As you emerge from the Gate, you take in the immediate area. Shelves and crates litter the room, Inadequate lighting dangles overhead, a raised platform of stone gives one end of the room a shoulder height ledge for some reason, and the other side slopes upward to a pair of towers.
Oh, there's also around a dozen men and women pointing weapons of some sort at you. Their armor looks to be made of densely woven cloth and your best guess for the weapons is that these people have created more complicated muskets. Whether they are more effective remains to be seen, but you don't really feel like testing it out if you can avoid it.
Regretting not enchanting more equipment before rushing into this mess, you decide to cooperate... to an extent. Extending your arms to display your lack of armament, you announce your arrival in the most sickeningly friendly tone you can muster. "Salutations! I am in search of a pair of young ladies by the name of Valliere. You wouldn't happen to have seen them perchance? The Pink hair is hard to miss."
"Uh... Sir?" You hear a female ask, though whether to you or a superior, you are unsure. Taking the opportunity, you smile and step forward, only to stop as the soldiers tense and the woman shouts, "No sudden movements! This is facility is off limits to unauthorized personnel, get down on your knees and keep your hands in clear view. Resistance will be met with lethal force."
"My, my... surely you don't actually expect these old joints to kneel." You say with a self-depreciating laugh.
The woman looks momentarily uncomfortable at the comment, though a whispered 'don't call me Shirley' from one of the men makes her growl something to him before he walks up and locks your arms behind your back with a thing band of some unknown material. Grumbling about the woman's lack of humor, the man begins to push you away from the gate.
A quick casting of Mark on the gate causes a tiny voice to come from the man's ear for some reason and the man bashes you in the head with his musket before the world goes dark.
06:45 March 2nd, 2015: Zion Valley, Utah
Commander Flagg watched the interrogation footage once more. It had been fifteen minutes since Vahlen had left the room and according to the live feed, the old man was still doodling on the walls with the scientist's pen.
Walking into the room, Doctor Moira Vahlen takes a seat opposite the prisoner and reads something off of her clipboard. "Mr... Tyne, was it? As I understand, you are here in search of someone."
"Indeed I am, young miss. My wayward student is always getting into trouble, you see." The elderly man replies with a fond smile.
"And you're certain they are here? Disregarding your arrival for now, how exactly did you find this facility?"
He nods. "Of course, I am. Do you have any idea the trouble I've been through to find that apprentice of mine after she collapsed an unstable dimensional gate while walking through it? Making a man of my age chase her across the unknowable void between worlds... doesn't she care about her poor teacher's health?"
"I see, wou-"
Her words are cut off as the man talks over her. "Not to mention the sheer recklessness of it all! While I can appreciate their need for flight, couldn't they have just literally flown? Portals are dangerous! Demons, gods, monsters, all sorts of awful things could come pouring out. I've seen a man butchered over a stolen sweetroll when he chose the wrong travel destination. She and that sister of hers are in for a lesson or two about consequences."
"Quite..." She says, disbelief at the man's story evident in her voice . "Would you care to explain how exactly you arrived here?"
"Why, with the Oblivion Gate dearie." He laughs.
"And what exactly is an Oblivion Gate?"
"It's the thing I walked through to get here... I thought that would be obvious." Now the man looks at her with concern.
Not appreciating the pitying look she's receiving, nor the insinuation toward her intelligence, Vahlen glares back at him. "Yes, that much is indeed evident, what I mean to ask is how this gate functions. Is it dangerous, where does it lead, what powers it, what are it's limits... that sort of information would be most appreciated."
"Oh! Well why didn't you say so?"
Several moments pass in silence before the doctor speaks again, clearly annoyed by the man. "Will you please explain what the power source is?"
"Magic!" He announces grandly with an outward sweep of his arms.
"Magic?" She repeats without humor.
The old man nods enthusiastically. "Magic."
"Mr. Tyne, please be serious."
"I am?" The words come out as more of a question than a statement.
"What limits does the device have?"
Making a frame with his fingers, as though preparing to take a picture, he answers, "No more than a window or a door."
"Which means?" The poor woman is visibly growing more frustrated with each word out of the man's mouth.
"It means what I said. Well, I suppose that is not entirely correct... It won't work if it's blocked by dragon blood." He says with a shrug.
Momentarily stunned by the man's ridiculous response, she works her jaw uselessly for several moments. "I... moving on. Where does the portal lead?"
"Hm? Well, this one leads to Louise's front lawn." He shrugs carelessly.
"You mean to tell me that a radioactive wormhole generating device is just sitting in the lawn of some French family's home?"
"Yes? No? Maybe? Is that bad?"
Rubbing the bridge of her nose, the good doctor ignores the question and asks, "What are the potential dangers of using the device?"
"Hmm... Other than getting lost like my apprentice? I once met cat who claimed to have developed an allergy to the plaid from sleeping next to a gate once... but he was a known liar anyway."
Setting her clipboard aside, the doctor sighs and leans forward with her hands steepled in front of her face. "Considering the circumstances, I believe we are being more than reasonable with you... but if you insist on making things difficult, we have other means of extracting what we wish to know."
