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Enter the Cave emptystar emptystar emptystar emptystar emptystar


Slowly, you walk forward toward the cave entrance. The air inside the cave is cold and dry; the mud gives way to rough stone and all signs of other life quickly dries up. Darkness envelops you after a few metres, forcing you to keep to the walls to feel your way forward. Every sudden dip in the ground causes a heart-stopping lurch and a desperate attempt to regain your footing, for you are not willing to risk discovering how far down the drops go.
As you proceed the walls and floor take a more uniform nature. Natural rock becomes worked stone, worked stone becomes masonry, and soon you see the faint glow of distant light. Small torches burning in specially cut alcoves provide you with weak, but welcomed vision once more. The path ahead is old; the air is stale and the smell of mould assaults your nose. As you draw closer you see a door of age-blackened wood and green, corroded bronze. The stones below are heavily scratched, showing years of use. The hinges shine where frequent use has scraped the corrosion away. It does not move easily, but with several good pushes you find yourself in a vast, dark room.
In the dim light of mysteriously burning torches, four statues, each at least eighty feet tall stand with arms raised, supporting the roof. One is a female kitsune with nine tails fanned out behind her. One is a female bird, perhaps a crow or raven, whose tail has broken off and smashed to the ground in three pieces. The impact shattered the flagstones. The remaining two are male; a proud cat and a scowling wolf. The statues appear to be carved of red sandstone, quarried from parts unknown.

 

In the shadows you make out a roughly carved table. It stand on uneven legs and has been wedged stable with random chunks of slate. Pieces of paper lie on the tabletop, yellowed with age and so badly damaged by mould that they are unreadable. A candle was burned down to a stump beside an ancient clay pot of ink that has dried up. On the very edge of the table there is a small wooden box, banded with black iron. The lid is open, and inside there is a large red gem that seems to shine with inner light. It is vaguely circular, about the size of a human eye. As you approach the table you are left with the strange feeling that you are being watched, yet as far as you can tell there is no-one else in the chamber. By the time you reach the table, the torches seem to burn less brightly, and despite your warm clothes a shiver runs down your spine. Yet there is some significance to this gemstone; for reasons you cannot articulate, you are compelled to take it with you.



Written by Jasan Quinn on 13 February 2015


Take the Gem

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