The Third Fan-Fic, written by our own Pirate Jesus, helping to establish the Elder Cave as the semi-mythical place it is...
midgetshrimp wrote:1000th Post Elder Cave Fanfic
Stray in the Midst
Loosening the drawstring on his soft leather belt pouch, the robed figure carefully selected a hand full of small elongated items. As accustomed to them as he was, he still had to blink as the hard smell of spices wafted from his hand to his face. How any creature could handle these, he did not know. His musings scattered as he started forward, noting the number of bulky masses between him and his destination. As he already knew, he had brought just enough. Silent as a shadow, he crept along the boulder strewn entrance to the cave. Getting as close to the boulder shaped mounds as he dared, the figure counted under his breath as the seconds ticked by. Confident that he had not been heard, he stood, tossing one of the strange items toward each of the mounds, crouching to listen as he waited. He could hear the mounds stir, their bulk roused by the sudden willful aroma. Removing his gloves, the figure buried them, making sure none of the scent was traceable back to him. All of a sudden roars split the night, fearful if not pained. He chuckled. The caves own devices used against them. He flattened himself against the boulder he occupied as numerous mounds, now recognizable at such close range as bears, raced past him. Cthulu fries would have any sensible creature running for water. As he began to rise, heavy paw-steps spun him around. He found himself face-to-face with a straggler. Odd as it was, the bear’s fur was dyed pink, and it stared at the robed man with as much curiosity as the man viewed it. Thinking fast, the man snapped his fingers and pointed over the bear. Surprised, the bear followed the finger, and when it looked back, the man was gone.
Making his way swiftly toward the cave, the robed man only stopped once he reached the gate. Peering inside, he saw a lone guard. Again odd, with strikingly green skin. Pulling a small frame from one of his robe pockets, he slid it along the floor. That should take his mind off his duty, the man thought. The guard jumped at the scraping sound of the frame sliding across the floor, but after a swift look around, he quickly bent down and snatched it up. With another quick glance about, he studied the frame intently. Peering through the gate, the man tossed a small rock into the entryway. When the guard showed no reaction, the robed figure whisked through the gate, and keeping to the cavern wall, plunged beyond the unsuspecting guard and into the darkness unseen.
He could hear the rippling of running water. Running over his head. He glanced up, but all he saw was darkness. Turning his thoughts back to the task at hand, he ignored the sound and continued down the hallway. Polished pillars rose to intangible heights, the granite floor chased with precious metals. Sconces protruded from the pillars, heavily embedded with jewels catching and casting light across the hall. The place was kept meticulously. All of the details floated by him as he concentrated on the lone door now not twenty paces from him. There were no bears here, no guards. Yet something felt out of place. As he wracked his brain for the missing piece, an apparition materialized from the wooden door. The robed man dove instinctually behind a pillar, landing in a roll that brought him back to his feet. Using a small square of flat steel, he viewed the ghost in the reflection. If it had seen or heard him, it showed no sign. Looking back at the door, the ghost, pink like the odd bear, scratched his head and shrugged. Without another look at the door or the hallway, the apparition nonchalantly dissolved into one of the walls. Impatiently stuffing the steel piece back into his robe, the man set for the door. Testing the latch, he found it unlocked. Another oddity. Without wasting another moment, he wrenched the door open, tumbling back nimbly as a row of daggers shot from the far wall. Taking a torch from one of their sconces, the man tossed it into the through the doorway into the darkened room beyond.
He heard the flow of water again. He looked up, and noticed the first ceiling within sight. Setting his eyes on the room again, he saw choices presented to him. Across from him was another doorway. To the left and right were staircases, leading down to unknown depths. He started for the door, and as he reached for the latch, he heard a voice. He spun around, dagger and mace in hands, but no one was there. Still he could hear a voice, not loud enough to understand, but it was there. Warily he turned back to the door, and jumped, startled. It was open.
The roaring waterfall was sudden and as unexpected as the voice. Barely an arm’s length before him, the cascade fell, crisp and clear. He could feel its sweet cool breeze across his body, fanning his robe open. Drawing the robe close and tying it off against him, he stepped through the curtain of water. Ice flowed through him, or so it felt, for an interminable second. Then he was out. Dry, but that was his own making. He allowed himself a quick grin. It faded as he let his eyes wander. He was in a large cavern; neither the far wall nor the ceiling was visible. As far as he could see, the room consisted of a wide walk, circling an immense lake. Somehow the water was lit from beneath, though he couldn’t see the bottom despite the water being clear as glass. Few sconces stretched across this luminescent cavern, most light being provided by the large pool. Again he heard a voice. Voices, there were more now, still too faint to understand. As the robed man made his way cautiously along the walk around the water, figures began to break the surface. He wondered how he had not seen them rising from the depths, but pushed the thought from his mind. As he sank into the minimal shadows of the uneven cavern walls, he reached for their solidity, and found only air. Suddenly he was falling, down, down… down.
There was only darkness. The roar of the waterfall, the glow of the cavern, it had all disappeared long before he landed. When he came to, he reached for his mace, knowing the dagger lost in the fall. It too was not there. His robe was gone, his pouches and pockets. He wore naught but plain trousers and lace neck shirt. At least they were his. Closing his eyes, he sat cross legged on the floor, adapting to the darkness. When his eyes opened, they saw naught but outlines. All of a sudden flames leapt from sconces, and he had to shield his maladjusted eyes to the light. When his blindness subsided, again he studied his surroundings. The sconces spiraled up until there was just a speck of torchlight, the walls bare of all else, and the floor thickly covered in straw. One portcullised door was the only way out. To his surprise, the door opened and the portcullis lifted. He could see moving shadows beyond. None stepped forward; they seemed to be waiting for him. He heard the voices again. They were low murmurs, still with no words, but nonetheless he could feel their excitement. Slowly, he made his way to the doorway. He straightened himself stubbornly, brushing loose straw from his clothes. They knew he was here; he may as well hold some of his dignity. He stepped confidently through the doorway, and the voices ceased. There were people and creatures here. They sat in terraced rows, arcing from wall to wall, all with an equal view of him. A single large throne dominated the center of the assembly.
“You are in the Elder Cave,” boomed a voice from the throne, “without consent.” The voice, the man saw, belonged to a large bear, crowned and ostentatious. “We are the Elders. You will tell us why you are here. You have the time, for you not leave.” The man could see the Bear’s lip curl into a sardonic grin.
“You know too much.”