Fantasy The Devil's Meridian (Closed)

[Emperor Sagan]

Most of the Sokrovians were carrying their shotguns, all pump-actions and loaded either with high grade buckshot or slug rounds. Good enough to take down a man and good enough to take down big game in Sokrovy. If there was anything out here bigger than a brown grizzly, then the better option was to run. Grenades were fine and dandy but whatever didn't go down from a fusillade of bullets from a large group of sailors and marines was one tough son of a bitch. Pistols had been passed around, in which the Archangel carried an abundance of. Some magazine fed, others bulky revolvers with a lot of stopping power. Lieutenant Williams favored a revolver of considerable size, while Kortova selected a slim magazine fed semi-automatic pistol. The holster fit neatly on her hip, opposite of her straight saber.

As they traveled, she did her best to get a good eye in on some of the stone they passed, wondering if any of it may have been brought to the islands they had searched. Ishra's Isle had been fairly barren but the constructions were sturdy.

"Mining settlements are often ephemeral," she said as they began to discuss which way to go. "I can't imagine one having lasted this long, though I suppose in this chill any rot has been slowed. I don't think we know enough about these people to know if they would pick a good place for their workers to live that is safe, or simply an expedient location to facilitate their mining operation."

"Of course, if they were building something with this stone uphill, even half built it should remain. Monuments or fortifications tend to last longer than homes. However, the issue here is that if we go up, we'll have to contend with worst wind and temperatures. Us Sokrovians can of course handle that, though it would be unfortunate for those not used to such things to be dragged along," she shrugged. "A pity. I think we'll all mange."

 

[K0mori]

Walkenhorst listened as the Captains discussed their opinions. Warren and Dr. Dos Santos shared the opinion that a trek downhill would be preferable, while Kortova suggested the opposite. Flint and Dobbs were both undecided, it seemed, and so Walkenhorst shared his thinking. "I'm worried," he began. "If we all go downhill, and the weather worsens, then that will make it that much harder to try to go uphill after the fact. But on the other hand, if we get up there and there's nothing to see, and no shelter, then we could be in serious danger quickly. I think we ought to split up. The Grand Captain makes a good point here, her crew can scale the ridge and deal with the elements better than any of us, likely. They can scout the ridge even faster if we're not slowing them down. The rest of us can go downhill, and when the Sokrovians are done they can descend and meet us there. We'll regroup and plan our next move based on our observations."

At that moment, Flint spoke up, indicating that he and his crew would follow Kortova to the top of the ridge. It was clear from the way the wind was picking up that their fears of blizzard-like conditions were coming to pass, and he did not want to be stuck at the coastline if Kortova was set to make a major discovery on the ridge. There would always be time to explore the coast afterwards.

With their plan now in motion, they parted ways. The Sokrovians and Captain Flint's team marched up the hill until the pathway curved around a corner to the south, and when they turned, they now began to notice carved symbols on the wall unlike anything they had seen thus far. They quickly took a rubbing of the glyphs before moving on, eventually having difficulty with traction as ice had frozen against the stone "floor" in the upper reaches. The Sokrovians easily overcame the obstacle using their ropes and other climbing equipment, and the Alleghenians swiftly followed, until they reached the top of the ridge. There, they finally saw what had been hidden from the shoreline, and it frightened them to their very core.

Away from the gloomy and colorless shores was a smear of sliver, glass-like shards with the slightest hint of blue which flickered in the twilight pitifully. The closer to the center of the island, the less natural and more crystalline the land became, until at the very center, there was... nothing. The land simply dissolved into a black void, the geode-like surface of the earth slumping into the gaping maw as if slowly being eaten away. Looking on the hole gave every viewer an intense sense of vertego and doom. They were forced to glance sparingly to take in what a catastrophe was unfolding at an apparently slow speed in the center of this unknown land. Eventually, they came to estimate that the pit was roughly a half mile in diameter.

There was a stone tower amidst the glassy formations, they came to notice, which had nearly been consumed by whatever was corrupting this land. It leaned precariously over the abyss, surrounded by crumbling walls and what appeared to be statues, half-eaten by the silvery glass.

Far away, the rest of the captains marched downward, toward the shoreline. They, too, turned south as the path curved, although a long distance from where their comrades now were, and made a discovery of their own. There were the unmistakable scattered remains of a village, although nothing but foundations and the bases of walls remained. These ruins had not been visible from shore, as another small ridge separated it from the coast, with nothing but a small, natural tunnel through the wall to allow for shore access. Walkenhorst grunted with a deep frown on his face. "Alright, let's fan out and see what we have here," he said.

The assembled team began to sift through the rubble, looking for something, anything, which would make this trek worthwhile. Their morale began to fall precipitously until Dos Santos found something worthwhile. Calling over the Captains, she revealed the treasure: a small, golden idol of Wulfera.

---
​

Rourke nearly dropped the looking glass in surprise. There it was: Albionian letters, clear as day! A mad smile crossing his face, he leaned in close so that he could see as much of the scroll reflected in the glass as he could, and read the carefully-written inscription.

Hark! To those who tread in the Holy of Holies
Speak not evil here, no lie shall defile these halls
As she, the great mother, protector of all
WULFERA proclaims truth in all things!

Stand not here in judgement unfounded
for we accept only love here
Love undying and eternal, as KAPTCOPF
rests perpetually deep within.

This is our testament, our gratefulness
to those who accepted that most terrible burden
to which we owe more than we can repay
they rest here with KAPTCOPF for sacred eternity.

May we wash away their suffering forevermore
under the shade of the white oaks of purity
May no one wake those who deserve sleep
or else death take them in!

This be Her decree.
Let none violate this sacred oath.​

Rourke was trembling with excitement as he read the final words, but as soon as he did so, they faded back into their original shapes in the mirror, and the looking glass lost its reddish sheen. No matter what he did with the mirror, he could not get the trick to work again.

