10.11.2005
Elsewhere
You pass through the mirror gate.
Applying the oil to the mirror causes it to transform, to shimmer and pulsate. It requires the entire vial, as there is not much oil to begin with. You each quickly step through the mirror with the last of your energy as the heaviness of this place descends upon you.
You are somewhere else.
Not Greyhelm, nor Grito, nor anyplace else you hoped to return to. Instead, it seems that you have simply moved laterally within this strange space.
You find yourselves collapsed on the tiled marble floor of a large hall. The realization of how cold and tired you were sinks in- here, you are not cold, and the fatigue you feel is somehow more natural. You still have your torch, but do not need it, as there is light within this place.
You are on the ground before a large oak door. The frame of the door is engraved in a similar manner to the mirror you just passed through. A large shiny iron padlock shuts the door tight.
Across the hall is another door. This door, however, is made of rusted iron. A grimy padlock, also the color of rust, keeps it shut. Around the door are engravings of weapons and scenes of battle.
To your left on the third wall is yet another door. This door is made apparently of glass or crystal, smoky and opaque. Astrological or alchemical symbols flank it. A padlock of crystal is in place.
Beside each door is a pair of lamps, shining softly.
The hall extends down to your right, in alternating black and white tiles, each about a foot square. Lining the hall are what seems to be six paintings, each covered with a white cloth. At the end is a final fourth door, of fine dark wood, engraved with vines and roses.
At the beginning of this hall to the right is a pedestal or lectern on which sits a folio, closed. On the cover is a picture of a butterfly or moth.
As you take this in, you have a sinking feeling that, rather than having escaped from somewhere, your visit to this place has just begun.
Applying the oil to the mirror causes it to transform, to shimmer and pulsate. It requires the entire vial, as there is not much oil to begin with. You each quickly step through the mirror with the last of your energy as the heaviness of this place descends upon you.
You are somewhere else.
Not Greyhelm, nor Grito, nor anyplace else you hoped to return to. Instead, it seems that you have simply moved laterally within this strange space.
You find yourselves collapsed on the tiled marble floor of a large hall. The realization of how cold and tired you were sinks in- here, you are not cold, and the fatigue you feel is somehow more natural. You still have your torch, but do not need it, as there is light within this place.
You are on the ground before a large oak door. The frame of the door is engraved in a similar manner to the mirror you just passed through. A large shiny iron padlock shuts the door tight.
Across the hall is another door. This door, however, is made of rusted iron. A grimy padlock, also the color of rust, keeps it shut. Around the door are engravings of weapons and scenes of battle.
To your left on the third wall is yet another door. This door is made apparently of glass or crystal, smoky and opaque. Astrological or alchemical symbols flank it. A padlock of crystal is in place.
Beside each door is a pair of lamps, shining softly.
The hall extends down to your right, in alternating black and white tiles, each about a foot square. Lining the hall are what seems to be six paintings, each covered with a white cloth. At the end is a final fourth door, of fine dark wood, engraved with vines and roses.
At the beginning of this hall to the right is a pedestal or lectern on which sits a folio, closed. On the cover is a picture of a butterfly or moth.
As you take this in, you have a sinking feeling that, rather than having escaped from somewhere, your visit to this place has just begun.
