Complete - Avarice | Page 3

Darko watched on as the canvas was fashioned... into three parachutes? He had really thought that only one person or two was needed to cross that crevass in order for the party to make it to the other side. But if they decided to divide that canvas... into three...

"Wait," Darko shouted, but his voice was quite drowned by the cold draft of air that passed towards him, and so maybe they had not heard him when they decided to fly off. And, for some length of time they succeeded, as he watched them cross half of the crevass. Thinking that they had no problem on their end, and they should pass the crevass without any problem, Darko held his words as he prepared some coffee using the portable brewing apparatus that he brought with him. As he poured the hot liquid within the canteen that he brought, he then saw the party crash towards the crevass. He then wondered why, were the parachutes made really too small for them to handle the masses of the three people who tried to ride them? Wait, he saw something gleaming falling with the three of them. Those looked like sheets of snow, and it looked like they were splitting from the parachutes. It had looked like the weather had suddenly became inclement, which was why the parachutes became uncontrollable and their users fell into the crevass. Fortunately, he could still hear the three talking to each other after they fell, and it seemed that the crevass was not too deep.

As the bald man had stated, they were currently divided into two groups involuntarily, and so, as every hope of crossing the crevass directly crashed with the three of the party, they had to cross the slippery sides so that they could reach their destination.

Tying himself with the rest of the rope that the masked person had left remaining, he then set off with the party that had not fallen off, towards their destination. Hopefully, the bald man can anchor himself and the rest as they traveled, since if not, and he incurred an accident from all of them slipping on the glacier, he might have to torture this person who was oozing from too much self-confidence.

 

A slithering sound from far up, the rattle of tiny stones and bits of ice as they bounce and roll, dislodged from the cliff face. They pepper the ground in a shower of sand, the last grains of an hourglass slipping away.

The rope falls.

Winding, pouring down from the surface high above in a thin stream of splintered hemp, down and down, faster and faster, like Rapunzel’s golden locks sliced off for the first time at the ears, at the root, at the scalp—down comes the vines, brown and withered now cut from their creator and landing in a shower of dirt at the chasm floor like a thousand-food serpent slain from above, twisting, coiling, and—all is still.

Divided.

The six have been broken.

What was there to do but press on?

The two groups of three set off same way, parallel, almost side-by-side if not for the harsh vertical plunge between them. Below, the trio walk through darkness, illuminated only by the violet glow of Cain’s magefire, drawn towards that distant gleam as an anglerfish draws in its prey. Above, the winds are brutal—winter harries the three with each step, trailing them like a predator from afar, waiting for one mistake to make its move.

THE HIGH ROAD

The path above is treacherous, but your Yladian navigator's efforts and vigilant eye keep the group safe, and any close calls are merely that—close calls, but not deadly ones—thanks to his precautions. The knowledge of your own limits in this deadly weather urges that your group moves quickly, and so you proceed, the need for haste evident. The narrow path becomes a dry creekbed etched into the frosty ground as you proceed to the far side of THE BELLY.

It seems the cold front struck here and moved on as suddenly as it seemed to creep up on your party to begin with—yellow tufts of grass and leaves poke out through the snow at this far side of the gorge, giving you additional traction as you press on. Large chunks of ice seem to be breaking free from the sides of the creekbed—on closer inspection, it might shock you to see half-formed tadpoles frozen in them, preserved perfectly in icy crystal.

THE BELLY narrows at this end, becoming a mere fracture in the rock only ten feet wide, then five feet, then a crack no wider than one might see in a city sidewalk before it disappears altogether. It is here the creekbed ends, some remaining meltwater leaking here in a mere trickle down the rock and into the darkness below. A newly-thawed frog floats past and rides this tiny stream off the edge, dropping off into the abyss.

On some inspection, far from falling to its doom, the amphibian can be seen safely clinging to a small rock shelf just below the surface. A series of sloping terraces lies here, carved by water eroding this side of the chasm. If you don’t hit your head, you could climb down them—or the missing half of your party, assuming they kept up with you, could climb up. There’s no sign of them in the darkness, however.

What do you do? Wait? Descend? Or CONTINUE?

@Nikephoros @Iván Carl @Darko Ljubicic

THE LOW ROAD

Shhhh...

Nothing so quiet could be good. Despite the nimbus of arcane energy their long-haired leader had summoned, it was slow going. Dizziness, nausea, injury—the man above who’d cut their lifeline had probably known best when he’d assessed they would more than likely have failed to climb back to the light. The three had to settle for walking along the canyon floor, each footstep a faint echo, the faint groan of the faraway storm a distant accompaniment. The skeleton or two they find as they progress is a testament to the deadly fall. And if some of those skeletons clutch a handful of gold coins, blackened by age and weather, it seems like nothing of consequence...

They might not have seen the gleam at first. To look directly at it was nothing, no light at the end of the tunnel, no distant goal awaiting them. But in the corners of their eyes and the sides of their senses was a shine, a metallic shimmer that signaled, quickened their senses, excited some part of them the way metal (bright and burnished and ever-beckoning) had always called to humankind. Whether they pursued it, suspected it, or thought it a trick of their eyes, their footsteps drew them there nevertheless. Fate. Calculated as their stats, or their sins, or the stars.

