The Drowned Palace Group 7

Opeila had been to a lot of balls in the last years and there was no reason that this one should be any different from the last ones. Except... so far her seventh year at Hogwarts had felt surreal. The young woman felt like was trapped in an eerie bubble of calm that kept out the noise, both outside and that in her own head too. This year she got ready for the ball by herself, quietly humming along to the music on her magical radio in the back. She didn't mind. Her own thoughts were good company these days.

Since the wedding, her mood had been an unpredictable up and down, until eventually... it hadn't been anymore. Opeila had seen and been through enough traumatic events since her first year to know that eventually the days of calm would demand a price paid, but that was a problem for the future. The cloud she was on right now was quite comfortable.

All of that aside, the theme of the ball had sparked excitement in the seventh year. A sinking ship? What an idea! And her dress... Opeila had picked wisely. A thin, transparent cloak, a white top and blue skirt, and a belt that she could easily tie some decorative little bags to, allowing her to bring a couple of potions and her locksmith knife. That knife had been a useful weapon in the past and Opeila knew better than to trust in magic alone at this point.

After pinning her hair back with a brand new pin and putting on her silver charm as a final touch, she was ready.
Still humming to herself, Opeila made her way down to the small hall- she hadn't though twice about signing up for this ball's game. Those seemed to usually go well and she wouldn't complain if she managed to dodge trouble again.

The whiteboard near the entrance told her that she was in a team with Cassius, Piérre and... Astra Norrick. Opeila bit back a sigh. The last time she had spoken with her red haired housemate was back at Hogsmeade, where she had convinced Opeila in a matter of seconds that she had to be sharing a rather limited amount of brain cells with Clark Baird. Well, both were still alive somehow, so maybe she had grown since that day.

As the first person there, Opeila wandered around in their room for a couple of minutes, observing her surroundings. Maybe there was already a clue or two to be found somewhere? Her arriving teammates were acknowledged with polite nods and smiles- well, except Cassius of course. Opeila's eyes lit up when he arrived and she crossed the room for a hug and kiss. "You look amazing, captain.", she remarked and reached up to adjust his hat.

After the door closed, the green glow drew her attention to the words and the lines on the wall. "What is-" Opeila shut her mouth again when the singing started. And ended, seemingly... missing something? She looked at the lines again and counted them. "This is a fill in the blanks riddle. We need to complete the song." Again she turned around, looking for any clues. "Where shadows feast and silence calls, not great but lesser halls... probably the dungeons." She drew her wand. "Revelio."

Scarlet frock lined with gold tailed those long-legged strides of a tall and decidedly nearing (if not beyond) middle-aged participant in the rituals of the evening. Cocked upon the haloing sheen of blonde hair barely silver at the temples lay a similarly scarlet and gold tricorn hat with a large red feather plume, bouncing upon the black ruffle-kerchief-decked chest a chrysoprase pendant which glowed blue-green. High-collared and well-starched, refined yet stark, brown leather gloves donned, a black leather Sam Browne belt boasted small pouches at the slightly cocked hip-belt and a concealed wand as well as a few small single-dose phials on the cheststrap. Some were purely decorative, brewed with the explicit purpose of producing luminescences of gold, crimson, and silver--others among them possessed actual function. If there was to be one thing that could have been said of both the masque and the bearer of it, it was that they often were well-prepared for any instance of mischief or induced mayhem.

Room seven. That was the current destination. That was the room to which Piérre had been assigned... although the face that would appear inside that room when he stepped into it would not seem to match the identity, as he gentlemanly opened the door for Astra first and then followed her inside.

Magic seemed to know, though, and permitted this strange character to enter regardless.

He had taken note of the names, Opeila and Cassius, who were serving as fellows alongside himself and Astra. He knew his fellow peers only as much as they were his peers, unfortunately, though he had served at least in a small regard as a moderating fellow for Cassius--a capable duelist--and knew that Opeila had once been of that same mantle... as well as having served as a prefect in the past. It would appear that at least in the form of the Ravenclaw and the Slytherin, their group possessed a significant amount of firepower alone.

Eyes swept the room, as they were apt to do when entering into new and uncertain situations--threat assessment by this point had been something that was deeply engraved in his very bones. Something that happened by second nature--instantly and quickly--especially when the door slipped shut behind him and the strange music, along with the side-effects of it, began to manifest. Darkness, and then illumination by greenish light. He blinked his good eye a few times, clearing spots that lingered and then continued to observe. It would seem that the solving of the lyrics was most likely the keystone aspect of escaping the room.

