Lock-in Hufflepuff Gryffindor Event Closed

Talking To Serena Towers, Reid Kovacs, and Cynthia Evans

Frost had to take a small break. She was just about to start panting. Like the Hufflepuff boy, Reid, had said, It was getting pretty hot up here. That, along with the fact she ran up quite a bit of stairs made her start to sweat. 

She had tied up her ginger hair to help cool herself down, but it was only helping poorly.

The girl had leaned against the mossy stone wall and told them to go ahead. That she would be there in a second. 

They started moving the weird stone things, the red ones. Frost had realized that it was the magical alphabet that she had been taught in Transfiguration class. The circles and rectangle symbols had been permanently drilled into her brain, so that she would never forget them.  

"That's the magical alphabet from Transfiguration!"

She had yelled at them, trying her best to help while she caught her breath. 

Her new team had come to the same realization and started translating the letters to spell something.

But of course, they made no sense when put together. 

Frost closed her eyes and sighed. 

The Hufflepuff girl, Serena, had figured out that they needed to unscramble the letters. 

"Brilliant thinking Serena!"

 The ginger could practically see the gears turning in Serena's head as she thought. At last! She had done it! Wait what did that spell? D- R- A - G - O- N. Dragon? Oooh! Cool! Dragons were fascinating.

The red stones glowed and the floor glowed an eerie red. Like veins with luminescent blood. To be honest, it was starting to scare her. It was like the calm before a storm.

Then, there! A shadow of something huge. It had wings, a tail. WAIT. 

"MERLIN'S BEARD!" 

What had they done?! It was a DRAGON!   

Frost did not hesitate to rush in there with her teammates. 

The dragon was very close! 

The girl, albeit hard, shoved herself and her hopefully new friends away, to the exact opposite wall to the dragon.

She was scared. Sure, she had seen many creatures from her trips to her father's work. He worked and cared for many different magical creatures. Even dragons. He had shown her a few, but they were much less scary than now! 

Okay, okay! Think! What would Papa do?

She breathed in and out slowly, trying to calm herself. Trying to slow her pounding heart.

The dragon was about to come out into the light any minute now!

Breathe. Just breathe. Calm yourself down. Papa had said to be calm. 

There it is it was so close. She squeezed her eyes shut.

Relax.

Three.

Breathe.

Two.

Calm yourself.

One. 

Frost felt her whole body brace itself for whatever may happen.

But, she didn't feel anything. No roar, no fire, no beat of gigantic scaly wings.

Slowly, the ginger girl eased up and cautiously opened her eyes.

There, on the opposite wall, stood a small scaly creature. Standing at about just over a foot. 

Relief washed over her. It was much much smaller than she was expecting. The thing stood with its arms out, showing off its beauty. It was rather majestic looking, with its shiny scales and long tail.

"Wow." She breathed. 

The girl walked toward it little by little, taking caution not to threaten it or scare it away. 

When she was six feet or so away from it, she stopped. Curiously tilting her head, Frost wondered what species of dragon it was. It's age, where it came from. After all, it was her dream to care for magical creatures. So she decided to talk to it to see what it would do.

"Hello, there. I'm Frost!"

The girl beamed and tried not to scare it away, beaming at it like it was just like meeting someone new. 

Parcel looked up at the egg slowly ascending through the air. As he moved the tip of his wand, Parcel could see the serpent become more and more active above. The basilisk almost seemed giddy. When the egg came within the Serpents range, Parcel could hear a rumbling sound, almost like laughter, coming from the ceiling. And Parcel could feel his body tense as he heard a “click”.

In the next moment the snake was on him! Or as good as on him, it took a moment before Parcel realized that the serpent had appeared right in front of him, and not on him. A great wall of snake was separating Parcel from the rest of the students in the room. Parcel stared straight into the gaping mouth of the basilisk. He could feel the hairs on his neck raise in suspense, but at the same time, Parcel couldn’t make himself entirely fear the Basilisk. There was almost like he could feel a connection to it. Then Parcel heard the same voice that had told him to give the Basilisk the egg. This time it praised him, and said it… it wasn’t going to kill him?

Parcel gulped as he listened to the voice, looking at the razor-sharp teeth in the basilisk’s mouth made him reconsider his actions for a moment. But before he had the time to say anything more, the serpent turned away. Moving its great body, Parcel thought he could feel the air move around it, almost as if the snake had enough mass and power to create a draft as it moved. Parcel didn’t remember to breath until the tail of the serpent was on its way out the door. That was also when he noticed a distressed cat-human-girl standing ratter disheveled by the side of the door. Oof, had she been standing there all this time? Parcel had lost track of who was with him in the room, so he hadn’t given much of a concern to anyone but the Basilisk.

But then again, the girl wasn’t someone he knew, so was it his responsibility to watch over her? Thinking that it wasn’t his responsibility, Parcel let his attention wander to something glinting on the floor. Parcel bent down and used the hand holding his wand to pick up the source of the glint. Turning over his hand, Parcel looked down on a silver ring. It gave him a strange feeling to hold it, but he couldn’t feel any malice coming from it. No, it was more just a, a strange eeriness that emitted from it. He pocketed it while looking around, making sure no one saw it, this was a treasure hunt after all, so Parcel thought this would have to be one of the treasures. But if the other students noticed him finding it, then they might try to give him a smaller share of potential treasure they might find together later. Soo with a child’s greed for everything shiny or sweet, Parcel kept the discovery of the ring to himself.

