Age of Exploration [0] - The Secret under Ravenwell [IC]

[JeenLeen]

Donovan starts to consider the offer. A lead on who is really behind it. And the money ain't nothing, neither.
Plus, as much as the murderer seems sincere, he also seems tricksey.

But Donovan isn't that street rat anymore, and this is the man who killed his friend.

"Constable, if you're really considering his offer... and, honestly, I am too, to a degree... but he might have friends lurking in the shadows. And, really, unless we break his arms or hands, I wouldn't feel completely sure of all three of us keeping him down, especially if backup showed up. Even if he gets his freedom, we can take away part of his ability to tinker if we cripple 'em.

What if, instead, we call back my mesmer friend and Volk. You saw both of them work. I'm pretty sure they'd manage to get the evidence and the money."

Turning back to Monk, he says, "You're right that I've been bluffing with my pets. I'm not up to torturing you, much as I want to see you hang. But I got the feeling my comrade has a rather... violent past. He might feel differently, especially if you're not helping us. Sure you don't wanna tell us now and save the trouble?"

Spoiler

Show

One final Intimidate, but plan on calling in the team to help extract clues if it fails.

(1d20+2)[18]

[Boethius Junior]

"Madam," Ridley starts, removing his cap and opting for a respectful nod, "it shall be done. Whatever our friend uncovered, I swear to you that I shall not rest until I have the answer." Leading the group on he hails another cab and begins the journey back to campus, hoping to reunite as was originally intended.

[Grek]

Lydia, having found out as much as she's able without time and tools that she honestly didn't have, elects to return to the campus and prepare once more for the investigation into the Metaphysics Basement.

[Magni's Hammer]

Monk's Confession

The malicious light dims in the thug's eyes at the prospect of another round with Volk and Ridley. He pulls away from the bars, further into the relative safety of his cell. "Now, eh, let's not be hasty, young man. Perhaps I might explain myself:

"I was out of the army and needed work. The university hired me, but I don't think it was for my teaching. I always wondered if Ravenwell had really wanted muscle, or maybe an army contact. Well, a few months ago the chancellor himself approached me about being needed for some rougher work. He didn't say more than that, but soon enough we were making a call on Professor Wash. You know, Thaddeus P.? That fat old history dean with the big mustache. 'parently he had let slip something he shouldn't have, and Damien and I were coming to 'chastise' him. You know, have mean old Monk take hold of his collar and shake him around a bit, just to impress upon him the need to keep...well whatever it was, quiet. Hmm, well old Wash wasn't much up to it. Hardly sooner than I lay a paw on the old turd and he's kicking on the floor, clutching his chest. He died right there in the living room. Stopped heart. Guess the stress was too much for him.

"Damien's real quiet, then. 'You killed him,' he says. Wash lived alone, and far as he said nobody knew we were there. He told me it would be best to keep this between ourselves. I knew what he meant, the evil bastard. I should have split town that morning. Hell, I should have cracked his head open right then and there. But I nodded like the fool I was and said nothing. He could hand me over to the authorities for murder any time he liked, and we both knew there'd be no tears for ol' mister Monk. So I go back to business like nothing's happened, and get ready for when the chancellor calls on me again, like I know he will.

"Now, I wasn't about to take this lying down. If I was going to be that old man's patsy, I had better know at least what I was in for. I still don't know much, but I've put together this much at least: the university had some kind of research deal, big money thing, very secret; very cloak-and-dagger; I think the government was involved, at least in paying for the idea. This must have been a long time ago, like decades. Wash was on it somehow, and the chancellor too. Well someone or something upsets it all. Maybe scandal, or the funding crumbles, or somebody on the inside panics. They shut it down fast and hard, and everybody swore they'd say nothing about it. Well, all's roses until Thomas comes sniffing along. I think he was hooked by some rich concern, and they were using him to ferret out whatever the project might have left behind. I don't think he knew what he was looking for, but he knew that Wash knew, and old man was dangerously close to spilling the whole scheme.