The way ahead tapers, growing narrow. Droplets of water now regularly fall from the ceiling. Those who looked up could see rock shelves arching high above as the way ahead became so thin that Janet almost couldn’t pass through, biting her cheeks and sucking in her stomach before tearing through and leaving shreds of her blouse behind on the rock. As the girl collapses, puffing for breath, the trio finds themselves on the far end of a bottleneck, the chasm opening up again before them in a deep, bell-shaped cavern. Only that faint crack of light high in the sky proves they still stand in the heart of THE BELLY, deep within the earth.

But that light illuminates this chamber—and what fills it.

Hidden: Rags to Riches

• So Much Gold
• Attempting to place in digital inventory will result in an ERROR: LIMIT EXCEEDED. Trying to place partial amounts will yield the same result. A glitch?
• The gold is tangible and completely real by all methods of testing currently available to you.
• On the far side of the pile, the path through the chasm continues.
• Mood Music

@Cain Darlite @Janet Reilly @Ira

 

That…

…was a lot of gold.

It was a small hill of gold coins, each of them glimmering with an intoxicating glint deep within the abyssal cavern, as if this collective wealth alone could make it glow. More gold than he had ever seen, more gold than he had witnessed Seigi win in the Moon Booth. More and more and more gold than was even amassed for the rebuilding of Astorea. It was gold beyond his wildest dreams, gold that could easily be used to purchase all the equipment he needed, and then fund a private army afterwards.

This…this was the sort of hoard one would expect to be defended by a dragon, but, as the amethyst glow expanded, filling the room with violet illumination, no demonic beast emerged. Only stone, scarred by ancient battles and the crusted blackness of dried blood. There were more skeletons here than anywhere else, ghastly remnants of the dead, their armor and weapons long disintegrated by erosion. A fight in the past then, against a great monster that slew them all but died of its wounds, leaving its treasure unmolested for a millennia.

For a moment, darker thoughts bred in Cain’s mind, as he turned to his much, much, much weaker companions. He could do it. He could kill them all and take it for himself. It was the wealth of nations, found in a single cave on a single mountain that no others were aware of. He could definitely do it.

But such thoughts were the height of irrationality and foolishness. They were all immortal adventurers. They could carry this information outside of their deaths, could come back and haul out the treasure that could not be stored within the ethereal virtual inventory. The Flagbearer reached out for one coin, noted the foreign markings on both sides, and then flicked it upwards, arbitrarily deciding that one design was heads, the other tails.

He caught it, slapped it on his hand, and then took a look.

Tails.

“Well, it’s decided then,” Cain said, with an easy smile, “The finders are the keepers. How about we keep this as a secret between the three of us and pick up on this afterwards, friends? After all, we’ve still got a mission to do and an assassin to defeat.”

The smile remained as he turned his back on Janet and Ira, walking around the sparkling hoard and down the winding ravine path once more. Two eyes forwards.

But his sharpest senses backwards.

He wouldn’t mind leaving this gold for another day, but if the others had any darker ideas that they wanted to act upon…well, he’d be ready.
@Janet Reilly @Ira

 

Ira eyed the mountain of gold with distaste. Living life with servants at your beck and call, having never hungered for longer than a second before fresh plates of exotic cuisine was delivered to his room, did that to your sense of greed. He enjoyed nights of passion, delicate dinners, immeasurable prestige, and indefinable power as much as the other average Joe but it all dimmed somewhat when you had it all your life. The value of it was diminished and, even as Ira reached out to take a few coins, he wasn't particularly thrilled at the discovery. "If you wish, my love. My lips are sealed," he mimicked the closing of a zipper with pinched fingers brushing past his closed lips.

As he tried to pocket a coin, however, he found the most irritating message blocking his sight. ERROR: LIMIT EXCEEDED. Was this some sort of joke? Were they being played? His eyes briefly flickered to his gold accumulation and found that it hardly passed the two-hundred mark. He'd seen items being sold in towns that were worth thrice that much. He snarled with barely hidden contempt, opting to throw the coin back in the pile and spare himself the headache that future attempts would entail. He'll just carry it back the old-fashioned way later, splitting the gold between his fellow secret-keepers.

Still, there was a niggling feeling at the back of his head. An inkling of suspicion at Janet Reilly and Cain Darlite; a growing paranoia that the others could find out and there'd be consequences for the secret. He'd seen it plenty of times in the democratic court where his father had been a low-ranking yet influential and wealthy participant of. A cutthroat place where even a sliver of promised financial or political gain could result in grisly betrayals of the cruelest nature. He had no trust in those he had just met, even if they were attractive and Ira would, most certainly, want to bed them (whether it was just one or two).

"You may have my share of the gold," Ira offered, slinking over to Cain's side with a seductive wink. Ira had no such intention to part entirely with the wealth but he may be willing to hand Cain a portion of the gain if it meant securing a potential alliance should either Janet or Cain himself plot something of devious implications. Cain had obviously reacted better to his advances that Janet had and he was certain that the musician would be more open to a partnership than the woman. And hopefully it'll earn him brownie parts when it was finally time to seduce Cain Darlite from adventuring companion to bed companion.

"There is nothing that shines more than your smile, agape mou. There are no riches that could compare to your invaluable person. No opportunity that could ever topple my own, admittedly clandestine, desire for you."

@Cain Darlite @Janet Reilly

 

Breathing heavily, the stagnant trench air a poor reward for her frighteningly narrow squeeze, Janet straightened the front of her blouse and turned around to see why her companions were so quiet.

