Ari ♫ ♪ ♬ (gracenotes) wrote in emillion, |
Ari was no machinist, a fact she found almost unfortunate as they made their way through dark, dusty halls. She had already gotten them past one lock (It just needed to be pushed properly, she’d said; whether or not they’d believed her didn’t really matter at this point, and the clients would thank her for it), but the traps were a bit trickier. She pointed them out when she recognized them -- years of running around with Wil before his departure had given her that much knowledge, at least -- but they’d managed to set off half again as many anyway. It was fortunate that the majority of these were more nuisance than deadly, though it was always galling to have to heal wounds granted by an old building. “I think we’re getting close to something,” she commented. She had put herself immediately behind Riv -- as far out of harm’s way as she could manage -- but beyond him, at the turn of the hallway, she could see a faint green glow. Wolfe trailed even further behind Ari, taking up the tail of their group while the fighter took point. The purpose of a mage was to keep his distance, after all, and so he’d kept that instinctive thread stretched between him, Ari, and Rivalen like a measured yardstick. Nothing they’d seen yet had seemed like the tomb of a priest: the buried temple was all crumbling rock and rubble, stepping their way over shattered stone and what was once pillars, doorways leaning in on themselves. But then they finally turned the corner and saw a glow illuminating the hallway: it was an enormous magicite crystal, standing rigid by the wall and gleaming greenly. “Thank Faram,” Wolfe said, relief flickering. He adjusted his gloves, stripping one from his wrist. His reserves of magic had been depleted by the last nest of steelings and could do with a top-up. “I can’t even remember the last time I ran into a life crystal.” Sure-footed, the Samurai stepped forward along the ruins of what was once something great (it is in the carvings and the curves - Rivalen can tell). Holding a torch, balancing it carefully, a steady source of light and a beacon to everything else residing here. Unwelcome or not. Surroundings were kept in check by habit, he can never not be careful and after his stint with the ditch (his pride is cringing) Rivalen checks and double checks each step. Ari behind him and Wolfe further back, all aligned in perfect order (chess, he thinks, the peons go first. He doesn’t like this thought). Softly treading among the newly found green-light, that led inevitably to its source. The crystal was given a brief look over but Rivalen followed Wolfe’s steps. The ‘oooh shiny’ factor was too hard to ignore. Rivalen moved to pass Ari the lantern, impatiently following the example set by the mage. "I've only ever seen one before," Ari said, her voice a bit awed despite her best effort. That had been years ago; she recalled that it had been blue, and very beautiful. Apparently, they came in a variety of colors. She lagged behind the men, juggling instrument and lantern, which was, as it turned out, her salvation; as skin met glowing magicite, there was an explosion of magic, and she found herself thrown backward, landing painfully on her tailbone (but not ever her hands; she knew better than to risk them here, wrapping arms around her instrument instead). How ignorant you are, rumbled an amused voice at the back of her mind. If you can't say something useful, she suggested, scrambling back to her feet, shut up. |