 

[EdwardDewey98]

The cold. The unbearable cold. They were surrounded by it, and the weather only got worse. They had found what remained of the mining settlement, as Dos Santos expected. Most of the foundations were made out of sturdy materials. But sadly, with sections of the walls having collapsed and the lack of roofs to protect them from the weather, the houses are useless. This frustrated the crew of the Correntino. They hated this cursed cold and some wished to go back to the ship. But nonetheless, they continued with their duties and began exploring the abandoned settlement as ordered by the Alamannian captain. At first, it all seemed useless. There was nothing left among these crumbling structures. At least, moving heavy rocks and working with their compatriots helped warm the body a bit.

While looking among the rubble of a house, Dos Santos saw something strange among the snow-covered rocks. She carefully dug through until she saw a statue of some sort soaked in wet dirt. Using her thick gloves, she wiped the statue and looked at it for a while. It looked rather angelic. She then realized she was holding small idol made out of gold, dedicated to the Goddess Wulfera. "Hey! Everyone! I found something!" Dos Santos shouted while cleaning the rest of the Idol. Once the captains approached, she showed it to them. "I found an Idol of a Goddess. I think it is supposed to be Wulfera?"

 

[Infab]

The fact that the settlement was in ruins bothered Warren. They really needed solid shelter on this cold island. But the fact that they found nothing of real use bothered him more. There was quite literally nothing for them to salvage, and he wondered if the other group that had gone uphill found anything of use. Or did they share the same luck?

As he watched his men dig through the ruins of a small shack, he heard Dos Santos calling out about having discovered something. As Warren approached, letting his men continue searching, he soon arrived and found himself staring at the gold idol of Wulfera. "Interesting." he said simply. Just how many shrines to her were there out here?

 

[Emperor Sagan]

Lieutenant Williams directed much of the way up the hill, with the assistance of two marines who had undergone mountaineering training at some point earlier in their careers, either as national police officers, army reserve, or perhaps out of interest while in service at a military academy. Unsurprisingly, there was little overlap between sailing and mountaineering, but Sokrovy was a vast and diverse country and when it came to the wilderness, there was a good chance someone had some experience with that environment. Williams and Kortova were both city folk, though even that granted a degree of understanding above that of others south of the country. Sokrovian cities were youthful, with the oldest being no more than a scant three hundred years when the very first settlers had crossed the icy waters and made their timber forts and cabins on an unforgiving coastline. That meant that many settlements had the feeling of being a modern city plopped right down in the middle of the great outdoors, with no major deforestation for lumber or farming. Constantine, the capital, sat in what was essentially a gigantic bowl, with hazy blue mountains on the horizon and a sea of pine flooding in towards the city, where it resided on a broad, sleepy river.

Kortova had the feeling that this was just another hike in Sokrovy, some nameless ridge outside of the city, on their way to a fabulous mountain retreat. Pleasant thoughts for a not so pleasant situation. Stuck out here in the middle of a haunted, cursed, and anomalous region of the world where there was no help and even less luxury. Her colleagues were rude and she couldn't even begin to grasp the full complexity of the few things she had witnessed.

None of that even remotely came close to the scene that greeted them at the top of the ridge. It was like something out of a fairy tale, though what kind of tale it might be, Kortova couldn't guess. More like a horror story, something you read on a foggy morning or rainy night. Grim fables, some called them. Not written for children to teach a message, but for the adults, to instill fear into their minds and engage their imaginations. This... this went far beyond that. A terrible, gaping, fathomless maw in the very earth itself, the land corrupted by some geological disease.

"S-surely its not... that's not an actual bottomless pit?" She voiced aloud after a moment of silence. "I mean, its just an... an optical illusion right? All that silver and shiny rock down there, just a trick of the eye, bending the light and all that. Making it so we can't see the sides of the pit... right?" She couldn't even stare at it for long, and tried to settle with peeking around her fingers when she held up her hands, but that didn't quite help either as a chill washed through her, a chill not brought on by the decreasing temperatures.

"Perhaps its a crater," Lieutenant Williams said. "Look at the way the structures are tipping inwards there. Like a large shell took a chunk of the earth out, or a mine. A military mine, one packed with powder and chemical, though I suppose given where we are this could be some... drastic mine collapse. There may be tunnels beneath the ground." He tried to rationalize it as best as he could from a military or academic mindset, thought the captain's guess was just as logical. He did not like the look of the crystal. To him it looked like a festering illness around a bullet wound. Gangrene, perhaps, except of the earth. And rot had a tendency to spread. Was this just some limited disaster to this island, or would it continue to rot away until the island was swallowed up by this hole? What would happen when it met the sea? Would it be destined to swallow up the entire world? The notion was utterly ridiculous, even for a man who had witnessed magic and demons. No, no... this was surely a limited occurrence.

Kortova turned her back to the scene and took a deep breath, her mittens rubbing her arms. "I rather don't want to be on this island any more. We should go back to the ships. Ice be damned, we'll steam our way out."

"We may very well be forced to do that depending on the weather. Regardless, for now, I don't think there is... anything to worry about. The hole is way out there, and, ultimately, just a hole," Williams responded. He glanced around the landscape nearby to see if there was anywhere else to go - up, down, sideways - or if their journey was at an end on this ridge and that they would have to turn back down. Perhaps the other group had found something at the bottom.

 

[Radley]

As the party crested a ridge and looked out over what seemed to be a large valley, Flint was utterly baffled by the crystalline landscape. "What in the god damn..." he began, but was quickly interrupted by what entered his visions periphery. Despite the worsening weather, the group could see it quite clearly. The great abyss. The stygian depths held sway over Flint and his men, binding them in a spell of acrophobic dread. Eventually their bodies forced themselves to look away, lest they faint from vertigo.

