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<Narrator> ::The snake sigil slips easily out of its slot on the left-hand door, and a bright light pours from the exposed hole. Slowly, the portal yawns open, revealing a second door-- or more properly, Gate-- just a few feet beyond. The gate shimmers with golden light, its outline wavering as if viewed through a heat haze. Its own light reveals a few feet of passage just beyond, and the lintel of a second, more mundane door.:: * Dawn advances toward it slowly, wary of yet another trick from Fred -- despite his having completed Bonesteel's final steps. <Dawn> ::The hairs on the back of Dawn's neck stand up as he pushes through the gate, but otherwise nothing untoward happens. A few short steps place him at the mundane door, and he pauses for a few moments, his hand resting on the wood, to bask in the glow of accomplishment. Finally, recalling his mission, he opens the door.:: <Dawn> Miss Suchart? <Narrator> ::the door has a small grille in the top, to allow one to peer inside without entering, should he so desire. The door itself is unlocked-- or at least seems to be, from this side. The door opens onto a large-- no, make that a VERY large-- room. The soft lighting that comes up when Dawn opens the door allows him to see that much, but it's hard to make out the exact dimensions, given the amount of shiny, glittery stuff packed within.:: * Dawn is too much of a thief to avoid gaping at all the Shiny, but he is too much of a mage to allow Shiny to distract him from the task at hand. He swallows hard, and scans the room again. "Ellie? I'm Dawn. Your sister sent me." <Narrator> ::There are seven more doors, Dawn notices, at each of the other cardinal points of the room. In a mostly clear space in the center of the room, a winking skull is depicted on the floor tiles, partially obscured by a priceless-looking silk rug spread over half of it. On the rug sleeps a slim, dark-haired girl in her late teens. * Dawn frowns and crosses to the girl. He drops to one knee and puts his hand gently on her shoulder. "Miss Suchart?" * Elowys's chest rises and falls gently, and her color is good. She doesn't respond at all to Dawn's soft call, however. <Narrator> ::a couple of yards away from her is the desiccated body of a younger boy who will never wake again. His leg has broken off, and rests a few inches away from the rest of him. It looks like someone has at least made an effort to line the limb back up properly.:: * Dawn looks around quickly, then picks up Ellie's hand and pats the back of it rather briskly, almost but not quite a slap. "Time to wake up, sweetheart." * Elowys rolls over slightly as Dawn picks up her hand, but continues to sleep. In fact, now that she's on her back, she starts to snore softly. * Dawn grumbles. "In a fucking panic about the dark and the 'mouse,' and now she's a fucking fairytale princess?" He puts his lips close to her ear. "ELLIE. WAKE UP!" <Elowys> Zzzzzzz..... <Narrator> ::off to one side, beside a large, canopied bed, Dawn hears a faint rustling and scraping:: * Dawn recalls the bookbox and its inward-facing sleep spell, but looks over at the boy's body. "She hasn't been asleep the *whole* ti- Oh, fuck it. Can't hurt." He picks her up -- carefully -- and carries her out of the treasure room. * Elowys sleeps on in Dawn's arms, heedless of her surroundings. * Dawn takes Ellie to the table and chair set up in the warehouse, and sets her in the chair. "There. Now..." His back firmly to the inviting doorway of the treasure room, he casts the brief spell which allows him to see magic, and examines her. * Dawn nods calmly as he sees the shimmer of spell laid over Ellie's limp body. He ponders waking her, then seems to think the better of it. He arranges her a little more comfortably in the chair, then goes back into the treasure room, hoping to at least clear it of bodies before she wakes. * Dawn pauses by the bed to watch the end of the hour-lady's dance. He crouches to pick up her sister, whistling soundlessly at their exquisite workmanship. "No wonder that old fuckhead got obsessed," he mutters. <Narrator> ::On the canopied bed just above the Hours, the remains of a woman rest on the decaying silken coverlet. Her withered form is arrayed sumptuously in rotting dark green velvet that compliments her pale blond hair. She holds a mahogany box on her chest.:: <Dawn> Sylvia, I presume. ::he