[kit's quest]

[dramatispersonae]

[you are suddenly at the bottom of a pile of heavy, square-cornered objects. it is rather hard to breathe and they're jabbing you in uncomfortable places. you may want to move.]

Comments

[blackjacked]

[SAFE. for now.

pulls back, glancing at the torches with a bit of hesitation before yoinking another lit one off of the wall.

and then it's time to start lighting the unlit ones]

[dramatispersonae]

[another set of disembodied red eyes, and then the men and horses' eyes start lighting yellow and orange again as you go . . .]

[blackjacked]

[tenses as this happens, preparing for the moment they burst through the door, but doesn't stop lighting]

[dramatispersonae]

[the commotion is very different this time as you head towards torch number fifty: swearing, the sound of panicked horses, screams of fear . . .]

[blackjacked]

[. . . huh. different room, different results? lights the fiftieth torch and makes his way back toward the door.

though this time he's prepared to run if it should be necessary]

[dramatispersonae]

[A PANICKED STAMPEDE OF MEN AND HORSES EXPLODES OUT THE DOOR WHEN YOU LIGHT TORCH FIFTY ACTUALLY

they are being chased by a white fox and a white wolf, both red-eyed, snarling and foaming]

[blackjacked]

[OH GOSH THAT'S DIFFERENT

but he turns on his heel and darts down the hallway again, aiming for the safe haven of the storeroom]

[dramatispersonae]

[you make it! the hunting party thunders past, but you can hear growling and whuffling; the fox and wolf are outside the storeroom door this time]

[blackjacked]

[had expected that. already yoinking two boxes and prying them open with his pocket knife]

[dramatispersonae]

[one is full of dried grass and the other is full of torn paper]

[blackjacked]

[takes the open box with the dried grass, cracks open the door, and holds it out]

Ooooi, over here!

[dramatispersonae]

[THE WOLF LEAPS IN AND SETS THE BOX ON FIRE

. . . and then the fox also leaps in

so the box uh

explodes and knocks you back into the pile of crates]

[blackjacked]

[-- OW

c-crashing into a pile of crates hurts just as much as having a box explode in your face, so he is just. going to lay there dazed and stare at the ceiling for a bit while he tries to ignore the painful burns that now line his arms and hands]

[dramatispersonae]

[fortunately the fires go out and don't light up the whole room on top of you.]

[blackjacked]

[t-thank goodness, though he was far too dazed by that explosion to really worry about that.

EVENTUALLY, he pushes himself up, though shakily and with some difficulty, and pulls out some of those Coral clothes he has stowed away in his pockets so he can wrap his wounds]

S-shit.

[dramatispersonae]

[your team will be so proud of you.]

[blackjacked]

[. . . no I am p. sure they will hate me forever :(

it takes him some time to wrap his arms and hands completely (mostly because he's shaking throughout the entire process), but once he is finished he pushes himself to his feet and limps toward the door.

I HOPE I GOT PRETTY ROCKS OUT OF THIS ONE TOO and I hope I don't need three for the puzzle that lies ahead :|]

[dramatispersonae]

[yes you got two pretty red rocks]

[blackjacked]

[pockets. . . then limps down the left hallway, but not before wiping a bit of blood off his cheeks. NO PAIN NO GAIN AFTER ALL]

Tch. Should've gotten the cure first. . .

[dramatispersonae]

[there's a dim light coming from the door now...]

[blackjacked]

[pulling the door open slightly and peering into the room. . .]

[dramatispersonae]

[it's a very wide box of a room lined with mirrors, and seems mostly empty. a black lantern with a twenty foot pole up to a platform is set in the middle of the floor. a thick rope dangles from the ceiling to the platform. a tiny, feeble light burns in the lantern; its reflections just barely get the room visible]

[blackjacked]

. . . opposites, huh?

[I guess I should climb that pole. .. or, uh. attempt to. it'll be difficult with these injuries]

[dramatispersonae]

[when you take a couple of steps in something slices into your leg . . .]

[blackjacked]

[curses and draws back sharply, gaze flickering down toward the floor in an attempt to search for whatever it was that cut him]

What the--