|
|
Post by Èdan on Jul 24, 2020 7:16:45 GMT -6
He hasn't had the misfortune to endure a shipwreck as of yet, but if he was to imagine it, this is what it would likely feel like. The boards lining the sides of the hole are splintered and cracked, the sea below a terrible mess of waves and wind, as the creaks and groans of strained timber fill the air. Even the floor itself feels like it's about to shift and sway, despite being perfectly stable just moments before. Crates and barrels line the room, such parts as still remain, at least, while a few more can be seen bobbing in the waters below. Some broken, some intact.
The man raises a hand to shield his eyes from the spray, taking a few steps closer. The room is dark, but that isn't quite such a problem for his eyes. The sense of equilibrium disturbed getting closer the nearer the hole becomes. Beyond the dimness and darkness there is just a wast nothing filled with sea spray, as if everything really was on a ship at sea, the middle of the ocean.
. 64 .
July: 9
Maredian
|
|
|
|
Post by Èdan on Jul 24, 2020 7:21:30 GMT -6
But.. it's also a store room, a cargo hold. The netting and barrels upon boxes are a clear indication of this. For most of it he knows there's no sense of searching (At least, assuming the manor is putting forth this illusion with the intent to be true to life). Barrels are for liquids and grains, nothing he has use for at the moment. But boxes could hold more.. and any chest better still. If the manor was to imitate a ship, anything worth retrieving from a sunken vessel would be found here.
He uses the glaive for balance and support against the floor, moving slowly across the sides of the room as he searches the cargo (Far from it is he tempted to outweigh the risks of tempting anything already claimed by the sea. No, he'll only check the cargo still dry). With no label or form of identification on the crates, he'll have to resort to inspecting ones already damages, and prying the others open with the glaive to see what's inside.
. 65 .
July: 10
Maredian
|
|
|
|
Post by Nadia on Jul 24, 2020 8:17:49 GMT -6
|
|
|
|
Post by Èdan on Jul 28, 2020 2:22:19 GMT -6
The glaive's blade slids under the space beneath the lid and a quick yank lodges it open. He pulls up the lid as the nails creak, coming up out of the wood and looks inside. He then stares inside. The lid is lowered a moment as the helmeted head raises, stares at the ceiling and after a few moment's pause, a heavy sigh gets muffled by the turbulent waves. He lifts the lid again and stares into the crate's interior like a man with new found contempt for the world. Specifically this phantasmal manor-made one.
Inside the crate two pairs of eyes and a single glowing dot stare back. The crate, from bottom to nearly the brim, is filled with water.. and two fish. Somehow the crate wasn't leaking, and despite there being hardly anything else in there with them, the two fish don't seem particularly perturbed of their present situation. Just his luck to find two more small beasts to, most likely, follow him around relentlessly and without peace.
. 66 .
July: 11
Maredian
|
|
|
|
Post by Èdan on Jul 28, 2020 2:28:40 GMT -6
The bear, bird and bug had remained in the hallway, apparently aware that the room he is in wasn't something to be trifled with. On a positive note, the fish were water-contained, meaning they weren't as likely to simply up and follow after him. He could leave and not have to worry. With that in mind he moves over to the next crate and lodges it open. This time the contents are quire dry if not a little.. one-sided - the crate is filled with empty jars, ropes running around the lip as handles. He considers the oddity a moment, before moving onto the next crate (Perhaps there's someone looking to start up a lantern-making business, he isn't one to judge. There's a market for such aesthetics around these parts for sure).
If the spitefulness and the nature of direct implication of the manor wasn't yet obvious, there was no shadow of a doubt with the next crate - lids. Glass lids for glass jars. Glass jars big enough to fit a fish each (And water to spare). The man leaned both hands against the crate for several seconds, and yet again, there was a resounding deep sigh as his head lowered.
. 67 .
