Re: The Grand Battle II! [Round 6:Doomish Temple!]
08-18-2010, 08:05 AM
Originally posted on MSPA by Sruixan.
Progress along the passageway was surprisingly fast; Maxwell’s pace piqued Clara’s curiosity somewhat, as it appears that the man with a passion for the new and unexplained was ignoring the enigmas scrawled on the walls that surrounded him. The walls were packed with carvings, from floor to ceiling, delicately carved so as to convey as much as possible in the space available. They didn’t look too straightforward – on the left hand side, there were at least some stick-people amongst the symbols and squiggles, but to her right, the figures became more and more abstract, with recognisable bodies few and far between.
A particular set of glyphs, she noted, kept popping up amongst the pictures in a variety of permutations. These were presumably the local script, captions etched underneath or to the side of most images to explain, perhaps, or to relate details the otherwise obscure carvings failed to put across. Clara couldn’t help but think that her companion should be pouring over them, trying to decipher them so as to fulfil his desire for knowledge, but instead he kept his head down, taking uncomfortably long strides towards an unknown destination, somewhere at the end of this tunnel…
…without so much as a whisper of a warning, Maxwell froze. As Clara halted herself, he started to chuckle, tapping the floor with his foot in a manner a little too random to be considered rhythmic.
“Take a long step here, I’d say. These two seams” (he pointed then to grooves in the floor that the nun hadn’t previously noted; having been so engrossed in the walls) “are way too close together. In fact, look a little closer and I’d bet you anything they aren’t even seams at all.”
With that warning somewhat lacking, Clara waited as Maxwell attempted to stretch across the slab. Upon realising he wouldn’t quite make it, he mumbled something and withdrew his leg in a hesitant manner. Instead, the floor beyond the groove before him was tentatively poked, each touch provoking the odd frustrated grumble. Finally, he made his decision and took a small step forward, crossing the line with no apparent consequences.
Clara hadn’t the faintest notion of why he was going through such theatrics, but decided she was better safe than sorry. However innocuous the passageway appeared to be, the Observer had made it quite clear that the temple was rife with danger. Such danger could well be hidden in the tiniest of details; like the supposed crisis that was this chunk of rock being just that tiny bit different to all the hundred-plus or so other tiles they’d passed over so far. Still, better safe than sorry…
Spurred on by the apparent lack of repercussions from his step forward, Maxwell began to look around for the first time, focusing now on the ceiling.
“No marks up there… just a pit, then. Has to be. I can’t feasibly see it being anything but… could it just be a feature? No, no, they really are too close, so let’s stick with that, ‘cause that’s pretty brilliant…”
Becoming engrossed in his cogitation once more, he started surveying his surroundings. Wave after wave of surprise, confusion and comprehension passed over him as he glanced around, truly seeing the walls for the first time and seemingly enjoying the experience.
As Maxwell swivelled round to take in the right side of the corridor, a new expression emerged. His face fell, shortly followed by his jaw and then his whole body as his legs gave way through sheer astonishment. The force of his landing was enough to dislodge the precisely balanced slab and Clara could only gasp as that vanished down the pitfall it had been covering. It took Maxwell quite the scramble, fuelled by the surge of adrenalin the affair had instigated, to somehow push himself back onto terra firma, his arms groping for confirmed solid ground and just about latching onto it as the cover gave way. Had he not known the trap was there, it would probably have been his end.
Whilst he sprawled himself out on the ground, shaking and panting a tad too heavily, the nun’s curiosity compelled her to inspect the sight that had shocked the genius so. It was the largest carving she’d seen so far, stretching from ceiling to where the floor had previously been. It appeared to be an L-shape drawn in oblique perspective, with the top of the L bending backwards and tapering to a point far to the left, as it was etched, of the bottom of the letter. Centred about the bottom left corner of the L was a small circle that appeared to extend back into the picture a short way. The most peculiar features of the picture, though, were the embellishments – about a third of the way from the top of the L’s stem, a line emerged from the front, bending once towards the right and then, at its end, splitting into four, maybe five smaller lines. They were a bit tricky to make out, but the whole shape was mirrored at the back of the L, despite the bend being obscured behind the stem. The final odd detail was another one of these lines, starting at the top of the L then disappearing behind it, only to emerge again at its base. This was chiselled as thicker than the other two, but it was still as much of a mystery to her.
Maxwell’s breathing reached something of a crescendo, then for a brief moment he fell silent, composing himself…
“KONKA RAR! COME HERE YOU BASTARD - I'VE... ffff-”
His breath ran out abruptly and the trenchant heaving resumed.
