From afar, Darel observes the runes on the door, although it is difficult for him to actually pinpoint their actual function. He does figure out, however, that they are not simple decoration and are actually an artifact of some nature. Beyond that, however, a cursory observation does not reveal much else.

As the creature goes towards the door, it's attention is successfully gained by Treon, and it stares at the man carefully while trying to decipher the meaning of his request. As it seems to understand, it looks rather scared for a moment; outside of the water, the strange being looks all the more vulnerable, even with the appendages that would make it a much more formidable combatant in water. The beast seems uncertain for a moment, and then, after a long pause, nods in Treon's direction before laying the body of Indrid down carefully, and slithering towards the door.

From there, it starts to touch some of the runes in turn, causing them to light up as its appendage brushes them.

Darel was attentive to the smallest change in outside conditions - a rise in the level of water, a trap set by the pelagial... He clutched his sword's grip, ready for an ambush.

Treon kneels by the alchemist, ready to cover him with his body should the pelagial play them false at this juncture.  As Treon kneels though, he checks him over for obvious wounds and to find out if he was still breathing.  Once he has made his checks, he rises once more, studying the gestures the pelagial is making.  He shoots another curious glance at Darel, but guesses from his lack of response that the man either knows what is happening and there is nothing to worry about, or he has no clue.

Treon cannot find anything wrong with Indrid, other than the fact that he seems to be in a deep, possibly artificially induced sleep. His heart and breathing seem regular however, and he has no other signs of wounds or other bad treatment.

Under scrutiny of the group, the creature continues to fiddle with the runes, carefully tracing a pattern with them and seemingly taking great pains to respect a particular order in his manipulations. The 'code' seems rather complex, and for a moment, the creature seems completely absorbed in its input. It takes close to a minute for the strange being to be able to do so - and even then, no immediate results seem to surface.

The monster slithers backwards slightly, and for a moment, the wait is rather tense. After a few seconds, however, Darel manages to catch movement on the side of the door - a mechanism that seems to weigh down and move towards the floor. A loud clang resounds within the care, causing Darel to momentarily think that something bad is about to happen... But a moment passes, and it becomes apparent that the only thing that seemed to have activated is the door's opening mechanism.

The heavy portal comes open, the runes flaring one more time before fading, and a cool breeze envelops the small cave as the doorway ahead is revealed. The next room seems to be cast in complete darkness, and sounds of shuffling as well as the nervous clanging of metal on stone can be heard. The creature seems unwilling to go any further, instead bowing its head and stepping away from the door.

From within, a voice raises. It seems weakened and parched, but has not lost its spark, despite the hardships that seemingly wreaked havoc on it. "Who goes there?" The voice utters, in perfect Seatongue. "My response has not changed in mere hours. Unless you desire to satiate your cruelty, I would rather you not bother."

Treon moves warily over to the door, making a thankful nod to the pelagial. The Warm Caress  is in his hand as he peers inside.  "Cynis Megara?", he enquires in his realm-accented Seatongue.

"I am Traon Fireblade.  We are here to rescue you and who is left of your crew."

As he speaks, he studies the manner in which she is restrained, and tries to judge her physical state.

Pausing in the doorway of the cell, just in case, Hera calls out, "Even if you aren't Cynis Megara, call out. Speak up. As he said, you will be safe, you are going home."

Darel ordered his eristrufa to light the cell mildly and progressively, so as not to hurt its occupants' darkness-accustomed eyes - he did not care about a Cynis' comfort, but he thought that Treon would resent him antagonizing the woman they had been sent to rescue at their first meeting -, and kept an eye on the pelagial. The creature would have to accompany them when they were going back. He had no particular desire to slay it, but if he had the choice between risking that the creature gave the alarm and executing it on the spot, he would have no compunction about doing the latter.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:29, Fri 26 June 2009.

At the inquiries placed towards the room, several hushed whispers seem to raise, accompanied by the clatter of chains and movements in the darkness. Once Darel orders its demon to illuminate the room, it does so obediently, revealing to the group what lies within...

Several prisoners, perhaps upwards of twenty, are shackled with mismatched chains bearing strange inscriptions. most of them look like sailors or soldiers, and more than half seem to have been wounded - although most of the wounds seem treated and stabilized, they are not yet healed, and one can catch the sight of blood-soaked bandages here and there. The prisoners do shield their eyes as light floods their dark cell, struggling to catch sight of who might be coming to them with words of freedom and rescue.

Among the raising chatter, a voice raises, the same who spoke previously. Its owner is a woman of regal bearing, sitting straight with her arms chained behind her back and a heavy steel collar around her neck. Despite looking dirty and rather disheveled, she seems to carry herself with more grace and poise than most of the prisoners accompanying her. "... How would you know my name?" The woman asks when Treon speaks of it, her eyes scanning the assembled people within the doorway. "... No, you would not be one of them. You all still look human." She mutters, almost distractedly, as she tilts her head curiously.