Straightening up again, Parcel looked around the room. Most of the students seemed to have walked off already, but there where also two girls left in this room with him. It was the weird cat girl that looked like she was on the brink of crying, and then there was Lucy, the girl he had walked in here with, but he wasn’t sure he really wanted to team up with her again after she ran so fast at the first sign of danger.

No, Parcel decided that he would stay to himself if he could. Turning around, he went over to the only part of the room he had yet seen anyone check out. He was pretty sure he had seen a glimpse of water and decided to take a closer look.

Actions:
- Pick up the ring and put it in pants pocket.
- Walk down to what seems to be water on the map.
- Perception check out over the water.

They moved the plates into the grooves. Each time they did, it would light up. They were doing something right, it seemed. As Serena dropped the last rune into the groove, the floor started to glow red. The word DRAGON was written out in whatever alphabet Professor Yawny had said it was - credit to Reid for translating that for her. The Hufflepuff Prefect would not have figured out at least half of the letters if it was not for him. If anything, it proved they worked very well as a team. On their own, they were rather useless but together, they were successful. 

The cracks in the floor glowed brightly. Serena did not even notice the cracks previously. Had they been there the whole time? But it worked. They figured it out. She heard the earlier girl, Frost, compliment her thinking and a grin appeared on Serena's face, "We did it, Rei-" She started talking, turning towards Reid with a look of excitement on her face. This was perhaps the first time she felt relaxed in the whole cave. There was a bit of relief in completing the puzzle. Perhaps a door would open up and they could go home now. Of course, this was Professor Lear's event. It would not be so easy. Her eyes caught a glimpse of smoke starting to rise. Fire?!

The panic made her inhale sharply. Hufflepuffs and fire were known not to work well together. She really hoped she did not just cause a fire. Luckily, they did not appear to have started a fire. Unfortunately, they may have created something a whole lot worse. A gasp escaped her lips, her feet automatically took a step back as her eyes widened. A silhouette of a giant creature, with large claws and big teeth on display... A "Dragon?!" Serena could feel the fear running through her body for a moment. A surge of panic. They had summoned a dragon. What. The. Heck?

Professor Lear was admittedly the Professor of the Care of Magical Creatures. She had expected challenges including said magical creatures. That was why the scrambled word, Dragon, made sense. What Serena did not expect was that he allowed the said dragon to actually be in a small enclosed event - with no Professor protection, because they were very far away at this point in time.

Cynthia's words pierced her ears. Reid, what did you do? You released a dragon! It was a dragon!!! Serena was right - and she hated that she was right! She also hated that Reid got the blame for something she also did but that was a matter for another day. For now, the poor guy would get the blame. He did translate it, after all. Without him, Serena would have been too stupid to work the puzzle out. So yes, lets blame him for it! The poor guy. 

A scream almost escaped her mouth as it started to walk towards them. It was coming closer and they did not have enough space to turn and run. But nothing came out of her mouth. The pure shock of the whole thing had left her body rooted to the spot and unable to even speak. Her heart beat so fast that she was sure it would fly out of her chest at any point. Everything hurt.

That was until the creature stepped forward into the light. She stared at it for a while. A good while. Perhaps in shock, perhaps in utter disbelief. The mighty dragon that she was fearing was... a little over a foot in height. It was... tiny. Perhaps shorter than her arm. Wait, was that even a dragon?! Serena must have stayed at it gobsmacked for too long. 

In that time, she managed to calm herself down. Her heart beat slowly started to decrease a little, the panic starting to leave. She was still on edge and still very aware that they had summoned a random magical creature unintentional. One that could still potentially burn them if it wanted to, especially if it was actually a dragon. But there was a sense of relief in knowing that the creature was not as big as it first looked. It was not as scary as she had anticipated... In fact, it was kind of "Cute...". It was a mutter, under her breathe but loud enough for those nearby to hear her. Serena blinked, staring at the dragon. Wait... was it talking? "AAAA! IT'S SO CUTE!" She repeated, much louder than before. There was a small desire in her to pick up the strange creature and give him a hug. 

For some reason, Serena really liked magical creatures. In particular, she was fascinated by a few that she had heard a lot about but not really seen. Dragons were one of those. One of her relatives worked with dragons, she knew that much. She had seen photos of them from him but those ones were a lot bigger, more fierce looking and rather terrifying. But a part of her still felt inclined to love dragons. Although they could hurt you, they were magnificent creatures in their own right. She was excited for Lear's class to actually learn more about them. But this little guy was a lot cuter than she had expected. She never thought a dragon would be so cute! 

This must be something else. Perhaps a rather large lizard or something, instead... Serena did not even think a baby dragon would be this small. She thought baby dragons would still be bigger than she was. This little fellow could be compared to her arm, which was definitely best described as 'noodle arms' from the lack of strength in them and the small length of them. Surely, he couldn't be that dangerous... right?! Either way, Frost introduced herself to the dragon. Blinking, Serena called out from where she stood, which was not too far from the Dragon anyway at this point, "Hi there, little guy. I'm Serena," introducing herself. He wouldn't hurt them... right? If they did not hurt him, then... he would not hurt them? Serena tried to show she was not a threat by keeping her distance a little so he did not think she was going to attack him.

ACTIONS: Call the dragon 'cute' and introduce self to him.

✸ Get stabbed in the foot and screams like a Banshee!
✸ Bleed as the birds are removed...
✸ Accept the tie from Dorothy.
✸ Deny Eris' plea to leave.
✸ Use blood from foot wound and Dorothy's arm to refill Max's cup.
✸ Pick up and hold the 'test of brawn' arm in the place on the statue with the bulging biceps.

