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Squib Ep.17 - Oomeed

ButonflyNov 18, 2018, 1:27:12 PM

(Start at the beginning here)

The dark pressed in around Bandana despite the illumination of Squibs torch. What a strange allie she’d been saddled with, a goblin of all things. One smart enough to speak her tongue, and of a sort to have friends with which to run errands for. She wondered if she had Fate or The Lady to thank for the assistance after crying out for whoever might listen, but thought better of thanking anyone before getting out of this alive. Squib might have seemed agreeable enough, but in truth, Bandana didn't know him or what he was truly about. For all she could tell he was leading her into a trap, it wouldn't be the first time something of the sort had happened. Cautious minds take cautious steps, and in the depths of this dark ruin, caution seemed the favored friend.

“How much further?” Bandana asked in a whisper. Squib responded with a rude, irritated shushing that rubbed Bandana the wrong way. She was no lightweight when it came to working with others. She couldn't remember the last time she’d been without her sisters, and as much as they shared in each others grievances (and those without end), her short time with the Goblin was making her miss them all the more.

“You’re sure you know where you’re going?” Bandana asked again within their small pool of light.

Squib wheeled around, raising his finger to his lips and issuing another loud, irate, shushing sound that made the noise from her question seem inconsequential by comparison.

“It needs to shut up!” Squib explained. “Gobbers be listening. Eat stupid girl after chopping out her tongue! Not a fate Squib can afford.” He rapped a fist against his chest, beating his breast to express a pain that seemed all to unreasonable by Bandana’s estimation. It gave her a true moments pause.

“Here,” Squib held out the torch for Bandana to take which, after a moment, she did. “You wait.” He told her and turned to leave.

Bandana couldn't help but stare on with a look of consternation that quickly grew to alarm, “Wait, where are you going?” She watched as Squib disappeared into the inky blackness, pursuing for a few steps before realising she would not be able to keep up. She turned to check her surroundings, founding herself suddenly alone.

Everything fell silent except for her breathing and the familiar sound of trickling water. She found the nearby wall, a mesh work of stone slabs carefully placed, but now forever misaligned due to their quagmire of a foundation. Having command of the torch, and with little else to do, she moved to take rest with her back pressed safely against the stonework..

The subtle sound of a rivulet drew her ear, and she leaned in for inspection. The light danced across a hair of water, little more than a shimmer, a distortion perceived more than seen. Yet something didn't seem right, urging her fingers to reach out and touch. Bandana folded to her curiosity, giving in as if in a trance that dictated with a need to know. The print of her forefinger formed a dam, and the tiny free flowing river of water divided. Only, strangely, the fork formed at the base of her finger and split off into two streams that wound around and back along their path toward the ceiling.

Bandana drew back her hand, equal parts amazed and concerned by the discovery. So intent was her focus that she didn't realise Squib had returned, and now stood beside her staring up with an annoyed look to his eye. Bandana startled, drawing a breath of shock followed by one of relief at the realization.

“Holy hell, don’t sneak up on me like that!” She chastised, frowning down so that the two appeared as old enemies ready to pick up an ancient feud.

“I didn't sneak!” Squib argued. “Stupid girl was lost again, and not responding. Should be paying attention! Not staring at walls. Come, I found the way. The way is clear.” Without waiting for a response, Squb trotted off the way he’d left, leaving Bandana feeling confused at what he’d said.

Down a snaking corridor, under some broadening archways, and eventually through a large open doorway, Bandana found herself, along with Squib in a open room with a strangely tiered ceiling. Four large pillars supported it, each thick as an old tree and shaped to an impressively smooth finish. Amidst them, in the heart of the room, a large block of rough stone, as square as any corner-piece, sat heavy and ominous.

Bandana’s eyes were drawn beyond that, into the far recesses of the chamber to where her torchlight barely touched. Up a slightly raised dais which hemmed the distant quarter, three figures stared back unmoving. Bandana drew a knife, eyes wide and reflexes tense, but the figures failed to react in turn. Curious, she took a cautious step forward, suddenly aware of Squib’s absence. The Goblin had abandoned her, or was hiding. She should have expected as much.

The torch light drew greater distinctions as she made her way toward the rooms center and her suspicions were quickly confirmed. Three statues overlooked the large stone, staring down from their elevated position at what Bandana now thought an altar. Having no pretense for sanctimony she approached the figures without pause and held her torchlight up to to discern their features.

The leftmost she recognised immediately- The Lady - The God of Luck, which seemed of no surprise. If anything it felt something of a relief to Bandana, not that she’d expect confirmation of the fact. The coincidence was hard to ignore though, however she wanted to look at it.

It was an ancient depiction of The Lady- an average sized woman with long hair, a blindfold wrapped haphazardly about her eyes so that she might peek from beneath the fold, body bare but for a hitched shift of cloth around her waist, and an open palm held out as if to receive something. Though the depiction was far from the modern works she was used to, it was a warming find in such a dark, desolate place.

The figure beside her took a moment longer to identify. The statue depicted another woman, this one half a foot taller than those at her flanks, wearing what could only be described as a wave of water that welled up from the flagstones to form an artistic design for a dress. “Oomeed - The God of Moisture,” Bandana said as she reached out to touch the stonework. She let go a soft laugh of realization, the odd experience with the rising water in the hall suddenly making sense. It then dawned her that the Goddess retained some semblance of active power in the place, and the wonderment was replaced with a foreboding sense of dread at that. She enjoyed the Gods in their place, but that generally meant in related works of literature, or when cursing after stubbing ones toe. Encountering them in living power only served to play hell on the stomach, and that was a sensation she liked even less than the results of a badly boiled campsite stew.

The final statue inspired no memory in Bandana. It was a crowned feminine figure, dressed in wizardly robes, a book hanging about the waist from a chain that slung over the shoulder. Most notably, and more concerning, was the fact that the face of the figure had been marred with a roughly hewn X, leaving no discernible features. Bandana considered its meaning but with no knowledge to draw from was left to the conclusions of her imagination. None of which resembled anything close to the nice things in life, like kittens, rainbows, or sunshine.

Turning back to stare at the room from the vantage point of the Gods, there was really only one question that she needed answered. Discovering what she had so far, she wasn't so confident she wanted to find out its answer.