July: 12
Maredian
|
|
|
|
Post by Èdan on Jul 28, 2020 2:34:57 GMT -6
'Play by the rules', he reminds himself, even if the annoyance isn't particularly masked. The manor doesn't like cheaters, and it likes those who refuse to participate even less (There had been a few lessons of that the hard way). He jams the glaive's blade between the floorboards, to keep it in one place as the room rocks and goes to fumble about the crates - from one he grabs two lids, from the other two jars, and from the last one, he rolls up the sleeves, pulls off the gloves and spends a good five minutes trying to lure each of the fish into their own glass jar, before sealing it sight with the lid. There is something weird about the glass of the jars, it felt softer than normal, but he doesn't spend all too much longer contemplating it as both water-filled, fish-contained jars get tied to the belt for easier carrying.
If things keep up, he'll need to find a backpack in this place to keep everything, the belt can only hold and carry so much.
. 68 .
July: 13
Maredian
|
|
|
|
Post by Èdan on Jul 28, 2020 2:40:31 GMT -6
He spends some time searching the rest of the room, in crates and barrels still untouched, but finding largely rubbish or much of the same (Except for fish. It seems there is exactly one crate with them and he had found it immediately. They aren't even particularly beautiful fish, with one being a right nightmare from some deep darkness, but if nothing else he has something to eat down the line. Presuming they are even 'edible' and not filled with poison, although that wouldn't particularly surprise him, either). The only other kind of find close to a curiosity is a piece of shell from a smaller box.
Cowries aren't popular as a material from he is from, but in his travels he's seen other cultures and peoples put quite a price on them. One isn't enough to bargain with anywhere, but several, enough for a necklace or some other form of decoration, could fetch interested buyers if needed. He stows it in the belt, where everything else is seeming to already crowd, and heads out of the room.
. 69 .
July: 14
Maredian
|
|
|
|
Post by Èdan on Jul 28, 2020 2:48:32 GMT -6
Back in the corridor, with the beasts staring him in anticipation, it was likewise back to the previous problem - find the way out, by way of finding the next door to try (And pray to Order it doesn't contain water. At least, not too much water). Three doors have been tried and the end of the hallway was approaching, as one side was almost spent. He moved up to the next door, pausing to listen in the event the sounds beyond are a roaring turmoil like the previous room, before trying the handle. The door opens inward, already a more positive sign.
Beyond it is a stone-lined corridor and a set of stairs leading down, into a hazy blue light from a brightly coloured room. On the edges he can spot signs of plant life and flickering movement, as if reflections of light, while the bottom floor seems to be sand. So.. not water filled, which is a distinct improvement. Carefully, he starts to make his way downstairs as the room gradually opens up more to view.
. 70 .
July: 15
Maredian
|
|
|
|
Post by Nadia on Jul 28, 2020 9:12:47 GMT -6
Some shells litter the sand.
|
|
|
|
Post by Èdan on Jul 30, 2020 10:28:29 GMT -6
The sight from the landing proves to be fairly accurate - the floor is indeed covered in thin, almost bleached sand, closer to dust than the usual coarse kind he's used to, while dotting it are a number of different things. There's rocks, plants, pieces of wood, debris, shells.. Anything one could find on the sea-floor, really. Hazy shapes float around seeming to be almost like reflections or imprints of fish, but lacking the corporeal part to make them completely real. To a commoner's eye it could seem as though they are more the 'memory' of fish, than fish itself - something which is imagined in the mind's eye. It would certainly explain how so many of them appear quite aesthetically pleasing, even though as far as tastes went, fish were, in truth, quite gaudy.
Certainly, some kings and queens loved to boast of their hard-won trophies when it came to the larger sorts (Or anything which struck a royal fancy, thus making it fashionable beyond all reason) but by and large the common fish was mostly a grey, bug-eyed animal that could be tricked with a simple line and a hook. Needless to say, the man had never seen them as particularly impressive.
. 71 .
