QUIET MOUNDS - STEF HEART

[abardacttofollow]

You find yourself in a stone room that looks like some sort of medieval dungeon. There are (thankfully), no torture instruments, but there is a man strung up here. One large manacle is around his neck, chaining him stiffly to the door. His hands are free, but each foot is manacled to the matching bottom corner of the doorframe. There is a visible lock on each of the three manacles.

It's Stefen, and there's a knife in his chest. Despite that, he's alive, apparently alert, and doesn't look to be in pain, perhaps due to the lulling, sense-dulling music that seems to be coming from nowhere at all—in fact, if you were in pain before you entered, it's gone here. His wound is bleeding, but only a little, and he smiles his usual bright smile at you.

Behind him, but in front of the closed door he's bound to, you can see three double sets of strings running vertically. Where they meet the floor, they are fastened, and then each runs across the floor to the three doors on the opposite wall, then under them.

There is nothing else in this room.

((OOC: Here's how this will work! Since we're doing individual runs, rather than me putting up individual top levels for areas, just jump the post itself, and I'll run everything for you within your one thread. If you're wanting to do a run with someone else, just stay in the same thread together.))

Comments

Composition 2

[abardacttofollow]

The next room is a very small tenement room. There's a heap of rags making up a bed. In it is the same old woman from the previous room, snoring loudly and drunkenly. There's no mistaking her condition—an empty bottle is still clutched in her hand.

Stefen is huddled in the opposite corner from the bed. He is stretching out legs that are clearly sore, a shiner of a bruise on his cheek and his fingers are shaking, though whether it's hunger or pain, it's hard to tell. There are resentful tears unshed in his eyes as he silently goes about his business. He too is on a pile of rags, and he stares at you—then lights up on recognizing you, waving. A crutch leans against the wall near him. A rat scurries through the room as you take the image in.

As before, the cord runs through the room and under a locked door with some sort of weighted platform next to it. This time, there's no bowl, but it's clear something should still go there.

A sign on the door reads: "What is the weight of family? What of love?"

[mindinthegittern]

[waving back, trying not to make too sorry a face, keeping his voice down somewhat]

Hello again.

[abardacttofollow]

"Hello," Stef whispers shyly. "She won't wake up for a while, probably, but be quiet anyway, all right?"

[mindinthegittern]

[nods, tiptoeing over to crouch beside him, whispering back]

Are you alright...?

[abardacttofollow]

"I'm okay. She took both drink and dreamerie tonight so she didn't have much strength."

[mindinthegittern]

[makes a face]

I guess I can't take you out of something that already happened. Stef, do you know how I can get through that door, there?

[abardacttofollow]

Stef looks at it uncertainly, then back. "You have to find the right weight...?"

[mindinthegittern]

Yeah. And I mean, I probably can't just—

[quietly creeps over and stands on the platform]

[abardacttofollow]

Nothing happens.

[mindinthegittern]

[sigh]

Figured.

What do you know about family, Stef?

[abardacttofollow]

"I know it hurts," Stef says.

[mindinthegittern]

[bites his lip.

...he's gonna see if he can slip the bottle out of Berte's hand without waking her.]

[abardacttofollow]

It slides loosely from her fingers when you tug on it.

[mindinthegittern]

[whispering]

Let's see about this, then.

[placing it on the platform]

[abardacttofollow]

Click. Good job Medren.

[mindinthegittern]

I'll see you again, okay, Stef?

[waving goodbye, and then through the door he goes]

[abardacttofollow]

This is another outdoor scene, similar to before, the room an 'alley' running between two buildings, both clearly houses of ill repute; judging from the crudely drawn images on their signs, one caters to men, and the other to women. The lighting is dim, and the ceiling is painted like a clouded-over night's sky. The cord runs through the room and then up, being held by a woman standing there. You can see a key in her other hand; she's spinning it at the end of one finger. She is tall and fierce-looking, stern and alarming, dressed head to toe in scarlet. And to you, she's utterly recognizable as Bard Lynnell. She doesn't seem to recognize you.

As before, there's plenty of garbage scattered around.

"You," Lynn calls out. "I don't suppose you know what the weight of duty is?"

[mindinthegittern]

[he snaps back without thinking. he's feeling a little frayed okay.]

I don't suppose it weighs about as much as a small child you're about to whisk off without explanation?

[abardacttofollow]

"Suppose it might."

[mindinthegittern]

Can I have that key, then, please?

[abardacttofollow]

"If you can give me the boy who was singing around here, absolutely."

[mindinthegittern]

Well, it's a lot better than leaving him here. I recommend explaining to him that "Valdemar" isn't the name of a procurer, though.

Stef...?

[taking a look around for him]

[abardacttofollow]

[He's not out here. You'll have to go back if you want to get him]

[mindinthegittern]

[well all right heading back to the previous room, being quiet about it]

Stef...?

[abardacttofollow]

He looks up and nods at you, quietly counting coins he's fetching out of his rags.