gently pries the box from her desiccated grip and curiously peers inside:: <Narrator> ::The box contains pages of notes written on fine parchment in a courtly hand-- and in code. In addition to these are what appear to be legal documents-- a grant of land, business transactions dated about thirty years past, a marriage certificate, an honorarium from the now-deceased king, and, in the bottom of the box, a pair of wedding rings.:: * Dawn tucks the coded notes into his pocket and leaves everything else in the box, for now. He sets it aside, and begins the delicate, tedious, and mildly gross job of moving Sylvia to the box he prepared for her. <Narrator> ::Dawn's job is made slightly more difficult by the fact that Sylvia is as brittle as old paper. The silk coverlet beneath her, while fraying, proves a little more sturdy, and it proves easier to simply bundle up the whole thing and put it in the box.:: * Dawn finishes with Sylvia, puts the lid on her box, and goes back for the boy. <Narrator> ::the boy is a little more of a problem. He's been dead for several years and it is moderately dry in here (thankfully, for Dawn's nose), but he's fresher than the others and still sort of... icky.:: * Dawn sighs, rips a sheet off the bed, and uses it to transport the boy's body. He dumps the boy rather unceremoniously into his box, keeping hold of his sheet in case any of the other bodies require it. Before looking for the next, he grabs a handful of Shinies and stuffs them in his pocket, by way of an Ick-Handling Fee. <Dawn> ::Once Dawn has finished moving the bodies, he takes a quick tour of the room, peering through the grilles in the other seven doors and forming a mental sketch of the treasure's organization (if there is any), and then returns to his sleeping guest.:: <Narrator> ::Most of the bodies-- thirteen in all-- are fairly easy to find. Some have been dead an awfully long time, and even in this place, they are nothing but dust and bones. Dawn stumbles over the fourteenth getting to the east door. This one is fresher as well, and his shirt and pockets are stuffed with choice gems and gold. A dainty jewelled tiara adorns his rotting head.:: * Dawn raises his eyebrows as he mentally consults his list and wonders who this is. "Optimistic, were we?" <Narrator> ::The doors look out onto nothing-- all is black behind them, and they don't budge. As far as Dawn can tell, though, these doors will *never* open-- they appear to be dummies. Then again, he may not desire to find out what *his* door looks like, when it's closed.:: <Narrator> ::The portion of the Treasure Room nearest to where Dawn came in appears to have a some organization, of sorts: there are entire "rooms" laid out of exquisite rugs and furniture of fine, rare woods. Some are true antiques, but most appear to be made as a set in a style popular in the capital about fifty or sixty years ago.:: <Narrator> ::On the far side of Sylvia's bed is a small chest, like a child's toy chest. The top layer, visible at a glance, appears to be a jumble of puzzles and puzzle-boxes of all sorts, both mechanical and magical. Someone, it appears, was a collector.:: <Narrator> ::The rest of the shinies appear to be arranged chronologically, more than anything. A few of the older pieces have been brought closer to the front, but otherwise, the room appears to contain four distinct "periods" and styles of wealth, dating back to Frederach's own time and taste (or lack thereof).:: * Dawn returns to Ellie after his cursory examination of the room, and stands over her for a moment with his arms crossed, weighing his choices and trying to work out how much time has passed since he brought her out of the room. <Narrator> ::Hunting out all the bodies and carrying them away took, Dawn estimates, somewhat less than two hours.:: * Elowys continues to sleep peacefully. Occasionally, a light snore escapes. * Dawn sighs, positions himself over Ellie's chair, and lightly slaps at her cheeks. He calls her name, and then repeats the process with slightly more force, until she finally begins to respond. * Elowys startles in her sleep as Dawn slaps her cheeks a little harder, and her eyes flutter open. Her incipient yawn ends in a gasp as she sees a scruffy, dusty, tattered blond stranger bending over her. She nearly tips over the chair as she attempts to scuttle backwards. <Dawn> ::with a wry grin:: That appealing, am I? ::he straightens