With notes of concern coming from above... or where ever their handlers are, Greyrose instead focuses on the puzzle, and prism in hand, gently inserts it into the device, the anticipation palpable like dust in these mausoleums of chambers. There is immediately a hum, and light emits from the prism before quickly disappearing, headed towards the finer of the bedrooms. The image in the prism swirls, and reveals the storage room... exactly as it is, lights on. Sending people ahead to that room, nothing changes, the lights on revealing nothing new. So the puzzle continues. Not letting irritation come in, Greyrose begins to ponder the efficacy of the device and the arcane practice of it, while the brains of his companions similarly dance. Strangely, it is the most martially inclined of them that accidentally offers up an answer, Hrotha leaning on the light switch of the room the device is in which turns off the lights of the greater bedroom: the image in the prism immediately disappears. Immediately a light switches in their heads: the lighting affects the puzzle! For the device to show its final destination, the lights of at least the bar and larger bedroom must be on: but then what about the storage room? Experimenting with lights and having memorized the schema of light switches and lights, they manage to get the lights off in the storage room but on in the greater bedroom and bar. Then, Greyrose, looking through the device and his companions in the storage room, see the puzzle's fruits: five stones in the fresco light up. Though in the room itself the lit stones are indistinguishable, Greyrose can see a clear order to them. Yelling across the rooms, he indicates which ones to press, and Armen and Myrthe lead the effort carefully following his instructions. The final button, the fresco stone showing the seal of Taldor on the general's armor, clicks when pressed, and his face pops open, revealing a chamber within, and a bag besides. Armen takes the bag, and empties its contents into Myrthe's hands: coins! Not like any coins they've seen, these gold coins lack standard marking but instead have a seal, of an older heraldic style than the ones currently used in Taldor. As the group reconvenes, everyone recalls in the greater of the bedrooms a hole in the wall, just the right size for a coin. There are ten coins in general, enough for every one of them and more. But what does it do? There's only one way to find out.

Greyrose takes the long way around to the room with the crystal ball in the cabinet, taking a moment to show the glass prism in case they wished to witness whatever would happen once he inserted it into the crystal ball he had discovered earlier. This gives him a moment to reach out with his senses, looking for psychic impressions left upon the device. Once everyone who is going to has gathered, he hesitates before the orb, his signature theatrical flairs of movement aiding the building of anticipation before he gently inserts the prism....

Lady Myrthe AC: 19 | Fort: +4 | Ref: +10 | Will: +8 HP: 22 / 22 | Hero Points: 0 / 3 | Perception: +8 ConditionsNone Solving riddles and puzzles has never been a strong suit of Lady Myrthe - besides the schemes of nobles - and the Forlorn seems to drift between Lady Martella's agents as they work towards finding the answer that would get them out of this place. Since they've circumnavigated the whole of this safehouse, Lady Morilla's aide appears less wary of attack, hands no longer hovering in the vicinity of her blades. Her keen eyes follow the actions of her companions as they slowly gather their answers and narrow as she feels the grinding sound of achievement. The desire to reunite with her Lady has not diminished in the slightest despite her calm demeanor, and she immediately shifts to move in the direction she heard the sound - but finds herself nearly colliding with Armen once more as he rounds the corner, still inspecting the place. "Have you heard from your patroness? It sounds as though she and Martella made it out." Myrthe looks up at Armen, remaining in his space for a few heartbeats longer than one might after such a breach of conduct. He has learned enough of the subtle tells in her dour expressions to know she continues to feel an urgency to escape this place. Their delay has cost them so much time and potentially life. "Yes," she answers simply, stepping back and beginning to drift in the direction he had been going, as if to accompany. For a moment, it seems like that is all she has to say on the matter, until she looks over her shoulder and murmurs, "My Lady says the Society got them out, but she has been separated from your sister..." Despite the difficulty of some of the Lotheed family personalities, Myrthe had always been quietly fond of Martella, from a distance. Her chest aches to make sure she is found safely as much as Gloriana - both personally and professionally. "I must get to Westpark... though I do not know where Martella will be."