"So Wash is offed, and quick as winks Thomas gets his post, and all the work that comes with it. If Damien hoped that would scare him, or tie him down, it didn't; the man got more jittery, but he wasn't thrown off the trail. Soon enough the chancellor's calling on me; Farday is the last chance. I head up to Prest's office, make a big show, tell him all kinds of threats to make him call it off. He won't budge, not that I figured he would. It didn't matter since I already had orders for it. I went home, put together the kit I had been making, had a light rest, then set off early on an empty stomach."

Monk fixes Donovan with a haggard, steely-eyed stare. He looks weak now, almost tired. "I killed Thomas Prest at his kitchen door, one bullet through the heart. I think I might have killed his dog too. Then I set off back to wait for his secretary; I had to make sure there was nobody left to keep the search going. And it was all under the chancellor's orders, the whole time, because I'd already killed Wash and he'd turn me over in a heartbeat if I wasn't staying useful."

Finished, he slides down to the floor of his cell, back against the bars, head hung. "You got all that, constable?" Antony gives a quiet nod from his notebook. Monk looks to Donovan again. "That's the whole of it, boy, and all true. I swear that; on my mother's soul I swear that. I've got no foolish dreams about what's coming for me; I know what's next up now." After that he stays slumped, and says nothing more.

[JeenLeen]

Any happiness Donovan had at getting the testimony fades as he hears the story. Monk's not a good person, but he was trapped in this.

"Hmmm... well, thank you. Maybe if you turn over that cache of funds, the constables might treat you more hospitably, but I don't think you'll be leaving. Constable, please post reliable guards. Those that won't be tempted by bribery either from Monk or anyone the chancellor might send to silence him. You should also limit visitors, lest he wind up with a bullet in his head. We may need his personal testimony if this involves higher-ups.

Monk, I'll try to keep you alive. Perhaps there'll be some lessened sentencing since you were coerced. The first death was an accident. The second... part of me still wants to see you hang, but the chancellor was the one behind it. You were just a weapon."

As he turns to leave, Donovan says quietly, "And, constables... keep in mind that if someone susceptible to bribery does free Monk, well, I'll have testimony of my own to your superiors. But if you are able to weasel some extra money from him for providing him comfort, I have no objections and can be discrete."

He snaps his fingers and Cloak Rat follows him. He then hails a cab and -- once he gets one willing to carry his pet with him -- gets a ride to meet up with his associates.

[Magni's Hammer]

Ravenwell University

It's now mid afternoon. The party has reassembled at the university green, ducking quietly into the alchemistry research building to hide from any attentive or curious crowds. Soon enough there will be newsmen knocking on your doors, eager for comment about the morning's heroics, but now there is work do be done. From her purse Lydia produces the maps of the metaphysics building Prest had left in Donovan's possession the night before. Somehow these must contain the clues to whatever lost Venture project hides in the university's past, something the chancellor wants buried at all costs.

Donovan shares Monk's confession with the group, how he was used by Chancellor Ravenwell to silence Wash, Prest, and very nearly Sebastian as well. Pointedly, he notes that Monk did not confess to ransacking Prest's office in the morning, suggesting the chancellor may have other agents still at large (that is, if the old man didn't do it himself). Ridley brings up the unusual presence he detected at both the Hothsdort and the symphony hall; Rhuk confirms that there was likely someone watching them as they apprehended Monk.

[Magni's Hammer]

Given this risk, the party decides that they must explore the metaphysics building as soon as possible, before their enemies have a chance to obscure or abscond with whatever may be hidden there. The plan is to meet under cover of darkness in an alley a block from the building, send someone up and in through a back window, then unlock one of the side doors and quickly scurry inside. From there you can proceed to the basement, to the stairwell where the cryptic note ("it's here") is scrawled on the building plans.

Volk, recalling that the professor had bought some supplies for the trip, suggests stopping at Ilien's Provisions sometime before nightfall, to collect any useful equipment or possible clues. Since you all believe that Prest was planning to eventually tell you all about the mystery, he might have put something valuable there.

[Boethius Junior]

"It would be best to prepare as much as we can, given the circumstances! If not even poor Thomas was exactly sure of the cellars's stash, then we can hardly do wrong to arm ourselves accordingly - ready all contingencies and what." Though a poor shot, Ridley will equip himself as available from among their late friend's stockpiles; allowing all applicable firearms have been dolled out to the superior warriors amongst them first.