Nothing was happening. He'd done something for the first part of the puzzle but he still needed to do something with the faces and arms - those would be the key to solving this. It was a mix and match game that there may be no real right answer to, so he'd just have to pick the best he could and hope that it awarded with him with the best prize. If a prize was even what he'd get from this. Max had no idea how it was supposed to end or if this would just lead to more puzzles that required more sacrifice, but he was determined to see it through. That was the only thing he kept thinking as he rubbed the back of his wrist over his mouth to try to feel something other than the over-salivation he was getting from the nausea, smudging red that he barely noticed.

He'd hurt Dorian, hadn't he? In all the mess of entrails and the sounds, he hadn't realized until now. He should also process the rest of the situation - Alan was acting strange and looked starry-eyed, Dorothy was bonkers and he still wasn't sure why, and Eris had just ran in to see if they were alright. That was good, that was great, because Eris could look after Dorian while Max put his mind to figuring this out. There, situation assessed. He tapped his foot almost unconsciously as he looked between the faces and arms to try to decide which ones should be used. Smirking... a trickster seemed more likely to appreciate a blood sacrifice than a hero, and a pitcher fit with the glasses more. Yeah, that would do.

His thought process was briefly interrupted by Alan asking about using Scourgify, and he shifted his eyes to the other boy for a moment without turning his head. His hands were still red and there were flecks of bird under his nails - he knew because if he concentrated hard enough, he could feel them pressing against his nail beds. "I don't know that spell," he said flatly, and perhaps he could've tried to clean his hands on his robes but he knew that if he began he wouldn't stop scrubbing, wouldn't be able to solve this mystery. That was all that could matter now, because you had to take these things one step at a time. Cold logic was the key to this adventure, not emotions.

Before he could say more, Eris was suddenly pleading with them to leave and the Hufflepuff girl was agreeing. Did Dorian feel the same way after the unfortunate turn things had taken? Was that how they all felt - that, after coming this far, they were just going to leave? It would make everything meaningless, from the humiliation of the heels to the bloody end he'd given the birds. No. There was no way he was going to let it end here.

"If you guys want to go, then go ahead," he told them in a voice that was colder than necessary as he began to gather up the pieces of the statue he'd selected. Real life meant you got hurt and sometimes you had to push through it. None of them seemed injured enough to pose an actual threat to their health, so...

He was fully prepared to go it alone when Dorian stepped up despite his injuries and picked up the arm Max hadn't. The other Gryffindor also seemed intent to finish what was started with the blood, and for once since coming to this school, Max felt so in sync with another person that he grinned fiercely despite everything going on. No emotions, but maybe this was what true friendship was - instinctively knowing what to do on adventure. Letting the pitcher arm slip away, Max's grin faded to be replaced by a look of cold determination as he held the smirking head. Maybe it wouldn't make much sense, but an arm was an arm.

"We finish this now or we have no right to call ourselves Gryffindors," he stated, leveling a look at Eris that said everything he wouldn't say out loud. Then he nodded at Dorian and stepped forward to fit the smirking face onto the statue, completing it as best they could. It was only after he'd done that that he realized there was a threat coming at him in the form of Alan, and he had no time to ponder the situation before his reflexes made him dodge as well as he could under the circumstances, pressing himself to the statue so that the boy should fall past him.

ACTIONS:
-Put the smirking face on the statue while Dorian puts the arm on
-Attempt to dodge Alan

Final day!

C-C-C-Come on...c-c-c-come on...

The coffin was extremely tough for the weak boy to handle on his own, especially in the terrible state he was in. He couldn't seem to get any leverage on the narrow ledge of the coffin. Was it rusted or something? That option seemed like it could easily be a reality, considering both the crazy strange magical properties of this cave and the circumstances around him. Was the lock rusted, or was Anatole just terribly weak?

Well, the weak seemed like it was more likely, especially since Aurelia had wrapped her fingers around the edge of the coffin also.

But right as he was going to thrust the lid up, he heard something and the coffin vibrated ever so slightly. Laughter? Was that...laughter? What?

Okay, right when Anatole had sworn he had finally come back to the present, this took him by surprise. "What was that?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. Practically shrugging it off, Anatole leaned his back onto the coffin and latched his hands onto it from below. Meeting eyes with her, he was ready to get this deed done. Maybe they had already found a reward! That would be great...but if it laughed, it could have meant the return of the girl. Oh dear.

On the mental count of three, Anatole began to exert all the strength he had on the lid (to no avail), but yet it seemed to float off once Aurelia threw her amazing might in. It was almost as if Anatole didn't lift up the lid; that's how strong she was. Oh Lord, did Anatole know it from that kick! The pain still radiated where she had hit.

The torch still on the floor, Anatole peered toward the freshly opened coffin. He saw a silhouette with frazzled short hair and a smile. "Hallelujah!" A familiar voice echoed in the room, but Anatole couldn't come up with a name in the grim light.

"Wh...Who's there?"

All of a sudden, he recognized her. Ami...uhm...Progressive? Popsicle? Aha! He had it.

Ami-i-i-i...Ami-i-i-i...Ami-i-i-i...Procoppio.

The same girl he had met in the shop on Diagon Alley was now the same girl coming off of a dusty coffin and shoving some other kid off of her. Great! Anatole, still crumbled on the floor, just gave a breathless wave and a peculiar smile. As swift as the strange girl had disappeared, Ami swept up Anatole into a hug. "Oh...uh...you're welcome?" She didn't look burnt. Good. Then, she didn't have to know about his misdemeanor.