| Human Bard/Cathartic Mage 2 HP 26/26 | AC 17 | Fort +5 | Ref +6 | Will +8 | Perception +8 | Hero Points 1 Focus Points 3/3 | Spell Slots (1st - 2/3) | Class DC 18 Martella's updates are a welcome distraction from the tedium of searching the bunker. It's also amusing to Armen that his sister clearly remembered her brooches are one-way communication devices; she must have been rather frazzled during the initial conflict. Of course, if the military is split between loyalties, that's likely a recipe for a civil war. It had been awhile since Taldan had suffered one of those. (At times in the nation's past, they'd been quite common, happening almost every time a ruler died.) The thought of such senseless slaughter at the behest of a couple of paranoid reactionaries makes Armen feel glum and melancholy. It's human nature, of course, to bicker and brawl over stupid and senseless things that will never matter in the long run. Perhaps he's a fool for letting himself care about Eutropia and her cause. Perhaps he should just go back to work on his magnum opus once they find their way out of here. What's the point of participating in this war? Even if Eutropia prevails, will the positive changes and reforms she makes balance out the pain and grief necessary to put her on the throne in the first place? His brain is distracted pondering these thoughts while his body continues working, running fingers over the walls and the corners of every piece of furniture he comes across. He doesn't realize he's sharing space with Myrthe again until he nearly walks into her. "Oh, uh, hello," he says, shaken abruptly out of his thoughts. "Have you heard from your patroness? It sounds as though she and Martella made it out."

They begin their quest to find out what exactly is going on and how they can get out of this strange rectangular mess. Greyrose leads the charge with Armen behind him, the others helping as they can in a casual way. Early in the search, a message comes down to the bunch wearing Martella's senatorial aide badges, with Morilla giving her own message to Myrthe. If that does not spur them to action, unfortunately whatever they had hoped to accomplish quickly prevents them from getting too far. Searching becomes an hours long process, meticulously going through each room: the Social Room where the device was found, going through each crate and cask, each shelf and each section; the dormitory, under each bed; the storage room in each crate and in the mural yet again, the Fourth Exploratory Army standing firm in their minds. As they head into the primary bedchamber, another message comes through. The books in the primary bedroom are, in a world, decrepit. Many fall apart as soon as they are opened, given they come off the shelf at all, but with each passing message, it seems more desperate up above. While the others scour the rest of the room, Greyrose and Armen go through the books, and both note a recurring theme: the Fourth Army of Exploration is a recurring theme, with books dating to near the event itself, suggesting this library was created at the latest a few centuries after the event, rather than the distant millennia from where they stand now. Finally, on the fourth hour, Greyrose finds what they're looking for. In a book entitled "On the Failures of the Fourth Army: Exploration or Exploitation?" by Flavius Fangburnes, the entire middle section of the book has been cut out and a glass prism, exactly the size of the missing section of the device, hides within. As they head back to the device, restless and ready, another message comes in for all but Myrthe. Good news, at least: Eutropia stands. but why were Martella and Morilla separated from her when they were so close in the Senate chamber? Whatever the answer to that, Greyrose places the glass prism in the device; and there comes a noise like a machine starting. And nothing obvious happens. Gods, what now? Out of Character Not updating the map, huzzah, progress!

| Human Bard/Cathartic Mage 2 HP 26/26 | AC 17 | Fort +5 | Ref +6 | Will +8 | Perception +8 | Hero Points 1 Focus Points 3/3 | Spell Slots (1st - 2/3) | Class DC 18 Visualizing the space they're in and acting on a hunch, Armen moves to the little chamber between the dormitory and the storage room and begins investigating the walls there for any secret buttons or switches or pressure plates or what have you. After all, if one were building a presumably underground bunker, why would you dig out more stone than you absolutely needed to? Why have all this empty space in the middle of the complex? As he searches, he hums to himself, that could potentially aid the efforts of his companions in their own searches. OOC I moved Armen on Roll20, and he'll be doing a Search action (Perception +7) in this li'l corridor down south. He'll also be using Uplifting Overture to potentially Aid anyone else rolling Perception within 60' of him.

So, the key he originally discovered in the southern dormatory opened something in the mess hall. It stood to reason, then, that the ornate key that Myrthe found near the sofa would open something found in the storage room. Greyrose called out the switch-changes necessary to illuminate that room (ideally, the combination of switches that would illuminate all four rooms from wherever Armen left off) as he made his way around to the storage room to search through the dusty boxes and stone tiles looking for a keyhole... or any other detail they might have overlooked in their initial shock from Ka's dramatic appearance.