Progress along the passageway was surprisingly fast; Maxwell’s pace piqued Clara’s curiosity somewhat, as it appears that the man with a passion for the new and unexplained was ignoring the enigmas scrawled on the walls that surrounded him. The walls were packed with carvings, from floor to ceiling, delicately carved so as to convey as much as possible in the space available. They didn’t look too straightforward – on the left hand side, there were at least some stick-people amongst the symbols and squiggles, but to her right, the figures became more and more abstract, with recognisable bodies few and far between.
A particular set of glyphs, she noted, kept popping up amongst the pictures in a variety of permutations. These were presumably the local script, captions etched underneath or to the side of most images to explain, perhaps, or to relate details the otherwise obscure carvings failed to put across. Clara couldn’t help but think that her companion should be pouring over them, trying to decipher them so as to fulfil his desire for knowledge, but instead he kept his head down, taking uncomfortably long strides towards an unknown destination, somewhere at the end of this tunnel…
…without so much as a whisper of a warning, Maxwell froze. As Clara halted herself, he started to chuckle, tapping the floor with his foot in a manner a little too random to be considered rhythmic.
“Take a long step here, I’d say. These two seams” (he pointed then to grooves in the floor that the nun hadn’t previously noted; having been so engrossed in the walls) “are way too close together. In fact, look a little closer and I’d bet you anything they aren’t even seams at all.”
With that warning somewhat lacking, Clara waited as Maxwell attempted to stretch across the slab. Upon realising he wouldn’t quite make it, he mumbled something and withdrew his leg in a hesitant manner. Instead, the floor beyond the groove before him was tentatively poked, each touch provoking the odd frustrated grumble. Finally, he made his decision and took a small step forward, crossing the line with no apparent consequences.
Clara hadn’t the faintest notion of why he was going through such theatrics, but decided she was better safe than sorry. However innocuous the passageway appeared to be, the Observer had made it quite clear that the temple was rife with danger. Such danger could well be hidden in the tiniest of details; like the supposed crisis that was this chunk of rock being just that tiny bit different to all the hundred-plus or so other tiles they’d passed over so far. Still, better safe than sorry…
Spurred on by the apparent lack of repercussions from his step forward, Maxwell began to look around for the first time, focusing now on the ceiling.
“No marks up there… just a pit, then. Has to be. I can’t feasibly see it being anything but… could it just be a feature? No, no, they really are too close, so let’s stick with that, ‘cause that’s pretty brilliant…”
Becoming engrossed in his cogitation once more, he started surveying his surroundings. Wave after wave of surprise, confusion and comprehension passed over him as he glanced around, truly seeing the walls for the first time and seemingly enjoying the experience.
As Maxwell swivelled round to take in the right side of the corridor, a new expression emerged. His face fell, shortly followed by his jaw and then his whole body as his legs gave way through sheer astonishment. The force of his landing was enough to dislodge the precisely balanced slab and Clara could only gasp as that vanished down the pitfall it had been covering. It took Maxwell quite the scramble, fuelled by the surge of adrenalin the affair had instigated, to somehow push himself back onto terra firma, his arms groping for confirmed solid ground and just about latching onto it as the cover gave way. Had he not known the trap was there, it would probably have been his end.
Whilst he sprawled himself out on the ground, shaking and panting a tad too heavily, the nun’s curiosity compelled her to inspect the sight that had shocked the genius so. It was the largest carving she’d seen so far, stretching from ceiling to where the floor had previously been. It appeared to be an L-shape drawn in oblique perspective, with the top of the L bending backwards and tapering to a point far to the left, as it was etched, of the bottom of the letter. Centred about the bottom left corner of the L was a small circle that appeared to extend back into the picture a short way. The most peculiar features of the picture, though, were the embellishments – about a third of the way from the top of the L’s stem, a line emerged from the front, bending once towards the right and then, at its end, splitting into four, maybe five smaller lines. They were a bit tricky to make out, but the whole shape was mirrored at the back of the L, despite the bend being obscured behind the stem. The final odd detail was another one of these lines, starting at the top of the L then disappearing behind it, only to emerge again at its base. This was chiselled as thicker than the other two, but it was still as much of a mystery to her.
Maxwell’s breathing reached something of a crescendo, then for a brief moment he fell silent, composing himself…
“KONKA RAR! COME HERE YOU BASTARD - I'VE... ffff-”
His breath ran out abruptly and the trenchant heaving resumed.