Post by Connor Lachesis on Nov 18, 2017 5:35:24 GMT
The longer they spent in the place, even if they had the small portal of light to the surface, the more discontent he felt. Stress sweat was just beginning to prickle the nape of his neck beneath his armor, as the surges of adrenaline at their situation came and went. The key was yet another surge, something challenging his mind as he sought to find a solution, to react with calculation and intent.
And yet, he was challenged. Niera’s movements, the rustling of her hands on stone, caught his attention. Head tilted, eyes surveying, his brows drew together slightly. When she returned to his side, carrying findings, the drawn look shifted, a brown arching instead. “How did you infer that?” Nevertheless, he took the key.
Disregarding the box for the moment, he took the key from her outstretched hand. The weight of it settled into his gloved hand, he pinched it with a kind of delicacy between his fingers. Reaching, fumbling briefly as he sought out the indentation again, the key quickly found it’s mark. With a small, resistant force, it pressed against the tumblers of whatever unseen lock barricaded them in place. With a diffuse rush of air, the unseen seams of the rock barrier hissed. Groaning, grinding against the floor, a small section of the wall began sinking inward, before it slid the side.
Connor scarcely had time to shift his weight before a rather spry form sprung from the shadows. It was not altogether dissimilar to the other corpses they’d seen. This one, however, was fresher. Rather than grotesque sores or black ilk pouring from its orifices, the only indication of it’s death was recessed dark circles under it’s eyes, and a solid layer of dirt over the form. One hand shot of to seize the form by the throat, the other snatching the hem of the pants as he twisted his body to direct it’s momentum around his body. With a quick, flicking motion, he sent it stumbling away. His hand found his knife as he moved to close the distance, intent to not allow it proximity to Niera.
And yet, he was challenged. Niera’s movements, the rustling of her hands on stone, caught his attention. Head tilted, eyes surveying, his brows drew together slightly. When she returned to his side, carrying findings, the drawn look shifted, a brown arching instead. “How did you infer that?” Nevertheless, he took the key.
Disregarding the box for the moment, he took the key from her outstretched hand. The weight of it settled into his gloved hand, he pinched it with a kind of delicacy between his fingers. Reaching, fumbling briefly as he sought out the indentation again, the key quickly found it’s mark. With a small, resistant force, it pressed against the tumblers of whatever unseen lock barricaded them in place. With a diffuse rush of air, the unseen seams of the rock barrier hissed. Groaning, grinding against the floor, a small section of the wall began sinking inward, before it slid the side.
Connor scarcely had time to shift his weight before a rather spry form sprung from the shadows. It was not altogether dissimilar to the other corpses they’d seen. This one, however, was fresher. Rather than grotesque sores or black ilk pouring from its orifices, the only indication of it’s death was recessed dark circles under it’s eyes, and a solid layer of dirt over the form. One hand shot of to seize the form by the throat, the other snatching the hem of the pants as he twisted his body to direct it’s momentum around his body. With a quick, flicking motion, he sent it stumbling away. His hand found his knife as he moved to close the distance, intent to not allow it proximity to Niera.