As Williams began theorizing about the holes nature, Flint listened intently while studying the edges of it. He would periodically cast a glance directly at it, when his body permitted it. Furthermore, unbeknownst to himself, Flint was thinking the same thoughts as the Lieutenant, likening the the crater to a festering mass of corruption. His mind raced back to the image of the explosion crater from when they had destroyed the charm. The likeness of the darkness of this bottomless pit to that accursed soot of the damned seemed almost unmistakable. And with that realization came dreadful implications.

While the group had busied themselves with trying to fathom the phenomenon they were confronted with, a lone marine had stared wide-eyed at the pit. With a slack jaw and a razor sharp gaze, the marine slowly began stepping forward, pointing to abyss. "It's... the very maw of hell, o-opened to swallow this wretched wo-world... undeserving of salvation" he whimpered mostly to himself before Flint and another marine noticed him and pulled him around by his equipment suspenders.

"Just where in the hell do you think you're going, Mr.Bowman?" Flint said, shaking the marine slightly which seemed to break the spell. "The... tower, sir?" Bowman replied in a somewhat confused tone. Perhaps he didn't know why himself. "The ley line's gone, aint it? The fellas said the commodore did something to another tower to make 'em work properly when we first came... Right?" Another pause as Bowman looked down onto the ground, as if collecting his thoughts, before looking back up to Flint with a troubles expression, like that of a son wanting to give his father the answer he does not know.

As Bowman mentioned the commodore and the tower, Flint turned to Kortova and Williams. The crystal ball and the stone tablets that, if manipulated, could guide them across the ever-changing seas.
Flint looked down the the edge of the abyss and the crumbling tower and then turned back to the Sokrovians. "I would say Mr. Bowman raises a excellent point. Perhaps this is our only chance to get our bearing back?"

----

Rourke was astounded by this discovery, and read it through while trying his best to steady his trembling hands. A half-deranged smile formed on his lips. A smile that then disappeared along with the intelligible Albionian letters when he reached the end. When the script reverted back into Altanic and the looking glass lost it's red hue, Rourke was so baffled that he couldn't grasp what had happened. But when the realization hit him, he flew into a state of mild panic, wildly searching the desk for pen and paper. If the mirror could not help him read it more than once, he had to write down as much as he could remember. Unfortunately for Rourke, he had been so awestruck that Flints suggestion worked that he had not read the text with utmost concentration.

With a paper and pen in hand, he jotted down what details still remained fresh in his mind:

Holy of Holies
No lies
Great mother, protector WULFERA tells truths.

Undying and eternal, as KAPTCOPF rests within. (Sarcophagus and mural?)

Those who accepted a burden, debt repayment,
they rest here with KAPTCOPF for eternity. (Undead?)

Wash away suffering under white oaks of purity

Let none violate this sacred oath.

As Rourke underlined the last sentence, he lifted the pen from the paper with a shaking hand. He would need to tell the captain as soon as possible, as Flint would undoubtedly be interested in this information.
However, for the time being, he was content with sending a telegram to the Prophet. He had remembered that their crew had recovered a large number of books and documents from a library. In the telegram, he implored Doctor Lonstray to see if any mentions of KAPTCOPF had appeared in what they had been able to decipher so far.

 

[joshuadim]

Upon the Prophet, a telegram was received and relayed to the scientific assistants that were left on board in regards to Rourke's finding. Upon learning of this 'KAPTCOPF', the assistants looked to one another before quickly looking to the texts they had managed to start looking into thus far, trying to find anything that could point to such a name or thing referenced as such.

---

"Hm, interesting." Dobbs muttered as Dos Santos showed off the idol to everyone else. "Perhaps there's more to this place than we thought?" he pondered aloud, while in the meantime Lonstray decided to get some redings with some of the equipment brought along. A barometer and a anemometer were both set up to see if anything was particularly off about the air here in general, while Lonstray directed one assistant to take samples of the earth in the area.

 

[Emperor Sagan]

Grand Captain Kortova balked at Flint's suggestion and turned away. "You want to go out there, across that land and into that tower?" She said emphatically, as if Flint had suggested everyone strip, go down to the beach, and start swimming home the old fashioned way. "I'm not about to waste my- " she hesitated, about to my life and realizing how poor that sounded for a captain, so she altered mid-phrase to say, "my men on such a dangerous task. I don't think the commodore had that stupendous hole in mind when he wanted us to come searching for something of interest. I mean, heavens, look at that dreadful tower. It's practically falling over!" She stole another glance towards the pit and the corrupted land around it and shivered again.

"Perhaps this is a mission for volunteers," Lieutenant Williams said. He and Kortova shared a look and she realized what he was getting at - the Alleghenians would most likely be traveling down there. A Sokrovian should probably be down there, too. However, Kortova was unwilling, and Williams, while preferring to lead from the front, knew that Kortova would not only forbid him from going down there himself, he was also under obligation from the government and a third party to keep Kortova safe. The captain assented and looked over the handful of marines, who milled about. When none were immediately forthcoming, she smiled disarmingly and spoke the simple and powerful phrase that only she had the ability to say. "Volunteers get hazard pay," she reminded them. Indeed, there was a roster keeping track of who was earning specialty pay for various tasks. It was well crafted bait from the clever and calculating minds of the naval high command. Sailors were not rich men. They did what they did for the love of it, or because they had no other choice. Rum, women, and the lash. An admiral had once said that is what the navy ran on. Perhaps not as much these days, but it was true at some point. However, whoever that man was, he had missed one more vital factor - the pay. After all, rum and women weren't purchased by empty pockets.

"Ah, what the hell." One of the marines stepped forward, a private with a sallow face and hardset eyes, his uniform hanging almost loosely from his thin frame. Marine private Hal Yurvetski. He was an older man, and his jaw was already shadowed at this time of day. "I'll volunteer with the other lot. Footing out there ain't any worse than the glass fields," he said with one firm, unwavering look at the pit. Kortova wondered why a man would have knowledge of the glass fields, as such areas in Sokrovy were often very volcanic and very active, which did not even begin to describe the fatally sharp shards of obsidian and other rocks that littered such fields. Any man brave or foolish enough to tread that land would surely find this place much easier.