Janet had never imagined she’d see gold. Not like this. It was in necklaces and wedding bands and old men’s teeth and Pirates of the Carribbean, but not… face-to-face. Face-to-faces—the etching of forgotten kings, thousands, millions of them winking and glinting on each bright coin. It was dazzling. It was magnificent. All the fear she’d felt since the parachutes had failed and the three of them had fallen into the chasm began to melt away, warmed at the edges by the spectacular sight of the treasure horde, sleeping here in The Belly like a golden-feathered bird.

“Why… how is it…” Janet wasn’t sure what she was trying to ask. Spellbound, she walked forward, feeling loose coins shift beneath the soles of her shoes with each step. The girl leaned forward—gingerly, as if she couldn’t believe it was true—and let her hands rest on the side of the pile. I expected it to smell. Like metal, or something. The way a change jar did when you plunged your hand into it for the first time in a long while, fishing for quarters. But it didn’t—it was pure, and clean, and there for the taking.

The girl turned in a swirl of brown hair and clinked back to Cain and Ira, radiating excitement. “Isn’t this unbelievable? Think of—eugh!” She broke off suddenly as her foot came down with a hollow crunch, breaking right through the cranium of a skull. “No!” Exactly who the exclamation of denial was meant for was unknown, but as Janet anxiously shook the skeletal remnants off her shoe, the color drained from her cheeks again as she looked around the chamber.

As disgust and horror crawled across her face, Janet’s exuberance was replaced by the same thought she had when they’d first fallen from above. Was this a trap? Had a monster killed these soldiers, ready to feed on them next?

She looked up at Cain’s proposition, opening her mouth in surprise. Wait, not tell anyone? Why? Her astonishment faded. Because they can’t be trusted? Or because we'd all get less? If they were all splitting it evenly, that would mean they were all giving up half their share. After a moment, she closed her mouth again, biting her lip. “Are you sure?” she asked doubtfully. “There’s more than enough for all of us. I think, anyway. I-I’m not sure.” Her assertiveness was fading quickly as she realized she had no idea how much things cost in this world.

As Cain skirted the pile and continued down the passage, Janet lingered for a moment, looking back. “How much do you think is there?” she asked @Ira breathlessly, tearing herself away and pattering after their leader as he continued down the passage. “Oh, I don’t even know what to buy! What can you get in this game?” A farm? A castle? Her own pirate ship? She looked over her shoulder again at the gleaming pile of treasure, already shrinking in the distance. Stop that. We’ll come back for it. Wouldn’t they?

Would they?

“Ahem, @Cain —I don’t want to be a bother, but what if something happens to us while fighting Sin, and we can’t get back here?” Her jaw firmed. She didn’t think they had to worry about anyone else falling into the gorge and taking the treasure before them, but if she or Ira died… well, Cain could resurrect them! But if Cain died… It’s not likely. It should be fine.

Janet stopped in the passageway, biting her lip. She looked back again. “Just in case, maybe we should take a little, just so we don't leave empty-handed. I have some extra room where the rope used to be, I’m sure I can bear quite a bit of it.” That was a good idea, wasn’t it? With her Heroic Might mastery, the teenager was more than capable of bearing such a heavy load on her own. “I’ll just be a moment!” she called, making up her mind. The nature magic user’s steps quickened as she strode back down the passage, hurt arm forgotten.

 

(a thousand sorries for the delay- I got really sick, and WB, and blah!)

Nikephoros, Ivan and Darko, along with possible other parties unnamed, wound their way along the narrow ledges of The Belly until they came at long last to its end. They were harried each step, from the yawning precipice that longed to swallow them whole... to the cutting chips of ice which flew through the air at high speeds, slicing flesh and drawing blood which only froze over into ever more red-hued ice in the storm. More than once the footing was lost, but true to his word, the elven man had anchored himself by using his polearm as an enormous pick axe, chipping it into the ice to prevent himself from cascading over into darkness... and risking the others, with him.

They made their way to The Belly's end, where the storm had gone and the world had thawed in some small measure. Delighted, Nikephoros knelt and used his nature magic to urge the greenery to life, conjuring up a small plant... a cotton plant. It began to rapidly grow and shed its gift, producing a great abundance that they could stuff into their clothes to stave off the cold. He used his magic to remove the pits which would have otherwise scratched them all terribly, and began collecting handfuls of the stuff, shoving it into his clothes and shaking so that it evened out.
"For the cold," he explained to the others, gesturing to the spare piles of cotton which could be used to prevent hypothermia or the terrors of frostbite. But he was not yet fully satisfied... and turning to the greenery once more, he grew some tea leaves and forced them to age and dry, then plucked them to brew later. A nice kettle of tea would be lovely, in a bit... but they had a mission.

"It looks like The Belly ends here. If the survived the fall they can find there way here. If they didn't, it's up to us. We have a man to meet, and a life to take. We can't dawdle waiting on the might-be's of others. I'd recommend sending a private message to them telling them to head..."
He glanced at the sun, read the directions.
"North-west, through the gorge. They should be able to climb up if they reach this point. Then they can rejoin us."

Actually, come to think of it... why hadn't anyone tried to PM the people when they fell? They were fucking terrible at this game. Ah, well. It wasn't like they'd formed an OFFICIAL party, so he had no way of seeing HP or conditions of others, and none of these people were on a friend list of his. That, at least, was his excuse... Had nobody else formed a party? Added friends? Oh god, they were fucking TERRIBLE at this game!
"Let's go see a man about his murder," he joked, getting himself back on topic. And with that, he began marching towards their original destination, keeping the ropes that bound them together in case a deadfall hidden by the snow might suddenly claim somebody. It was mountain climbing 101.

