiles and lets out a merry laugh. "You beauty! What in the 'verse happened to you all?"

Thinking about the Mercane brings to mind the warriors who often accompanied them. They were all of race called the Giff apparently. They were all mercenaries it seemed employed by the Mercane. They had a complex system of ranks to distinguish each other as otherwise they were completely identical to outsiders. They were also suspected of being extradimensional as while they always accompanied the Mercane they were never found anywhere else.

Arthur looks about the room. "Where are your guards...? What happened to you?" he talks to himself as he gets closer to examine the remains. After examining it, he looks beyond to the door. It's as if he forgot Sasha was with him for a moment.

"I take it you know what that corpse is? Or what race it is, Professor?" he inquires as moves along in your wake. He makes no attempt to examine anything in the room but does remark. "Magick is much richer here. Moreso prevalent than on Earth. Not more powerful, just, hmm, more like gravity in its presense. Everywhere and permeating all."

"One of the Mercane. Interesting species. Master traders who would come and go out of no where and open shop. They haven't been seen in, oh," Arthur straightens up and slides his hands into his coat pockets, "500 years. Give or take. No one knew why they didn't come back." He inspects the crystals, unsure of how they work. After a moment, he smiles again. "But now, perhaps I'll get to find out!" he says enthusiastically, sweeping his way towards the door. "Magic, you say? Interesting! I always thought they were an advanced technological civilization."

The youth smiles slightly. "What was it some American author said: any sufficiently advanced magick may be indistinguishable from technology? Or was it the reverse? Literature and aphorims were never my strong point."

He tilts his head again as he looks at the mummified Mercane then he holds out a hand. A white porcelain full face mask appears in his hand and he slips it over his face. After a moment, he murmurs, "The Mercane are a race of extradimensional traders from higher in the Assiatic Realm than the material universes. Or they were. None have been seen for over 500 years. At least, according to 'The Master Guide to the Various Realms by the Storlian League of Arcane Races.'"

"Ah, the Storlian's think the name of the Mercane home dimension is Bral based on a study of their language and phrases. And...that's all that they can confirm."

Arthur laughs. "The reverse. Though I suppose it could go both ways." He watches Sasha curiously conjure the mask and raises a brow, grinning at the surprise. "So now that we're at the Rock of Bral, we're in their dimension. Quite a bit further from Scotland. And I see you're more than meets the eye! Now who are you, really, Alec?" the time traveler asks with a boyish smile.

The now porcelain faced youth shrugs one shoulder. "Alec is one derivation of my given name. It's what I was called when I did live in Edinburgh." He chuckles softly. "You can call me Sasha, Professor. I am a mage by birth and training."

He glances around with the mask on. "Alright. The archway we came through is a focal point for a Gate. But not the source of the power for it. I...have no idea where that might be. And mana is richer here than on Earth. It is woven into the very nature of everything here. So, easier to access I imagine. Magitech probably thrives here."

"Magitech? Brilliant!" The professor whirls on his heel excitedly, taking the youth's explanation without question. He starts walking towards the doors leading out.

The doors don't slide open or seem to have any handles on them. There is a panel next to them with a hole about half an inch across in a hex shape...much like the three crystals in the holders on next to the mummy.

Arthur plants his hand on his waist as he inspects the panel. He could try to bypass it, but that would leave Sasha behind. "Ah, of course. The keymaster," Arthur comments before heading back for the desk in search of crystals.

Sasha steps forward as you turn around and holds out the trio crystal keys to you. "Embedded with spells of opening and locking. Keyed, heh, I think to different doors."

Arthur halts as Sasha presents the keys and smiles. "Well, shall I let you do the honors, then?" he asks as he motions to the panel.

Sasha picks one of the white crystal keys and inserts it. When nothing happens, he tries the the blue crystal. With a click, the door pops open, being pushed out by the slightly higher air pressure in this room it seems. Beyond is a corridor lit by the same small but LED brilliant crystals that light this room. There are no sounds from the hallway.

A sign directly in front of the door points to the right. It flashes through a number of languages very quickly then shows in English: Reception and Transfers. There is no sign to indicate what lies to the left.

Arthur peeks through the door as it opens. He hasn't yet considered the dreadful cause that would end the Mercane and whether it still lies here. "Still powered after all these years. Marvelous," he comments as he starts walking towards reception.

Sasha follows along behind you, his head turning from time to time to take in the surroundings. As the two of you walk down the hallway towards reception, you pass several other doors that you have names on them. The one you exited had Assiatic Earth-1A on it. You pass doors that read Assiatic Carcosa X, Assiatic Malva 3, Assiatic Delvin 2, Assiatic Malthormfan 4, and others. In all about twenty doors are passed before you come to a rather more ornate door that reads 'Reception'. Next to it is another keyhole.

Sasha looks at you and holds up the keys. "Shall I? Blue again you think?"

Arthur notes the different doors, recognizing some from his travels. "Sure, blue, why not?" he says as he slides his hands in his coat pockets.

The masked youth slips the key crystal into the socket and after a moment, the door slides to one side. Which causes the desiccated reptiloid who was apparently braced against it to fall face forward and land with a dusty crunch.

"Well, I suppose that answers whether there are more bodies," murmurs Sasha in slightly disturbed tone of voice.