Private Yurvetski adjusted his shotgun onto his shoulder and looked expectantly at Flint and his group, waiting for them to take the lead on this.

 

[Radley]

Flint frowned as Kortova voiced her opinion about exploring the tower. The unwillingness in her tone was as clear as day to him, but he was determined that this was something that had to be done.
"I don't see we have any other choice, Miss Kortova." he replied in a gruff voice, "Our only way of navigation vanished into thin air and flows of ice pushed us wildly off course."
Flint, like Kortova, cast a passing glance towards the tower and the pit before turning his attention back to the grand captain. "We already know whats in that tower and what it's meant to do." he concluded, pointing at the tower.

There was a brief silence as the party remained quiet, the wind tearing at the clothes being the only sound. When Williams failed to procure anyone by trying to invoke volunteers and Kortova mentioned hazard pay, some of the Alleghenians chuckled. But they were quickly silenced by a look from their captain. Flint had been called back into service with his own crew and ship, so while his contract stipulated he answer to the Federal Naval Command, practically all the loot and discoveries were Flints own property. Essentially, if the Federation wanted any of it they would have to buy it for a hefty price. Flints crew was well aware of this and they knew if they did their duties and obeyed their captain, they would be handsomely paid.

When Yurvetski stepped forward and voiced volunteered, Flint studied him intently. Although slightly shorter than himself, the look in the sokrovians eyes conveyed confidence and self-reliance.
Flint gave a curt nod to the private and then gestured to two marines, "Mandell, Larsson, take point with the private."

As the group began descending the slope towards the crystal forest and the crumbling tower, Flint cast one last dismissive look towards Kortova before joining his the men in the front.

 

[K0mori]

The snow was getting heavier by the minute, and soon the cloak of ice had robbed them of most of their vision. This, compounded by the lack of sunlight now that dusk had faded fully to night, cast a sense of foreboding on the journey of Captain Flint and the volunteers who descended the opposite side of the ridge. As it would turn out, the land was gentler here than on the north face, allowing the men to make good speed toward the ghostly silhouette of the leaning tower, barely distinguishable from the blackened sky. It was long before the crunch of snow beneath their boots turned to a glassy crackling, and their surroundings grew more alien and hostile. They did not, however, lose their way. When they finally reached the corrupted edifice, Flint turned to speak to the volunteers and cast his lantern light across their faces.

The color had now fully gone from all of them. Their faces, their clothing, and their equipment were nothing but a pallet of solemn grays, as if they were a just a photograph on newsprint. The words were sucked from the Captain's mouth; this was no time for talk, and he doubted that the pallid faces that greeted him were in any mood to hear it. Instead, they pressed on, walking around the base of the tower until they found the entrance, half-concealed by the crystalline growths. They slipped themselves inside and found it full of warped wooden beams, petrified or rotted with age, and unfinished stonework in a rising spiral that curved nauseatingly toward what they knew in their hearts was certain doom.

The bottom of the tower offered nothing of use. They would need to decide who among them would ascend the tower, and if more than one, who would proceed first.

---
​

Kortova, now the highest-ranking officer among those assembled atop the ridge, had an important decision to make as the weather darkened and visibility slipped away. Would they stay camped here, waiting for the volunteers' return? Or would she take the assembled group and head back down the ridge to Walkenhorst and the rest of the excursion to link up, as previously planned? There was also a third option: The glacial crystal formations in the distance, while ominous, were also of a type unknown to previous explorers, to the Grand Captain's knowledge. With her team's experience, it might be possible to descend to the valley below, harvest some of the crystal, and then trek southward along the ridge to where, presumably, the quarry's road cut to the south. There, she could rendezvous with the others without having to scale the ridge again, and might even save them some time.

Each idea had its pros and cons, and varying degrees of risk. Her own sailors seemed to be baring the cold and fierce weather well, but the Alleghenians shivered in their jackets as they awaited orders. However, soon a new sensation occupied her attention. It started first as a tingling throughout her body which she ignored, but it intensified like pins and needles. She touched the side of her head and felt a dizzying spell come over her, and an eerie violet glow seemed to descend over the world around her, a glow that only she could perceive. She looked up to the hazy sky above, and somehow, through all the heavy blanket of clouds, she saw the outline of the moon radiating with power.

Carry it with you for the next seven nights, and never let it leave your possession. If you do, you'll grow stronger each time the moon rises...

She hadn't been awake so late at night since she accepted Ishra's token, and now the demon's words crept up on her. Now Lieutenant Williams could see her distress, and went to her, but there was nothing he could do as she doubled over and clutched at her aching skull. This grabbed the attention of the gathered marines, who watched in horror and fascination, as horns sprouted from just above the young woman's temples, silvery in color just like her hair. Williams grabbed his sidearm and got between her and the Alleghenians, to ensure that they wouldn't do anything reckless, as the new demonic additions slid out from her skin inch by inch, reaching a full length of ten inches from base to point, curved backwards along the edges of her beloved hat before turning upwards at their very tip, as if they were courteously accommodating Kortova's choice of dress.

When the sensations subsided, the Grand Captain couldn't care less about the opinions of her audience. A euphoric rush of joy flowed through her as she could feel herself grow stronger. "Fufufu..."

There was shouting between the Sokrovians and Alleghenians now. Kortova glanced up at their angered and frightened faces, and felt another new impulse shoot through her as she looked into their eyes. Flickers of images and fragments of thoughts passed through her; she could feel their intentions. Could it be possible...? If this continued, could she learn to do what Ishra had done, and read the thoughts and memories of others? She would have to be patient, as the power had not fully manifested yet, and the matter of calming these rowdy sailors down was paramount.