The woman straightens in her bonds, stretching her neck to try to peer behind the group, the pace of her speech quickening now as she fires a salvo of rapid questions. "What are you people doing here? Who let you know how to find us? Are you savants as well? How did you manage to reach this room?" Megara squints, seemingly catching sight of something behind the group.

"Were you led here? Did Louis show you the way to our cell?"

Darel raised an eyebrow, glancing behind his shoulder in the direction Megara had looked. He would let Treon do the introductions.

"One of them?" Treon questioned as he stepped into the cell, then shook his head to suggest that answers to such a question could wait until later.  "But anyway, as I said, I am Treon Fireblade.  These are my companions, Darel Arwen" he indicates the man.  "Hera," he indicates the blonde woman.  "And Tomistoma," he indicates out of the room.

"As for what we're doing here, we came to find out what had happened to you and your expedition.  We have a savant amongst us and we found our way to the maze above, though we were led through by one of the pelegials we came across.  I'm afraid I don't know who Louis is."

As he spoke, he looked around the room, wondering how they were ever going to get this many injured sailors through the labyrinth, no doubt with pursuit hot on their tails.

"There was a tribe of people on a local island that was worried for your safety. We came here at their request. I am glad we found you well enough."

"I am infinitely glad to see you, Treon Fireblade, Darel Arwan, Hera and Tomistoma." Megara speaks the names carefully, as if to commit them to memory. Her face looks weary and pale, but she shows deep relief and gratitude as she sees the group. The sailors and soldiers look genuinely relieved as well, although fatigue, wounds and likely lack of proper food takes their toll on their reactions. Hushed murmurs and words of thanks are heard across the room, but otherwise, the men and women remain politely quiet while their leader speaks. Despite the hardships, they seem willing to wait a short while longer to know what will befall them.

"Yes, one of them. The Pelagials send some of their representatives at regular intervals because they are trying to find something I know. No matter what my homeland thinks are proper ways to deal with them, I will not give them the information they need. This would be foolish and unwise. Which is why they came here constantly in order to see whether or not they could change my mind by threatening me and my men and inflicting corporeal punishments on us. They've come... I think a few hours ago, so I was surprised that they would come back so soon. They might still surprise us, however, so I'd suggest you to be careful."

Megara nods at Hera's words, and a faint smile traces her lips. "Figured that it would be the case. When I go and disappear, the first worried are the tribesmen and not my own people. Well, there is nothing that can be done about that." She says, shaking her head slightly. "Again, I'm infinitely grateful for your assistance and your coming here. I do not even know you and you have risked life and limb to come to this place... I shall not forget this, no matter what the outcome of this day is."

With that, the woman turns her attention back to Treon, and nods to his last statement. Somewhere down the line, however, her lips purse, and she cradles her neck to gaze at the creature that led them to the cell. The monstrous being stands there uncomfortably, outside of the room, its head bowed and its shoulders drooping, although it does emit some sort of trill at Megara's look. She smiles at it, and the creature responds with another trilling sound and a bow of its head.

"That would be Louis." She says, indicating the creature with a nod of her chin. "The Pelagials did not give him a name, and he is incapable of telling me what his name used to be. So I gave him the name 'Louis'. I asked if he minded, and he replied by the negative."

"There is one incorrect fact in your statement, however. Louis is not one of the Pelagials - he is only one of their slaves. The Pelagials themselves are loathe to use their already small numbers to act as frontline guards to their fortresses, so they... alter slaves for that very purpose."

"That's right... Louis, along with every living creature that roam the Labyrinth area, used to be human, and looked just like you and I."

Darel turned to examine the creature. "Mmmh, that is interesting - in a horrifying way, of course," he said, dissecting Louis with his eyes. "What method did they use? Directed Wyld exposure, sympathetic Essence induction?"

He shook his head. "Forgive me, now is not the time for conundrum solving. How did the pelagials move so many people in the water-filled tunnels?"

Treon was stunned, to say the least.  The thought of so many people corrupted, and in such a way.  For defence?  He shakes his head, as he listens for an answer for Darel's question.

This is a lot of people to move in any case, and many are injured ... he considers as he waits.  And once we get up there, they will be pushing the capacity of the Hammerhead ...

"Concentrated Wyld exposure is the correct method, yes. I did not have time to investigate the matter much, but that is what I have concluded from my observations. They likely start with gills, and then add more... features." Megara herself looks deeply saddened and disturbed as she says these words, and glances at her own crew.