"It is your own fault if you refuse to accept my answers." He replies, taking her pen and using it to draw on the wall. Rather than continuing her questioning, the woman grabs her clipboard and exits the room.
Stopping the footage, the Commander looked at the irritated German woman. "Your assessment, Moira?"
Sighing, she looked up from whatever document she was reading. "Commander, though admittedly infuriating, I believe the man speaks truthfully."
"You're telling me that you believe the man's a wizard?" Jeremy asked incredulously.
Laughing, Vahlen shook her head. "No. The man may be telling the truth as he sees it, but he is obviously seriously ill. While the wormhole is impressive, that is hardly evidence for magic, the theory behind such a device has been around for quite some time. The portal is stable and has been tested quite thoroughly... our lead physicist, Adams, has spent several hours throwing items of varying nature through the gateway.... Though given the spike in radiation that occurs when something passes through it, I would recommend caution until we can properly shield our troops and have them investigate the other side."
Flagg nodded in agreement, having already alerted Shen about the issue of Hazmat gear. "On the subject of radiation, have we discovered what it was that our newest guest did before being knocked unconscious?"
"Negative Commander, for whatever reason, there was a sudden burst when the man was restrained. Our best guess is that an insect or other small object happened to enter the event horizon at just the right moment to cause a panic."
Grunting, he turned to the approaching soldier. "Kilton, what brings you up to central?"
Snapping off a salute, the man spoke with an unusual accent, "Sir, there's a... situation down in medical that you might want to know about."
"Well? Spit it out." He growled, not at all pleased with how everything kept piling up. Why hadn't the idiots downstairs used the PA system instead of sending a runner?
Fidgeting uncomfortably, the squaddie gathered his courage and spoke so quick it may as well have been one word. "Thelittlegirl'smissing."
"What?!" He roared. "What about the guards? Surely someone would notice a kid with bright pink hair limping around the halls!" Stomping over to the internal surveillance station, the Commander loomed over the frightened man at the desk. Peering down at the array of screens he scanned them for several moments before pointing. "There! How on earth did a crippled child break into my armory and why did no one notice?!"
Marching out of the room, the Commander ignored the shouting behind him.
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Slowly fighting her way to consciousness, Louise struggled to look around the room. Her mind felt hazy for some reason and her body refused to obey her wishes. Her throat was dry and there was an incessant beep that wouldn't leave her alone.
Where am I?
After what felt like an eternity, she managed to turn her head enough to see a creature of some sort feeding on her blood. The beeping increased in frequency as she saw how much it had already sucked up into its transparent head. Panicking, she swatted the beast's skinny torso and the creature squeaked as it fled toward the wall and collapsed.
She didn't know how long she had been there, but she knew that she was surely doomed if she didn't do something before the beast recovered. There was too much of blood. Her blood. The pain was beginning to set in and now that she thought about it, her whole body ached.
I'm going to die!
Shaking her head furiously at the though, followed by vomiting from the dizziness that caused, she rolled off the bed. Landing on the creature, she used the only weapon she had to finish the beast before it could fight back. Her teeth. The beeping noise turned into a shrill screech as she forced herself to crawl away from the horrid monster's corpse.
Where's Cattleya?
An orange cyclops rushed at her as she crawled, forcing her to painfully flop onto her side in order to defend herself. Freezing the oddly metal floor, she watched the humanoid monster fall on it's weird nose before blinding it. The beast screamed and clutched at it's single eye, but she ignored it. With the place obviously infested with monsters and her sister likely having been dragged off deeper inside, she couldn't afford to waste time.
I need a weapon.
At the thought, she felt something call out to her and knew it was her sword, but it was much too far to crawl. Attempting to stand, her vision swam and she collapsed in agony. Even through the strange haze in her mind, she knew what needed to be done. Focusing as hard as she could on her legs, she forced her magicka into the offending limbs and willed them to work properly. Pushing herself off the ground didn't work, so she repeated the same thing on her arms as she did her legs.
Blinking away the spots in her vision, she pushed her body off the floor and wiped away the drool on her face.
Did I fall asleep? Her head felt a little less wrong, but the fog was still there. Stumbling out the door and down the hall, Louise Valliere ventured through the cave of monsters in search of her sword.
Hold on sis, I'll save you!
-------------------------------------------
Dragging a bloodstained and drug-addled preteen through the halls of his base toward the medical facilities, a girl who had recovered from crippling injuries in a matter of hours and incapacitated over a dozen trained soldiers while high on a cocktail of God knows what, Jeremy Flagg ignored the shocked faces of his increasingly disappointing organization. The fact that even after having been knocked out, the girl would likely lose her hand before releasing that damned sword did nothing to improve his mood.
It hadn't been a full day since he took charge of this facility and already he felt like Van Doorn had made the right choice in refusing the position.
Status: Healthy
Magicka: (575/650)
Choose 1:
[] Recall to the Oblivion Gate-
[] return to Quelana.
[] explore the base.
[] Use Vahlen's pen to escape your cell and find your wayward student.
[] Make the Commander an offer-
[] write in.
[] Switch to Louise.
[] Write in.
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A/N: Drugs are apparently good for Louis's casting, because she had 4 chances to screw up and didn't. Compared to sober where she seems to almost kill herself with every new spell.
