Ausuapr's history only goes as far back, from the time of
settlement by an Aeon priest in defence of Jyrek; the seat of power for the Warrior
King Landon. For the people of this
stead this is the only history they need, the only history that burdens them.
They have built higher and higher, in austerity and self gratification. The
ground beneath their feat disappeared under the waste of the city as it grew.
With each broken bottle or shattered synth the ground faded from memory, the
caldera deepened. As children in Auspar, regardless of the floor you are on,
there is one unifying tale. Creatures made from what they have thrown away, an
echo or shadow of their lives, one for every citizen. The rich are told to
blame the poor, the merchants always ensure everything is used and the poor, on
occasion, die. Those that slip under are presumed dead and lost, or caught on a
point, or a rope if they become untethered. For Eryn and Chloe the first was a
fleeting fate. Their bodies slipped through, right through what was beneath
them. A clawing, oppressive sensation, in one thick heavy band passed through
them in the dark. Their legs felt free and dangled for a moment, before they
both collapsed down to the floor in a wave of rubbish.
The air was dry, but all that could be smelt was the decay
of rubbish. Eryn's vision adjusted to the darkness, allowing him to see Chloe
fumbling in the dark. They had most likely fallen from the ceiling but from his
view he could see only flat weathered rock, stalagmites fused with rubbish. The
entire cavern ceiling was similar, with patches of fused rock and waste.
Neither of them had brought glow globes or torches, a fact only now being
realised by Chloe as she tripped and fell for the third time. Eryn could at least find his way. He noticed the walls of the cave, not rounded, but
straight, meeting at almost identical angle on the other side. The walls were
cold, and dusty. Nubs of rock crumbled under Eryn's fingers. He reached down to
steady himself, to only feel the bridge of a nose and curled lips and exposed teeth
at his fingertips. Eryn, in sudden shock bolted backwards and into the legs of
Chloe who now sat dazed on the floor with him. He peered more closely and saw a
figure of a sleeping man, in an aged bedroll. He approached with caution, while
trying to wake the man up. He did not respond. He slowly glanced over at the man's
face. His skin was leathery and sunken, the shadows in the darkness made the
man seem hollow in parts. He was preserved almost perfectly, this was the work
of time at its best. To Eryn though, there was something recognisable. Their
fashions, dried and dirtied feathers, motifs of the sky embroidered on his
mantle. According to those working the Undercroft, a fashion only around a one
cycle ago. He had been redressed well past his death, or
he had died quicker than the common laws prescribe.
Eryn glanced left and right, to see if the man had any
belongings. There were some, an old lamp, some rusted tools even an dried
inkwell and quill. There were spaces missing, a place set for a book, a broken
chain. There were no potions or medications, no rations, even his weapon was
apparently missing from its hilt. In fact, he did not seem prepared for any
engagement. There were no signs of a struggle so Eryn moved his search a little
wider, Chloe meanwhile examining for herself the body, as much as her curiosity
and constitution would let her. He found another bedroll, another body, and another,
and another. The desiccated party now reached four. Each seemed perfectly at
peace when they died, yet they were missing deliberate objects. Chloe searched
the body she was next to and found a short scrap of metal from one of his
inside pockets. The rubbed her finger over it, it warmed to her touch then
without warning jolted from her hand to the floor. It span for a few seconds,
now emitting a singular narrow beam of golden light. The light began to cone
out from the metal shard and within showed a picture of a man, his wife,
presumably his son, and a metallic canine carrying exploring equipment; now
murdered above.
The sound of a wooden crank was followed by a single bolt
smashing into the stone above Eryn's head. He wheeled around, frantically
searching for his would be killer. From the shadows across the room, a woman
stepped forward bearing a glow globe. Her black hair had knotted itself over
her marred complexion. Days, perhaps weeks of muck and dust had settled into
every pore of her clothing. If she had not illuminated herself, her figure
would have blended easily. She carried with her a sack, jute, tied with a
simple rope knot. It had been so tightly packed that even when she placed it on the ground it retained its shape.
There were faint impressions of right angles, perhaps a stolen book or two. She
was immediately accused of the other party's murder, and Eryn and Chloe's
current entrapment. The woman's speech was defensive, curt, and needle sharp.
She answered with the tiniest of simple answers. It became more and more apparent
that she either knew nothing or too much but she was the only person to blame.
Her defence finally culminated in the form of one of the dead. The man that Chloe
had been closely examining, touching his skin as if her eyes betrayed her
senses, his eyes flashed now open and dust was coughed up from his lungs. The
black haired woman asked if she had caused their death. He exhaled an empty 'no'
before his head hit the stone beneath and his body crumbled into bone and then
dust. There was no refuting a dead man's
confession, especially if you are in his tomb. The woman, now satisfied of her
proof, introduced herself as Lily.
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