and leans back against the table.:: I'm Dawn. Your sister sent me. * Elowys looks him up and down, eyes wide. "Y-you're Cat's friend?" The question comes out in a slightly dubious tone, and she puts a hand to her lips, blushing. "I'm sorry. I-- I didn't mean that quite the way it sounded. Thank you for finding me." She looks around, puzzled, and gasps again as she sees the open Treasure Room over Dawn's shoulder. "Where--? I was... I... fell asleep?" She sounds puzzled. <Dawn> ::half-smiles:: You fell asleep, some magic was keeping you under... I thought it best to get you out. ::he straightens and gestures at the table:: There's food and drink-- take it easy, or you'll be sick. And if you want it, a change of clothes. ::he points at the robe draped over the back of her chair:: <Dawn> I have some work to do here. When I'm done, I'll take you to Cat. * Elowys nods. "Thank you." She wrinkles her nose. "I *do* smell, don't I? Probably look a fright, too. Er... do be careful. There were, um, bodies. OH! And if you find a jar about so big--" she describes something about two feet tall and perhaps the same around with her hands, "--two feet off the fringy end of the rug, be careful." She blushes furiously. "I... er... didn't have a proper chamber pot." * Elowys shakes her head. "Enchanted twice in two-- well, it's probably been more than two days, hasn't it? How... how *did* you wake me up?" She pauses, looking at him sidelong. "Did you kiss me?" <Dawn> ::grins:: Horrifying prospect, isn't it? Don't ask questions if you don't want to know the answers. ::he starts to head back to the Treasure Room, then cocks his head at her:: You seem awfully... together, considering what you've been through. * Elowys grins cheekily at him. "Not so horrifying. I've always wondered what it might be like to be kissed by a rogue, and you look more like a rogue than a mage, begging your pardon. You don't have to say it, I know: I talk too much." The smile fleets from her face at Dawn's next comment, and she clasps her hands together quickly. Her voice is quieter. "I... I've been trying not to think about it too much, honestly." * Elowys looks up at him earnestly. Her eyes, he notices, are dark brown. "I've already had my share of hysterics, Master Dawn. I don't understand much of what happened, and I don't think I want to. I expect I'll be sleeping with a light in the hall from now on... or for some time, at least. But Cat found me, and she said someone would come for me, and here you are. So... whatever happens next, it can't possibly be as bad as what came before, right?" <Dawn> Probably for the best, that. I'm no good at all with hysterical women. If you can hold it in 'til you're with your sister, I'd be grateful. ::he grins:: I'm beginning to think the talking is a family trait... And no, I didn't kiss you. Wouldn't have worked, and whatever *you* thought about it, I can guarantee it wouldn't have turned out well for me. * Elowys grins in relief. "That settles it. You're *definitely* a friend of Cat's." She gives him a little shooing wave. "Go on and do what you have to. I'll be fine. No screaming, I promise." She shudders faintly at that, and turns carefully towards the table to investigate the food he brought. * Dawn fishes in his pocket and comes up with the Continual Light rock. He hands it to her. "Here. Have some bread. Cat promised a decent meal for you, but *she* doesn't have a lot of experience with half-starved folk. Eat it slow. If you need me, just yell." * Elowys turns the rock over in her hands with a wonderstruck expression, staring at it wide-eyed. She raps it gently on the table and shakes it before looking up at Dawn again with a hint of awe. "You really *are* a mage! Thank you!" * Dawn laughs ruefully and shakes his head, muttering something about "apprentice spells" and including certain words not entirely appropriate for mixed company. He leaves her to her meal and grabs a stack of boxes, heading for the Treasure Room. * Dawn begins to fill some pre-prepared crates with an assortment of valuables. He starts with Sylvia's box and the two dancing ladies. From there, he lets his well-honed thief's instincts draw him to the most valuable and unusual items. <Narrator> ::As Dawn discerned earlier, there are about four "periods" of treasure in here-- or at least four fairly distinct collectors. The first, of course, is Bonesteel's-- primarily rugs and furniture, but