"The dungeons do appear to be strongly alluded to, though I wonder why it is that "gold and pearls" were never discovered there prior to now if that is indeed what this hint really means." It was still eerie to hear the vague echo of the silky, rumbling voice's almost lazy tambor forming English consonants from the rear of the room near the entrance as the presence [Cat's Grace] of the newcomer suddenly manifested itself, words that the real man had never spoken before in lieu of what Piérre knew he believed was a "more elegant" tongue. The reply was directed at Opeila. Her white hair, unlike other fleeting mementos he recalled from nonexistent interaction besides rumor of reputation, he recognized as being very new--a feature he had never seen from his observations in younger years. Interesting. "Besides... I assume we're sealed in this particular room... not the Dungeons..."

The single, piercing blue eye unencumbered by the leather patch flicked about the room for a moment before it slid shut and his mind focused more strongly on the strains of the song. Keen-eyed he was, perhaps, but his mind and self had always seemed more strongly connected to music than the material. He was not searching for meaning in the words alone, but also in the way that the melody ran. He searched for the curious, particular secrets in that instead; attempting to identify the harmonics, the chord progressions, the intervals, and the rhythm of the chant itself. Music, being an art, needed to possess a pattern, a flow that made the melody complete. Solve the melody, the very essence of the art, and the missing piece of the lyric would answer itself.

"The song's lyrics likely follow an A-A B-B rhyme scheme." The eye opened again, speaking more softly as if mostly to himself. The first stanza's syllables were 8-8-8-6... but the second's first two lines were 7-7, seeming to fit naturally with a 6/4 time. Waltz-like. He began to tap on his chest in time when the next iteration of the song began [moderator, please let me know if I am entirely off base with this assessment or if the melody does not actually have this rhythm, this is simply what I can observe from lyric/poem pattern alone]. Either that, or a 3/4 time with a 2/4 "emphasis" measure to realign the tempo... He switched between the two tap patterns, attempting to determine which fit better.

Fingers curled around the overcoat's lapel, rubbing it thoughtfully. "Strange, though," The "lyric lines" also piqued his curiosity. "The last two lines of the second stanza might break the first stanza's syllable arrangement--the algae's 'words' are rather long." It could, however, still follow the prior stanza's melody pattern--something that would help determine the rhythm... and therefore the words likely to fill those gaps...

The eye blinked slowly. "I'd like to know the end of at least one of those lines. Knowing what we have to rhyme could solve the entire verse. I am open to suggestions, however."

By the time the third repetition of the known song had concluded, he had committed the entire known melody to heart. Obviously it was a call-and-response--someone would have to sing the reply. Someone would have to try to fabricate the ending... once they figured out what that ending was. He started humming it under his breath, trying to determine the most likely syllable formation that would make it ever so slightly easier to determine the words while walking about idly and enjoying the decor. As he went, he began palming small objects that may or may not be precious in nature, petty thief he was at heart, and then out of a whim of whimsy he did check the door: just in case.

Curious, curious.

Action: Attempt to divine specific syllable formation of the last two unknown lines
[based on melody & rhythm, stanza structure, pattern of the algae filament formation or if there's music sheets immediately visible in the room's decor]

Astra hadn't stopped staring. Sue her. You watch your best friend- who is the same height as you normally- use a single potion to apparently transform into his dad who both looks eerily like him and like the physical antithesis of him. Simultaneously. Also, you get a brand new obnoxious eight inch height difference. Which she was just so thrilled about, having to take two steps for his every one. "I'm not a fan of the new height. Or the grey, honestly. I don't think you're ready to be a silver fox. Haven't got the retirement funds for it," she complained observed.

Four names decorated the board outside the seventh door they came upon after passing through the main ship: Opeila, formerly prefect and someone unfortunate enough to have met Astra when she was eleven and thought herself superior and invincible; Cassius, a name from the duelling piste; Piérre, familiar and in little need of mental introduction; and Astra, herself, in need of even less.

"Thank you." She ducked into the room, but waited till he was closer before going in further, startling despite her best efforts when the door latched shut with finality. It was an improvement from the spring, when she'd had a whole bloody panic attack from a door closing, but frustration and embarrassment clouded her mind nonetheless. Still weak, they said.