[Magni's Hammer]

Ilien's Provisions

The hour is five past noon as your carriage rumbles down South Garnet Row. Ilien's is a modest shop not far from the docks, an outfitter for sportsmen and travelers. From the window you can see down the slopes to the great Nepenthe, yellow sunlight glimmering off river-water slick with oils and waste. Though not a poor district, the tanneries, leather-workers, and shoe factories of Brocking have steadily crept downstream towards Dawnside, to the disappointment of its middle-class inhabitants. The shops and houses here may have the same old careful architecture, and the streets may be clear of trash and vagrants, but nobody swims in the greasy river water.

Rolling to a stop before the warehouse -- a tall, grey-shingled building on the corner -- the driver gladly accepts his pay as you disembark. "Shall I wait, masters, or will you be long in Dawnside?" he asks down from the seat. "No need for you to wait," is Donovan's reply as he approaches the storefront. "Besides, we may need a bigger cart."

Mr. Ilien turns out to be a short, balding man with dark skin and a hawk nose. Gruff and businesslike, when he hears you are there for "Prest's order" he immediately summons his nephew to mind the desk and leads you to the back. The provisioner's shop consists of a small front office and display room, where hunting rifles and metal canteens rest well polished on wall mounts; the majority of space is given over to the stockroom and warehouse, a cavernous barn full of wooden crates and a set of double doors large enough to accommodate a cart from the side street. "I had almost given up hope of anyone coming to collect these," the man grumbles. "And I had to order some of them personally -- I don't usually carry dynamite, you understand. But your professor payed up front and in full, so I was content to let them sit." He hauls two heavy trunks down to the floor and unlocks them for you." As promised: everything necessary for your expedition." Now eyeing the lot of you, and the rifles in the trunk, Ilien appears a tad worried. "What sort of expedition is this, anyway?"

Spoiler: The Trunks' Contents

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• 3 repeating rifles with 24 bullets each. Range 90’, 2d6 Damage, AP 2, 6 Bullets, 2 Hands, Reload 1, Heavy Item.
• 1 shotgun with 16 shells. Range 40’, 1d4+4 Damage, AP 0, 2 Shells, 2 Hands, Reload 1, Heavy Item.
• 6 revolvers with 24 bullets each. Range 30’, 2d4 Damage, AP 2, 6 Bullets, 1 Hand, Reload 1 round, Heavy Item.
• 6 broad hunting knives. Medium Reach, 1d6+Str Damage, AP 0, Melee, 1 Hand, Light Item. Can be thrown at Range 10 ft. or attached to a repeater (making it long reach and 2 hands).
• 6 gun belts, with pistol holsters, knife sheaths, and pouches for bullets and shells.
• 1 plated coat, a long leather garment with steel plates sewn into it. Armor, +0 AC, DR 2, Heavy Item.
• 1 suit of sergeant's armor, a flexible steel carapace protecting the torso, neck, and groin. Armor, +3 AC, DR 1, Heavy Item.
• 2 metal helmets, the kind a soldier would wear. Armor, +2 AC, DR 0, Light Item.
• 1 pickax, 2 shovels, and several metal buckets. Each is a heavy item.
• 1 coiled rope ladder. Heavy Item.
• a small wooden box with a lock and key; inside are five sticks of dynamite. Range 20’, target and all in 5 ft 3d6 dmg (Dex 12 half), thrown, 1 Hand, Light Item. Requires 1 round to “load” (lighting the fuse) before it can be thrown; there is chance if you are hit with a fire attack (25%) that the stick lights and explodes immediately in your hand (no save). Sticks can be bound together so they explode at the same time; each additional stick increases the damage by 1d6 (max 10d6 dmg) and the radius by 5 ft (max 20 ft). They can also be rigged with a longer fuse to explode at the end of the round after a set amount of time, usually 1-6 rounds later.
• 1 firebomb, a heavy stoppered glass holding a potion the color of a tangerine. Range 20’, target lit on fire (ignores armor DR), thrown, 1 Hand, Heavy Item. Requires 1 round to “load” (lighting the bomb) before it can be thrown; there is chance if you fall (15%) or are hit in melee (5%) that the bottle shatters and coats you in flammable liquid.
• 1 acid flask, a heavy stoppered glass holding a potion the color of a tangerine. Range 10’, 1d6 Damage (ignores armor DR), thrown, 1 Hand, Heavy Item. There is chance if you fall (15%) or are hit in melee (5%) that the bottle shatters and you are damaged.
• 1 magnifying glass and several sets of pens, pencils, and pocket notebooks.
• a small tin containing 6 vials of antitoxin. If you drink antitoxin, you get a +5 bonus on poison saves for 1 hour. Very Light Item.
• 2 arc-torches, like short metal taser-batons. These autowound electrical devices clearly illuminate a 20’ radius and provides shadowy illumination out 20’ beyond that. It lasts for four hours and produces a loud buzzing while activated; touching the metal prongs delivers a sharp shock (1 dmg). Heavy Item.
• an oilskin wrap containing two smokesticks, alchemically treated wooden rods that instantly create thick, opaque smoke when ignited. Range 20’, smoke cloud, thrown, 1 Hand, Light Item. Requires 1 round to “load” (lighting the stick) before it can be thrown. The smoke fills a 10-foot cube that completely obscures vision. The stick is consumed after 1 round, and the smoke dissipates naturally (a moderate or stronger wind dissipates the smoke in 1 round).
• a padded paper box containing 1 sunrod, a foot-long, gold-tipped, iron rod that glows brightly when struck. It clearly illuminates a 30’ radius and provides shadowy illumination 30’ beyond that. It glows for 6 hours, after which the gold tip is burned out and worthless. Light Item.
• a sturdy leather backpack containing a bag of ball bearings, a spool of string, a tiny brass bell, five beeswax candles, a paper-wrapped stick of artist's charcoal, ten climbing pitons, two flasks of oil, a book of quick-strike tindersticks, several cloth drawstring bags of various sizes, and a canteen. Strapped to the side of the pack is a huge coil of hemp rope, a hooded landern, a crowbar, and a hammer. Very Heavy Item (with all the gear inside).