The two girls beside him had already begun to part ways: Aurelia toward where they came, Ami toward the second coffin. "Ami!" He called from afar, "Come back! Take my torch! I need to go with Aurelia." Anatole used his good leg to prop himself on the edge of the coffin. "Aurelia, wait up!" Leaving the torch on the floor and adjusting the banana-hammock towel on his ankle, Anatole pushed himself off the edge and began to dash towards Aurelia (high heels in hand, torch by the coffin). "I...I need a bit of help getting up though...Ami! Amadea! John! I'll be back!"

He decided he trusted them enough to uncover the coffin, but he refused to let this new girl go on her own. Going alone was dangerous, and if he didn't move fast enough, he would be alone himself.

Surprisingly, the boy managed to limp to the stairs, where he felt like he was hung up. Yet, he continued further with heels in hand and burning, gravel-scratched and calloused feet below. The way Anatole kept at the same speed screamed danger and terror.

But of course, he didn't know that.

"Professor...Lear? Professor...Cazarez?"

Pacelsus

Mentions: Rosie and Lucy, Solomon and Sebastian

A true Slytherin indeed, full of ambition and greed. What had possessed Pacelsus to free the great Basilisk, he knew the inherent danger of doing such and yet he 'carelessly' provided the serpent with the means of egress. Rosie was hardly an afterthought. Why would she be anything more, she was an irrelevant. Was anyone else his responsibility? The others had their lives to live and Pacel had his. Importance was graded on their relevance, their relevance to him was insignificant so therefore they were irrelevant.

Pacelsus' greed came with a prize, an immediate reward, a momentary sweet for the bitter things that had already come to pass. A star sapphire ring, housed in silver. Something that Pacel would clandestinely pocket. No witnesses. No problem. That was a nice thought at least. The chaos caused by the snake would likely detract from Pacelsus' dishonesty...

Roll for Hidden Action (Pacelsus): 10
Roll for Awareness (Rosie): 19 Success
Roll for Awareness (Lucy): 8 Failed

Only Rosie would have seen the fact that Pacelsus had taken -something- from the floor. She was too far away and the lighting was too dim to know exactly what but she would see him lean down, his fingers touch the ground and he would clasp something in his hand that he would shove into his pocket. It was too dim to know for certain that he had taken a prize, a memento, a souvenir. Yet Pacelsus was a boy of ambition and would one day become a man of even greater ambition. Ambition was necessary for excellence but it often came at a cost. There is a difference between avarice and excelling, being excellent. For every virtue there was a vice. Even the hero struggles. For the ambitious it was the pursuit of excellence and the curse of avarice. For the heroic it was forgetting those close to him. Being brave when you should be careful. Of dying young but not leaving behind a pretty corpse. For the loyal it was the man or woman that derived their power from their heart, from their love of others. It was what gave them cause and what gave them the strength to carry on. For those cursed by loyal, it made them fools blind to the terrible things they have allowed to pass unchecked because the devastating act was caused by a friend and a fiend.

They would have to embrace what they were -- ambitious or loyal, brave or wise. With each boon came a great challenge. There were some unfortunate ones that truly sat between words. Pacel was ambitious but he was also full of greed. Greed that blinded him to those around him, people that could make him better - stronger. People that could be worth fighting for. His bravery... more like a lack of logical fear, a consideration of consequence. Pacel's rise to power would be a concerning one. The girls were headed south, Pacelsus was also. Meanwhile, to the east, the direction that the Basilisk had taken off Pacel would hear something.

"What. What is that?" The sound was not coming from a far away place, Sebastian's voice strong.

"It's a Basilisk!" Another voice announced. There was a series of noises, as if someone dropped a stack of cookie sheets on the floor.

"Get your wand out!" Somebody was feeling either foolish or brave.

"No, not that!" Who knows what was actually grabbed. It might have been funny if the tone was not so sharp, so urgent.

"Get down!" The Professor's voice bellowed.

"Oh God, it got me... MY ARM! Get the kids and tell my ex wife I sometimes might love her..." Apparently the warning was not heard or it was heeded too late. A terrible noise, a squelching sound followed by a sharp snap that sounded similar to a branch being broken in twain.

"No, we are going to make it out of here. You don't need your arm!" That sounded less than reassuring. Sebastian was not good with the rallying speeches.

"ARRRRAAAAGGGHHH!" A ripping noise. A guttural scream.

"...or your other arm." There was some hesitation, almost a grimace that could be felt from the tone of his voice.

"ARRAAAAGGGHH!" Another scream, that can't be good.

"..or ...you know what, I got the kids. Hold them off Solomon buddy!" 

There was a clamorous series of sounds, like metal pans being crunched, crushed. There were these noises, they might have been screams but in all truth it was hard to say what that sound was. Then the screaming stopped. The silence was somewhat uncomfortable and protracted. Pacel could pursue the dangerous creature or he could walk the other way, explore and hope that the serpent has had its fill before he returned to the common room. Perhaps there was something Pacelsus could take off their remains as well. Too dark? Yeah, well probably.

Rather that do the foolish, the incredibly brave or greedy option, the Slytherin Gryff would move south. The girls had already started to head in that direction. Rosie made a lot of noise so if there was something terrible then she would be like the loudest canary before she died.

How did you get sorted into the Gryffindor House?  

Lucy, Rosie

Mentions: Max, Dorian

Lucy was face to face with a fall that could lead her to her death. Even with the lit wand clutched into her hand she could only see so far down into the depths of that chasm. She could not see the bottom, but she would know that a swarm of bats at the very least waited for her down there. She could have gone down there, satisfied some sick Gryffindor curiosity but she chose not to. The young Hufflepuff inched away from the ledge and did not pursue danger and adventure by climbing down. 