"They immediately engineer the vocal chords out, it seems. That is, I believe, so the slaves cannot communicate with outsiders or explain their nature to them. The Pelagials are a paranoid lot - they would not tolerate seeds of mutiny among their ranks. There are wards all around as well, to keep the slaves from stepping where they are not supposed to. Louis here, for example, can operate this door's mechanism, in case he is to toss in more prisoners. He cannot step into the cell proper, however. I am uncertain of the effects it would have if he were to cross the ward - perhaps it would merely stop him, or perhaps it would do something much more... drastic." Once again, Megara seems troubled at this thought.

"As for moving... They do not move people through the labyrinth. There is another road, a direct one, that is operated through an ancient Essence console of some sort. The Pelagials use it to move big amounts of slaves or cargo, as it would be impractical to do so through the Labyrinth. I have witnessed it once, when we were captured. It opens from the cargo area at the entrance of the Chasm, and leads below... To the Pelagials' city proper."

When I first heard of them they sounded like thoroughly noxious creatures, but I did not imagine them to be this bad...

"That is ... horrific," Treon says, the normally quite eloquent man robbed of his words as he tried to find those appropriate for the situation.  He shakes his head.  "I will not allow you," he gestures to the whole room. "Any of you to undergo that fate."

He moves over to Cynis Megara.  "These sigils ... do you know what will happen if I break the chains?" he enquires.  IF she indicates in the negative, or in the uncertain, he starts to cut at her bindings with the Warm Caress, drawing the collection of strands that make up the blade over the manacles.

"This other way.  How do you get from where we are now to the lower entrance?"

Darel tried to recognize the sigils- was it a peculiar form of warding, or a more sophisticated method for containing a subdued Essence user?

[Private to GM: [OOC:23:02, Today: Darel Arwan rolled 5 successes using 6d10 with the White Wolf Exalted system with a target of 7 with rolls of 6,8,8,5,8,10. Int+Lore.
23:02, Today: Darel Arwan rolled 4 successes using 6d10 with the White Wolf Exalted system with a target of 7 with rolls of 8,3,7,6,8,9. Int+Occult.]]
This message was last edited by the player at 21:09, Sat 04 July 2009.

"I... believe this to simply be Essence-dampening chains, or something of the like. I know I have no access to my usual tricks when wearing them." Darel, through his observations, can immediately confirm this much: the lines of essence within the chains serve to control and dampen the flows contained within an individual, by redirecting any Essence expenditure through the chains themselves. Darel cannot detect any warding patterns or any other functions otherwise, leading him to believe that Essence control is the only real function of the shackles.

"The way to the city is close to here. There are a few more corridors to go through, but Louis knows the way." She gazes towards the opening in the door then, and nods silently. As Treon frees one of her hands, however, she grasps the man's wrist firmly, her eyes taking on a strange intensity as she does so. "Though I am afraid there is something that must be done, before we all can escape. The Librum of Adamant Artifice... I have uncovered it. Or at least, part of it. The most powerful sections of the book have been ripped out. But still! This is a very powerful tome. If the Pelagials manage to decipher it, and can harness its contents..." She shakes her head at the thought, frowning deeply.

"We must recover it before we escape, lest this whole expedition will have served only to give the Pelagials the means to become a far more threatening nation than they are now. And I would not be able to live with that."

"If that is the case, let me break the chains and we can begin back to the surface. I tire of this place and whatever these energies that grow monsters from men."

She makes her way to the nearest set of chains. She carefully looks along the chain, feeling for the weakest point. She cements her grip, grasping as if her flesh and bone was composed of metal. Her muscles become taut and she pulls the chain apart with all of her force. Should this not be enough, she begins to tap into the strength given to her by Nan.

[Private to Raconteur: Strength and Athletics pool of 10 + stunt (if any) to break the nearest chain. Should this not be enough, she'll use Increasing Strength Exercise to bump the pool to 13 + Stunt. Should this still not be enough, she'll spend the WP to roll willpower to add to the pool]

"Given what you have told me of them, that sounds terrible in the extreme," Treon agrees.  "It seems they are capable of quite enough horrors without it's aid."

And with that, he raises his strange daiklaive, seeming almost to stroke the chains holding Megara with the strands of the blade.  Despite his seeming gentleness, the chains break easily enough, falling from her arms to land with a clink on the cave floor.  After she was freed, Treon moved onto the others in the cave, dealing with their restraints in much the same way.

"Who amongst can move unaided, and who needs help?" Treon asks of the assorted prisoners, trying to assess their status

Turning his gaze towards the surface, Darel summoned the powers of the wind, calling upon them to drift towards the Hammerhead, and Thetia.

"Darel here, objective one secured, twenty refugees to be evacuated, we must still secure the Libram, Indrid is wounded. Prepare for battle, diplomatic resolution compromised."

[OOC: Spending two motes on Winds-Carried Words Technique, for precisely twenty five words.]

Treon manages to cut Megara's chains, while Hera is hard at work breaking some of the nearby prisoners' - so far, she has seized and shattered three pair of manacles, moving on to the next one while the group continues to talk.