[Grek]

"Was Prest planning to fight a small war? Perhaps overthrow a foreign country? What in the world..." Lydia shakes her head in bemusement. "It is supposed to be an archeological expedition. But I suspect that the Professor had other ideas, looking at all of this. Still, I suppose we'd better take custody of it all the same. Shall someone send for the carriage?"

[Magni's Hammer]

The Metaphysics Building

The summer night is warm and dry. Buzzing insects drift off the river to suck the blood of sleeping drunks and cart-horses. One such carriage-puller trots carefully down the Street of Students, a broad avenue connecting the main campus of Ravenwell to its outer satellites, such as the Institute for Metaphysical Inquiry, which squats in the shadows of larger buildings. A hushed gaggle of drunken young men passes up the street, cautious of the squad of mounted gendarmes on the other side of the road. Jack drives the carriage between the two parties, rigid with fright; but they both pass on without incident, and he steers Nellie into the darkness of the alley beside the institute.

Immediately the doors spring open. Quiet and swift as a panther, Donovan is two steps to the wall and leaps for a low-hanging dripstone, catching it and scaling the gargoyle to vanish onto the level below the second-floor windows. Simultaneously, Rhuk and Volk barrel out from the other side of the carriage, unhooking the shrouded trunk from the back of the vehicle, and heft their load to the side entrance, which soon enough Donovan unlocks. Behind them come Lydia and Ridley, who with a whispered nod to Jack, sends the carriage back into the night and quietly closes the door behind them.

The two burly men haul the trunk into the central floor of the building, all the while scanning the galleries for any sign of movement. But there is nothing and no-one here except the party. Lydia ignites one of the arc-torches, and unrolls the building plans to the soft electrical buzz of the tool. As the rest arm themselves with Prest's equipment, Ridley draws a long, deep pull from his pungent stub of a cigar, and opens his wizard's eye.