Maintain Lumos. Roll: 1.

Her Lumos would not maintain anyways. The wand would extinguish, plunging the young blonde into darkness. There was some light, a dim light cast from Pacelsus' torch, the lone source of light in this cavern space. Hardly able to see the edge any longer, she would be drawn to Pacelsus' light like a moth to a flickering flame.

She would see Rosie...

Poor Rosie was the Hufflepuff House woobie. It was amazing how this unassuming girl, the one that was abandoned by her friends and unnoticed by her housemates and fellow adventurers adjacent would garner enough attention to be eventually made a Prefect in a few short months. Yet somehow she would go from a furry chained to the wall, left alone to die to a Basilisk would be one of the rare few entrusted with ensuring order in the school community.

For now however, Dorian and Max were more important. The prizes were more important. If nothing else, one could say that Rosie made an adorable kitten. An adorable and now FREE kitten. Sadly, her peers would as soon as drown her as keep her. Rosie would have to take things into her own hands. Earn her own freedom. She unhooked the clasp and she was no longer tethered to the door. The chain was still quite heavy, the lock around her neck not as simple a thing to open, but perhaps in time she would think of it more as a gift than a hindrance. She was the only child here that was armed with something more reliable than a wand.

Lucy would run over to the unfortunate furry and offer Rosie the help she had up until this point failed to get. A barrage of questions would probably leave the unfortunate first year's head spinning. She had just narrowly escaped the Basilisk with her life. She was chained and humiliated. Left for dead. Her importance worth less than the promise of a prize, a bauble.

Thankfully Lucy was a Hufflepuff.

Lucy would encourage Rosie to play a gambler's game. Go back through the door that did this to her. There was a chance that everything could be reversed if she had done what the puzzle requested but it was equally possible that the curse would be compounded. That there was a different riddle to exit this room. That she might reveal a deep and terrible secret and nothing would change, it just would not get worse. Was there another way out even? If so, what perils would await them as they traversed this labyrinth?

The dialogue between them was brief as Rosie monologued her suffering. But Rosie was braver than she realized. It was OK to fear, overcoming that fear was how someone became brave. A Hufflepuff does not lack bravery, much like a Gryffindor does not lack loyalty although sometimes that is the case, but rather loyalty and friendship, a concern for others is what defined her the most. Every attribute of every house, even Slytherin defined an attribute of a true hero as well as a potential fiend.

Rosie the loyal and the brave did not forget the voice that called out to her. Someone was calling out for 'help' to the south. Rosie's keen sense of sound had identified such and her heart and conscience would not let her forget that. The Hufflepuff had every reason to go back, to forget Lucy and to forget Eris, to return to the Professors and beseech their protection. Of course there was a Basilisk there.

Not Rosie.

Someone needed her help but she was too weak and too scared to travel alone. She was a Hufflepuff and Hufflepuffs were always strongest in pairs. Rosie would head south, ahead of Lucy following the direction of the sound she had heard. This time Rosie was not going to be left alone but she was a bit faster than Lucy. The were-cat [no, not really] would make it to the very edge of Pacelsus' torchlight, beyond that was only darkness. Sadly Lucy's light had already gone out so her wand was of no assistance. To Rosie's right there was the sound of running water. She could hear moving water directly in front of her as well. The air was moist, it made her skin/fur dewy to the touch.

The sounds of distress grew louder.

"Help! Help me PLEASE!"

The fairly nearby voice begged from the darkness to the southwest.

"I won't tell anybody I swear"

The voice cried, sobbed in fact. As they were both a bit closer, even Lucy could hear something. She would not be able to make out the words over the sound of rushing water but she would be able to recognize the sound as a voice. She would not recognize the voice as anyone of particular importance, but Lucy would be observant enough to know a voice when she heard it.

Pacelsus, Rosie and Lucy

The darkness would start to recede a bit, as if the shadows were being beckoned away. Someone was coming, the crunch of gravel behind heralded his presence. Pacelsus was holding a torch and the stubborn flames had not gone out quite yet. The Gryffindor's pocket was weighted by only a mere bauble, a ring. He had space for so much more. So many had already moved west. To the north there was bats, Lucy did not last long there before she was deterred. The east was from whence he came and there was now a Basilisk there as well as the death cries of his Professors.

Pacel's torch would cast shadows that would dance a wild almost frenzied dance. The water glittered, as if filled with flakes of gold as it reflected the torchlight. Indeed they were in another part of the cave, this area more rugged, the tile floor replaced with gravel. The rough walls of the cavern opened up like a great mouth, the stalactites and stalagmites like great teeth ready to bite down on them. On the other side of a narrow body of water was a HOUSE ELF. He looked badly beaten, he was laying down on the ground. He was alive and he was moving, he struggled to lift his head.

"Heeeelp me! I'm Sooorrrry!"

The pitiful creature cried.

This cry for help was obvious, even to Pacelsus whom was the closest. The girls would of course not be much further away, in reasonably close speaking distance. Was there any obvious chest? No. Was there a sign, a rune or a warning of any sort? No. Just a single, badly injured house elf and a body of water that had a slightly pink sheen now that one takes a closer look.

Eris

Mentions Rosie, Max and Dorian

Eris would leave Rosie to her fate. She did not look like she needed help anyways -- apparently the Basilisk on the ceiling was a non-concern. The Hufflepuff's cries for help and the fact that she was tethered like a sacrificial lamb, a poor indication of distress. 