Backtracking and playing with the lights, Armen's flicking of the light affects the bar room Greyrose and Ka find themselves in, as well as the lofty bedroom. In the door that Ka came from, he finds nothing of note: simply a smaller bath than the one in the finer bedroom, a washing basin, and nothing of note, except footsteps that must belong to Ka. What a strange place. Greyrose, meanwhile, looks around the room and with key in hand, begins using the keys to search the bar-like area, with Ka helping him as she takes immense pleasure in the strange buzzing on and off created by Armen's flicking of the lights. Behind the bar is an area with a locked cabinet, which the smaller, simpler key does in fact fit to. Turning the lock, there is no trap, nothing to fear, but he opens it and within he sees, mounted into the wall, what can only be described as an incomplete crystal ball. Circular and glittering, what makes it incomplete is a hollow in what is the ball's top, facing directly towards him. With this piece, the device could be activated, judging from the way it would fit in and lock: but now, it is just a simple oddity in the wall. Searching the room, he and Ka also find a wand beneath the bar, the wooden handle covered in dust and displaying a scene of revelry with much food and drink, and a strange spoon, wide in the basin with a flower on the end. Magic? Almost certainly. The puzzle continues to grow: but where is the missing part? Out of Character Let's get some investigation going on each room; bear in mind this will take time. Whoever succeeds, I'll have you roll the hours involved.

Ka HP: 26/26 | AC: 18 | Fort: +7 Ref: +8 Will: +6 | H-Points: 1 | Alt Languages: Azlanti, Osiriani, Ancient Osiriani, Varisian Ka flips the switch once, then quirks her head to one side, like a curious puppy. She flips the switch again. Then, she does it again. She repeats the motion repeatedly for a full fifteen seconds before commenting on it, all the while still flipping the switch back and forth. “An odd contraption; I feel myself compelled to activate it. Both I and the Shape derive an inexplicable pleasure from hearing the soft click of its activation.” The masked woman’s gold-rimmed eyes narrow at the device, as if suspecting some sort of foul play. Unable to stop herself, she flips the switch one last time before huffing in annoyance and skulking across the room to keep an eye out for danger. Whatever the man ‘Greyrose’ was thinking, he seemed to have a handle on the situation. “It is not a rarity to have puzzles and traps built into Osirion architecture. This appears less perfect in its design, yet still similar in its purpose. The answer will be contained within these rooms. What does your mind conjure, Grey Flower?”

| Human Bard/Cathartic Mage 2 HP 26/26 | AC 17 | Fort +5 | Ref +6 | Will +8 | Perception +8 | Hero Points 1 Focus Points 3/3 | Spell Slots (1st - 2/3) | Class DC 18 Myrthe's departure leaves Armen alone to stew in his thoughts. He stands there, idly pretending to examine the wall for awhile as he regains control of his emotional state. Now isn't the time for mooning over lost love. They're trapped in a dungeon. The Princess may still be in danger. They need to get out of here. When Ka begins testing the switches to see which rooms they illuminate, Armen quietly heads off into the barracks room to the southwest. "On!" he calls when the light turns on. "Off!" when it goes dark. He wanders over to the unopened door in the southeast corner of the room and presses his ear against it. Assuming he doesn't hear anythingPerception roll at +7 on the other side, he opens it to see what lies beyond.

It does not require a Greyrose to notice how dissimilar the two keys they discovered were. Unless magic was involved, they did not belong to the same lock. That means the key he found when they first arrived wasn't the backup for the second key they found. Perhaps there was a third key somewhere? Or perhaps the first key could be used in the same room where they found the note - although he has yet to spot any keyholes. He continues to follow Ka into the final room, completing his initial patrol of the area and confirming there were no obvious exits. There is, however, a lock on the cabinet in that last room. Greyrose holds both keys near the keyhole to try to determine if one of them might fit, while he admires the craftsmanship of the cabinet and places one hand on its surface, looking for strong psychic impressions left behind. OOC Greyrose also has Trap Finder, so he should automatically get a (secret) Perception check to notice traps, so while he might seem kind of cavalier about trying random keys on locks, he will pause if he senses the 'vibes are off'.