'Metaphysics,' as a discipline, is very old and odd, a cobble of philosophy with physics, maths, and mesmerism; it largely dealt with the study of interactions between the spirit world and our own, and attempts to understand just what spirits are exactly. It's extremely airy and esoteric, with few students and very old faculty. Almost more mysticism than science, it's just not very popular in today's industrial, materialistic version of academia. Ridley has been inside the metaphysics 'laboratory' a few times, and Lydia far more often: it was renovated years ago and is a very nice, if empty, place. Tall pillars, narrow lancet windows, and presiding over it all the statue of Ellias Cordaine, deceased dean of metaphysics, bearing an imperious, yet serene look and a brass incense wand in his outstretched hand. The dead man's eyes look down with judgement on the intruders, his wand extended as if to banish them. Behind him, the stairwell marked on Prest's map.

As Volk and Lydia descend carefully, Donovan draws Rhuk aside to the upper gallery, where he had gained entry via a window to a small office. Wordlessly, he shows the Khoj tracker the shattered latch, and the office door forced open by levering; someone else had broken in first. Guns drawn, they prowl back to the rest of the party.

The other two have reach the basement stairs, where Prest's map had cryptically indicated "it's here." Well, just what "it" is does not appear obvious -- they stand on a raised concrete landing, looking into the hall of adjunct offices, storerooms, and the large, modern boiler.

Upstairs, on the main hall, Ridley snaps back to the waking world as Rhuk taps his shoulder and whispers the warning to his friend. "We may not be alone in here. Donovan has found signs of a forced entry on the upper level. Have you seen anything?"

"Not as such, Rhuk," the mesmerist replies. He frowns, dashes the stub of his cigar, and draws his revolver. "There's too much magnetic activity in this place. Built into the foundations, all crossed with copper, silver, iron, and lead if I remember the professor's notes. There's much construction on the basement levels."

"It fell in, several decades ago," Lydia shares, having returned with Volk to the main chamber. "Deep sewer construction had weakened the foundation, and once the University won enough donations for repair work they rebuilt the whole structure. That was in 1813, according to these plans Thomas left us, but-" she glances at the papers under the torchlight, "-yes, here he wrote 'but Mrs. Cordaine said it was added in '14!', so I suppose there is some discrepancy about that." She regards the statue of Mr. Cordaine with her tired eyes. "Volk and I saw nothing at the base of the stairs, but I'm sure that means little. Everything we've seen today has led us here; we just need to find what Prest wanted us to see."

[Boethius Junior]

"Curious, very curious," mutters the aged mesmer, tramping around the basement in bewilderment. After a moment, he taps a foot against the finished concrete floor. "I do wonder why the new work was so reinforced; almost specifically to ward against aetheric intrusions. Perhaps there is another level below?" Still humming his thoughts aloud, the professor descends the stair himself, seeking any grate, drain, or hatch that may allow further access to the deep.

[JeenLeen]

After seeing the forced entry and letting his allies in, Donovan sets Cloak Rat just inside the building, before closing and locking the doors back. He then has the other two guard the stairs leading down to where the group treads. All have orders to call out if attacked or see anybody else.

---

Donovan feels a bit frustrated looking over the area. Seems like a riddle, and while he enjoys investigating the biological riddles and other attributes radstone gives insight to, this is not his area.

With a motion to Lydia, he notes, half-seriously, "Well... we could weaken some of the new construction and see if that leads to any clues, or an entryway. We already know the Chancellor is guilty, so I'm not too worried about him getting mad at us setting off some dynamite."

But, for the meantime, he goes around the area sniffing, trying to scent out any hint at radstone that could be a clue, or anything his attuned-senses may sense as out-of-place.

Spoiler

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Not exactly sure of what roll to make.
Wisdom mod is -1. Radstone mod is +3. So +2 total for a Perception check?
(1d20)[4]

Also, OOC, I wonder if that statue or its wand are part of it, though that seems kinda cliche and Prest did point us to the basement, not the floor the statue is on.)

[Grek]

"It is the Metaphysics building, Dr. Ridley. A certain metaphysical sturdiness is doubtlessly necessary. Wouldn't want the lamps to become possessed, or the bannisters to get pulled free by a fiesty bit of etheric fauna. Of course, that means the building itself is rather heavy. Full of metal and stone and all manner of things that I wouldn't want to come crashing down on us. Let's give it a good half hour with a gentle touch before we break out the explosives."