Eris Maintains Lumos. Roll: 4

Thankfully there were other sources of light in the cavern room. Eris' wand flickered out and she would find a bloody mess in the next room. The corpses of two dead birds, both in dear Maxwell's hand. Max and Dorian were both covered in blood, this was a room of death. Dorian was hurt, his bare foot was bleeding and there was a gaping hole in the center of his foot. The scent of stale blood would permeate this space, it was stomach-churning. Stray feathers and splotches of blood marked the site of the murder, the site of their sin.

Dorothy

Mentions Max and Dorian

Dorothy made a terrible drunk. Max might be a sociopath. Dorothy was not hallucinating, that was not an effect of this intoxication. Perhaps the beer goggles that give ugly people dates would also make this memory more aesthetically pleasing. A drunken lie would have been a better explanation than the truth. The blood was red paint. No, Catsup. That explanation was better, lies were often better than the truth.

Dorothy's stomach would feel uneasy, as if there was a raccoon somersaulting inside a bag of potato-chips. A burning sting would creep up the back of her throat and the taste of bile could be felt on the back of her tongue. It was coming, this was the quickening before the purge. Then out it came, like a terrible faucet. Like a toxic water-mane had broken, the breech being her mouth. The output was ungodly, but there was obviously no god here. Look at what Max and Dorian had already done.

After the contents of her gut had been evacuated, Dorothy was sober. She might miss the feeling from before. The carelessness. The obviousness. Yes, it was different from what she normally was even if some of the @$$holes she was adventuring with would disagree. She was having a better time drunk. 

Now that sobriety had overtaken her, she realized that her arm had a deep laceration. It was still bleeding and it had not yet started to scab. Her stomach was empty but thankfully she was unlikely to have much of an appetite for awhile although a stick of gum would be epic right now. The taste of vomit still in her mouth and the contents just adjacent to her shoes.

Alan, Eris, Dorothy, Dorian and Max
Mentions Rosie

SCREAM for me Dorian Grey!

Max's stiletto would pierce his flesh, break through his skin and pry apart the fine bones in his feet. Once the heel retracted from the student's flesh Dorian would feel a hollow in his own foot, as if something was now missing. An ache. A sting.

Love hurts... At least for Alan Vanes. Max was a godly figure, the sort that the Gods themselves would have molded from their own image and become envious of the result. It was dangerous having such terrible beauty in a place such as this. Others have seen Max, his loveliness. They were not worthy. Alan was not worthy. Yet they did not love Max they way Alan did. His love was pure and it was deep. Look at those eyes, those crystal-like orbs that seemed to reflect only the best part of Alan's soul. That devious smirk, just the right amount of danger. That... well, let's not continue as such, Max was likely a humble man.

The problem was THEM. They were too close. They were in Max's space.

Alas, poor dear Alan had the strength of an infant bunny or an exceptionally buff Leeds but despite this physical limitation he was now tasked with preserving Max's perfection. Eris was obviously the villain here -- first she was a girl [a beared one at that] and those were just gross [even without the beards]. Second, she was Eris and her reputation preceded her. She would destroy Max's virtue, trade it for a pack of cards. Third and most important, she was too close to Max. Yes, she was reaching out for Dorian but Max's perfect, likely soft and supple flesh mere inches from her dirty dwarvan fingers. 

“Max! She could be dangerous, let me protect you!”

Dorian was on his own. Eris can have him. It is not as if Eris could do a mug like his much harm.

Of course Alan was doing the opposite of 'protecting' as he clutched onto Max as if it was the beginning of a bad 1980's sci-fi movie. Or a marvel movie with the damsel clutching onto the hero trope.

Alan Dramatic Embrace Attack 11

Max Touch Evasion 12

Target: 1 - Dorian 2 - Max. Roll: 1

Mentions Leslez as the "unfortunate bloke". Mentions Rosie and Anatole

Whelp, Rosie was a goner. Amadea had no idea what to do with her. She was unconscious, that was probably not good. Hopefully someone else knew what to do. Perhaps it was some sort of condition that every Rosie shares -- abandonment seemed to come with the name.

Oh look, a penny Ami! Indeed there was something uplifting about finding your friend in a coffin. Amadea was excited to see her less than deceased friend emerge from the catafalque after flinging some unfortunate bloke that was laying on top of her onto the ground. 

Ami had things to do, answering Amadea's questions not initially among them as she tasked herself with opening the second coffin. The story of how Ami ended up in the coffin was going to have to wait, there was a classmate to save! Or a ghoul to unbury. 

Amadea would address Anatole, maybe the boy could be of service. Perhaps he knew how to clean up the mess that he had already made. If nothing else, the onus of Rosie's recovery was transferred so Amadea could concentrate on Ami's present task. Opening the coffin. That was how this worked right, tell someone else to do the task you were nearest and hope for the best.

The problem for Rosie was thus: everyone always runs the other way when a Rosie was in peril.

Mentions Anatole

John discovered a coffin weighted down with a pile of rocks. Instead of clearing the lid, john did the only reasonable thing:



Check to see if anyone is home. A female voice would answer the noise. It would be the disembodied voice coming from Howie's necklace.

"Who's there?"

"Hello."

"Hello who?"

John  best know some decent knock-knock jokes.

John would then push aside the stones that weighed down the coffin lid. [Reduces lid opening DC] Distracted by a flesh wound, yes John was singed due to Anatole's attack and the throbbing ache necessitated a cure. John would press the cool wand against his throbbing flesh, it would feel good. It was as if his mother's lips were made of pure ice and her lips were kissing away the ouchies [the technical term]. His arm would be pain-free after only a few seconds of contact. In fact the redness, that angry sear was no longer even visible. It was as if he was never burned in the first place. 