She cased the room to distract from her thoughts. "Shouldn't light anything yet to preserve nightvision just in case," she muttered, more to herself than anyone but audible enough to Piérre, before falling silent and listening to the song. Within the first repetition, she had the rhythm, key, and a vague melodic structure. She hummed in the silence where words should've been, pausing when the voice sighed and began again.

"I do believe it's hinting to the dungeons. The last lines could refer to 'those that died.' Could be adventurous, thieves, curse-breakers-" Her head tilted as dark eyes squinted. No, the blanks on either side of the hyphen were too short, and the lines of algae did seem to be following word length. A small sigh through her nose. Her steps followed the rhythm of the song as she pulled over possibilities drawn from the observable rhyme scheme, cadence, notes, and searching for more materials as Opeila cast the revealing charm. Which had been Astra's first thought, once she untangled them, but by that time the older girl's spell had been cast.

Likely for the better. Astra was the least experienced here. Youngest. She could see herself getting in the way far more than she could see herself being helpful. Why had she agreed to do this, again? Or better, why had Piérre asked her if he knew just as well as she how unpredictable things tended to get with one Astra Norrick thrown into the mix?

ACTION : ATTEMPTING TO LOCATE MORE CLUE MATERIAL
stats : sta • 10 | eva • 7 | str • 8 | wis • 8 | arc • 6 | acc • 8
abilities : prodigal charms learner, terrible presence
inventory : wand, hand and a half sword (dull), vial of calming draught (small), exploding bon bons
interactions : @piérre marchonné
mentions : @opeila winters, @cassius eden
perms :
notes : | fit reference

MOD POST - GROUP 7

The door of the room drew back into itself. The door was not locked - there was no door. None of the crew would be leaving for the dungeons, nor would they be leaving whatsoever; it was an escape room, after all.

@Opelia Winters would cast a well-timed and well-cast revelio, and the algae seemed to grow brighter and sharper, allowing her to read the words blending into the foliage.

your xxxxxxxxx treasure xxx Fail xxxxxxxxxxxx stays xxxxxx do xxxxxxx the xxxxxxxxxx The and xxxxxxxxxxxxx search, xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx through xxxxxx is xxxxxxxxxxx so xxx timexxx you

The algae continued to give off the same eerie light, and the song kept on playing, on repeat, as if tempting them to find a way to either continue this "riddle" and figure out the next steps, or plainly taunting them to make it stop at some point, since it was getting quite draining to hear it over and over again.

@Piérre Marchonné fell into a motion of mumbling his own thoughts. They were quite musical, showing a man who knew much more about music than the majority of the students at Hogwarts. This was something that seemed to cheer up the sirens, and the song, though still the same, seemed to be just the slightest bit happier.

Unfortunately for @Astra Norrick, the room was still quick dark and she was not able to make out any especially new or strange clues that would help, but she did see the glowing words evoked by Opelia.

Mod Notes mainly for Piérre


Rolls
Do Tell me if I messed up! Moderating is hard.

Drat. The darkness was too deep. Dark halls... If not for that I should think the cellars, or a storeroom. Astra didn't have much knowledge of ships, so she turned to the person she knew who probably had that knowledge squirrelled away somewhere for some unfathomable reason. "Do ships have any sort of-" she began asking Piérre as she returned to his side, a gentle tap on his elbow the indication she was talking to him, but that's when words began to glow as Opeila's revelio took effect. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the words, voice trailing off before the question finished.

Her mouth whispered the previous lyrics, faltering in a slight open as her brain pulled the new words into the melody.

Fail dun dun dun, dun dun dun you? Through?
The dun- no, treasure- dun - dun dun... you?

Fail the something, you... Your... Time, your time is through. Fail the search!

"The treasure stays - and so do you?" Her face lit up with a grin. Enlightenment, perhaps, or so it seemed. Her voice rose alongside the repetitive, incorporeal on, filling in the lyrics as she fell silent. "Fail the search, your time is through. The treasure stays - and so do you." There was a sense of certainty. Yes, that sounded right. Maybe strategizing wasn't Astra's strong-suit, split second decisions out of her wheelhouse, but music and code? Those she could figure out.

