Story : Within the Barrow.

From Ars Magica

Revision as of 14:51, 20 April 2006

The lack of any real sensation or effect was the strangest aspect of what happened next. Had they not been crossing over at such a place, it is possible that they could have crossed halfway though a step, and not noticed a thing until something unusual came into view.

Instead, as they moved toward the broken stone portal, toward the bank of earth behind it, they suddenly found themselves stood within a dark, cool passage. On all sides, except before them, they could feel cold, damp stone. The sound of their own breathing, and the shuffling of their feet upon stone seemed unnaturally loud in the stillness of the barrow.

As their eyes accustomed to the gloom, it seemed that some faint glow came from a hole in the stone ceiling a little further down the passage, and beyond that, darkness.

Ambrosius looked around the bare corridor, noting the unusually clean floor and well kept walls. He’d never been in a regio before, and didn’t know what to expect, so he was not all that surprised. He took a few steps forward to stand next to Mnemosyne and noticed that the smooth feel of stone under his boots was broken by some shards of the “real” world door that had fallen to ruin, freed by his clearing of the dirt and mud. He set his staff aside and leaned heavily against the close stone wall, the coolness of it sinking into his palm at an almost alarming rate, and lifted each of his feet in turn and picked the shards out of where they’d embedded themselves in the soles. In the gloom, he could barely see the bottom of his feet, let alone find all the small remains of the door. Dissatisfied with the persistence of the scratching sound his feet made as he walked, he noted, “I am, ahhhh, amazed at the difference between the ruins out there and the pristine condition in here. I mean, I knew that was how it was supposed to work, but...” he blew his breath out to create a low whistle. “Perhaps we could do with a bit more, um...” he paused, looking for the right word, “...illumination?”

"Damn," cursed Mnemosyne. "I had hoped we would arrive outside the barrow. Yes... some light would be a good thing.

He lightly tapped the tip of his staff on the ground and spoke the magic in a firm, clear voice. The top most section of his staff slowly began to emit light, but before it got any stronger than an ember, it seemed to struggle and die. Ambrosius looked intently at the top of the staff, an expression of concern on his face. For a brief second, the effect he’d been after seemed to reverse as the modest light from the ceiling seemed to be sucked towards the darkness of the staff. As quickly as it started, it stopped. The staff top apparently returned to normal.

“Well, that was odd. I wonder what...” Before he could finish his sentence, the top most section of the staff flashed, many times brighter than the noonday sun and with such intensity that the light itself seemed to carry with it a force of wind. The intensity was physically painful; Ambrosius had been starring right at the flash when it occurred and, though he’d closed his eyes as quickly as he could, he sensed it would have made very little difference, one way or the other. His eyes watered up almost immediately, and thought the flash of light was less than a split second, he worried its effects might be more permanent. Carefully, he opened his eyes. He could see nothing at all. Even the gentle glow of the light source in the ceiling was gone now – he stood in total blackness.

Mnemosyne cried when the blinding flash had gone off. She had turned to see what had happened to Ambrosius spell, and so had unfortunately been looking in his direction when his spell had burned an bright afterimage into her retina. She screwed up her eyes and blinked a bit, then repeated trying to get some sort of vision back. "I can't see anything," she griped, abandoning Latin in her frustration for her native English. "What did you do?" She did not sound anywhere near as impressed with Ambrosius as she had when he was clearing the path away.

Ambrsoius sighed heavily. As he took a few moments to take stock of his health and well being, he was reminded of the advice of Magus Galfridus: "Stercus accidit." Verditius Magi encounter failure, sometimes even spectacular failure, more often than most other houses of magi. He was advised early on that failure happens, and when it did, to take it in stride and press on as best you can. He was also warned that, every once in a great while, a magi might fail spectacularly. When that happens, there is little to nothing that can be done - it was meant to be. As his father might have said, "It's time to get back on the horse."

"Apparently, maga, I am failing a simple task spectacularly." He remained silent a few moments as he rustled through his belt pouch and produced a flint and steel. He struck it one or two times, then put it away. "Sparks. At least we know that we are not blind."

"This is a relatively simple spell, Maga," Ambrosius said, formally, "but as your tone of voice suggests that I have sufficiently demonstrated my fallibility, perhaps you would care to try?" He knew that Mnemosyne was simply frustrated, and did not mean to sound tert, but one of the reasons he left Spiritus Draconis was to get away from the Grand Magi that felt they could do no wrong, and took great pleasure in questioning or belittling apprentices and newly guantletted magi when they had difficulty. While tone likely had no ill intent, it carried with it many sour memories.

"I apologize, Maga. I did not mean to be so harsh. Your tone reminded me far too much of less peaceful days. Please forgive my sarcasm." Ambrosius bowed his head in the dark to his sodale.

"No apology is neccessary, Ambrosius," she assured him cooly, but more calmly than she had spoken before. "I was merely surprised by the results. Put the matter behind you - after all there has been no harm done. I beleive there is a phrase about being thrown from horses and getting back on which I could say to you at this point, but given that I personally have had more than enough to do with unpleasant animals for one day, I shall refrain and instead take your advice."