She continues to contemplate the statue. Surely, it couldn't be as simple as a secret latch? But it would be foolish not to try. She applies pressure to Mr. Cordaine's wand, attempting to shift it as if it were a lever.

[Boethius Junior]

"You are correct of course, Mrs. Cassus, yet the occasional poltergeist would give these stuffy traditionalists something to do. Earn their keep and what!" He pauses to consider Donovan's proposal. "Might be best to avoid such an explosive excavation young master, unless we want the gendarme breathing down our necks - Chancellor be damned! ...Have we any hammers?"

[Magni's Hammer]

The wand is not a lever, sadly. On the floor below, Donovan and Ridley puzzle over the landing. It's a thick concrete step, several inches above the basement level and incongruous with the rest of the floor, like a slab poured on top. You do have a pickax and several shovels, in addition to the dynamite. Donovan does not detect any radstone, by the way.

[Grek]

"Have you found something down there? I'll go fetch a pickaxe and be right down."

Lydia returns promptly, the required equipment in hand. "Perhaps they've covered up one set of stairs with another?"

[Boethius Junior]

"That would be rather silly, would it not? I suppose when one has need to obscure their unscrupulous activities, desperate measures may be taken." Ridley hefts the procured ax, testing its weight in his hands. "Shall we then?" he huffs, taking an experimental swing.

Spoiler: Strength test

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(1d20)[20]

I figure this will be necessary! As Ridley is not of any particularly great vigor, it may be for the best to have some of the more staunch characters take over.

[Magni's Hammer]

Well, you say that, but a couple swings of the pickax shatters the concrete. Perhaps Ridley has prior experience breaking things?

At any rate, with a few minutes of careful chopping, lifting, and prying, the concrete slab is broken up and dragged away. Beneath this is the true floor, a now-shredded tarp lain between it and the poured concrete, properly level with the rest of the basement floor. The spiral staircase now descends to an inlaid landing with an obvious hatch, which if removed would allow one to descend further. But how to open it? The hatch is perfectly flush with the floor, with neither handles nor hinges -- if you weren't looking for a trapdoor, one might mistake it for an overlarge tile. Careful tapping reveals the inlaid glyphs scattered across the landing will rotate when pressure is applied; walking across wouldn't move them, but deliberate application of a crowbar or screwdriver could turn them in place. There are thirteen glyphs, scattered in no discernible pattern, each a numerological symbol; the orientation almost certainly has some kind of metaphysic significance.

[JeenLeen]

Donovan lets out a low whistle of anxiety.

"Eh... metaphysics aren't really my strong point. I mean, I took a couple classes, but my focus was mostly on anatomy and radstone. Hieronymous, Lydia, do either of you have experience with this stuff from your studies?

I remember a few mathematical patterns. Golden Rule, or Mean... whatever it is when numbers circle around, sorta? Fibonnaci. Urgh."

That said, he does look over the systems and try to divine some purpose, or remember some clue from his lessons.

Spoiler: roll

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Int check to remember a clue from his mandatory metaphysics class
(1d20)[2]

EDIT: guess he slept through that part

[Magni's Hammer]

Picture something like this:



The above is not the exact pattern on the floor, but similar to it. The whole landing is a piece of expensive stone (like marble), or maybe several cuts of stone lain so they fit snugly together. It is crossed by thin lines of metal, which may just be set into grooves in the surface or might go all the way through, there's no way to tell; the metal and stone are flush, so the whole landing is smooth. They do form a kind of spiral or pile of circles.

The "trapdoor" is like the central black circle. The metal spiral staircase descends directly to it, such that if the door was removed you could either step off the stairs onto the basement landing or keep descending into the hole (assuming the staircase continues on the other side of the trapdoor and it isn't just a straight drop).

The thirteen glyphs are like the various smaller circles scattered throughout the image above. Again, they don't correspond directly (the above image I found probably has more than thirteen little circled-symbols), but they should give you an idea of what your characters see. They aren't readable to those outside the discipline, and they don't correspond directly to any kind of real-world clock. They probably mean something to metaphysicians -- maybe they correspond to the heavenly spheres, and the number value associated with each? Perhaps they are a clock for dream-time. At any rate, they don't mean anything to you, nor should you expect them to.