Ka heads onwards, stealthily, others in tow behind her stealth. The door shows no resistance as she strides in, and nothing but dust reacts to her as light spills in from the room behind her. A wooden counter juts from the northwest corner of this thirty-foot-by-thirty-foot chamber. Open cabinets of dusty liquor bottles stand behind the bar, while one cabinet remains tightly sealed with a visible lock. Three tables with adjacent chairs fill much of the room. Portraits of posing nobles and historical scenes adorn the walls, all faded with age. Doors exit to the southMap has an error. I'll let you lot discuss it, it won't really be important if you can go between B1 and B2, the puzzle works all the same. and east. She finds the switch by the door; touching, the lights in the primary bedroom the rest of the group is in flicker off, then on again as she flips the switch again. From the other's vantage point, the points in no other room are affected. Ka is distracted, however, and finds nothing of note beyond dusty liquor. Out of Character Alright, official chart of the lights and how they affect things. "Affected" here means lights turn on or off; if they're on, they turn off. So rooms have a reactive nature with one another. How you lot proceed in this odd circle is entirely up to you. Room Lights Affected B1/Bunk Room (original room) B2 and B3 B2/Parlor (room Ka is in) B3 B3/Primary Bedroom (room party is in) B2 and B4 B4/Storage Room B1 and B2

Ka HP: 26/26 | AC: 18 | Fort: +7 Ref: +8 Will: +6 | H-Points: 1 | Alt Languages: Azlanti, Osiriani, Ancient Osiriani, Varisian Ka feels that she has explained herself enough; if the Half-orc ‘Hrotha’ wants to keep an eye on the Shape, then she will follow. The masked woman looks towards Greyrose as he points out something of importance and she notes that he speaks of the fresco. However, to Ka’Mhet, there is little of importance in relics of the past — even if she is one herself. What matters more is securing the rooms around them to ensure they are not ambushed. So, without a word, Ka drops into a low skulk and pushes into the next room, keen golden eyes searching the environment for enemies, a clue, or an exit, whichever jumps out at her first. Mechanics Ka is going to go stealthy as she enters the next room. Then she will search around if able. Lastly, if there are no enemies or other surprises, she will specifically look for a “light switch” on the wall, and flip it a couple of times to see what happens.

Greyrose looks at the new key and holds out the other to compare them. Based on the message, it makes sense that the key he found, initially, was the backup, but the backup to what? What was so important down here that a spare key needed to be hidden on the opposite side of the chamber. Also, it was somewhat unsatisfying to discover that the first key was entirely unnecessary because the primary key was right where it was supposed to be. The lights gave him the same uneasy feeling. There was a puzzle here but for what purpose? Switches that turn on the lights in other rooms? Surely someone did this for a reason. It serves no practical purpose other than to slow them down... but why were they even here?

Lady Myrthe AC: 19 | Fort: +4 | Ref: +10 | Will: +8 HP: 22 / 22 | Hero Points: 0 / 3 | Perception: +8 ConditionsNone "You could have said something. Anything. I thought... I thought you had just gotten tired of me." Brushing the crumbling remains of ancient tomes from her hands daintily, Myrthe turns to look at the tall bard and holds Armen's gaze with her usual, impassive expression... except that the brow furrows at the sound of hurt in his voice again. He turns to go before words are able to find her voice, taking the light with him, and she lets out a long breath. There was just too much to explain. And yet, at the same time, it was very simple. Words were going to need to be had before the rift was truly going to be mended. In the diminishing light, she holds up the key she had found on the side table by the bed, studying the pattern of its teeth. "Master Greyrose," she finally speaks, voice low and dust-choked. "What are the chances we hold the same key, in duplicate?" She holds it up, shifting after the dying light so the man can retrieve said 'backup' and compare it to the one in her hands. As he nears, she murmurs, "I do not pretend to understand the nature of this... symbiosis... that speaks on behalf of your companion." Her stormy gaze turns to follow the shifting shadows and silhouettes through the corridor into the next room. "But if your ministrations require a steady hand, I will not waver in assisting you, sir. I do not know this woman as the others do and I fear they will quail at doing what is necessary." A short nod is granted Greyrose before she turns to follow the group. Once she is in the other room, her voice returns. "Lords and Ladies, please be ware of any keyholes you might find. We now have a key and a spare to find a home for."

