Steps in the Dark
Seventh Day of the Tenth Month 293 AC
Ser Richard Lonmouth was long accustomed to the position he was in at the moment, descending the steps of yet another keep, looking for monsters, and following the gleam of some lost trinket or shard of old lore. That did not mean he particularly
enjoyed having the rightful heiress to the King not half a step behind him, or that he would not have preferred knowing her safe in the Deep pouring over old books, but if there was one thing the knight had learned over the last four years it was the need to pick his battles. Even that half-step's distance had been hard argued.
"Nothing again," the princess sighed in frustration as she dusted herself off, sending a veritable storm of dust motes through the cellar and over the old oak casks. Ser Justin had tried to argue against her going down on hands and knees to look for openings, but all he had gotten for his troubles was a lecture on how being smaller helped one get into tight places more easily.
"Perhaps our foe has no need of any common door to enter the keep," Mereth offered.
Richard grimaced, not at the suggestion, it was sensible enough, but at the prospect of it being true. If they were dealing with something that could will itself from one place to another, then it could run with a stray thought and come back to ambush them just as easily. For that matter there was nothing stopping it from going right to the keep above and slaughtering everyone. The knight had no illusions about the ability of Massey armsmen to fight off a monster that could kill with a look.
"Wait a moment,
there..." Dany pointed. "Push that cask out of the way, please."
Clegane was the first one to put his shoulder to the task, but Ser Justin was just a moment slower. With a reluctant creak, the cask moved to reveal what seemed at first nothing but another patch of dusty floor, but Daenerys clearly saw better than them with spell-blessed eyes. She twisted a hidden latch to open a trap door to a tunnel not quite five-and-a-half feet high and sloping down into the dark.
"I'm guessing that shouldn't be there," Richard said to the wide-eyed Ser Justin.
The man nodded mutely, looking so surprised and uncomfortable that the Stormlander did not have the heart to take the speculation any further aloud. A disguised hatch meant someone had hidden it, which implied that someone up here knew about it, or had known at some point in the past.
Someone working with the monster... A small part of him regretted the time when that would have been surprising.
"It would likely be unwise to bring light down there," Mereth noted. "It would be as obvious as torches in Sty..." She cut herself off, remembering that they were not quite alone. "As obvious as torches on a northern ice flow that is."
"Well then, my lady, how are you planning to see?" Ser Justin asked unable to keep all the frustration from his voice.
"Magic," the princess said simply, reaching out to grant the knight the power to see in darkness which she, Ser Richard, and the Hound had bound in enchanted earrings and Mereth of course had no need of. Her eyes could see through even the thickest murk clear as day.
Almost without thinking he moved a step to the side to let her go first, the gesture earning him a bemused look from Ser Justin and a grateful nod from the Fury herself. There might even have been a trace of a smile on her face, though Richard would not have wagered too much on that.
The smooth stone of the tunnel was hard to climb down, all the more so while stooped, though thankfully it did not take more than a few minutes before Mereth called back silently:
"Wait, there's an alcove."
Richard put his hand on the younger knight's shoulder to stop him since he'd been excluded from the mental message so as not to startle him.
What the Fury had found was a opening in the rock about the size and shape of the average pantry, and probably serving the same role for whatever lived down here to judge from all the bones inside.
"Not a mark on 'em," the Hound grunted. "Whatever killed them didn't have a taste for gnawing on bones at least."
"Most of the bones are curled up in a fetal position," Dany added. "They were brought here and killed, layer upon layer of the dead." She gave a small shiver, though of revulsion and not fear Richard judged. "Do you think it's worth talking to the bones to ask them what killed them?"
The Fury shook her head. "I don't think so. Even if whatever is down here hasn't seen us yet there is a good chance it
heard us. Beings that dwell in lightless tunnels can often perceive minute disturbances in the stone."
"I'd hate to have to fight anything while we are all strung up like this," Richard added his own voice to the argument.
"If we take a skull from its 'pantry' it's even more likely to notice... but then we can ambush
it above," Dany nodded firmly, then added surprisingly: "Link hands."
Hearing the urgency in her voice, Richard reached out to take a hold of Clegane's arm too.
In a moment of twisting color they were back in the cellar, an unearthly wail that was definitely not part of the magic following them up.
"I realized that if our 'friend' was listening, ambushing us on the way up would make the most sense," the princess explained as she set the skull she had selected on one of the casks and began the ritual while Mereth kept an eye on the tunnel, Sandor kept his eye on her, and Ser Justin looked like he had a hundred-and-one questions, though not sure who to ask them of.
"The spell doesn't do anything to the soul, that's gone," Richard explained. "It's just reading the memory in the bones."
He looked a little more at ease after that, though that didn't last long once the bones started talking.
"Fear Drinker, Blood Dancer... old... cold... lives in the stone... lives in the dark. It remembers, it remembers!" Somehow the dry dusty voice managed to hold a hint of fear.
The princess just sighed and continued, obviously going down a metal list: "Did it kill you with magic or some other way?"
Meeting Ser Justin Massey's eyes, Richard shrugged. This was the world they were living in whether they knew it or not.
OOC: This action just really, really wants to become a mini-arc, with the way the character interactions are working out. Still, I will take writing flowing too well over not flowing any day.