The larger metal rings do not rotate; only the symbols within their small circles. It's as if the floor is set with multiple padlocks. It isn't easy to turn them, since there's barely anything to grab. Maybe they are rusty from however long they've been buried under the concrete? Maybe the mechanism had a power source that has now run out? Maybe something else.

The metaphysics building has plenty of symbol-piles like this one scattered around. You can even see them here and there across the basement. Some are just drawn on paper and put up on the doors, such as the big one plastered under the sign that says 'boiler-room'; others are inlaid in the floors, columns, and walls. Some are repeats, others are unique. The number and types of symbols vary, but none here in the basement match the one you've uncovered.

[Boethius Junior]

Ridley wipes the sweat from his brow, already beginning to furrow with frustration. "Can't say I understand this frippery either, lad. Mesmeric spiritualism may be, ah, tangentially related to metaphysics - but I was never much of a scholar myself." He offers his friends an optimistic wink. "Don't go fink to the other professors, though!"

Still, the puzzle has the doctor at least momentarily stumped. Allowing a chance for reflection, Ridley draws open his third eye. Perhaps there might be some clue hidden from the layman's eye?

[Grek]

"I detect no signs of tarnish or corrosion in the joints. Logically, the rings should be able to turn just as soon as we can provide the necessary force to move them. I believe that I shall go inspect the boiler, the in hopes that device may be steam powered." Hopefully, it would be as simple as restocking the boiler and any need for explosives could be avoided.

[Magni's Hammer]

The door to the boiler opens inward. With a heave, Lydia pushes into the room and switches on the gas light, revealing the enormous boiler and a mess of valves, piping, and old labels. The professor scans the room for any kind of conspicuous knob or dial, and her eyes quickly settle on a small, dusty pump handle without a label, and seemingly connected to nothing. After a second's hesitation to think of any risk, Lydia raises the switch. With a dull roar the boiler shudders and steam is pumped down a new channel. Across the basement, something clanks beneath the landing. Within the recesses of the boiler room, a weak groan calls out an the noise. Beneath a dirty tarp hastily thrown lie three unconscious bodies, one stirring painfully as the steam-boiler clanks and piping shakes.

Instantly recognizable is Professor Marchios, bald, brawny, and very much bound and unconscious, with an enormous bloody welt on the back of his head. Beside him are two other men, similarly subdued, one with a burnt shirt and blasted raw skin. Clubs, lanterns, and a pistol have been tossed beside them, none bearing signs of use in a struggle. All three are alive, but probably need hospital attention. Their breaths are quiet, sparse, and ragged, especially the one that looks like he was burnt or electrocuted. Behind the heavy insulated boiler door there's no way anyone could have heard them.

As she sees this, Ridley's third eye is focusing on a manifesting figure upon the landing between himself and Donovan. Though the student's senses tell him nothing, he can nevertheless intuit something has changed in the space, besides the steam now pumping beneath his feet. To the mesmer, however, a ghostly apparition has formed out of the ether; an old man, with a severe and concentrated frown, gesturing with a metal rod at the sigils inlaid about him. He then regards Ridley with a sudden incredulity, as if he had only just noticed him, and so freezing in the same pose as the statue on the foyer above, he fades again into nothingness.

[Boethius Junior]

"A phantasm? It seems even yon spirits desire our entry." Ridley states flatly, shaking away the otherworldly sights. He calls down the hall to Lydia, "It would appear rousing the boiler did the trick Mrs. Cassus! Now, to solve the lock." Taking especial care, the aged doctor claims the ghostly figure's position and mimes his actions, tracing the pattern of sigils with point of cane. Aloud, he explains this process: "I have witnessed an aspect of the late Professor Cordaine, who marked before his dissipation this exact pattern."

Once satisfied that he has the procedure down, Ridley gets to work moving the tiles in their (supposedly) proper order.

[JeenLeen]

Donovan visibly shudders. Ghosts were not something he was accustomed to, even having experienced a couple in the very large city.