Much happens as Greyrose begins to inspect the fresco, finding that there is much more than meets the eye. Yet despite this, he can make no more of it here, and concludes this is a puzzle that requires multiple steps, likely in other rooms. By the way things are going, it appears as if the rooms are set up in a square-like pattern: what's connected to open the way here? The lights? The key he found? If so, where's the keyhole in this fresco? Or does this take him somewhere else? Whatever the case, he follows the group into the next room, where a spirited debate of forgiveness, names, and finding a way out of this mess manifests between the others. At least Greyrose isn't getting distracted with something as inconsequential as identity and broken hearts when getting out alive is at stake. Or maybe things aren't as dire as he thinks. The third room the group explores is perhaps the most pleasant, giving them a sense that they are not in a deathly labyrinth but a place of something akin to comfort. From Armen's description of the Fourth Army of Exploration, it's clear the books on the shelves are on the same subject: whoever's room this was clearly had a taste for that particularly topic. Books look weathered, as if not touched in perhaps centuries, and more than half decay at a touch. It takes two books for Myrthe to suss this out, and shortly after, she notices above the bath a hanging scroll, faded but still legible. Greyrose sees it too, and together they read in plain Taldane: "Fourth bed from the north. Comforter. Backup key.” Immediately Greyrose realizes this is the key he found in the first room they explored. While Ka is too distracted discussing names, culture, and metaphysics, Myrthe continues her search. A large golden key, marred by dust but little else, sits on the circular table beside the sofa chair. It is much larger and much finer than the one Greyrose found: what do they unlock? Greyrose, from a glance, can tell that for the books that survive, it would take hours to go through them all: but would it be worth it? With the light on in this room, and with a light switch that remains untouched as of yet, what secrets do the magical lights hold in this place? Out of Character Research options galore! Or we continue onward.

Greyrose spends quite a bit more attention to the fresco then the rest of the rooms they explore. While he stays out of the debate between Ka and Hrotha, the half-orc catches Greyrose eye a couple of times making it clear that he is tracking the movements, words, and deeds of the strange spirit currently holding their friend's corporal body hostage. He had let their initial encounter go unchallenged - and he truly does believe Ka thinks of their possession as symbiotic rather than parasitic - but he has decided to reserve his judgement. For the time being, Lorelei was safe and if Ka was telling the truth as soon as they are safe they will be able to confirm Lorelei's consent. "This is important." Greyrose says, simply, drawing other's attention to the fresco before they continue on. Tethered, metaphorically, to Armen's magical light, Greyrose follows him into the hallway, although he give he and Myrthe plenty of space to have a private conversation. Or, at least, he appeared to pay them no more mind than he did Hrotha and Ka. Instead, his attention seemed focused on their surroundings and he was routinely distracted by seemingly insignificant details - scratches in the masonry, abstract shapes in the wood of the door, repeated patterns in the disturbed dust and cobwebs as they make their way further ....

| Human Bard/Cathartic Mage 2 HP 26/26 | AC 17 | Fort +5 | Ref +6 | Will +8 | Perception +8 | Hero Points 1 Focus Points 3/3 | Spell Slots (1st - 2/3) | Class DC 18 Armen nearly jumps out of his skin when the masked woman appears behind him. He whips around, staring at her in surprise and confusion. “You think yourself so charismatic," she tells him, "yet you cannot even wrap your tongue around my name. Ka…Mhet. Ka’Mhet. It is not this ‘comet’.” Armen's mouth opens and closes a few times. He actually doesn't think he's very charismatic, but that's not something he wants to announce in front of Myrthe. Or Lori, for that matter. Or Hrotha... or Iris. In fact, Greyrose is probably the only person here he'd be comfortable admitting that to, primarily because the man already knows him well enough to have picked up on that insecurity. He watches silently as Ka'Mhet and Hrotha begin to walk away and falls into step beside Myrthe as they advance. The elven woman's next words surprise him, and he looks at her. As hard as she is to read, he thinks he sees sincerity in her eyes. She didn't abandon me by choice, then. And that simple realization is enough to shift his entire perspective on the situation between them. He always knew how committed she was to the Morilla family. Of course her duty to them would have come before any feelings she may or may not have had for him. He sighs and looks away. "You could have said something. Anything. I thought... I thought you had just gotten tired of me." After a moment, he looks back at Myrthe, searching her face for any of the subtle signs of emotion she could never quite suppress. Then he raises his glowing violin bow and turns to follow Hrotha and Ka further into the well-appointed labyrinth they've been trapped in.