 

Drowning in Excess

It could never end with a single coin or two, could it?

As her companions disappeared from view, obscured by dark stone, the allure of gold simply became more and more powerful. It didn’t have to be just exchanged as coins. It could be melted down, its value no longer restrained just by absolutes. If she pounded them together, they could be forged into gold bars, and maybe that’d bypass the inability for such beautiful gold to be placed safely into her inventory. So many options, so much value. A treasure trove for a king. Forget houses, farms, ships.

This was power. Fortune that could make her mightier than any level of Mastery. She could buy provinces with this hoard, could purchase lives and love, could make even the mightiest adventurer bow down. Astorea, for all its military might, was constantly starved, after all. Becoming a Duchess would be an easy feat with such wealth.

And, as the first glimmering coin found itself in her palm, a spark, lightning in the night sky, shook her to the core. How beautiful, how absolutely beautiful. Of course she couldn’t stuff it in the inventory, couldn’t convert it to mere statistic. Each coin was a masterpiece in and of itself, and it was naught but a crime to place it somewhere she couldn’t see. Oh, but she did have to hide it from prying eyes, no? Those vultures, seeking to take a split of the treasure that they would have never found if she hadn’t plunged through the crevasse first.

Such power. Such glory. It could even translate into the real world, if she could sell this information to TS players offline. Knowing those dumb kids with access to their parents’ credit cards, she could make thousands of dollars EASILY off their naivety and lack of self control. A vacation with her hubby? Perhaps enough to finally convince him that they had all they needed for a comfy retirement, so he no longer had to work such long hours?

Hah, compared to the frivolities that those teenagers masquerading as gentlemen and playboys would spend it on, such a large hoard would surely be spent best in her own hands?

One coin was palmed, then another.

Each became a voice in her mind, a ceaseless chant.

More. More. More. More. More.

Oh, the ecstasy!
@Janet Reilly

 

Iván was not a fan of how violent the wind was. Even through his red mask, once the face of a deadly predator from down in the Spire, he could feel the torment on his face. Forward they pressed on, as fast as they could, rather as slow as they could, as steady as their gait would allow them, as careful as their senses would let them. As much as it was smart to tie themselves to each other, it was also dangerous. Their intention was to ensure that not one of them would fall down to the depths of the abyss, not unlike their former companions, but now it was going to take only one mistake from only one of them to ensure that together they all fall down anyway.

Thankfully, the bald Yladian was adept at leading them to their safety, making sure he wasn't the one to make that terrible mistake. There were close calls, those couldn't have been avoided, considering the weather and how treacherous their path was, but his precautions made sure they were just that, close calls, never that one final mistake. Iván appreciated his efforts, his skill. Without him, who knew what could have happened to them? Perhaps, they wouldn't have made it as quickly, as fast, as alive to the far side of the Belly.

Iván noted the frost on the ground. The narrow path had perhaps been some sort of creek bed but was now dry. He tried to look around them as safely as he could, without risking anything with more unnecessary movement. There were grass and leaves still poking out of the snow, through the snow, in the farther side of the gorge, benefiting their team in terms of traction. He found some larger chunks of ice off the side of the creek bed. There was something in them, but he couldn't see exactly what were they from where he stood.

At the end of the creek bed, there was water leaking but only as a mere trickle down the rock and straight into the void beneath. Is that a frog? Iván unexpectedly spotted something that resembled a frog using the tiny stream to move, only to fall to the darkness below. Or did it? There was a small rock shelf just beneath the surface, and it was what had saved the amphibian. There seemed to be a path close by, some sort of steps. Could they climb down through them? In that darkness, Iván did not find the answer easily.

What he found instead was more kindness offered by the Yladian, spare piles of cotton "for the cold." What Iván was wearing was suitable for the cold, but in this specific cold, any more warmth was much appreciated. He simply nodded to acknowledge the gesture before accepting it. A private message? That would be suitable, efficient. Perhaps Iván could send @Janet Reilly a quick missive. Could she receive it, though? He had to at least try. "I'll get to it," he nodded at the Yladian once again and quickly took some time to write that message. Thankfully, after his first encounter with Janet, he made sure to discreetly add her info.

Iván Carl

Northwest. Through the gorge. Climb up. Rejoin the group.

He followed the Yladian as he led them again. With his current track record, it would've been a mistake to change that. He was a good leader. He was keeping them alive. They should stick to this status quo. At least until they get near their man, his man. Iván had questions that maybe he could answer. He must find out more. He must, he must, he must.

@Nikephoros @Darko Ljubicic

 

Once she started, she couldn’t stop.

I’m just going to carry a little with us, just in case. Just in case something happened, just in case the strange assassin they’d been sent to kill ended up killing them instead, just in case she and Cain and Ira couldn’t make it back to this deep, deep canyon with its skeletons and its belly full of gold. Just in case.

Coin after coin, at first just one at a time and then two at a time, three, (like eating French fries) then handful after handful. Gold poured through her fingers like water, glistening, quickening. She filled her pockets. She filled her boots.

Just in case.

She filled every flap and pouch on her pack and it was not enough—she turned it over and let its contents spill out, the pickaxes and pitons and the neatly-rolled sack lunches she’d packed for the boys (only five—and she’d packed six, too, what a waste, what a waste)

Couldn’t stop, couldn’t stop, couldn’t stop.