How shocking, a burn-protection item down a tunnel with Hufflepuffs. It was not even a concern that the devastation might be caused by a Gryffindor. Perhaps teaching children how to cast flames was not a great idea. this would be the what... third incident involving fire and personal injury this year.

He might not have been entirely up to snuff but he was no longer injured. [No HP recovery, however the burns have been completely healed.]

The newly freed youth [Ami] would identify another mound adjacent to her own. It was a little longer than any of them were tall. John was already there assessing the strange site. Conversing with the earth and box it contained like a weirdo. Ami's response was obvious and immediate -- get the dang lid off and who the heck is Rosie?

Strength Check Ami: 12

Ami's mighty little noodle arms were not quite enough to lift the lid but she could feel it start to rise. Her free hand would clutch onto her wand, she needed to maintain her concentration to keep her Lumos lit.

Maintain Lumos. Roll: 6

Ami's wand would flicker and dim, it almost went out! Concentrate girl, that was too close.

Amadea was going to try to help, she would summon the sum of her pre-teen strength and attempt to help lift the lid. With likely a grunt of exertion...

Strength Check: 6

Their combined efforts would be enough to unseal the lid.


Mentions John

Howie was trapped in that casket for what felt like weeks despite the fact that mere minutes had passed. A voice would speak to him in the darkness, soothing perhaps in any other situation she requested a story. A distraction. Something to calm his nerves. The voice certainly made an effort but Howard might be just a tad high-strung.

Howie shared a story with the darkness, with the voice. There is a lot that can be gleamed from the stories we choose to share. How we phrase it. How we remember it. It was the day that his parents learned he was a wizard. It was something hard for any parent to take -- the revelation that your child was something different, something unexpected, something you did not envision. The muggle world and the magical world were kept separate by the thinnest of veils, one of smoke, mirrors and lies.

"Awww... doll, there is so much that neither of us understands and we have learned to be sca'ed of what we do not know. She loves ya babe," she soothed. "Mothers always love their kin." It was of course a lie, you can hate your own. You could be horrified by what you made. By what was yours. That was why there was the ability to forget.

Howard would then demand his freedom.

"I am just a gem, I can't be helping you outta this one," she replied. "Not my job even if I could. You see, there is a lesson to be learned here."

Howard was understandably panicked, he was after all buried alive. He would continue to cry out for help, beating the silken lining with his fists. His hands would feel sore. 

"You got friends Howie-babie..." the voice reassured him or at least tried. "They'll be coming for yah." Even the voice was not entirely certain, but the voice was capable of hope. This was a lesson and its maker hoped that these children were worth teaching.

There was scraping on the top of the coffin, heavy rocks were being removed. Howie could her it and Howard would call out, his voice muffled. A rapping would then be heard.



The voice would call back loudly, "Who's there?"

"Hello."

"Hello who?"

"They're coming... they're coming..." She repeated in barely a whisper. Howard was sweating, restless and scared. It was hard to depend on someone. Perhaps it was hard to believe that someone was coming for him. Would he have come for them if the situation was reversed? The answer to that would also answer the question regarding whether or not he was worth saving.

"There is power in being present," the voice reassured him. It was trying to calm him but it was also trying to teach him. "That is why you were sorted into Hufflepuff, because you are loyal. That is the heroic trait that you posses and so don't they. But loyalty and being there is not a person's natural inclination is it? For the sake o' self preservation the average person turns tail and runs. You're weak alone but impossibly strong together..." He would not remain buried and forgotten, not for long. These kids were quick studies even if they didn't have a damn clue. They were heroes because they were loyal and they were brave. Because they are worth saving and those they are saving are worth saving.

Howie, John-John, Amadea and Ami

The lid of the coffin would be lifted open. As it did, cool air would rush inside the box -- the warm stale air a respite. Howie was free, yes he was housed in this coffin and he was sealed no longer. He seemed intact, in good health even if he was traumatized and likely soaked in sweat. The only thing that was out of the ordinary was the great necklace around his neck, it was the gaudiest thing anyone would have ever seen.



Serena was catching on: On their own, they were rather useless but together, they were successful. Yes, a puzzle solved!

Cynthia would witness the dragon emerge. She was right, if the blue tiles were placed in the arrangement instead then a Kelpie would have been summoned instead. How would that have worked? Also, since when did dragons talk? There was not much that made sense in this adventure. It was as if they were Alice walking in a wonderland.

Well, this dragon did.

Frost was more excited than Cynthia, she would meander her way over to the dragon with caution and care. A dragon fearful of a human... of please. Humans fear dragons, not the other way around.

"Hello, there. I'm Frost!"


The girl was excited, it was etched into her face. This might have been her first time encountering a dragon or a dragon-like creature.

The dragon quickly scampered up Reid's leg, he needed a better vantage point to demonstrate his glory.

Dragon 'Attack': 9
Reid Dodge: 15

"I got a torch, two hands, and I'm not afraid to - ... "

That was a threat. Two hands and fire, a Hufflepuff's greatest and most dangerous power. He would note the dragon's approach, attempt to climb and he would do the obvious thing -- avoid AVOID AVOID! Reid stepped out of the way, leaving Serena wide open.

Dragon 'Attack': 8
Serena Dodge: 4

[The dragon would climb up Serena's leg and then over her back before he would perch on Serena's shoulder. The 'dragon' was only about 5 kilograms which was still a sizable weight but by no means massive. The red dragon would puff out is chest and spread its wings, making himself look as big as possible. "And I am the indomidable Mushu. What have you summoned me here for? A band of dangerous and fearful villagers with pitchforks. Taking back the North? A really big barbecue in need of a light? I can do it all and more!" He claimed as his feet pranced on Serena's shoulder.

