Story : Under a perfect blue sky.

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The view without was stunning; simply stunning. The sky was perfectly clear, with the sun high overhead. The Long Mynd was blanketed with a rich array of vibrantly coloured heathers and grasses, which stretched down the steep sides to a thick layer of fluffy white clouds that stretched seemlessly about the Mynd and away to the horizon.

Judging by their height about the clouds, and the change in topography, it seemed that the Long Mynd was now a good bit taller than it had been. If it wasn't now a mountain, it was certainly approaching that definition. The air was a bit lighter, and fresher than before. Any and every considered aspect of the Long Mynd seemed somehow better.

The summit lay to the south, down the greenway, which had become narrower, and somewhat rockier.

Mnemosyne circumnavigated the mound, looking carefully into thin air, with the occasional glance around at her other surroundings. After a circuit she reluctantly concluded that she could not see an obvious way back, which did not necessarily mean there was not one, but it did not make life any easier. She briefly informed Ambrosius on her lack of progress and went to join Geraldous at the top of the mound.

To the east, the land rose up steeply to the ridge which bore the greenway from the south, northward.

Reaching the top she found that Blathmac has followed Geraldous. She gave him a less than impressed look. "Blathmac, you were told to look after Ambrosius below and keeping an eye on the burial mound's interior would not be a bad idea either - we don't know what is in there," she commented in frosty tones. A moment passed and she noted a certain lack of comprehension on his face. She switched to Latin. "What are you doing up here, Blathmac?" She switched back to English. "Blathmac... There is a massive troll behind you and your trews appear to be on fire."

She sighed. Marcus had either lumbered them with an imbecile, or someone who could not speak English. He had arrived with Marcus, so Welsh would probably be no good, even if Mnemosyne could speak it, which she could not. She resorted to cruder methods. "Blathmac..." She pointed at the grog. "Go..." She pointed down the mound toward Ambrosius. "Watch..." She pointed at both of her eyes and mimed looking around alertly. "Ambrosius..." She pointed again at the mage. Then she gave him a firm, but gentle shove in the direction he was supposed to go in.

Blathmac watched with interest. He tried a few words in Irish, the one or two of the few words he knew in Welsh. Neither got a response, so with a shrug he turned back down toward the barrow. The ways of the magi were mysterious as always.

Mnemosyne then turned to more important matters and looked around to see what she could see, taking note of anything of particular interest - the less ruined building, other mounds, the greenway and other sites of note, and of course any beings apart from her own group. "Impressive," she said in English, in deference to Geraldous, but not really expecting a response.

The cottage-like building was pretty much as she had observed it from outside the regio. It was more obviously a victim of a house fire now that she could clearly see the way the stonework was blackened about the windows and eves. The mound that Geraldous went to investigate now looked rather more interesting than the green grassy lump it had been with the change in topography. The earthwork was now further down the hill than the barrow, and Mnemosyne could make out the central barrow with the enormous ring of earth about it.

She then began to intone loudly, her voice clear and powerful and matched her gestures. Wide and sweeping, exaggerated and highly descriptive. She would pierce the secrets of this place and it would reveal itself unto her. A moment later she closed her eyes and let the power of the aura rush over her and mentally compared it to other auras she had experienced as part of her training in the Hermetic arts. Slowly she nodded. She was a bit disappointed, but sure that she was right. Opening her eyes, she looked around and considered maintaining the spell for longer and wandering about to see if it made a difference. She was about to let it drop, the trip over to any of the other interesting features too far for her to really be bothered about maintaining the spell, when she considered the passage below.

Making her way carefully down the slope, Mnemosyne walked a few paces into the passage to about where they arrived and maybe a step or so beyond and once more sampled her senses. She confirmed that it was the same as that above and while the thought perhaps it may be different beyond the stairs, she was not foolish enough to explore down there alone. Further more, she had noticed as she had passed the doors that there amongst the branches was the image of single fruit about to drop, and many more which had already dropped. She suspected she did not have much time.

Trapped

Mnemosyne let her intellego spell drop, she turned and made her way calmly and sedately toward the outside, even as the last fruit fell from the branches of the carved tree and the doors began to smoothly shut. She took a step forward and then realising that way lead only to being trapped painfully between the closing doors, she smartly stepped back and the doors closed in her face, leaving her in almost pitch black... Almost, if not for the slight glimmering glimmering of the carved tree.

"Irritating," she said dryly. Still, at least she was more informed than before.


Ambrosius' eyes snapped open and he rolled to his right as the bottom door, upon which he'd been resting, began to move up underneath him. While he'd intentionally sat down on the door in hopes of knowing when it closed, he'd let his mind drift and was caught off guard when it began to move. He turned to comment on it to Mnemosyne and found that she was no where to be seen. Ambrosius was about to walk to the far side of the barrow mound when he saw her coming out of the gloom of the tunnel, stepping to the door. It was clear, both from the look on her face and speed the door was closing that she wasn't going to make it out. "Mnemosyne!" he shouted, but the doors sealed firmly shut before she had the chance to reply.

Ambrosius took a step back from the door, expected to have to get out of the way for Geraldous to come leaping from the top of the mound, but he must not have heard over the sounds atop the mound. Probably better that he remain unaware, Ambrosius thought. He turned back to the door and immediately noted the carving of the tree, identical to the one on the inside. Curiously, despite the significant amount of light falling upon the tree, it was not glowing. Apparently, a requirement for opening the door was the triggers be of magical origin. Perhaps that lent itself to the aura being magical? Ambrosius wasn't sure - he wasn't as schooled in regiones as many of his brethren. He'd have to ask Mnemosyne.

Now fairly confident that he could open the door, Ambrosius took a few extra moments to admire the craftsmanship of the door and its carving. He noted, with interest, that the seal the door created, both between the stones and around the edge was remarkably good...almost unnaturally so. What could the purpose of this disguised entrance be, he wondered? It could be a sanctuary, or a prison. He decided that great care should be taken, either way.

Taking his time, he began the motions and words to summon each of the elements. First, the light upon tree, then the earth upon the roots. Finally, he let the magically conjured water run down the trunk of the tree and into the roots, and took a step back as the doors swung horizontally outward.

Setting forth upon the mynd-cum-mountain

The doors swung openly more quietly this time, bathing the maga in sunlight.

"Out or in, not half and half!" snapped Geraldous as he saw what had happened. "We need to stay organised in this place, until we know if it is dangerous or not. Do you wish to explore out in the world here or inside that tomb?"

Blathmac looked around, feeling out of place and fairly useless. He was more comfortable with animals than people in any case. Speaking of which, where were the animals? He looked around more carefully for any signs of life other than themselves.

On the exposed hillside, he could see various insects and the odd butterfly idly flitting about in the long, sun-drenched grasses. He reckoned that any rabbits, or similar, would have scarpered when the heavy stone doors had grated open. Otherwise, on this section of the hillside, there were no creatures in view. He was just pondering what sort of creature he might expect to find in these parts, when, on a hunch, he looked up, and caught sight of some birds in the distance.

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