Mnemosyne quickly rehearsed what she knew about Ignem. It did not take long. A mental run down of Creo took little longer. All seemed good. When you knew next to nothing on a subject, you could only succeed beyond your expectations or meet them - never fail. She refrained from an overly loud incantation - being underground and in the dark made her feel disinclined to start shouting, and anyway it would probably make no difference. She also performed her gestures normally as she did not fancy waving her hands around wildly, only to take the skin off her knuckles on the unseen stonework. She chanted the words she knew and though appropriate, visualised the effect and then threw in a couple of improvised terms which might or might not be useful. Her spell was released.

Where Ambrsoius’ spell was a spectacular, if frustrating, failure, the Maga Mnemosyne spell was a solid success. The glow softly illuminated the area around Mnemosyne for a bit more than an arm’s length from her.

“Thank you, Maga. That light is much needed.” Ambrosius, Geraldous and Blathmac looked around at their now revealed surroundings. The stones that form the walls are large and very smooth, reaching from the floor up to the ceiling, which is composed of more great stones sat across the vertical ones like a series of adjacent arches. The ceiling of the corridor is narrower than the floor, as the walls incline slightly toward the middle, and proceeds straight forward into the darkness. Behind them, where the ruined door had existed in the mundane world, there now stood a pair of stones, blocking the path back, set one on top of the other, each making up half the height of the door. The inner surface of the rock appears to have a design upon it that lies across the division between the two stones. The two stones look heavy, each appearing to be of equal weight, and between them blocking the passage, which is not much more than full grown man's height. Ambrosius could tell by the words she had used and the look on her face that she was concentrating to maintain the light, and he knew from his own experience that such concentration was not as easy as one might think. The best thing to do, he decided, was try and get some natural light in. As the doors had regenerated, he thought it possible that the region extended to include some of the outside area. As the only way to know for sure was to look, he gently pushed his way past the others and stepped over to the carved blocks and began to examine them.

“For what it is worth, the carvings on this side appear to be of a similar, um, style as that spiral on the outside, though not the same image…” He trailed off as he examined the slabs in more detail. “I wonder if there is a way to…ah, open these?”

Mnemosyne said nothing, but took a slow step closer to the doors and raised her hand to allow the soft witchlight eminating from her ring to fall more clearly. She did not really mind which way they went, but opening the door would mean there was less pressure for her to maintain the spell, which would be nice. For now, she kept quiet and concentrated on maintaining her great and powerful magics, the likes the world had never seen before.

ooc note: You aren't being railroaded here, though admittedly, there are only two obvious ways to proceed. The door behind you isn't an 'impenetrable door'. Inwards or outwards is equally fine by me.

From the front there came a grunt. "My eyes are recoverering, and we know what is behind us - the outside world. Let us move on this way; the sooner we do so, the sooner we may return to where we naturally should be." In the dim light, Geraldous could be seen, shield up, mace in hand, peering into the gloom ahead.

“Ah…yes, I see what you mean, my friend,” Ambrosius replied, “but in the realm of magic, behind us is not always the same direction. What if passing through this door does NOT take us back to the hilltop on the Long Mynd?” The magus shook his head. “I appreciate your desire to be free of this, ummmmm, tomb, friend Geraldous, but finding a light source and, hopefully, the exit, are our first priorities.

"Very well then - I shall try a few paces ahead to see if the source of that glow is clear, but I shall go no further than that" Geraldous answered; "I shall certainly not abandon you here at the entrance". He moved off slowly, checking his footing carefully as he advanced.

Ambrosius leaned in close to the large slabs, studying them by Mnemosyne’s magical moonlight. They were split horizontally, midway between the ceiling and the floor. There did not appear to be any identifiable mechanisms – no hinges, levers, or switches that might operate the door. A complex carving of a stylized tree spanned both slabs. The top represented the crown of the tree with branches reaching towards the sky, while the bottom showed an expansive network of roots, several times more dense than the branches above, but more delicate and fine in nature. The carving was done in such a way that the individual lines, making up the roots, bark texture, and branches, seemed to cross over and intertwine with each other, creating hopelessly complex knots and relationships. Even the relatively straight lines of the trunk were intricate, finger-width hatching, knotting and crossings of individual lines. Ambrosius took to knee and studded the seam between the slabs. While the seam was obvious enough when it was not intersecting the tree, but where it did intersect, the seam was lost completely. Though it was clearly inset and a part of slab, where the carving crossed seam, the strokes of the carving seemed unbroken, as if the artist placed the carving on upon top of the slabs, rather than carving it into the block.

“There is no…um…clear way to open it, Maga,” Ambrosius said. Carefully, he pressed his palm against the top most slab and pressed firmly, sensitive to any hint of movement, but there was none. “I do not think that this opens in any, ah, conventional manner…if at all.” He stood up, his eyes wandering again over the carving, seeking any hint, any clue that might reveal how to overcome this barrier.