08-22-2017, 12:40 PM
Armande slept peacefully on the mat, dreams nothing more than feelings, whisps of smoke that scattered before they could be touched. A part of him was always still alert- enemies and evil did not respect the sanctity of sleep. But his mood was undisturbed.
And then something changed. His dreams began to coalesce, becoming more substantial, dangerous. Lights flickered at the back of his mind, reminiscent of fire- and then it was fire, the same fires that had burned the mansion. He felt the heat again, could taste the dry fire, smell the ash and smoke and burned corpses. His hair slicked with sweat that misted in the heat. He suppressed any sense of panic as he pondered his way through the flames. His path was blocked.
A bell dinged loudly, echoing far above the roars of the flames and the cracking of the burning wood. Louder. Louder, each time causing the image and pain to recede, as if it were drifting away from him, pulling taught. a balloon on a string-
Pop!
Suddenly he was on his mat, the warm swampy cave now cool in contrast to the heat from the dream. It had seemed so real, the flames so hot he could almost imagine his arms reddened, the memory of pain. There was no time, though, because the warm air carried a sulfurous scent, far stronger than what always lingered. He recognized the danger at once.
He rolled to his feet, grabbed his bags and pulled out the light armor he'd worn through these tunnels- still stained with soot and flecks of burned flesh- and quickly put it on, ignoring the sharp stabs from his still fresh injuries. The second skin was doing its job but the pain would remain until he palmed a few more tablets. He clipped his carbon steel telescoping sword to his belt and grabbed his pack, then rushed out the tunnels.
Commotion reigned as people ran about haphazardly. He ground his teeth at the lack of order? Where was Valeriya? Where was the Hand? The danger was real and if they stayed here, they would die. Already he was feeling an irritation in his eyes and nose, a slight cough in his throat, the rotten egg smell strong and putrid.
As if a summons, Matvei rushed to him from one of the tunnels. He looked angry. "Father Regus, the Eye has vanished."
He looked around at the people, some of whom stopped rushing about now that he and the Hand were there. [color=orange"]"We were packing your things, Father, when this happened."[/color] Armande narrowed his eyes- already irritated from the gas.
He had his suspicions. Not that he would blame her, not necessarily. Getting a group of 40 plus people to leave was not going to be easy, whatever he was to them. They had her word- and the picture on the wall, he had to remember. That was something. But they also had the Hand, Matvei. Their power struggle was real.
Those left behind would fall prey to him. But Armande had taken a side. She was his Oracle. He wanted her with him.
"We must leave. Now. This is hydrogen sulfide. It will kill all of us in moments." He glanced at the stacks of boxes. The jewels and gold and silver would come in handy, above. Money in its purest untraceable form. The people didn't have much anyway. And the map. He would not forget the map.
He played to Matvei's hunger. "Hand, have Timur and a few of the others grab the boxes. That one, that one, that one," he said, pointing out the ones he knew contained valuables. He would not be able to salvage them all.
"Tell off others to gather any provisions they can get quickly." He looked at Matvei intently, making sure he understood the seriousness. "Be my Hand in the this." The implication was clear.
A twitch of a smile told him that Matvei had taken the bait. Alliance with Armande- the one they believed was Rasputin reborn- was a chance not to be missed.
Quickly, Armande's commands were carried out. Soon, with Armande at the head, Matvei and the rest at his heels, their procession headed through the tunnels. Valeriya would appear soon, of that he had no doubt. She'd done what she'd done. Decisively.
And he very much approved. Orpheus was leaving the Hades with his prize. It would not be snatched from him.
And then something changed. His dreams began to coalesce, becoming more substantial, dangerous. Lights flickered at the back of his mind, reminiscent of fire- and then it was fire, the same fires that had burned the mansion. He felt the heat again, could taste the dry fire, smell the ash and smoke and burned corpses. His hair slicked with sweat that misted in the heat. He suppressed any sense of panic as he pondered his way through the flames. His path was blocked.
A bell dinged loudly, echoing far above the roars of the flames and the cracking of the burning wood. Louder. Louder, each time causing the image and pain to recede, as if it were drifting away from him, pulling taught. a balloon on a string-
Pop!
Suddenly he was on his mat, the warm swampy cave now cool in contrast to the heat from the dream. It had seemed so real, the flames so hot he could almost imagine his arms reddened, the memory of pain. There was no time, though, because the warm air carried a sulfurous scent, far stronger than what always lingered. He recognized the danger at once.
He rolled to his feet, grabbed his bags and pulled out the light armor he'd worn through these tunnels- still stained with soot and flecks of burned flesh- and quickly put it on, ignoring the sharp stabs from his still fresh injuries. The second skin was doing its job but the pain would remain until he palmed a few more tablets. He clipped his carbon steel telescoping sword to his belt and grabbed his pack, then rushed out the tunnels.
Commotion reigned as people ran about haphazardly. He ground his teeth at the lack of order? Where was Valeriya? Where was the Hand? The danger was real and if they stayed here, they would die. Already he was feeling an irritation in his eyes and nose, a slight cough in his throat, the rotten egg smell strong and putrid.
As if a summons, Matvei rushed to him from one of the tunnels. He looked angry. "Father Regus, the Eye has vanished."
He looked around at the people, some of whom stopped rushing about now that he and the Hand were there. [color=orange"]"We were packing your things, Father, when this happened."[/color] Armande narrowed his eyes- already irritated from the gas.
He had his suspicions. Not that he would blame her, not necessarily. Getting a group of 40 plus people to leave was not going to be easy, whatever he was to them. They had her word- and the picture on the wall, he had to remember. That was something. But they also had the Hand, Matvei. Their power struggle was real.
Those left behind would fall prey to him. But Armande had taken a side. She was his Oracle. He wanted her with him.
"We must leave. Now. This is hydrogen sulfide. It will kill all of us in moments." He glanced at the stacks of boxes. The jewels and gold and silver would come in handy, above. Money in its purest untraceable form. The people didn't have much anyway. And the map. He would not forget the map.
He played to Matvei's hunger. "Hand, have Timur and a few of the others grab the boxes. That one, that one, that one," he said, pointing out the ones he knew contained valuables. He would not be able to salvage them all.
"Tell off others to gather any provisions they can get quickly." He looked at Matvei intently, making sure he understood the seriousness. "Be my Hand in the this." The implication was clear.
A twitch of a smile told him that Matvei had taken the bait. Alliance with Armande- the one they believed was Rasputin reborn- was a chance not to be missed.
Quickly, Armande's commands were carried out. Soon, with Armande at the head, Matvei and the rest at his heels, their procession headed through the tunnels. Valeriya would appear soon, of that he had no doubt. She'd done what she'd done. Decisively.
And he very much approved. Orpheus was leaving the Hades with his prize. It would not be snatched from him.