witchesreign | SeeD field exam

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SeeD field exam

Incongruous architecture and reports of suspicious noise around ruins recently unearthed on a Trabia farm have led the local town council to suspect off-world involvement. SeeD has been hired to provide a thorough safety assessment of the site, with an eye for potential future development.

[The town council, who hired SeeD for this mission, have supplied a check list for Namur and Maria to refer to, things like monsters, structural integrity, and other hazards. Amid whining about the overnight appearance of these ruins "DEVASTATING!!" his potato crop and some sideeying of Namur, the farmer with sudden ancient ruins on his farm has shown them to the entrance, handed them flashlights, and gone back to his work.

[The entrance is actually a small cave, half-sunken into the ground; Trabian excavators have dug up enough of the earth around it to get inside. It's dark and dusty inside, but well away from the entrance, one can start to make out what may have once been a city (note: visual guide for architectural style and atmosphere only, not layout) in the stone, about ten metres down: Crumbling walls of a blue stone not found in Trabia, ornate stone doors in the most solid-looking wall with a sign carved nearby, worn pavement in that same blue stone, the ends of clay pipes sticking out of the ground, large boulders dotted around the area.

[There happens to be a ladder down to this level, though one that's seen better days.]

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[He flinches when Namur kicks what's left of the coffin, and again when he's patted on the head. It's hard for him to avert his eyes with a huge slab of fishman taking up most of his field of vision, but he makes a valiant attempt.]

SeeD? All the way from Balamb? My word. Though I suppose that's only to be expected. [He offers Maria a weak smile.] Well, heaven forbid I interrupt your good work, my dear, but... I ought to confess, after those fiends chased me up here, I'm not entirely certain I could find the way out... [Subtext: halp.]

[So he's native, or has been here long enough to be familiar with SeeD. But he's still not answering Namur's questions.]

If y' ever get 'round t' tellin' us what damn fiends yer talkin' 'bout, we might be able t' do somethin' 'bout 'em.

[He jumps when Namur speaks again.] Oh, er, well... I thought you might have encountered them already. I'm afraid monsters aren't particularly my field. These rather rodent-looking beasts on two legs, about this high... [He gestures.] Perhaps "chase" might have been something of an exaggeration. To be honest, I only really saw them from a distance.

[But then, fairly quickly (although he still doesn't want to look the scary shark man in the eye), he brightens up a little.] It's actually rather interesting! Of course, as I say, I can't claim to be an expert, but... ah, give me a second.

[Rummaging through the large satchel that was previously snugly nestled into the coffin right next to him, he pulls out a small, dusty, roughly-hewn spearhead that looks a lot like it might have snapped off one of the little polearms the Rat Soldiers from earlier were carrying...]

Do you see this? Quite a marvellous little thing. Now, the lack of wear suggests to me that it was made not long ago, but - here's the kicker - the stone clearly doesn't precisely match the geological records we have of this region. In fact, I unfortunately don't remember off-hand, but I'd go so far as to guess that the material originates from somewhere other than Trabia.

[He pauses for effect.]

Isn't that extraordinary? Either the entire pack of them must have crossed the mountains and come here in the very recent past, or the stone itself must have been transported over distances on that sort of scale. Most unprecedented, as far as I know! [His eyes are practically shining...] Would that it were feasible to map out these caverns in their entirety, I say... And as for the way it seems they've adapted to the pre-existing buildings -

[But his enthusiastic monologue is cut off when his other hand, the one he was propping himself up with against the unbitten edge of the coffin, slips. The spearhead drops too, clinking on the cold stone floor.] Ahh! [It takes him a second to woozily sit back up, groaning a little.] Oh, I beg your pardon.

Sheheh, cute little bastards, ain't they?

[Namur's smile is a little less pointedly toothy.]

Looks like y' ain't feelin' too hot, huh? Jus' got a few more questions then I'll let Maria look y' over. Might be kind a weird questions though. Think y' can stay with me that long?

Yes... Yes, of course. I'm terribly sorry. Perhaps it's just the air. [The impromptu lecture does appear to have cheered him up a bit, though.] But, yes, naturally, if there's anything else I can help with...?

What day was it when y' came in here? Month, day, year, all that.

Year? I'm afraid I don't quite follow... [Now he looks a little concerned for Namur.] It's still the [today's date], isn't it? And it must still be [current year]. As much as I'd have liked to begin a proper, thorough excavation today... after all, I - [He stops rather abruptly.] Er, but that isn't what you're asking about, I gather.

Naw, go on, man. Say what y' were goin' t' say.

I, er - I'm not at all equipped for one. As you can see. [He pats his well-worn satchel affectionately.] Quite embarrassing, really - I've always tried to drill the importance of preparation into my students, you know...

[Yep, totally what he was going to say.]

Sheheh, I feel y'. Done a bit a teachin' myself. Smolts, right? Don't listen for shit.

[Namur breathes in through his mouth, tasting the chemicals being emitted by the other man, and lets it out like a sigh. He stares at Liar McShadypants for a few seconds, sizing him up. Namur still isn't convinced the man isn't working for Sol Invictus or some other faction. But he lets it go for now.]

A'ight so next round a weirdass questions. How come yer down here by yerself? An' ol' Farmer Whatshisface up top didn't say nothin' 'bout other people bein' in here t' look out for. Y' didn't sneak in, did y'? [He winks.]