"Wow... um, Cordaine, you say? Uh, excuse me a moment. Gonna check on my pets. I'll fire off a shot if I run into trouble."

Going on a hunch, but not wanting to seem foolish to his older compatriots, he goes back upstairs to the statue and tries to fiddle with the wand that Lydia beforehand had. Maybe the boiler is linked to some mechanism there as well? Also, as stated, he makes sure his pets are still on guard and uninjured, as that noise could have covered up an enemy's movements. He has his pistol out to send a warning shot should he need to rally his allies to help fight intruders.

If all's well, he returns to the group as soon as he can.

[Grek]

Lydia drags the wounded out of the boiler, room, naturally. That's no place for a burn victim, be they a probable criminal or otherwise. "Gentlemen, I do believe that I've found Monk's co-conspirators. Which raises the fascinating question as to who's knocked them out like this, if it wasn't us and it wasn't Monk. I believe weapons at the ready may be appropriate. As might be some rope and bandages for these three."

After securing the suspected conspirators, Lydia elects not to take a revolver, despite encouraging the others to take up arms. She already has a far superior weapon in her prototype.

[Magni's Hammer]

With the boiler reconnected to the landing, the locks slide easily under Ridley's cane. A regulated "tick, tick, hiss" issues beneath him as the sigils glide into their proper orientation. Then, with an ominous pneumatic sibilance, the central disc descends into blackness, folding away to reveal an inner stair dropping into lightless depths. Grave silence issues up, carrying with it the damp, moldering scent of cold fertilizer and wet, fresh-tilled earth. The passage is opened.

On the floor above, Donovan collects his creatures -- all are accounted for, unfazed. As he fiddles with the statues wand, it frustratingly refuses to budge. The wand is no lever, but rather gestures to the symbols about the atrium floor. Now that you have seen the landing, they actually look rather similar. But there is no time to dwell on it; finding nothing, he returns to the basement.

The prisoners are already tied, so Lydia needn't waste extra rope on them. The rest of the group hears your warning to arm themselves. You can apply bandages, but it's a gamble whether the burned man will make it without taking him to a hospital, unless Donovan was to use some of his precious scarbalm on this nameless invalid.

[Boethius Junior]

"I suspect we shall find these cellars thoroughly occupied, my dear friends - and by whatever struck these vagabonds low. On my honor though, I will not leave them in so decrepit a state. I have not bandages, Mrs. Cassus, but I may provide an alternative that works just the same." With a grunt of effort, the aged doctor stoops to eye level with the most injured abettor, gently rousing him to wake. As the man's conscious mind slowly returns, Ridley seizes upon the opportunity and throws wide his third-eye, flooding the hurt soul with rays of magnetic mental electricity - to clutch his nerves and dull his synapses into a sympathetic stupor.

His task complete the doctor returns to the beckoning portal. Claiming an arc-torch from amongst their supply he begins the descent, revolver drawn and readied.

Spoiler: Mesmerism

Show

Tracking ME, Ridley is left with I believe eight remaining, having now spent one to activate Suppress Pain in the subject for one hour. I also figured it was safe to assume that we have access to the arc-torches? If not that, then Ridley will attempt to claim some form of illumination from the nearest fixture.

[Magni's Hammer]

The air is moist and heavy here in the narrow under-stair, and the electric buzz of the arc-torch reverberates farther than it casts light. The metal staircase drops into a wide, dark cavern; all the light only shows steel steps suspended in darkness. Ridley can feel the damp chill of water all about him, for the "cave" appears to be an abandoned sewer-rail tunnel -- at least, it's wide enough to be one. Dimly, he can see the struts and brick columns put in to support the ceiling above. Soon enough he reaches the bottom, where an iron walkway traverses the damp muck of the tunnel floor. Crossing it cautiously to the edge of the chamber, where he can see a sunken loading platform and train-tracks leading off into the dark, there is a tall, circular door built into the wall. It has a single great gear in its center, like a ship's wheel, connected to pneumatic pipes that bar either side. On the wall beside it there is an unlabeled switch flipped down. Above the wheel the door is written:

Ravenwell University
Venture Artifice
Laboratory 01