Lady Myrthe AC: 19 | Fort: +4 | Ref: +10 | Will: +8 HP: 22 / 22 | Hero Points: 0 / 3 | Perception: +8 ConditionsNone While Ka and Hrotha speak, Myrthe goes quiet. She holds the masked woman's gaze for as long as she stares, apparently equal in their ability to regard someone with a bit of discomfort. The nod of seeming approval earns a slight quirk of an eyebrow from the elf, who 'hms' quietly as she walks away. She does not attempt to stand between the half-orc and her curiosity - especially because it's clear she is worried the soul of her friend is at stake here. Once they continue forward, the dark-haired woman listens to the curious description of this... symbiosis?... and turns that vexed look to Armen. A brief shake of her head sways that ponytail back and forth once and she picks up where he last spoke. "I will not. Not now. And I am grieved that it happened the way it did before," she murmurs, holding his gaze for a beat longer than might be normal. Taking a deep breath, she circles the bed and follows Ka/Lori's path of searching the room... not that she doesn't trust her, but that a second set of eyes is always valuable. It also serves as time for her to weigh what she is about to say next. Lady Morilla wouldn't be pleased but... no. No, she shouldn't. "There is much you do not know and more I am not permitted to speak of, Armen. In time, perhaps. And if your trust in me can be mended."

Ka HP: 26/26 | AC: 18 | Fort: +7 Ref: +8 Will: +6 | H-Points: 1 | Alt Languages: Azlanti, Osiriani, Ancient Osiriani, Varisian Ka does not stop moving until Hrotha declares that she is not to leave her sight, at which point she turns to regard the Half-Orc with an emotionless stare, one that is noticeably angled upwards due to the height difference. She is silent through all of the questions…just watching. When the onslaught ends, Ka merely turns and continues her search through the room. A long time passes without a response, perhaps giving the indication that she will not answer. But eventually, she does respond, although without looking back to Hrotha. “The one you refer to as ‘Lori’ is safe, and her return will be marked by the absence of danger. I could tell you that, even now, She begs that you allow me to do this. She holds great fear in this heart. Yet, I suspect that you will think me deceitful.” She goes silent and her search is, to put it lightly, ineffective, perhaps due to the distraction or perhaps for other reasons. She speaks again after a short while, “Would you speak of the event of your own conception? Would you tell the tale of the moment you slipped from between your mother’s legs? Why should I speak of my origin?” Ka finally turned and stared at Hrotha once more. “I will answer your first query. I am the will of the one who dons me. What this Shape wants,” One of her hands exits the cloak and motions to her body before slipping back beneath the cover. “I will enact in Her stead. We are allies. My presence gives power to the Shape, and the Shape gives me purpose. I hold great gratitude that the Shape is lithe and quick. I can use this to channel my own abilities. But I am neither spirit nor ghost. I am Ka. I am the Will. Within this shape, I am Justice.”

HP: 30/30 | AC: 16 (18 arm/20 shl) | Fort: +7 Ref: +6 Will: +6 | H-Points: 1 | F-Points: 0 | Langs: Common, Orc, Celestial Current Conditions: None Active Abilities: None Uncovering Secrets "Comet. Ka'Mhet. " Hrotha wants so badly to roll her eyes and sigh exaggeratedly, possibly follow up with a pointed 'who asked?' but she can't make it happen. She's been on the wrong end of the name pronunciation gaffe too often. Hor-tha. Sometimes Ho-ra-tha. Always the correction...Ra-tha...and the polite dismissal but the mispronunciations persist. Annoyance at that parallel draws a grunt-growl from her throat as she watches the woman step away and shoots a look in Armen's direction, shrugging away her confusion. "Hey, slow it up." She starts forward after Ka'Mhet, working to match stride with the smaller woman. "You leave my sight the moment Lori comes back and tells me you're worth trusting." Hrotha had been chewing over the strange body-snatcher's words since she'd stalked off in a huff. Noble brute, regardless of the intended context, was so frequent a cut that the scars never heal. What she'd heard after that seemed to be some sort of circuitous apology, but her blood was too hot to acknowledge it. The half-orc isn't willing to take this Ka'Mhet at their word while it is hijacking her friend and that meant keeping a close eye on her, but that didn't mean she had to be unpleasant about it. Tapping the halberd against her shoulder, she looks the woman over again with every effort to focus on the threat potential. "To put a knife like that to use you need to get in close. You turned down the leather so you have to be fast." The line of reasoning brings her along the path to the obvious conclusion, an issue of concern that she quickly gives voice to. "But that's not your body, is it? How does that work? That body has no experience in a fight." And now the train has left the station, and the words just keep coming. "And did you have a body before? Are you a ghost or a spirit?" She is unclear on the difference but she's certain she's heard there is one. Likely from Greyrose. OOC Details