Janet was not a greedy person. She was not one for aspiration, for power, for material gain. Her great desire (and great regret) was comfort, safe and simple; never struggle, never hunger, never fear. For comfort she had married, for comfort she had moved, for comfort she had lived twenty years with a man she felt she’d never learned to love (or hate) and never left, never changed, never strayed, never turned her nose up at the yearly salary of her single-income household. She had never needed more—

Just in case, just in case, just in case.

Who knows what might happen? It was so beautiful. How many wedding bands could this gold make, how many college funds and plane tickets back home could this much—it’s just a game. It’s just game-money. But she was here and it felt real and surely there could be some way to make it work, she didn’t know how but Janet didn’t know a lot of things about the game and if there was a way and something happened at the peak it was better to be prepared just in c—

BING!

“Eeeek!” Janet dropped the pack, which landed with a soft clink of hundreds—could it be thousands?—of gold coins packed within. She stood, breathing heavily, her hands trembling at her sides. What was that sound? Her heart skipped a beat. Why am I so nervous? It wasn’t like she was stealing this money, or like anyone would catch her even if she was…

Janet opened her palm menu and finally saw the alert. Two missed messages? There was texting in this game? Well! She certainly hoped carrier rates and data limits didn’t apply. Clicking the message (and frowning in confusion at the Yladian screenshot @Nikephoros had sent hours and hours ago, which she had never opened) Janet stopped when she saw the message.

Iván Carl?

Ivan? Where are you? Also, how do you get the special character to make the mark above the A in your name? I can’t find it

How did you know I was down here?

Ivan? Answer me

Ivan, this is Janet. Answer me back, please

The message from her fellow Witch Ops member, almost like divine interference, had broken Janet out of her reverie. Perhaps the masked man had sent him on this mission too. She chewed her lip. If things were that grave, it seemed she couldn't dally any longer. She looked back at the pack, swollen with treasure, and then longingly back at the pile. Goodness, I can’t carry any more. This is enough for now. Besides, she was getting anxious about what Cain and Ira must be thinking. She hoped they wouldn’t think she’d lost her head, or that she was doing anything suspicious! It was for all of them, after all. Well, the three of us.

Shouldering her heavy pack, the shoulder-straps biting into her flesh, Janet hurried back into the tunnel to catch up with the others, breathing heavily. Together, they reached the end of the gorge and ascended from The Belly back into the light. The three survivors of the fall into the chasm approached the second half of the party. Janet didn't wave. Her hands were occupied, tightly clutching the straps of her expedition bag with knuckles white and body tense. "There you are! I'm glad everyone made it!" She put on a smile to reassure them.

Just in case.

@Cain Darlite @Ira @Darko Ljubicic @Iván Carl @Nikephoros
OOC: The two halves of the party have caught up with one another! I'll give people some time to interact & catch back up and will update more formally on Saturday.

Hidden: Bonus Janet

​

 

TOGETHER AGAIN: RESUME

The Six had reunited as if nothing had changed.

Did anyone ask how they’d survived? Where they’d been until now? Or whether they’d found anything at all… Some brief greetings might have been exchanged, true, before the party carried on. Relaxed. Noncommittal. No resentment, no hard feelings. Was that really how it was? Could human beings so easily bury their grudges, so easily snuff out their anger, their impatience, their misunderstandings for the sake of a stranger’s goal?

Perhaps…

Did Janet (with her pockets and her pack and her boots stuffed with treasure) believe it? No, no, no. With each step up the icy slope, the path to their final destination, the teen became more convinced of it. It was impossible nothing was wrong. Cain and Ira had said nothing to her, as if they had no suspicions at all. Darko and Nike seemed focused on navigating. And Iván… why, Janet had seen no sight of him at all, and that fact worried her and burrowed at her paranoia even more as they ascended. How did he know I was down there? Did they all know?

Did they all know her secret?

The girl kept quiet, kept her head down, kept trudging up the slope. THE BELLY was behind them, its depths with their hidden treasure still intact, merely awaiting the trio’s return. How would they lose the others before then? She didn’t know, she didn’t know—her eyes were fixed on the icy path ahead, but her mind was still filled with travel, with castles, with beaches, with perhaps—just perhaps—

@Iván Carl @Cain Darlite @Ira @Darko Ljubicic @Nikephoros

The winding road led the players up the final peak like the red stripe around a candy-cane, a ribbon that twisted and circled up, up, up. The only girl among them lagged at the back, struggling to keep up, towing a golden weight that none of those with inventories need ever bear.

At last, they crested the final rise. Ahead, their destination at last: A carved entryway to a natural cave, marked at the end of both Cain and Nike’s map. The party of adventurers stood on a small clearing of flat ground, given a moment to catch their breath and prepare themselves for the worst. It was the telltale sign of a boss fight that any gamer would recognize, the area of respite, of reprieve, before the players finally took a deep breath and surged onward.

But @Janet Reilly didn’t know any better.

She trudged on, her ears filled with hollow echoes and her aching back stocked with gold. Unnoticed, uncharacteristically quiet, she avoided the men, the others. Her sack lunches had been left in the bottom of the canyon. Her certainty in the outcome of this mission was there, too. Was there a point? Any reward the hooded man gave them would be far, far less than what she’d already gathered—and what more to come, if they could just make it back. Why risk it? Why—

When next the others looked—before they even realized it—the girl was gone.