As this goes on, Darel composes his message to send to the ship, and lets it go free with the release of a small portion of Essence. It takes a moment for the missive to reach upwards, but after a few seconds, Darel can feel that his missive has safely reached Tethia on the Hammerhead.

At Treon's question, many grunts and mumbled answers are heard, until an older sailor - likely of Southern origin, given his skin tone and accent - speaks up for the group. "Many of us are either injured or weakened, chosen." The man says, although he himself sits straight and proud despite his chains, bearing pain and imprisonment with dignity. "If you it is an operation to steal this Librum you stage, then the lot of us will only slow you down. It will be difficult for you to try to lift this artifact with several people in tow, many of them wounded."

"You have to consider the possibility that the best course of action might be to leave us behind, and do what it is you must."

"I object to that." Megara says, authoritatively, as she rubs her wrists from where Treon sundered her chains. She gives a polite smile and nod in thanks to the man who liberated her, although her expression swiftly changes to a mask of deep concern.

"I cannot allow this, Ussan." Megara says again, shaking her head. She then turns to Treon and the others, trying futilely to make less of a mess of her hair while she speaks. "Ussan and many of my crew were slaves back in my homeland. I have promised them freedom when they were given to me by my house - and I will not allow this promise to die out in the dank cell of a dirty Pelagial dwelling while I am allowed to roam the surface."

"If I have to help you get the Librum so you can take it to the surface only to be returned here with my men, then so be it. But I will not leave them behind, no matter what you decide."

[Private to Cathak Garel Treon: There's 21 sailors total, excluding Megara. Out of this number, 13 have sustained wounds of various severities that will likely impede their movements and performance. 3 have minor wounds that would either not impede them, or impede them in a minor way. The remaining 5 seem to be in good condition, with tiredness and bad nutrition being their main ailment.]
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:53, Fri 10 July 2009.

"I don't intend to leave anyone behind to share a fate like Louis outside, no matter how injured or weakened they are," Treon states, as he continues to slice chains with the Warm Caress.  As he does so, he thinks, considering their best plan.  When he has reached a conclusion, he speaks once more.

"We will all of us go to the location of the transportation mechanism.  We have to go there first anyway, for I do not fancy our chances of getting away if our route of retreat is not secure.  Those of you who can still fight will remain down there, to hold this end of the device.  The injured and the weakened will go to my ship, the Hammerhead."

"Once we are joined by a few members of my crew, we," he says with a gesture that encompasses all the Exalts, Hera and Tomistoma, "will then go and find the Librum and get out of here."

He glances back to the poor mishapen form of Louis, and to the injured, abused men.  "Hesiesh help any of the pelagials which try to stop us."

"Any questions or objections?"

Darel thought to object for a second. He had all too easily been carried away by the 'rescue' part of the mission, but he had to remember that too much was at stake, far beyond the safety of a score Realm sailors... But he guessed that his companions would be somewhat insensitive to his arguments.

"Can you give me a description of the site where the transportation device leads, so that Thetia and Black Reed know what to expect?"

"This... seems like it could work, Mister Fireblade." Megara says, her expression settling into something akin to a mask of grim, focused determination. She nods, then looks at the faces around her. "I... do not like to have to involve you, your crew and your comrades. I have to apologize for even having you here, but I also have to be realistic, and admit fully that I do not foresee any other solutions." The disheveled Dynast nods once more, lowering her gaze. "Again... Thank you. All of you. I do not know what we would have done if..." She trails off, as if to chase away any traces of perceived or real weakness. When she speaks again, her words are posed, resolute.

"Mister Arwan, the transportation device leads to a well-concealed opening in the upper storage room. You should have passed it on your way here - a vast room near the entrance to the chasm, filled with gutted ships and other trinkets. I do believe our ships lie there now." Her expression darkens at that, but she does not let the memory hinder her explanation. "The pelagials use the device to move cargo and people between here and the storage area. This way, they can move people or important items without going through the labyrinth. For other, less important items, they simply rely on slaves like Louis, and make them go all the way through the maze."

"If we secure that entrance like Mister Fireblade suggested, we can move upwards quickly and easily, so I do believe it has a good chance of success." She turns towards her men then, regarding them gravely. "Do you understand, men? I cannot ask much more of you, but for those still able to fight, I would like to ask one more thing. Please, do your best to help with Mister Fireblade's plan - if not for yourselves, then for your wounded brethren. I know I am asking a lot, but I would not do so if I did not have faith in you, and if I did not think this was necessary. Will you do this, one last time?"

At her words, the sailors and soldiers still in fighting shape let out a collective sound of affirmation, their expression stern and resolute. Megara inclines her head gratefully at the response, then turns back towards the Exalts with a focused expression on her features. "We shall follow your instructions then, Mister Fireblade."