---
​

At the ruined village, the captains gloomily confronted the reality that, other than the idol discovered by Dr. Dos Santos, there was little to be found here. Dr. Lonstray, wishing to make some productive use of his time, set about taking measurements of the atmosphere, and that was when the truly strange began to emerge. Once the anemometer was deployed, a gust of wind harried the entire site, blasting the explorers in the face with stinging ice, and yet, the device registered almost no wind as it stood motionless in the ruins. Nearby, a barometer registered pressure which was comparable to a complete vacuum, and a thermometer's reading fell below its scale. It was madness- completely irrational. Nearby, a researcher took out a folding shovel to gather soil at the doctor's request. After casting the snow cover aside, he pressed the shovel into the dirt with his boot, scooping it up to place into a cloth bag for transport. The soil at the surface was a vague tan color at the surface - it was difficult to tell as all color was seemingly depressed in this forgotten land - but it was clear that roughly two inches below the surface soil, there was no color whatsoever. The soil was silvery and dead.

Out of fascination, the assistant drove his shovel into the newly-created hole again, and with a stomp of his foot, shattered the ground beneath like glass. His entire leg and the length of the shovel fell into the hole as he screamed in terror. A Platense sailor grabbed him by reflex and pulled him back up and out, revealing a long and shallow cut in his leg from the sharp, crystalline interior of the hole which had gone straight through his pants, but otherwise the man was okay. The team gathered around the hole he had dug and looked into it, and felt a sense of immediate doom at what awaited them there:

Below a foot of soil, the earth turned to glass. Beneath six inches of glass, there was nothing.

---
​

On the Prophet, the researchers grabbed piles of books and scrutinized them for any mention of Kaptcopf. It was difficult, as they had not yet made full sense of the language and they had to proceed slowly to avoid damaging the ancient pages. After roughly an hour of searching, the team had not discovered any mention, and began to suspect that perhaps Rourke and the team aboard the Terror had mistranslated or misunderstood something in their scroll. After such success at Constellar Isle, the research assistants aboard the Prophet had developed a slight contempt of the Alleghenians under Captain Flint, mainly due to their reckless use of dynamite and the casualties suffered in their exploration. They quickly tired of looking as the night dragged on, as they suspected that whatever Rourke had discovered was not essential to the survival of the expedition and could therefore be looked-into the next morning.

 

[Infab]

It wasn't long before Warren and his men found themselves peering into the hole that the assistant had dug and almost feel through. "...T-This ain't right." said one Alleghenian sailor. Another chimed in with "Where the hell are we? Where's the rest of the ground?" Warren was surprisingly silent, but his expression spoke volumes. His eyes had widened, and eyebrows raised, as if he had seen something utterly horrifying. Riddle, opting to experiment, decided to pick up a rock. He strolled over to the hole, and dropped it through. Was there really nothing beneath them?

 

[K0mori]

The stone fell from Riddle's hand and disappeared into the shadowy opening. With each second that passed, tensions grew. Each marine and officer silently prayed that a sound would follow - some indication that there was solid ground below, but it never came. The rock simply disappeared forever.

 

[EdwardDewey98]

The sailor that managed to save the researcher shouted out loud, while trying to pull the man from the newly formed hole. Dos Santos emerged from one of the destroyed houses, still holding the idol close to her chest. "W-what happened?!" she asked, while everyone gathered around the wounded man. Mancinelli and the sailor gazed down into the hole as they sat there. They never expected to see anything like this. The hole... it was hollow and dark, devoid of any light and it looked like it had no end. Mancinelli pulled back, and looked at the others as the rest began looking into the hole. "H-how is this possible..." asked the first mate, while looking at Dos Santos and Lonstray "...T-that darkness. That's not natural." Dos Santos couldn't look at it for long. She never felt this dread on her life before, even after that encounter with the beast on Martha's Island. "...Like I said before, very few things on these islands are natural... W-what... do we do now?"

 

[Infab]

Warren looked to Dos Santos. "I think we need to leave this island, and soon. This is a bit more than just unnatural." he said. Riddle looked up, a look of concern on his face. "If the others can't find a ley line tower...what, do we just sail in a random direction?" Warren glanced to his Master Chief, and shrugged. "Might be the only thing we can do, but I'd rather not be stuck here when the glass decides it doesn't want us standing on it anymore."

He soon stepped away from the hole, looking to the rest of his sailors. "We should head up and check on Flint and his men. You know how I feel about the Sokrovians at the moment, so I think it best we don't leave our fellow countrymen alone with them for too long." he said, glancing back to Riddle. Riddle nodded, stepping away from the hole himself and tugging the Alleghenian soldiers with him. Warren then looked to Dos Santos and Mancinelli. "...I don't think there's much more here for us to study. Beyond that hole and the idol, of course." he said, motioning to Dos Santos.

Warren had a look of dread on his face the entire time. Where the hell were they? Had one of the gods put them there? Perhaps demons?

 

[K0mori]

"Verdammte Scheiße!" Walkenhorst yelled after watching the rock plunge away into the abyss. He took several steps back from the hole while Dos Santos gave her thoughts and Warren responded. "We need to find out what the others found over that ridge, right now, and then get the hell off this island and back onto the ships. At least the ocean doesn't seem eager to rip open and swallow us just yet... Scheiße..." he repeated. "Everyone, tread lightly."

 

[joshuadim]

"This place is cursed! We shouldn't be 'ere!" one of the Albionian sailors cried out as he looked into what appeared to be the literal abyss in front of the group. The researcher who had hurt himself digging the whole was carried a bit away by two sailors from the hole and sat on the ground to have his wound looked at. Lonstray remarked at the wound for a moment before shrugging: "He'll live. Nothing too severe." he stated before returning his attention to the void. It filled him with a fear of the unknown... yet along with that he couldn't help but feel curious as to what exactly was causing this in the first place. "This defies all understanding of natural laws..." the scientist pondered aloud as he rubbed his chin.

Dobbs in the meantime felt an existential dread looking into the nothingness that was practically beneath them. So little ground separated them and what seemed to be eternal damnation, and so Dobbs shook his head. "I agree with Captain Warren. We should leave, posthaste. I don't want to risk staying here longer than we have to."

