riverviewlogs | the cult of the inevitable [ OPEN MISSION ]

Entry tags:

the cult of the inevitable [ OPEN MISSION ]

who: Rin

imperceptus; anyone interested in some spooky dungeon delving shenans
what: Investigating the cult, ~~stealing cursed artifacts~~, etc
when: Late October, just before Halloween
where: A creepy ruin in the jungle
warnings: Violence; madness; body horror; spookness; warning for blood + gross in one of the inspo images

ENTRANCE - CLEARING

The clearing is eerily silent and still. No chanting, no incomprehensible thrum of voices, no cries to a distant god. Only curiously thin trees, broken stones, and thick underbrush scattered with various painted artifacts. As the adventuring party approaches, these artifacts become more numerous and strange; some of them look like cracked drinking jugs, others like long, half-rotted staves, others are blunt knives, wooden figurines in a vaguely humanoid shape, and so forth. Most of them are in states of decay, but many of them are encrusted with tiny precious gems--rubies and diamonds, sapphires and emeralds. All of them are smeared with the symbol that Rin described to the network, and all of them emanate a power that makes even those resistant to magic feel uneasy.

This aura acts more profoundly on the surrounding flora and fauna as everyone draws closer to the ruins entrance. The underbrush comes alive: green tendrils snake out to grab at your ankles, to lash your wrists. Critters become hostile, launching themselves at you with reckless abandon. The squirrels are extremely upset. But it's all small fry, and the aura mostly just makes even those with frail constitutions feel a little queasy. No big deal, right? Press on.

FIRST FLOOR - LIBRARY

A crumbled threshold leads down, down, down into the dark. You'll need some light or someone with night vision to safely descend the first set of steps, which are uneven and falling apart. Try not to stumble to your death--or at least, a broken ankle. At the bottom of the steps, there's a poorly kept dirt floor strewn with unidentifiable debris. Heaps of garbage, mysterious stains, bits of old furniture. A few wall sconces light the area, and walking further in reveals a wrecked library. Books are in wobbly stacks, tossed everywhere, their pages ripped out and covered with gibberish scrawling. INEVITABLE INEVITABLE INEVITABLE is written legibly across many of the otherwise ruined pages.

As you walk forward, you see the exit to another staircase ahead--and a group of about half a dozen people in heavy robes, milling about the remains of the library. Muttering to themselves, scratching their necks, chuckling. Their cowls cover their faces, and they don't notice you until you make a sound--and then, suddenly, all eyes are on you.

The cultists attack, using mostly hand-to-hand combat techniques; they also wield long, slender daggers, the kind that fit easily through someone's ribs. But if they catch you staring, they'll stare right back, eyes suddenly glowing a burning green. These are their Entropy Eyes, a spell that causes a number of randomized, negative effects, ranging from mere disorientation to outright--albeit temporary--madness. Those with strong wills can resist the Entropy Eyes; others will find themselves confused, unaccountably hostile, and terribly unsteady on their feet. Everyone will hear whispers in the back of their heads, whispers that fill their guts with dread. The aura felt at the entrance thickens, intensifying symptoms of nausea and dizziness.

Still time to turn back.

SECOND FLOOR - LABORATORY

The laboratory reeks. It's a mix of sour and sweet, of blood and rust, of soil and decay. Shattered beakers are strewn everywhere, as are cages--some empty, some with a reddish muck oozing from between the bars. Unidentifiable piles are scattered throughout; close inspection suggests limbs, teeth, hair. There's a table against one wall, and someone's painted WE ARE SO PARCHED WE ARE SO PARCHED just above a line of flasks, each filled somewhat with a different colored liquid. These liquids can have a variety of effects on their own or mixed together--explosive, burning, mind-addling, gas-producing, etc. They are generally not benign, though.

The only exit is a door covered in esoteric symbols; in its center is not a knob, but a small face with an open jaw and many rows of teeth. The door is painted, too, with the phrase: WE ARE SO HUNGRY WE ARE SO HUNGRY. The mouth is just big enough for a flask, a human hand, or something else of similar size.