The room beyond seems about the size of the main hall of Union Station in Los Angeles on Earth. There are areas that seem to be ticket windows given the names of Departures and Transfers over various windows. Most of the numerous bodies in the vast room seem to be humanoid, but from a variety of races. All of them seem to have died in place and either fell to the ground or slumped in their seats. The booths were manned by Mercane but you do see a number of Giff gaurds around as well. There is no scent of decay in the room, just the same dry, floral scent in the air.

If he were Kat at the moment, she'd be screaming. Instead, Arthur takes a few quick steps back from the collapse of the reptloid corpse. He frowns a bit and looks beyond to the room filled with old death. "This place is a tomb," he intones solemnly, no longer keen on the adventure for mere curiosity. "They're all just...sitting there," he says as he looks around. He looks back down at the Reptiliod, then back at the bodies for some sign of injury. "Poison, perhaps?"

The self-professed mage looks around the room from the vantage point of the doorway. After a moment, he murmurs, "Well, if it was magick or spirits I cannot sense anything. For that matter, I can sense the magicks in the various devices here, like the signs appearing to be in English. Very sophisticated detection of, I guess, races and dimension of origin probably connected to some sort of database of racial languages? A very sophisticated universal translator spell basically. It's, well, gorgeous in its intricacy." He sounds appreciative but then goes on. "What I don't sense is any magick on any of the bodies. Not even minor magicks which I would expect. The equivalent of watches or PDAs but magickal." He points to a small crystal in one woman's desiccated hand not far away. "Like that. It's dead. But," he points across to an open 'briefcase' by someone wearing a full hazmat like suit slumped on a bench. "there's something magickly active in that case. Informational magicks, so a PDA equivalent probably. Its not in contact with the body."

Arthur notices the hazmat suit. "Hmm. Perhaps one of these devices has a recording or data on what happened here. A disease would not strike so quickly that they'd die where they stood. And why are they all here? Were they trying to depart to their home worlds?" he asks. "There has to be some security or surveillance, surely," he opines as he looks around for monitoring technology.

Arthur spots 'cameras' in the locations he'd expect. They look more like dragonfly eyes made out of crystal that still move over the immobile crowd.

There is a door that says 'Security' across the vast room from this doorway. Doors similar to this one line two of the four walls with the 'ticket booths' on the opposite wall from the doorway you stand at. To the left is a large glass wall looking out on a sky filled with stars that twinkle on the surface of what looks like a vast crystal sphere. You can see the curve of the asteroid this building is on as a blue-green gas giant starts to rise in the, let's call it west.

"I would certainly expect it, yes, Professor," murmurs Sasha as he takes a step into the room. "It does look like it was busy here. And most of the people have luggage it seems. Some a lot." He points to a family of green skinned, porcupined haired nearby who have multiple bags each as well as several large trunks. One of the trunks seems to be animal carrier holding a six limbed furry lizard as dead as it's owners.

Arthur gazes out towards the stars, since it's preferable to the bodies all around them. He looks towards the large amounts of suitcases. "They...knew. They knew they had to pick up and leave. How far does this devastation go? Surely not their whole world, wiped out..." he says in dreadful awe. He looks back to where they came. "The gatekeeper died locked inside. Perhaps to prevent others from coming or going. How many of these other gates may have the same?" he laments. He walks somberly towards the security area. "Best not to touch the bodies for now. Just to be safe." He pulls his scarf up and tighten it a little to fasten it into a makeshift mask. Not that it will help against what happened here.

Sasha looks over at you then murmurs, "Stay close and I can protect us for a, well, a handful of hours. Do you mind if I cast a spell on us?"

Arthur peers over at Sasha with interest and slows, then backups up a few steps to draw closer. "I don't mind a bit. I've dabbled in the Arts a bit myself."

The mage waves his hands in a complicated gesture. After a moment, a golden light gently envelops Arthur and Sasha. "I should say, you have to stay close for the casting. But you can wander farther after. It has no real range in, well, a mana rich environment like this. But it will fade after about six hours. Just FYI." He then adds. "Protects us from air borne gases as it substitutes for the need to breathe. And protects against environmental extremes. Sadly, not against toxins or disease."

"Ah, well...it's more toxins and disease I'm concerned about, but not breathing it in may help with that," Arthur comments. Though he technically doesn't need to breathe, he still does out of habit. "This place could prove very dangerous. You could go back. Stay safe while I look into this," he offers. He's gotten companions in dangerous situations in the past and is at least trying to be thoughtful.

"Professor, given the Gate was in the building I was searching for, well, an item of mystic power, I think I will stay. Besides, I am curious now. Saddened at all this, " he waves his hand, "but still curious. And I suspect, hmm, I suspect that magick killed these people given how...drained they and the magitech on them is. I suspect the magitech on them dying was just a, hmm, side effect of whatever killed them. But just an intuition. No evidence."

"Death by magical means? I've heard of creatures that could suck the life out of the living. And these people certainly seem...drained," Arthur looks to the bodies. "I know their remains are ancient, but to be mummified in this environment seems odd."

"I must admit I could hardly resist the urge for drama, Professor and Sasha, is it? After all, I might need the bodies at some point. For kindling if nothing else if I got cold," says a voice out of mid air. "So, from Earth are you? How are things on the old stomping grounds? It's been millennia since I set foot there. Is Khem still intact?" The voice has an odd accent and reverberates. You can both tell its not speaking English but it comes across as such to your ears with the other language as a faint echo.