Back on the Prophet, a telegram was sent back to Flint at the behest of the researchers remaining on the vessel:

KAPTCOPF UNCLEAR STOP
POSSIBLE MISTRANSLATION STOP​

 

[Emperor Sagan]

Anastasia Kortova considered her options as she surveyed the ridge, with her back turned to the gaping maw of the void. Staying put for long didn't seem a good idea. It was doable in these conditions, but if they worsened, the situation would fare rather poorly. They'd need campfires, and to dig foxholes to settle down in to protect against the wind. That was really all one could do without proper shelter. Going back was by far the best, and in her infinite wisdom, proper decision. Linking back up was the initial plan and she had no desire to alter that for no reason. Hunting for crystals or alternate paths seemed far too risky, not just because of the weather, but the entire place disturbed her greatly. This was a bad island. Either because something bad happened here, or the land itself was bad. It just wasn't right.

As for other things that just weren't right, she was starting to feel a little off herself. She took off her mittens and wiggled her fingers, studying them momentarily, ensuring she wasn't somehow getting frostbite before she pulled them back on. By now, the sensation was reaching her head and she pursed her lips. A migraine? she wondered, though soon her vision was awash with purple, and as her bemusement gave way to a deep worry as the color persisted and the moon seemed visible through the opaque sky, she collapsed to her knees with a groan. The headache was getting worse and she shut her eyes - not wanting to even see the purple haze or impossible moon - though the onset of the rapidly growing pain forced her eyes closed regardless. Something... sharp... pierced at the sides of her head and began to push against her hands. She pulled them away and stared in abject wonder as her mittens were stained with a drizzle of dark liquid, and she could feel something hot racing down the sides of her face and threatening to get in her eyes. The bleeding, as alarming as it was, meant very little as she tried not to panic. Horns were sprouting form her head. Horns. She had fantasized and humored herself with the fairy tale idea of it all, yet had never truly thought it was possible, or was going to happen. So far her physical changes had been relatively minor. And now... it couldn't have happened at a worse time.

Wracked with the strange sensation, eyes squinted in pain as two small streams of blood ran down her pale face, Kortova laughed. It was a light chuckle, clearly held back, as she felt like she was on the verge of hysterics from it all. The pain. The horns. This blasted island. The timing. These damn fool Alleghenians.... She wiped one sleeve across her face to clear away the dribbles of blood so that she could see. Williams had moved in between her and the others, and she could see her sailors squaring up against the Alleghenians, weapons half-raised as a heated conversation broke out. Another strange sensation struck out here and made her wince. Snippets of images and words, not hers, but someone else... was someone talking directly to her? No... no... she was sensing it somehow. Oh, I must be going crazy, she considered, though Ishra seemed capable of knowing what was in her head, so perhaps she was adapting to her patron.

"Gentlemen," Kortova forced herself to say, rising slowly. She had to wipe her sleeve across her face again to dab away the rest of the blood that had trickled out from the horns. They felt weighty and powerful, signifying that they were real, but they also felt like they were light as feathers. Perhaps her body had merely adapted to holding them up with her skull, as if this was entirely natural.

"I can... assure you all that I am as... as alarmed as you all," she said carefully. Williams kept between her and the Alleghenians, side arm out but not directly pointed at anyone. She needed to think fast. "This... this change is a result of side effects... inadvertent exposure from things on the island we searched. Your captain, all the captains, are well briefed on my... my affliction. Just animal traits! Like the woman, Dos Santos, you all are aware, yes? Her furry hands...." She wanted to deflect and remind them of another, and perhaps settle their minds with that simple explanation. Animal traits. Not demonic. No, that would be silly.

"Let us all take a moment to calm down. We have our friends down there," she pointed towards the hole and tower, "who are counting on us keeping it together. We'll wait for them, then head back down the ridge. I'm not hurt... no one here is hurt... we're all very okay."

 

[Radley]

Flint looked up to the menacing ascent that stood before him and his men. With the darkness closing in outside, the only illumination they had was their lanterns. The light radiating from these failed to give any semblance of warmth as the colors had faded from the world around them, and it could not pierce the obsidian veil that stretch upwards above them. He turned to face his men and shone his lantern towards them. He was greeted by an ensemble of pale faces whose visages expressed neither fear nor courage. They were all completely apathetic. Flint felt it too, and was reminded of a similar feeling during their crossing of the meridian. The lack of color and emotions alike were however now much greater. Thinking over the next course of action, Flint glanced up towards the stone staircase. The dread he had felt before was gone, but so was the desire to somehow activate the ley line. It felt as if he just wanted to sit down and fall asleep so that he could escape this antediluvian nightmare.

But, somewhere deep inside him, the primal instinct of survival retained it's spark. It urged him forward even though it required great effort of him. Turning to the men with him, he took out his leather-bound notebook and wrote on one of the pages. Tearing it out, he showed it to his compatriots.

I will activate the ley line.
Clear a space and start a fire.
​

Mandell, Larsson and Yurvetski all read the note with hollow eyes, but even they managed to give half-hearted, yet affirmative nods in reply.
Taking out his pistol, Flint turned to the stairs and began ascending. As he walked he kept his light focused steadily in front of him. It occurred to him that Meinhardt had seen to most of the machinations in the tower on Castle island, and that he remembered only faintly how to activate it himself. And even though he doubted if he could do it, Flint was gravely aware that he had to do it.

---

The Alleghenians had hollered and shouted as Kortova underwent what could only be described as a demonic mutation right before there eyes. Although they had not aimed their weapons, they gripped them tightly and shuffled about uneasily, keeping their fearful focus on Kortova and Williams.
After Kortova attempted to defuse the tense situation by assuring them it was a mutation born of some intruding force she had no control over, a sergeant stepped forward.
He was a tall and slender man, his gaunt and pockmarked face being flanked by modest sideburns. "Horse shit!" he shouted, "Cap'n was right about y'all! You've been messin with something ya aint oughta be messin with."