[The renewed panic on the good doctor's face says more than words ever could.] Erm, not as such...

[He laughs.] Not as such? Come on man, it's killin' me. Got t' tell me the story now.

[He looks hunted.] Well... I certainly wasn't going to launch a full-scale investigation without going through the proper channels! Certainly not! No, just a quick gander, in and out, that was all! Academic curiosity, surely you must understand -

[Before he can make any more excuses for himself, the floor beneath their feet rumbles with a bestial roar more felt than heard.

Davies flinches as it passes, even though no fragments of the debris it dislodged from the floor above appear to have physically hit him.] Oh... oh, dear Hyne, again...

[Namur's head snaps to the direction the roar came from as it passes. In the uneasy quiet afterward, he he stares at Davies, then makes his decision.]

Smellin' fishier'n me, Davey-boy. Lot y' ain't tellin' us. Figure it out later, though.

[He takes the man's precious satchel in one hand, and a fistful of the man's shirt in the other, hefting both out of the coffin with little effort.]

Maria, get 'im good 'nuff t' stay on his feet an' check 'im for knives an' shit. Take 'im with us, for now.

[Namur slings the satchel over his shoulder. If Davies wants to run away he'll have to abandon it and whatever little treasures he has tucked inside.]

[Maria nods. She's been content to let this entire thing play out as Namur wants it to, reserving all judgment and keeping to quiet military discipline. Now she steps forward.]

I'm just going to do a quick check of your vital signs, consciousness, and state to make sure there's no difficulty from your entrapment there... no signs of oxygen deprivation or wounds you might not have realize.

[And in the process she'll be checking him for weapons as ordered. She just won't advertise the fact.]

[On being lifted out of the coffin and onto the floor, Davies immediately stumbles - but he manages to catch himself, and in response to Maria just nods quietly, only too glad to go along with the heavily armed SeeDs instead of having to stare them down.

Apart from his obvious wooziness and a couple of large bruises on his head and arms, he doesn't appear to be badly injured, and the most lethal object he happens to have on him is a battered old flashlight in one of the pockets of his chinos.

Once or twice he cranes his neck curiously to try and sneak a surreptitious glance at the coffin, though.]

[Namur moves down the hallway, heading towards what felt like the source of the roar, then comes back in time to catch one of Davies' glances.]

Drop somethin' in there?

[And he'll check inside, running his hand along the corners and over the bottom in case there's something he missed visually.]

[He shakes his head.] No, no. As I've said, I didn't bring much with me when I came down here, after all. But I didn't get a terribly good look at it before I tripped over it, and - well, the material, the level of workmanship [apart from all the splinters]... It's rather at odds with the architecture of the rest of this place, wouldn't you say? If I had the equipment, I should like to take back a sample, at least...

[His voice is slipping into that lecturing tone again...]

[Namur shrugs and bites out a good section, his teeth shearing through cloth and wood, leaving an almost smooth indentation. He fights the natural impulse to swallow, and pulls the "sample" out of his mouth, tossing it to Davies offhand.]

Don't say I never gave y' nothin'.

[He looks to Maria, picking a few stray bits of wood from between rows of teeth.]

Good t' go?

[That pushes it just one step too far for what has so far been truly awe-inspiring restraint.]

Namur, for the holidays I'm buying you a pocket multitool. We're good.

[Namur grins brightly.]

There, y' see? 'S the reason I call y' sweetheart.

[He motions for them to follow him and walks along, hands casually in his pockets.]

Kinda a moron Davey-boy. Ain't spent much time in ruins myself, but every time there's always some shit out t' kill me. Said yer in archaeology, right? Means y' spend lots a time in places like this. An' y' came in here without even a damn knife?

[Yeah, okay, Namur hadn't either. Shhh.]

[Davies, trailing behind him with the "sample" gingerly tucked under one arm for the time being because hello can he have his bag back yet, shakes his head.] In all honesty, it was rather a spur of the moment decision... You're quite right, of course, quite right. Never too old to learn a lesson, that's what I say.

[Despite his lack of obvious injury, there's a still slight but noticeable weave to his step.]

Though... pardon me for bringing it up, but I wouldn't have expected there to be a usable exit this way...

[The sway of Namur's shoulders as he walks doesn't even get interrupted as he shrugs.]

Ain't headin' for the exit. Y' heard that rumbly sound earlier, didn't y'? Got t' make sure it ain't dangerous.

[Davies' bag seems quite content where it's hanging, and Namur's content to leave it there until he comes up with some excuse to search it.]

Hurt yer leg or somethin'?

[Maria takes up the rear, both to protect them against any attack from the behind, and to keep an eye on Davies.]

You're safer with us fighting than you are on your own, running. Not that we expect you to fight...

No, no, of course. Well, I suppose you don't need to be reminded, but please do be careful. If I remember rightly, that rock must have come from somewhere down there...

[By original design or simply after years of weather, the long hallway they're marching along is beginning to slightly but noticeably incline downwards. A damp, cloying scent suffuses more and more of the air as they continue on.

They won't pass any other doors in this area that aren't just impassable piles of debris - mostly fallen masonry, with no sign of anything similar to that coffin - but at the end of the corridor sits an old stairway to the next floor down, steps so worn that they appear to curve.]

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