July: 16
Maredian
|
|
|
|
Post by Èdan on Jul 30, 2020 10:28:53 GMT -6
That said, he also had learned quickly how to swallow one's pride and preferences in order to get results - a useless creature to him could be a valuable asset to barter to someone else. Gold turns hands, favours grease wheels and thus it keeps plans in perpetual motion. The black and blue fish in the jar could be the ugliest beast to live in existence, but if a collector wanted it for their trophy room he wouldn't hesitate to make it up to be the most marvellous, beautiful oddity to have been born.
Not that he could do much about these.. phantom fish. A raised hand blocks the path of one only for it to casually and without any fuss, float through it like wind through a willow. A glass jar isn't likely to hold these, no.. Well, all the same. It's not like he's short on fish to barter at the moment. And the ghost-fish could be more trouble to contain than they are worth in coin (More so should they simply decide to disappear as soon as he's stepped outside the Manor).
. 72 .
July: 17
Maredian
|
|
|
|
Post by Èdan on Jul 30, 2020 10:29:15 GMT -6
That type of curiosity aside, there's a sense in the room of something being.. off. It has a floor, walls and a ceiling, certainly, but the hazy glow, the flickering of light, the reflections and the atmosphere tinting everything in strong marine blue adds to a more primordial sense being. It's not until the man adds the ghostly fish and the sandy floor to the equation that he realizes the room is effectively an underwater space.. but without the water. The ceiling certainly has light dancing across is as if reflected off of a shimmering surface in motion, but no sooner does the glaive touch it that a solid surface meets it while the lights continue to dance around it. It's humid, but not moist, the sounds are dull and muffled, but not rumbling and bubbling as usually when underwater.
Indeed, for anyone who ever thought to wish for the ability to simply walk across the shallows of an ocean floor, the room seems to be made for it. A fine craft (and an even finer illusion. For all the distance the dull blue walls seeming provide, he has no doubts they are still very much walls. A grand expanse of wishful freedom shrinks some when it still comes in a tiny box). But.. at least he isn't drenched. So there's that.
. 73 .
July: 18
Maredian
|
|
|
|
Post by Èdan on Jul 30, 2020 10:35:51 GMT -6
Where the width of the room is evident if one were to pay close enough attention to limits of the blue haze, the depth of it is somewhat more ambiguous. The man keeps walking ahead, footsteps softly crunching in the sand and expects a wall to meet him at any given point. It doesn't, at least not directly ahead of him. Peering back, he can still see the stony archway where they came from, albeit it appears strangely suspended in the middle of the blue, as if someone had painted a fake stairwell in the middle of a sunken arch.
Huh. It might be an illusion, but it's going all out. He stares ahead again, seeing but a vast gradient of azure-to-lapis blue ahead, ghostly fish acting as a sense of depth. There's a pause, before he reaches down and picks up a rock from the sand, weights it in his hand and chunks it ahead. The stone flies through the water-coloured air, passing through three ghost-fist, bounced into the sand twice and skids to a stop a few dozen feet away.
. 74 .
July: 19
Maredian |
|
|
|
Post by Èdan on Jul 30, 2020 10:41:08 GMT -6
He picks up another rock and throws it immediately to the left of them. The stone flies hardly twenty feet before hitting something solid in the air and bouncing back. He leans down to pick up a third rock, weighting it in his hand, but pausing as it feels off. Turning to look at the stone, it turns out not to be a stone as such, more two shells stuck together by hardened sand. The gloved hands make short work breaking the sand away from the shells, cleaning them up and holding them up to the light. They're darker than the other ones, but the distinctive ridges at the bottom betray them to be more cowries.
Well, three isn't exactly a necklace, but it's a start to a bracelet (and three rings, if he's looking to be bold). Tucking them away to the pouch, the investigation is resumed, as he locates a stone (A proper one this time) and lobs it to their immediate right. Another twenty feet and the stone bounced against the hidden wall, bouncing back. Huh, a corridor then.
. 75 .
July: 20
Maredian
|
|
|
|
Post by Nadia on Jul 30, 2020 12:38:26 GMT -6
 What a pretty necklace. |
|