ACTION : TAKING A STAB AT THE LYRICS
stats : sta • 10 | eva • 7 | str • 8 | wis • 8 | arc • 6 | acc • 8
abilities : prodigal charms learner, terrible presence
inventory : wand, hand and a half sword (dull), vial of calming draught (small), exploding bon bons
interactions : @piérre marchonné
mentions : @opeila winters, @cassius eden
perms :
notes : edited to fix typo | fit reference

It seemed like Opeila had the right thought. The revealing charm made the algae glow and a bunch of words appeared. For a moment her heart beat faster, for about as long as it took her to realize that the words didn't help much at all. "What..." She left the question unfinished, squinting at the words. So... were the gaps supposed to be filled with other words? Or were the words scrambled?

For a couple more seconds she would try to make sense of the new information and wait for some input from her team mates. Given their past, Astra Norrick was probably the last person, Opeila would have expected and useful input from, but clearly... clearly she was underestimating her house mate.
Trying not to look too surprised, she turned and sent Astra a smile. "I think you're right."

Again she looked at the words, went through them one by one and compared them to Astra's solution. Would something happen? Or did they have to actually fill the lines? The seventh year stepped forward. "Flagrate"
Careful not to burn the algae, Opeila moved her wand through the air, leaving a fiery trail, forming the missing words.

"That should do it. I hope."

October 2025
Small Hall, Hogwarts

Interactions: @Opeila Winters @Astra Norrick
Mentions: @Piérre Marchonné

Cassius, the 19th-century ship captain, had remained silent up until this point, assessing the puzzle and his companions quietly. Like the symbol of his Hogwarts house, he preferred to first take a high-level evaluation of any challenge he faced. That way one could take in the various variables and facts before beginning to deduce the solution.

He remained close to his girlfriend as they all began their own attempts to solve the first puzzle. Pierre focused on the syllable patterns while Opeila attempted a more brute-force approach by simply casting the Revelio Charm. Meanwhile Astra, a lower year student he did not recall meeting yet, appeared to be searching as he did.

Their attempts yielded results as words appeared, providing a further clue to the puzzle's solution. "Fascinating..." he whispered mostly to himself, reading the few words that were revealed. Cassius placed a comforting hand on Opeila's shoulder, a gentle squeeze to let her know he was not far and had her back if something bad were to happen.

"I do believe you might be correct, Miss Norrick."

A holdover from his prefect years, he had grown accustomed to addressing younger students by surname alone; it maintained a respectful distance, a formality he found useful at the time. It was less useful now, particularly when he was speaking to others as peers rather than a rule enforcer -- rules he himself had broken on a few occasions.

As Opeila cast the Fiery Script Charm and filled in the blanks, Cassius kept his wand in hand in preparation should anything nefarious arise from their attempt.

Action: Holding wand defensively.

Stats & Items

Reducio

CHARACTER STATS
Stamina 11 - Evasion 15 - Strength 0 - Wisdom 20 - ArcPower 10 - Accuracy 14

ABILITIES
Advanced Casting | Perfectionist | Perfectionist II | Spell Spread | Wandmaker |
Occlumency | Wandless Magic

ITEMS
Wand, Locksmith's Knife

WANDMAKER (ROUGAROU HAIR)

Reducio

• 10% of the damage done by a "dark" spell is done to a target that was successfully hit by a dark spell every round for the duration of the thread. This is considered to be "bleeding" and can be countered with the bandaging charm.
• In Duelling: This bleeding effect is limited to 4 rounds. If hit by another dark spell in the meantime, the bleeding effect is replaced with the new one.
• On a critical success with a "dark" spell, a second target (only if defined by the caster before this has been rolled) can be targeted, if no secondary target is declared then nothing happens.
• -10% damage done with non-dark spells.

"Hm?" His attention was drawn to Astra returning to his side at the beginnings of her question, the eye flicking as his head turned to get her in his half-sights, but a soft glow from the algae seemed to dismiss the ending of that inquest, and his sharp gaze flicked towards Opeila's target of casting as well.

Cerulean blue glittered as words began to appear. "Well well, that certainly does make things much easier. Good thinking." Though it was a pity that it seemed that magic was so good at solving even the most infinitesimal and potentially difficult challenges... A small smile appeared. Well, there was his rhyme: through and you, as well as the start of the sentences as indicated by a capital letter.

If the room had been brighter, it perhaps would have been funny to see both Astra and the blonde one-eyed man seeming to mull over the same exact thought patterns. Piérre himself was bobbing his head slightly, feeling the tempo with the words that he scrambled back and forth in an attempt to make them make sense, but it wasn't until Astra piped up that the sentence made sense as well. "--and so do you." He nodded as well as rolled his eye with the obviousness of it. "That would be quite on-theme. Mine were somewhat coming up gibberish." He was the sort that needed pen and paper to spiderweb the more physical thoughts at random...