Ka HP: 26/26 | AC: 18 | Fort: +7 Ref: +8 Will: +6 | H-Points: 1 | Alt Languages: Azlanti, Osiriani, Ancient Osiriani, Varisian Golden rings peer from the darkness as Ka slinks through the shadows as a passive observer, keeping her keen ears perked and alert to whichever conversations are not completely whispered. She knows these people do not trust her, and those who have become aware of the shape she has taken as a vessel’s condition are even more wary of her. But this is no matter. They will come to accept it once they see her goals in action. For now, she does not need their trust; she only needs to know that they will not attempt to kill her. And that the Investigator one — Greyrose — does not try to oust her from Her body. Ka moves towards the Lordly man — ‘Armen’, She tells her — and walks mostly silently up behind him. Her steps are not as quiet as usual, but the young Jester is so enraptured by the Elf that he still does not hear her arrival. She quickly butts her way into the conversation with words spoken in monotone, directly behind him “It is truth. One cannot be certain of what a ‘madwoman with knives and animal masks’ might be capable of.” If he turns to face her he would see that she is not glaring at him, but merely has her head cocked upwards, staring with those haunting gilded irises down the bridge of the jackal mask’s nose with an appraising expression. The ambient light dances across the golden necklace draped around her neck. “You think yourself so charismatic, yet you cannot even wrap your tongue around my name. Ka…Mhet. Ka’Mhet. It is not this ‘comet’.” Her eyes shift to Lady Myrthe and she stares for a long moment before finally nodding subtly. Her cloak billows slightly as she turns and enters further into the room, allowing the two to finish their conversation as she, for once, takes the lead in investigating the new space.

HP: 30/30 | AC: 16 (18 arm/20 shl) | Fort: +7 Ref: +6 Will: +6 | H-Points: 1 | F-Points: 0 | Langs: Common, Orc, Celestial Current Conditions: None Active Abilities: None Uncovering Secrets "Respect. " It is a muttered sentiment in response to Comet's stated goal to avoid being struck, one that barely crosses her teeth as she makes a circuit of the group with the armor on offer. If everyone refuses the protection, she will work the formed leather over her own party outfit and hope the light material can at least fend off a claw or knife should such a thing arise. As people gather and claim their share from the found materials, Hrotha corners Greyrose in a very real way. Off to the side of the room away from the fresco where so many seem to have turned their interest. "What the hells is going on?" These words are also hushed, but hissed through gritted teeth in a fashion that makes plain her displeasure. "That is not Lori. Is it a ghost?" It seems unlikely that any explanation, no matter how true, is going to appease Hrotha here. Something stealing her friend's body is simply not a turn of events she is prepared to accept. But Greyrose is the only person she knows who could even begin to have an inkling about what it all means besides Comet itself, and she sure ain't posing the question to them. "I don't like this. Tell me you have some kind of plan for when Lori-Comet turns on us?" The obvious plan would involve the halberd and a solid thrust into something soft and vital, but that's not an option the half-orc is willing to consider. Catching Iris as the elf moves past, she holds out one of the daggers that they dug from the boxes. Anyone can use a knife, right? "Just in case?" With her concerns declared, though hardly satisfied, she motions for Greyrose to stick close as the group collectively moves toward the exit. This approach puts her square in the middle of Armen and Myrthe's conversation, which she does everything she can to appear disinterested in. Staring ahead in the dark, putting her back to them, all the while longing to hear someone spill the tea. Only the mention of her name brings her to drop the facade. "Hmm? Oh, yeah. All orc in the eyes, I am." She looks between the two of them, then shrugs as she lets the halberd rest on her shoulders again. "Of course, if anything has made a home of this place it is probably as good in the dark as we are." How long? Hundreds of years? Maybe thousands if Armen's talk is right. The way her words structured themselves strikes humorous in her mind, given how likely these two are to be familiar with each other in the dark. "Fighting in the dark, I mean. Not...yeah, nevermind." OOC Details