"Cute"

The reckless Prefect muttered. Mushu would look at the incorrigible child with an indignant look.

"AAAA! IT'S SO CUTE!"

"I am a valiant and powerful beast. I am not CUTE!" His wings flapped as if to make a point.

"Hi there, little guy. I'm Serena."

"Little guy!" The  dragon repeated, his eyes wide with anger as it sought higher ground. Reid was the highest point. "It's not the size of the ship but the..."

Dragon 'Attack': 15
Reid Dodge: 20

Wings spread their full span and Mushu (yes, too lazy to come up with my own name) would attempt to take flight. The flap of powerful wings would hold him aloft and when sufficient height was obtained he would attempt to glide onto the crown of Reid's head. Reid would duck out of the way and the dragon would gracelessly crash into the ground. With a tumble the little creature would rush to his uh... talons and strike a pose as if to say -- I meant to do that. "The motion of the ocean~" Of course it takes a long time to get to china by rowboat but that was a debate for a later time.

Ew, ew, ew! The hufflepuff had puked, oh god, yuck. Eris couldn't handle anymore gore or puke, or anything really. Could they just have a normal night? Eris's hand shook, as the light from her wand went out with one last flash of light, before it flickered and resumed showing it's feeble light. Even in the near-darkness, Eris could see the puke and blood on the hufflepuff girl, and set aside her vendetta towards the other girl. She had been through enough. Eris didn't need to make it worse. No, she needed to get everyone out, she needed to get back to Rosie, and they needed to run. "Oh my god, are you okay?" Obviously, Dorothy wasn't okay, but Eris had no other words, voice sputtering and dying out as Dorian refused her hand and took Dorothy's, mingling their blood together.

"I'm not your bitch, Dorian." Eris replied, in an instant. He had taught her too well. The girl really could rival him in terms of idiotic gestures. She didn't really know what her words meant, but whatever. "I'll shine a light for you, but only because I want to. Not because you ordered me, okay?"

Then Max spoke, and Eris's face heated a shade of crimson. Did she want to be called a Gryffindor after all of this? He was right, and Max knew it. She would have to stay. Sorry Rosie. How had one girl's attempt to save everyone backfired so horribly? Eris should of never left Rosie alone, and the mere thought of all she had done wrong brought bitter tears to Eris's eyes. She had killed Rosie Parker! Or maybe she hadn't. Hopefully Rosie was okay, maybe she was okay. Oh god, Eris had no idea. Choking back a sob, Eris's voice came out in a whisper of a croak. "I'm sorry, Dorian, you're right. You both are."

Eris took a second to wipe the tears off her face, before moving up to stand by Dorian, shining the light from her wand on the statue, as he took the blood from Dorothy and himself, while Max collected the pieces of the statue to put it together. Oh dear, she felt lightheaded. This was digusting, really. Dorian and Dorothy's blood mingled with the bird blood in the cups, and once they were done dripping blood, Eris's shaking wand finally gave out completely. Her wand was now devoid of light, but Eris was not fearful of the darkness.

Not anymore. Her fear turned to rage. Rage towards the professors for the way they were making them suffer, rage that this was all for a few pathetic prizes, rage that she had been so stupid with Rosie and even more upsetting towards her friends. They had been through so much, of course they would want to stay. There was no turning back now. Everything was maddening, and as Eris's tears dried, her resolve hardened. She would see her friends through this, and make sure they got the best prizes. She would make sure they didn't suffer for nothing. Setting a silent prayer aside for Rosie, Eris finally allowed herself the blessed release of anger. Red hot, all consuming anger.

Her rage was safe, and when the blonde boy wrapped his arms around Max and declared Eris a threat, a laugh drew it's self out of Eris's lips. "I'm sorry, and who are you and what are you doing to Max? Are you daft? Dorian is bleeding out, Dorthoy is bleeding, and you're complaining about me being dangerous while clinging to Max like a monkey?"

Dear god. Who was this kid, and why was he clinging to Max? "But seriously," Eris turned to Max and Dorian, "Who i- oh my god."

What was that. WHAT WAS THAT? It was a creature from Eris's nightmares. All the muscles! That was not a man. That was not a statue. That was a demon. A stupid blonde demon her friends had got hurt freeing. If the thing was looking for laughter, or looking for children eager to see it's dramatics, it would not find that from Eris. Pathetic. Her friends had bled, had gotten hurt for this ugly sexist?

Why was he clinging to Dorian? Dorian was hurt already, what was this blonde buffoon doing? Underage drinking was not allowed. Even Lear had to know that! Well, obviously not, if Dorthy had been drunk. What was going on? The somber tone from minutes before was receding, as the insane man attempted to fight Dorian.

Eris was having none of that.

"Seriously? You give blood to this ugly piece of stone,and it turns into some childish man? The professors are evil." They had made the children suffer, and for what? Some stupid man, who wanted to fight children?

Addressing Dorian, Eris's wand hung limply in her hand, ready to point at the statue and cast a spell if the moment called for it."I know you can beat him, without a doubt, but you're hurt, Dorian. Are you sure you can still do it?" She had no doubt that Dorian could beat the thing, but he was hurt, and the statue was a million times bigger.

Right. Light, they needed light, anyways. Everyone was busy, Eris should do something, besides glaring at the demon spawn grabbing Dorian.

ACTIONS:
۞re-cast lumos.
۞ be an angry mess of a pre-teen gnome.