While Opeila wrote the words in the algae with Flagrate, Piérre viewed the words darkly with the single deep eye, mulling over the music. Perhaps it would end badly, but since they were going all in on what could potentially be the red herring anyhow, he decided it wasn't a bad idea to simply roll with it. The song stopped at the last two lines.

He intended to complete them with the music they had already given them. On the next cycle of the song, he offered his voice to the mix as well; in the voice of Gitano it was a strange rumbling voice that the contratenor Piérre was unused to--a bass-baritone that crashed and rolled very much like the ocean tides themselves. It had a distinctive growl on the edges, a dark undertow of a tambor that made his own heart vibrate in his chest (ref; Jonathan Young) as it left his lips. Yet, in the midst of the deepness and brassy intonation, there was the slightest upturn of brightness--an allusion to the boy whose true voice was hidden somewhere within.

"Come seek us where the torches glow,
Within the castle, far below.
Where shadows feasts and silence calls,
Not great, but lesser halls.

Pearls and gold awaits inside,
Treasure torn from those who died,
Fail the search, your time is through.
The treasure stays - and so do you.

Action: Sing the Extrapolated Lyrics Aloud

MOD POST - GROUP 7

As @Astra Norrick began to sing, the music continued along with her, adjusting itself to her voice to highlight it and make it sound wonderful. At least, until she got to the word "remains", at which time it abruptly cut off and patiently waited for her to finish singing, before sighing and repeating the loop.

Similarly, the bright, fiery script laid out by @Opeila Winters served no beneficial purpose, besides lighting up the room even more than it already was. Man, that fire was BRIGHT. It certainly looked cool, if anyone in the room had a flair for the dramatic.

@Cassius Eden had no further point to contribute to the conversation, although he did look awfully cool holding his wand out. If a kraken were to fall from the ceiling right now, he would be ready.

Choosing to switch up the words slightly from Astra's attempt, @Piérre Marchonné also began singing. Similarly, the music continued with him, although this time they made it all the way through, and as his voice faded out, the singing did as well.

Upon singing the last word, a bell-like laugh is heard, followed by a splash of water. The room suddenly enlightens, lights coming from floating luminescent jellyfishes, blue-flame candles, and gigantic glowing pearls. You are clearly within a palace's room, the intricate designs reminiscing old-time castles, its columns stretching toward the surface of the ocean. For indeed, this palace is sunken deep within troubled seas—flowing motifs on the walls mimick the pattern often found when looking back at the surface, and a blue filter seems to be cast over the room.

Facing you, eyes can distinguish a large window opened on the underwater world. An infinite horizon of blue is shown, though in the distance, some recognisable shapes can be glimpsed. Sharks, fish, and mermaid silhouettes can be made out. Strangely, they seem to be holding their hands in the shape of an eight. Thick and heavy velvet curtains frame the window, their fringes piling on the floor underneath. Behind you is the door from which you've entered, though the knob seem to have disappeared. Next to it is an immense clock, though its mechanism seems to be broken, as it is frozen in time, the large hand on the II and the smaller one on IV. On your right is a bookshelf painstakingly carved from an oversized shell, its books worn, pages damaged by the ambient humidity.
Ambient Oceans, By Willy Embers
Watching the Waves, By Rylee Waters
Below the Waters, By Pearl Cordelia
Whispers of the Shells By Coral Ocean
Crossing the Trenches By Dolphina Wave

Man, they really name these kids strange names.

Besides it stands what appears to be a collection of shells, with a small wicker basket standing by its side.

What truly catches your eyes, though, is the wall found by your left side: a fascinating assortment of art, a gallery of moving paintings. These paintings are truly eye catching - it is hard to tear your eyes away. The first depicts a whale piercing the water, it's majestic shape crashing down the surface. Next to it is what appears to be a jellyfish, sister to the one floating throughout the room, pink, aligned with delicate lilac dots. The three following show, respectively, an orca chasing a seal, an elegant shark swimming about, and finally an adorable octopus hiding beneath a rock. The last one is that of a woman, staring directly at you, perched on a rock. Each member of the room will see the woman's eyes following them. Watching. Waiting. Hoping.

Rolls