| Human Bard/Cathartic Mage 2 HP 26/26 | AC 17 | Fort +5 | Ref +6 | Will +8 | Perception +8 | Hero Points 1 Focus Points 3/3 | Spell Slots (1st - 2/3) | Class DC 18 "I thought I was the madwoman with knives." "Yes, but you don't have an animal mask. Crucial distinction." "She... is one of yours, no? The pretty one with the red hair...?" Myrthe asks. "I would say I approve, were it not for this... curious division." Armen looks at her, confused... and then it finally hits him. The glimpses of red hair. The references to some mysterious She who "bestowed her Shape." Armen gapes, then turns back to look in the direction of Comet and the others. "Wait, that's...? What?" Bloody hells, has Miss Albrecht been possessed?! He hardly hears Myrthe's next words, so wrapped up in his sudden swell of concern for Lorelei. What had happened to her? Had the spell that teleported them done this? No, he thinks. He remembers how she was fighting in the moments before they were spirited away. This thing, this Comet, had already taken control of her by that point. To protect her? To mete out justice against those who turned their blades on Princess Eutropia? She's an ally, then. But that doesn't sit well with Armen. He may not know Lorelei Albrecht especially well, but he appreciates her intelligence, her courage in stepping so far out of her boundaries of comfort in the name of a worthy cause, and, of course, her undeniably appealing physical attributes. He doesn't like the idea of this strange spirit, ally though it might be, controlling her body. And forcing her to wear things that he's fairly certain Lori wouldn't choose to be seen in if one held a knife to her throat. "There are people of great importance to us, Armentarius," Myrthe says quietly, the words bringing him back to the present. "That need caring for, whether they know it, desire it, or not. I cannot fail... not again." "That's why you shouldn't rush off alone," Armen says. He considers stepping forward and putting a hand on her shoulder... but no. The wounds there are much too raw. "Those counting on us need us to return alive, and our best chance of that is to work together. Let Hrotha scout beside you; she can see in the dark even better than you can, you know." He hesitates a moment before adding. "I don't want you to disappear again."

Lady Myrthe AC: 19 | Fort: +4 | Ref: +10 | Will: +8 HP: 22 / 22 | Hero Points: 0 / 3 | Perception: +8 ConditionsNone The conversation behind Myrthe recedes into distorted echoes through the narrow passageway she quietly trods. The next doorway seems to lead to the "master's" chamber - whomever that might have been - still furnished in anticipation of someone's arrival after however many years. It's possible she is even familiar, for as long as she has served in this place... depending on the longevity of the bloodline, that is. She remains in the doorway, the glimmer of light only revealing so much. And then the grey begins to spread as the light bobs along in her wake, telltale of Armentarius following her footsteps. Her head turns, the rare view of her pale, bare neck and dark hair pulled up in a ponytail something only he, and perhaps a few others, has seen. Very casual, for Lady Myrthe. Or very distressed. She looks sidelong as he arrives beside her and speaks. "I thought I was the madwoman with knives," she muses, turning her cloudy gaze back toward the barely-visible Ka... or whoever. "She... is one of yours, no? The pretty one with the red hair...?" Myrthe may have been occupied by remaining at Lady Morilla's - and by extension, Princess Eutropia's - side, but her keen gaze had not missed the once-or-twice close interactions between the tall bard and the scholar. "I would say I approve, were it not for this... curious division." Now that the light reveals more, she moves forward on silent boots until she can lay a gauntlet upon the old dressings of the bed. "My Lady informs me that your sister is in hysterics over your disappearance - though she, too, seems similarly distressed over mine. She reports that the Princess' life is at stake, which is cause for both concern and impatience with this confounded tomb we have found ourselves in. There are-" The oft-dispassionate elf stops, clenching down on what seems to be a glimmer of emotion - anger, anxiety, panic - and takes a slow breath. "There are people of great importance to us, Armentarius," she murmurs again, not looking back at him now. "That need caring for, whether they know it, desire it, or not. I cannot fail... not again."