And, besides all that, there are the dolls. These are humanoid patchworks, ranging from 5' to 6', each made from assorted parts. They freewheel towards anyone who enters, whimpering; cackling. Some of them mistake you for a loved one, but their embrace is choking; their nails are red-stained claws. Ignoring them will send them into a wailing frenzy, so it's best just to dispatch them as fast as you can.

Once done, you have to decide how to get past that door. It will open for any of the following:

Feeding it a potion mixed from the table

Feeding it part of a doll

Feeding it your own blood/skin/etc

Choice A causes a soft murmuring to run through the back of your mind, something that makes you feel a vague, discomfiting dread, but it's easily ignored.

Choice B causes the same murmuring, accompanied by a savage satisfaction, a feeling of selfish triumph. If you're weak to such suggestion, your paranoia towards your teammates increases slightly--you feel they are there to take something from you, for whatever reason.

Choice C causes a feeling of supreme contentment ... followed by awful, gut-churning terror. Something has you. Something is with you.

Whatever you choose, the door leads to the final descent. Down, down, down into darkness, into a spacious, chilly cave, and here you find ...

BOTTOM FLOOR - CAVERN OF WORSHIP

... the Ascended. These people--creatures, really--turn in unison when a new presence breaches the sanctum. They are horrifying to behold: cultists who have gone through the final rituals of their doctrine, transformed from their previous selves into avatars of suffering and terror. They have no discernible face nor features; instead, their heads are stuck through all over with needles, and blood drips constantly from the wounds. Their bodies are emaciated, their fingers gnarled and full of claws. And, most relevant to you: they're fast. They pull the needles from their heads and lunge, aiming to pierce vital organs--but they'll take whatever they can get, really. When struck, they screech out an unearthly wail that rattles your bones and chills your steps. The floor writhes beneath you as you engage them; the rock shifts and softens, becoming so many squirming, grasping tentacles. These are an illusion, but a powerful one--they will grab you and toss you, but a solid strike to their bases will send them away.

Once you've dealt with the Ascended, you find yourself in front of an enormous statue. Its shape is undefinable, for the most part: it shifts between many forms as you gaze upon it. For a moment it's something Lovecraftian, some many-mouthed beast come to devour the world. Then it's a raven, ominous and silent. Then, a humanoid figure, indeterminate and beautiful, dressed in flowing robes and reaching out to you like a friend, lips parted in a vicious smile. The only stable part of the statue is its center: an enormous, oval shaped ruby shot through with veins of gold. The ruby pulses as though alive, and a pale mist swirls in its center, agitated and alive.

There are words inscribed on a plinth in front of the statue:

In all chaos there is a cosmos, in all disorder a secret order.

The aura now is the thickest it's ever been. No matter your victories, you feel sick, even as the glittering jewel draws your eye. At best, you just want to leave. At worst, you want to strangle everyone around you, then leave. And maybe you want a piece of that jewel, too? It's up to you.

OOC

If you take any treasure/books/etc from this place, you will find they are both very valuable and very dangerous. The longer they are in a character's possession, the more likely they are to eventually cause profoundly negative side effects (dampening of altruism/compassion/empathy, encouragement of anger/jealousy/paranoia/etc). This is especially so for pieces of the jewel, which cannot be kept for more than a day without doing serious damage to one's emotional state.

That said, in general feel free to decide how deeply the magic/horror of this place will affect any individual character--some people are stronger than others, but even strong people can have a good day (and vice versa). Also, there wasn't really any sign-up for this! Feel free to just make up a reason for the character to be here, whether or not they spoke with Rin. It's NBD.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I. THE CLEARING;

[ Rin beckons anyone with him forward as he leads the way into the ruins. Everything is just as he described, outside of the chanting and singing--of which there is noticeably none. If asked about this, he just shrugs--maybe they're all having a nap? And isn't it a good thing not to run into them right away? Really, they should be glad.

He sets about inspecting the various artifacts more closely, examining each one for probably far too long. All the while, that oppressive aura swirls, though for now it's mostly just an irritation to him--something in his periphery, and as yet easily dismissed.

The squirrel chewing on his ankle is another story, however. He yelps, shaking his leg. ]

Ugh--someone stab this thing! What did I bring you people for?

II. THE LABORATORY;

Stand back. I'm an alchemist.