Hidden: Theme

TALLY YOUR SINS

​

One might have expected the stalactite-studded cavern to be dark, but in fact it was dimly lit by glowing scratches, tally-marks, which gathered in bunches on the stone walls like tormented picket fences. PRIDE was scratched here in the stone nearest to the door, then LUST nearby, guarded by its own nest of tallies. Looking around, the sins were all here, carved and gleaming with pale light.

To the relief of those who might have feared the worst, Janet could be clearly seen standing on the far side, staring up at GREED. The brunette’s long brown hair hung in a straight curtain behind her, her bulging pack sitting on the ground by her feet. She had her back to the entrance and seemed to be reading, counting the scores of fives and tens and twenties written out across the wall.

“How long as he been here?” The girl asked without turning around. “Sin, that is. Waiting for someone to come kill him.”

There was a gasp from behind the party and the heavy clink of a sack of coins dropping to the ground. There, again, was Janet, pointing with a quivering finger at the figure on the far wall. Her face was pale. “Wh—that’s—don’t trust it!” she shrieked as the figure slowly turned around. “That’s not me!”

She elbowed her way through the others until she stood face-to-face with the other, trembling with outrage. “Don’t be ridiculous!” the other said, giving a little sniff. “I can’t even—that outrageous logic will never work on them! And what is this magic, anyway?”

The second Janet backed away, eyes darting back to the party. “Help me!” she said desperately, “That’s Sin, we have to kill him!”

“Stop it! That’s not going to work, just come quietly! There's no need to kill anybody.” the other said sharply. They both hesitated. And then in a blur of movement, they both seemed to attack.

Plants suddenly erupted from the ground around both of them, impossible to tell who’d conjured what, and the scene fell into chaos. The words and tallies on the walls began to blink in rapid succession, creating a strobing effect in the otherwise dark cave. GREED flickered wildly like an old neon sign as the battle began between the heroes and the Janets, against the crafty doppelganger, against themselves.

INSTRUCTIONS

Hi peeps! Here's how this is going to work:

• Make your attack vs Sin and roll a d4 at the bottom of your post. If you're not attacking, no need to roll. This is still mostly freeform.
• On a 1, your attack misses Sin and hits the "real" person, not the doppelganger. Please go back and tag that character if this happens!
• On a 2, your attack misses both parties. Fail.
• On a 3, your attack succeeds and hits Sin. Yay!
• On a 4, your attack succeeds and Sin transforms, taking on your form instead. Edit+tag me on this result so I can respond!
• Sin needs seven successes total to be defeated.

Also, there's a giant bag of gold on the ground. Just saying.

 

Could human beings so easily bury their grudges, so easily snuff out their anger, their impatience, their misunderstandings for the sake of a stranger’s goal?

Hahaha.

No, they could not.

But no matter the wealth that Janet had carried upon her, bulging from her pack, from her pockets, from her shoes, Cain turned a blind eye. The wealth of nations, truly, but he could hardly be bothered to care. The aureate allure could not bind him down for long, and if others sought that gold, sought to interrogate the woman of where it had come from, of why she jingled and jangled with each step, that was none of his concern. What he sought was blood and violence, a clash of villainy and heroism ending in a starburst of conflict and catharsis. But there was no bright star there. A pervert, an edgelord, a goth, and a gold digger. Shadows could only be as dark as the light was bright, and here, it was all just gray.

He should stop thinking about that.

He should probably try a bit more.

But this was tiring now. No real connection to anyone here. No real interest invested in this mission. And a journey that became significantly easier after they had failed to cross the Belly of the mountain. It was all rather disappointing, wasn’t it? Trudging through the stony path, Cain shadowed Janet, his form enough to ward off potential questions about her sudden wealth, waiting for the next event to occur. A monster, perhaps? Or maybe a pretty natural wonder. Or hey, he totally was down for climbing a frozen waterfall to reignite his interest.

But there was none of that.

No, as they stepped into the cavernous room, seven sins etched into the walls, the Flagbearer of Miracles narrowed his eyes. So this was the lair, and this was their foe. A doppelganger who sought confusion? Was it all planned then? The gold they happened upon? Had Sin hoped that they would tear themselves apart over it? Hah.

Cain grinned, feral, wolf-like.

His sin was not greed, lust, pride, envy, sloth, or gluttony. No, his was the Wrath, an unending desire for more and more and MORE, to burn into charcoal and turn into fuel, blazing away like a supernova of a furnace! Did the gold matter? Did the journey matter? Did the righteousness matter? Hahaha!!!

“THERE’S NOTHING TO WORRY ABOUT, JANET!” The midnight haired muse cried, a complex magical circle constructed within mere moments around him, “IF YOU DIE, I CAN ALWAYS REVIVE YOU, SO JUST FIGHT LIKE YOU WANNA LIVE!”

Maybe he was playing the heel, just a little bit, but as endless amounts of amethyst brilliance set fire to the engravings in the room, it was clear that Cain was done with this boring, quiet mood. He was Flagbearer, he was Slaughterer, he was the Double Blessed who held Life in one hand and Death in the other. With a booming laugh, arcane power burst outwards from his elegant form, a destructive serenade that smashed the vines apart.

If there was one mistake Sin made, it was not stealing the face of the sole potent support in the group.

After all, as long as he lived, no one else ran the risk of death.