from the gleam on some of the puzzle-boxes, Sylvia's box holds promise, too. Bie will probably adore the rugs.:: <Narrator> ::The second group of items seems to be a collection of art from all over the world, some of it much too large to portage out easily. A snarling lion, carved entirely of lapis, part of a mandala fresco in brilliant reds, blues, yellows, and blacks, an enamelled statue of an annoyingly familiar winged serpent.:: <Dawn> [aheh] <Narrator> ::Some of the items are more, shall we say, pocketable: a necklace of coral and pearls, beautiful but tiny Shou Lung porcelain bottles, Malatran carved jade, and a selection of Wa figurines perhaps best not shown to Ellie... they might give her Ideas.:: * Dawn knows he has no hope of packing up ALL the treasure now -- not even a hope of packing up all the easily-portable stuff. He makes his selections with almost surgical precision, as if he wants to gather the best stuff now, as if he expects not to come back. He grins at the Wa figurines and packs them, taking note of which box they go into. <Narrator> ::The third group of item has its own set of cases. For lack of something better to call it, it's a rock collection... but what rocks! The items that first catch Dawn's eye are a black pearl the size of a pigeon's egg, a fire opal that appears, literally, to be wreathed in flames, a silvery-white, double-pointed crystal he recognizes as mithril, and a bit of black stone in an iron cage-- that's resting at the TOP of the cage, as if it would float away otherwise.:: <Narrator> ::It almost makes him wonder what some of the other rocks are... a crystal so dark purple it seems black, a lump of what looks like iron, a plain-looking glass bottle full of sand, and an ugly-looking pock-marked stone.:: <Narrator> ::some life is still left in Dawn's magic-detection spell, and it is almost a hindrance: there's so much background "noise" in the room that barely anything else even registers. It is almost a relief, then, when his spell stops working prematurely-- just as he reaches past the bottle of sand.:: * Dawn blinks twice and sighs with relief, then looks at the bottle with narrowed eyes. "How... Never mind. *You* get to stay here until I'm sure you're not going to dispel my favorite cloak." <Narrator> ::The last section is rather obviously Frederach's. Dawn would be hard-put to call anything made of so much gold "hideous" after seeing Fred's other handiwork, but the 3-foot-tall Maztican half-scorpion, half-man idol makes a good try for the title.:: <Dawn> ::snorts at the idol and takes very little from Frederach's section:: <Narrator> ::Just behind the idol is a rearing three-headed dragon carved of gleaming black crystal, in a style popular perhaps 2,000 years ago in one the Lost Empires to the east. Looped around its neck is an scarab amulet of precious stones and gold, popular with the Mulhorandish death cult nobility:: <Narrator> ::a kris knife crusted with blood-- or perhaps ichor, as it's etched the steel-- rests on a table beside a crystal skull and a small, unassuming, plain wooden box:: <Dawn> ::fingers itch toward the plain box, and then his mage instincts kick in, and he's certain that must be among the more dangerous of Fred's artifacts kept here. He resolves to leave it for later, as well, and moves on.:: <Narrator> ::Dawn is just contemplating a necklace of black and red stones that look almost, but not quite, like rubies, when a throat clears tentatively from the doorway:: * Elowys hesitates at the door, nibbling on a heel of bread and looking around with wide eyes. <Dawn> ::looks around:: Wha- Miss Suchart? <Elowys> I'm sorry to disturb you, I just... ::she looks around at the piles of treasure with wide eyes:: Is this... where I was? Truly? <Dawn> It is. ::he smiles faintly, and is silently thankful that he already packed the Wa figurines. He climbs out of the piles of Fred's stuff and comes toward her.:: I found you sleeping right over there. * Elowys nods slowly, tentatively approaching and kneeling on the carpet. "Yes... it was dark, I couldn't see anything. I mainly stayed on the rug. I tried to move around a little at first... that way--" she looks around, and gestures towards the bed, and swallows. "--but..." She stops abruptly. "Were there a lot of... bodies? What *is* this place, exactly? Flavian said the puzzle-box was magical and there was something amazing inside. We'd split it, when