There was a murmur of agreement from the Alleghenian marines. The sergeant, emboldened by the support of his colleagues, pumped his shotgun while keeping it aimed into the air.
"Now... Sproutin horns aint just somethin that happens. That there lady doctor got them fuzzy hands from touchin that red dice..." He paused for a minute, distracted by the thick tension, before collecting his thoughts and continuing, "So I 'spose y'all don't mind tellin us whats got you them horns. I think the truth oughta put us all at ease."

If the sergeant had uttered his concluding sentence out of loathing or fright was exceedingly difficult to discern, but the coin had already been tossed.
When he finished, the group once again stood in a fretful silence while the wind and snow assailed them on their small island of light in that oppressive, tenebrous night.

 

[Emperor Sagan]

"I touched a skull," Kortova said, thinking quickly. She had no doubt that her men could wipe these fools out, but that put herself, Williams, and the sailors in considerable harms way, and of course, how the absolute hell did such a situation get explained? Oh, whoops, the Alleghenians went mad? No one would believe it. In fact, it almost made her even angrier, because she knew if it were the other way around and the Sokrovians were cut down, no one would care.

"I touched a damned skull," she repeated again. "Our island was a temple, and we found a skeleton buried in a stone casket. I touched the skull because it was strange and had horns. Just brushed my fingers on it without thinking. All my changes have occurred on my head, after all." In truth, she had had visited Ishra's casket after its discovery, but did not actually ever touch it. No one did. The marines who discovered it and had left it open when ordered had been too spooked to do anything other than mess with the lid. "So yes, that is the truth. You get these mutations from touching things. The commodore made it clear how dangerous it was to touch aetherine, and evidently, other things, too." It was a deviation from the official report she and Williams had given, but it was an official deviation. Planned. It was their intention to craft a fall back lie in case the first crumpled, which it had quite immediately from such undue hostility. Touching the skeleton was meant to demonstrate a more believable occurrence at the sacrifice of her own pride. Make them think she was foolish enough to accidentally touch a strange, unearthly skeleton. Such double-lie concoctions were useful. She used them often. Make the second just a little more believable and say it with exasperation, like, oh, you got me, you dog! with a little sad laugh and you were golden.

"Need I remind you soldiers that you are addressing senior officers," Williams said softly, appealing to the military hierarchy that was drilled into all good soldier's heads. "Do not forget your method of address. If you find this to be a concerning situation - it isn't - then it is the place of Captain Flint to discuss. Not you lot. We should focus our efforts on being ready to assist them if they need it."

 

[K0mori]

Captain Flint made up his mind quickly. He was going to be a leader, and climb the tower himself. While the other volunteers made a fire at the bottom, Flint began ascending the spiral. The bricks, while decently-well fitted together, were often misshapen, as if the masons who laid them intended to smooth them after the fact. Moreover, mortar cracked and chipped with each step, baring a load they had not born in thousands of years. Tiny pebbles and what felt like sand rained down from far above, and Flint could swear he felt the tower sway in the wind, but still, he climbed. The stairs narrowed. Wooden creaking echoed from above. Steps wobbled under his weight.

About midway up the stairs, Flint began to notice a deep crack in the wall that seemed to widen the further he ascended. Shards of glass-like crystal jutted in, threatening to block his way. He crawled under one, and with his hands on the stone he sensed just how far away from level the building had become, and real fear of a collapse started to leech into his mind, sapping his will to continue, but he ignored it. As he came out from under the obstruction, he bumped a piece of the wood scaffolding and it slid from the stairs, falling into the black void below. He could hear the echoes of the beam slamming into others, causing a cascade of loose boards which fell all the way to the ground. Miraculously, the volunteers heard these collisions and escaped from harm's way at the last possible moment.

Finally, Flint reached the chamber at the top of the tower. Its vacant window frames were portals to a void much like the hole in the center of the land, but Flint knew he was merely looking into the night sky. In the center of the room, there was no crystal ball, and no stone tablets to establish a ley line, despite a pedestal which was clearly designed for one. There was, however, an old bronze instrument in the corner with a faded aetherine glass stone. Its multiple moving parts reminded Flint of an astrolabe. Having nothing else to do in the precarious chamber, he took up the object and, finding it inert, began his descent so he could put it in the hands of researchers.

The way down was just as dangerous as the way up, but the Captain soon spotted the glow of the fire the volunteers had started and knew that he would ultimately survive.

They needed to leave this place before it crumbled and fell completely.

---​

With the captains in general agreement, Walkenhorst left a scribbled note about returning to camp staked into the snow before the team at the ruinous village beat a hasty retreat back up the roadway, trying to avoid running into danger again. Rather than walking back up the hill and then climbing down the ridge, they decided to pass through the natural hollow in the stone to the beach, that way they could trace their way around to the north side of the island on level ground. Even this proved to be an ordeal, as blizzard-like conditions pelted them with ice and snow, and wind that forced even the hardiest soldiers to stumble in the dark. They finally unfurled a rope out of desperation, so that the whole team could hold on and walk in a line along the water's edge. At last, they found Detlev's camp and its struggling fire, and the researcher himself inside a tent reading over the logs from previous expeditions which had lost their way.

"Well, what did you find up there?" Detlev asked reluctantly, as Walkenhorst's grim, pale face told him half the tale already.

The Captain stuttered his answer. "There was a... a road up there, a quarry road. Our team split up, half heading downhill and the rest going up to see where the stone might have been taken. W-we found the remains of a village, but they were long gone. But, you have to believe us, we tried, the Albionians tried, to take a soil sample, and, well..."

"...What did you find?" Detlev repeated, now enthralled.

"The ground is hollow," Walkenhorst said. "About a foot and a half down, under the snow and the dirt, it turns to a glass-like substance and then there's nothing beneath it."

Detlev cocked his head. "Like a cave?"