Thrown die:

2

 

Of all the sins that the masked illusionist, Iván Carl, could call his own, greed has never been one of them. Apathy maybe, but greed? Never. Sure, he liked to keep certain things, but he has never gone out of his way, over his limit, to procure something, to keep them with him, to hoard them, hide them, indulge in their presence more than necessary, all because he had some sort of strange fascination with material objects that could be melted down, taken from him, just like that? No material possession could be that important.

Even before he could notice that @Janet Reilly had replied to his message, all six of their party were reunited. Perhaps, if he had been someone else, Iván Carl before his encounter with his purple god, he would have delighted in the fact that they were all complete, just as they were when they left their meeting place, after the last member had caught up with them. Yet he felt nothing. With the exception of the lone woman, Iván did not know any of the others. To him, they were expendable, as he knew he was to them. They were not friends. They were most certainly not family. They were just a bunch of people working towards the same goal, perhaps with differing ulterior motives.

From behind his mask, Iván kept his eyes on the only person he knew. With the six of them together again, he could afford to switch his attention from the Yladian to the woman. She seemed a little bit...off. Iván could not put a finger on it, on the reason why, but perhaps something down there, where the three of them had been, happened, something that could distract her. Or perhaps she was simply that way. He had no way of telling. After all, Iván and Janet weren't that close to begin with.

As they made their way through the winding road, to the carved entryway of a natural cave, Iván kept his mouth shut. He simply observed, watched the others as they went, taking notes of what he needed to, making sure he wouldn't get caught unprepared. The last time he was, he died. It was an enlightening death, however, but a death was a death. That expedition was technically a failure. People lost ears, limbs, sanity, even lives. He did get a souvenir from out of that hellish experience, though. He grinned from behind the red mask that hid his face.

Lost in his thought, the masked illusionist failed to notice Janet had gone missing. He was caught surprised when he found her standing elsewhere, far from where she had been. Teleportation? No, why would she bother? Unless this was her trap from the very start. But for what reason? Maybe she was Sin. No, Iván had worked with her before, not intentionally, but it was an experience that left on him an impression of the girl. She couldn't be Sin. It was just not her thing.

And then another Janet made its presence known. Things had turned quite interesting, though at the same time, perhaps also deadly. Iván listened intently at both Janets argue with each other. One of them wanted to kill the other. That didn't sound very Janet-like. The other opposed to the idea of killing anyone. That was more Janet-like. Wait, which one said which thing? It was going to be harder than he expected then. Iván sighed, annoyed at the idea of being subjected to the very same thing he would have subjected anyone else to. This Sin... He has come prepared.

His thoughts were interrupted when one of them (@Cain Darlite) started attacking both Janets, apparently missing. Iván shook his head and took out his hammer. He wondered if he could do better. Grinning, he closed his eyes for a second and said a prayer to the purple god for the real Janet, "May my hammer bludgeon the sin that must be forgiven. May the purple god enlighten the woman if need be."

He then charged at one of the Janets, fully intending to knock her unconscious.

Thrown die:

1

 

Long, writhing shadows danced across the strobing walls as plants warred against one another, twisting, grappling. Both of them—the Janet suspended in the air by a vine and the Janet stomping a vine on the ground looked up at @Cain Darlite's declaration. Both sets of eyebrows drew together in identical frowns. “What?!” they both exclaimed. “What do you mean ‘if I die?’” The one in the air demanded, dismayed, while the other one shrieked “What do you think I’m trying to do?” at the same time.

The two duplicates stopped to glare indignantly at one another amidst the clashing foliage for an instant before a ripple of light and magic blasted through and outwards, scything through the composite jungle in a single stroke. Janet recognized the color (and laugh) as Cain’s, opened her mouth to say something, and shut it again just to stare. The man’s face was transformed, his eyes glittering with wild, joyous light.

Oh my God. He’s really going to kill me.

…And bring her back, allegedly, but who could be sure of that? Not her, for goodness sake, she had enough doubts about the others as it was! Of course she trusted Cain, the man they’d elected leader of their party—she trusted him to follow through with the goal the cloaked man had set for them, anyway. But I’m the collateral damage! Never mind trying to tell the two of them apart, he'd found the most pragmatic (and most upsetting) solution!

“CAIN!” she shrieked as she flew into the air, tossed by a vine in its dying throes as the deadly blade of magic blasted past where she would have been standing. “What are you doing?! Stop that this instant, I refuse to accept this!”—but at the same time Janet also shrieked “I knew you’d turn on me! It was only a matter of time after we found that gold, oooh—never trust a man with long hair!” Both of them landed clumsily, staggering, their combined forest of nature magic disintegrating into ash around their feet.

On the walls, the flickering tallies glowed amethyst. It was like they were laughing.

Janet was breathing hard, looking around desperately. Her heart leapt at the sight of @Iván Carl approaching—it’s him! The cloaked man who'd hired them, the masked man who'd journeyed silently alongside them—Of anyone, surely the one who’d sent them on this quest could tell the real Janet apart from Sin. “Thank goodness,” she breathed and turned towards him blithely as he approached with swift strides, “It’s about time—"

…Why was he pulling out that hammer?

“B-but—you—”

Tittering laughter suddenly escaped the other Janet’s mouth as she turned and saw her doppelganger crumple beneath the blow. “Yes, that’s right!” she cried, “Finally, someone gets it! Quick, everyone—get her, get her! Before she turns into any of you!” She started to run forward. Then her head turned, eyes crossing Cain’s. In the strobing light of the tallies, they gleamed with challenge. And then fear twisted Janet’s plain features and she began to back away, pointing at the man. “Just… just keep him away from me!” A hysterical note had entered her voice. Calculated. Cunning.