I got it open..." * Elowys makes a face. <Dawn> ::snorts:: Speaking of rogues.... Did you let *him* kiss you? ::he turns to look over the room without waiting for an answer:: It's a treasure room. It was created by a very powerful and very evil wizard, several hundred years ago. ::he smiles at her again:: I took care of the bodies while you were sleeping. No need for you to worry. <Elowys> Thank you. And... at the time, I *wanted* him to. I thought that's what *he* wanted. :she sighs and wraps her arms around herself:: I thought he was flirting. Who ever thought a guy would be interested in me just for my *mind*? ::she sticks out her tongue:: * Dawn looks Ellie over, an obvious, almost cartoonish leer. "More fool he." He winks and goes back to packing boxes. "Feeling better? Almost ready to face your sister?" * Elowys nods slowly. Dawn notes that one of her hands is closed tightly, and a bit of light leaks from between her fingers. "I think so. I..." she chews her lip, looking around again and shuffling forward on her knees to reach for a squat red and black vase. "I never thought he meant to just... leave me here. I called and called for him... until I found the boy." She glances into the vase and makes a face. * Elowys doesn't look up as she rises to her feet again, stone in one hand, vase in the other. Her voice is quiet. "I wonder if he called for Flavian, too." She looks at him, finally. "Thank you for finding me, Dawn. Really." <Dawn> You're welcome. But thank Cat. She hired me. ::he smiles and tucks his last box under his arm, gesturing toward the door:: Shall we? * Elowys nods, and brandishes the vase. "Um... I'll give this back to you, I promise, but... do you have some place I can dump it, first?" She grins weakly. <Dawn> ::snorts:: If you think that's the worst thing that was in here... ::he narrows his eyes and points at the vase, which suddenly becomes slightly lighter in Ellie's arms:: I became a mage so I wouldn't have to empty chamberpots anymore. * Elowys looks vastly skeptical. "Really?" <Dawn> ::grins:: Well, no. But it *is* one of the benefits. Come on. ::he takes her arm gently and escorts her from the treasure room, then turns back to close the door:: * Elowys precedes Dawn out, setting the erstwhile chamber pot down by the door. <Narrator> ::the portal seals again when Dawn replaces the snake sigil. In a matter of moments, the floating satellites of silver and bone, the black fog, all have been sucked back into the Box, and the entire thing shrunk back to its initial size. It comes to rest, quiet and unassuming, on Dawn's palm:: * Dawn looks around quickly, as if to reassure himself that the things he took out of the Treasure Room (especially Ellie) are still out, and then puts the Box in his pocket. He starts to hold out his hand, then almost self-consciously pulls it back and offers her his arm, instead. * Elowys glances down at Dawn's self-conscious movement and hooks her elbow into his with a smile. Quite deliberately, she lines up their forearms and clasps his left hand with her right one. <Dawn> ::blinks, startled, as she takes hold of his scarred hand, then laughs:: I knew I'd like you. Let's go, then. ::he draws his small silver knife with his good hand:: Ever teleported before? <Elowys> ::shaking her head:: Before that Box, I'd never really encountered *any* magic. Mama knows a mage in town for business, but... that's not really our trade. <Dawn> ::grins:: Nothing to it. Just don't let go. <Elowys> Nossir. ::grips his hand a little more tightly:: Oh-- I'm not hurting you, am I? <Dawn> Not at all. ::he recites the teleportation spell quickly, giving the coordinates for the landing just outside Cat and Angel's flat.:: * Elowys blinks a few times, seemingly dazzled by the daylight, and looks around curiously. "Well. That... honestly, that was barely anything." * Elowys sounds faintly offended. <Dawn> ::chuckles:: The best magics always are. <Elowys> ::grinning:: Oh, so you're a really *good* mage, too? <Dawn> ::mock-offended:: You *doubt* me? After my daring and death-defying rescue? <Elowys> ::looking him in the eye, her expression forthright:: No. ::she grins a little, then:: I just don't know much about mages. Trust Cat to land on her feet and find a good one. And me too, I suppose. ::she smiles brightly and squeezes his hand:: * Dawn smiles and knocks on the door. |
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