"No! I mean there's nothing, as in a void. We dropped a stone into it and it fell away without a sound. Whether or not it was bottomless, it was obvious that anything that fell into the opening would be lost forever, including a man!"

The Lieutenant blinked. "Would... Would you say that the whole island is like this? Or just the area you dug your hole?"

Walkenhorst seemed almost offended by the question. "How about we find out?" he said, and trotted out of the tent over to the edge of the camp. "Everyone, be ready to get into your skiffs," he warned as he took out the grenade the Alleghenians had given him. "I need to demonstrate to the doctor what we observed down in that village."

 

[Infab]

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" said Warren, looking to Walkenhorst as he approached with the grenade. "You saw what a man with a shovel did. If you set off that grenade, you could potentially take out most of the island. There's only six inches of glass between us and oblivion." Riddle nodded. "A foot of dirt and six inches of glass back at the ruins. More or less here probably." The Alleghenian sailors looked nervous. The idea of walking on little dirt and glass wasn't exactly the best thing to think about. Warren glanced up to where the others had ventured. "We should wait for the others to return before we attempt that kind of experiment. You could potentially kill both the other Alleghenian team as well as the Sokrovians with one grenade blast way down here."

 

[Radley]

Flint arrived at the bottom of the stair, meeting the gaze of the soldier as they sat around the fire. With their eyes, they seemed to ask if Flint had been able to activate the ley line. He solemnly shook his head, and the heart of the men seemed to sink further into colorless despair. Flint took out the notebook and wrote another note.

I have found something that will get us of this island.
We need to leave right now, the tower could collapse at any minute.
​

The sailors looked between each other and nodded. Flint did not mention the fact that, while he knew what the bronze astrolabe was, he did not know how to use this ancient tool. For the time being, it was paramount to keep their hopes up, even if it meant deceiving them with a white lie. As they re-lit their lanterns and formed up at the entrance, Yurvetski volunteered to take point. Fishing out a considerable length of rope, he signaled to the others to tie it around their waists. The heavy snowfall, coupled with the darkness made their coming trek more dangerous than their descent into the valley.

Steeling their courage, they exited into the black night. The tracks they had left when coming was still slightly visible, but they would have to move fast if they wanted to retrace them. Flint only hoped the rest of the group had not left their position on top of the ridge.

---

Kortovas explanation put the Alleghenians at ease, at least slightly. They did not have a hard time that this supposed klutz of a captain could have so carelessly touched a skull that resulted in similar mutations to when Dos Santos had touched the aetherine cube. Her strange behavior could also be attributed to shock, rather than indifference.
"I... I apologize for my confrontational statements... Captain." the sergeant said to Kortova with a somewhat apologetic nod before turning to Williams. "Sorry, sir. I guess we're all a bit high-strung at the moment. I hope you can understand, sir."
As he finished his apologies, one of the marines stepped forward, "Sergeant Elleway, what do we do now?"
Elleway once again looked to the Sokrovians, "Should we stay put or go look for the rest of our party Ma'am?"

 

[Emperor Sagan]

"It is quite alright, sergeant," Lieutenant Williams nodded. "The circumstances are certainly strange enough." He breathed a sigh of relief as he put his pistol away and gestured for the other marines to ease up. As tense as things had been, it was only for a mere moment, and now it was resolved. For now. Once the others returned there was no telling what would happen, and after that they'd be joining back up with the main group. Then things would truly get interesting, and not in a way he felt would be good.

Kortova was tentatively touching her new horns with one hand, feeling them out in silent wonder. They're actually real. I can't... I can't believe it. Slowly, she turned back around to look over the others. "We... should be staying put, for now," she said, having to raise her voice a little over the wind. "We wait for Flint before we leave." She took out her pocket watch and eyed it, the glass a little frosted. "I think it took them maybe fifteen minutes to get there, we'll give them twenty. No more than thirty before we fire a flare and leave back down the ridge to meet with the other main group."

 

[EdwardDewey98]

When Walkenhorst implied he was going to do a little experiment, Dos Santos didn't think much of it. Until she realized he was holding a grenade. She rushed towards the captain, waving her arms and shouting in Alemannian. "Kapitän Walkenhorst! Halt, tu das nicht!" She even placed a hand on his chest to stop him in his tracks. "[What are you thinking?! Didn't you see the ground around the hole?! It had a crystalline appearance! One explosion, and you might shatter millions of years of geological sedimentation! While we are still standing on it, might I add!]" Mancinelli and the Platense sailors looked at each other before looking at the ground beneath them. A small feeling of concern took over Macinelli. He had the same idea as Walkenhorst while they were at the hole.

 

[K0mori]

Walkenhorst ignored Warren and brushed Dos Santos off of himself as he put his finger through the pin of the grenade, causing a chorus of alarmed shouts to ring through the camp. He froze, turning back to face Detlev with a sarcastic sneer on his lips. "Does that answer your question, Mr. Detlev? Next time, trust me when I tell you we have reason to be concerned." He placed the grenade back on his belt as everyone breathed a collective sigh of relief.

"I- I did trust you, I just-" Detlev stammered out, but closed his mouth when the Captain's half-smirk disappeared and was replaced by a deathly serious gaze. "Okay, okay. So, this island is extremely dangerous. I accept that, Captain. But the question remains: how do we escape? We need to make contact with the ones who went over that ridge... Captains Flint and Kortova, I presume?" he asked as he looked around and took stock of which leaders were present.

Walkenhorst nodded. "They should be back soon."

---
​

As time continued to tick away at the top of the ridge, Kortova and the marines were nearly out of patience when the Grand Captain spotted their lanterns through the heavy snowfall, as only she could; her eyes could pierce darkness now unlike any human. She remained silent, however, until the others began to notice the same, in order to remain in a low profile. Flint and the volunteers had marched nearly to the point of exhaustion to reach the top of the ridge in time, but once there, they were brought back to alertness instantly by the revelation of Kortova's new mutation.