On the ground below the masked man's raised hammer, the real Janet lay with shock waves still reverberating behind her eyes. The pulsing lights in the cavern were spinning, spinning, fading, going black. Where was—how could—who—

"...Why?"

OOC: To clarify, there's still no posting order! Jump in when you can and make your attacks if you want to, I'll reply back on 1's and 4's until Sin is defeated. (edit) don’t wait for me tho haha @Ira @Nikephoros @Darko Ljubicic

 

In the corner of his Party UI, Cain could see it, that HP bar decreasing as Ivan’s hammer struck the side of Janet’s head. He knew then, instantly, the difference between a doppelganger and an original. Knew, understood, had a solution already blossoming in his mind. But…

HE TOTALLY STILL WANTED TO BLOW OFF STEAM!

Janet’s cries went unnoticed, the nature mage having only taken circumstantial damage thus far, with Ivan’s little prayer was cute and roleplay worthy, even if the man himself stank of hot springs and curry. Pushing aside severed chunks of plant matter, Cain breathed out slowly, before beginning the second act of his magical orchestra. Poised like a conductor, the Flagbearer of Miracles spread out his hands, grasping onto the invisible vestiges of the magic that he just wove, twisting and turning the threads into another silken display of arcane might. Like rolling thunder, sound reverberated through the cavern, echoing, intensifying, grains of dust falling from the ceiling.

If not the amethyst sickle, then the azure meteor, harmonics weaponized the same way that he had slain the Bandit King with.

There was the challenge in that Janet’s eyes, burning and twisting, and Cain held onto that light even as her expressions twisted into fear and paranoia. Ivan had struck a blow against one. Now was Cain’s turn to strike a blow against the other.

The madman would not stop, even if the entire party turned against him.

After all, he was the most powerful adventurer amongst them all, and a large portion of them…well, Cain didn’t think they were very useful at all.

Oh, but if she wanted to play that game…

“Hey @Ira ! Time to pick sides! Does the wind blow against me, or behind me?”

With that echoing proclamation, an azure wave cascaded upon the doppelganger, white, cacophonous noise drowning everything else out.

Thrown die:

1

 

Eyes glittering, reflecting the pulsing tallies on the walls, Janet watched the group of would-be assassins like a late-night hospital drama. What would they do next? Would they turn on each other, argue, strategize, blindly surge forth? Would they cut down the doppelganger like good little sheep doing as they’d been told, or spare her worthless life for the mere countenance of their friend?

The girl wasn’t afraid. She tucked her arms behind her back as ultraviolet power built up around the bard, leaning forward and cocking her head to the side. Despite her cutesy pose, her brows drew together in Janet’s signature frown, lips thinning, gaze widening. “Cain? What are you doing?” she asked sharply, pitch spiking in apparent fear. “Someone, stop him!” Under the strobing lights, the faces of the other party members were shadowed. “Please!” Janet tried again, expression dropping into a grotesque mask of desperation. “Someone, anyone! Don’t let him kill me, I’m the real one!”

“You’re not!”

The emotion dropped from Janet’s face as she turned to see the other figure, wobbling as it pulled itself from the ground. Gold coins spilled from her boots as the figure swayed, throwing out one hand to catch herself on the stone wall. PRIDE flickered brightly from above in tandem with the tallies, casting an amethyst-purple hue across the walls.

“Get o-out of my body!” the other Janet stammered, holding one hand to the side of her head where she’d been struck. She staggered, looking up for a moment. “Stop… stop trying to trick them into hurting me!” The girl stumbled into a run, coming towards Janet with the grace of a drunk, but with speed and raw force to make up for it. She struck her clone with fists and fear, battered at her like a bear thrown into a boxing match. She saw her wild blows strike home, she saw the illusion flicker for a moment.

But she didn’t see Cain.
And she didn’t see the smile on "Janet’s" face.

As the crescendo descended like a wave, the wounded girl clutched her head, vision blanched in dawning white. It felt like two hands were increasing pressure on either side of her skull like a cranking vice, her vision bursting into stars as Cain’s magic worked its disharmony.

Amidst the noise, through the pain of her ruptured eardrums, Janet could not hear the whisper. She could not feel the hands on her shoulders, the warmth against her cheek as Sin breathed. “Trying? My dear, I’ve already succeeded.”

Dropping the brown-haired figure, who collapsed again on the cavern floor, Janet dusted off her hands and stuck one finger in her ear, which was still ringing. “My, my. A shield does come in handy sometimes, doesn’t it?” She prodded the barely-responding body with the toe of her boot. “She’s not quite dead, I’m afraid. Will one of you spare me the trouble of disposing of this wretch?”

A new sin blinked to life on the ceiling like an old neon sign as the violet PRIDE faded, illuminating the western wall in deep ruby. Janet looked up as if mildly curious. “Isn’t that interesting? Whooops!” The lights went out altogether, drenching the cave in darkness except for the lone scarlet beacon. Five letters. WRATH. Janet’s voice came from the west—she was on the move, circling around the chosen six. “Who am I now? I wonder if you can tell.”

Thrown die:

3

Update: Due to inactivity, as of this post please roll two d4's now at the bottom of your post. Seven successes are still required. If Sin is not defeated in one month (by 6/14) he escapes and the thread will be concluded. Janet will contribute to failures/successes as long as she's alive!