[ He says this with far too much confidence and not a single trace of irony. Never mind the pile of doll corpses (not to mention the other piles of things already long dead), or what they went through on the level above--never mind what waits below. Even so, he looks a little washed out as he sets his hands flat on the table. A little shaken. He's honestly not a fan of necromancy, and especially not this particular brand. But he's not leaving until they've delved this dungeon completely.

A few moments pass. He holds up beaker after beaker, frowning at the liquids inside. Some of them look and smell a little familiar (and, for the most part, awful), but for the most part, he's lost.

Not that he'll let on, though. He pours a little bit of blue in with a little bit of clear and then, grinning back at whoever's still with him, finishes with just a drop of orange.

There's a fizzing noise, a popping noise, and then a sound like a gunshot. Rin steps back, clutching his now burned hand, scowling. The mixture, however, bubbles happily in its beaker. ]

Well, it was kind of a success. Let's just feed the door and move on.

[ But is that mix even safe to pick up?? ]

III. THE CAVERN;

[ Rin's tried to avoid outright fighting for most of this excursion. He didn't put on the damsel act in front of the network just so he could come in here and do actual work, after all. But even he's feeling the effects of this place now, the whispers in the back of his mind--telling him he'll fail, telling him he'll be betrayed and left for dead. Some part of him knows this is magic, this is outside influence, this is not rational thinking. But he has plenty of irrationality to prey upon, and he cannot escape this corrosive spell forever.

As such, he's vicious with the Ascended, fighting with unhinged ferocity: he wrenches their skinny wrists, he takes their needles and shoves back into their breastbones, he kicks them when they're down. And, once they're down, he plunges one of his own daggers into their hearts, not stopping until his attacker isn't moving anymore.

It isn't out of sudden bravado. On the contrary, it's clear from a close look that he's entirely motivated by fear. Once the fighting's done, he leans against the statue, heaving, his hands bloody, his jaw tight. He takes a gore-caked dagger from one of the bodies on the floor and sets its tip against the pulsing heart. ]

I'm taking a piece.

[If he's being honest, Taako didn't buy Rin's damsel act for a second but the sheer level of violence here is a little disconcerting and yet still, somehow, not surprising. He does his best to keep an eye on Rin throughout the scuffle, occasionally sending a helpful spell his way, but things get messy a little while in and Taako loses track. It isn't until it's all over and he's a little bit bloodied (his HP is just real low) that he looks for Rin again.

And is immediately concerned when he sees Rin go for the ruby, enough to actually jog the rest of the way over.]

Rin, darling, you know I love a bit of bling as much as the next dude, but even I've gotta admit this looks super bad. It's giving me some serious heebie-jeebies, I think we should wreck this shit, not take it home.

[ Rin's driving the bloodied point of a dagger into the ruby, and if it'd been anyone else but Taako, he would've kept right on keeping on. As it stands, he pauses, though he's still scowling. His head throbs. His clothes are a mess. And he had to fight. ]

I came all this way. I did all this work. I'm not leaving empty-handed.

I get it, I do, but please trust your magic guy on this when he's saying that thing feels all kinds of wrong.

[What's the point of bringing a wizard along if Rin doesn't trust him to know what he's talking about with this kind of thing. That ruby is super cursed.]

[ He stews angrily, his knife pressed against a vein of gold. Despite his insistence otherwise, he's a magic guy too--and he knows damn well that this rock is the baddest of bad news. ]

Maybe so. Bet a chunk of it would still sell for a pretty penny.

This place is too fucking small for that and you know it, you sell someone cursed shit and they're not gonna be happy with you once they've figured it out.

[There's no point making a morality argument here, because Taako wouldn't care about that shit either, but Rin is smart and he's good merchant, selling bad wares only gets you so far if you can't run, afterwards.]

[ Yeah, that's a good point. Rin draws his knife down the gem, cutting a superficial line into it, scowling as bits of it chip off and clink on the ground. ]

Well, I'm used to people being unhappy with me.

[ It's pure petulance, and he doesn't know why he's continuing at this point. He's aimlessly frustrated, addled. He feels eroded and irritated, like his mind's been rubbed raw. ]

rin | ota

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