Running his faltering flashlight beam along the walls of the cave,
Laurent searches for signs of another entrance, but the rock and packed earth seems solid, although, now he looks more closely, there are some dark green and red patches that he thinks might be algae or maybe fungi. The only way in or out now is the long, narrow fissure leading back out to Anse Douce.
Now he has his breathing back under control, and the dusty clouds of bat guano and...whatever else have cleared, he is able to take a more measured look at the bodies that litter the floor of the cave. In amongst the dust-coated bones he can see small fragments of material. Pulling one out from among the detritus he blows the stinking guano off to reveal a soiled and weathered piece of cloth, browny-green in colour, frayed all around the edges. It has traces of an unpleasant, silvery residue on it, not unlike the trail
Laurent saw in the passage. He thinks it is probably a preserved piece of cotton fabric, presumably all that remains from whatever this individual was wearing when they died, whenever they died.
Where he has disturbed the remains by pulling out the cloth,
Laurent can see something quite angular sticking out of the dust. He pulls it out and cleans it off. It's a coin, obviously originally silver but now tarnished with a yellow-brown patina. On one side there is a flying eagle and it says
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA...QUARTER DOLLAR, and on the other side there is a bare-breasted figure with a shield and olive branch, with the writing
LIBERTY...IN GOD WE TRUST and finished with a date at the bottom which has significantly worn away, but which
Laurent thinks might say
1917.
Turning to look back out into the weak light coming through the tunnel he sees an alcove to the side. Flicking his flashlight over it reveals what looks like a squat statue on a pedestal, before the beam finally gives up and flickers out. Before the light fails, the air turns heavy and oppressive.
Laurent gets the unsettling sense that something is watching him, studying him. There's the faintest of sounds, trickling water, that almost seems to carry a voice that is just beyond his hearing. He moves towards the narrow alcove trying to get a better look at the figure in the near darkness. A sense of dread slowly building in the pit of his stomach as he gets closer.
Laurent whacks the flashlight with the palm of his hand a few times and eventually the beam returns, weaker and even more unsteady than before. The rock wall catches the light, strange, almost glowing lichen returning a green phosphorescence where it is illuminated, and reflecting the wet, shimmering look of silvery residue. A slow but constant stream of water runs down the wall and pools under a pedestal of dull gold. And on this sits a small statuette, squat and unpleasant to look at. The pedestal shines softly in the light, golden but with an unusual sheen, cool to the touch and slightly damp, the surface is engraved with intricate and alien patterns that suggest exquisite craftsmanship but which
Laurent struggles to resolve in the poor light. Although he gets the feeling that the patterns themselves and writhing and twisting out of his sight. He finds himself reluctant to even look directly at the statue. It is made from some kind of stone, that much he can allow himself to see. A sort of greenish soapstone, but with a smooth surface akin to polished obsidian. It isn't exactly luminescent but
Laurent can't help but feel like it casts some kind of glow around it. Looking closer at the shining stone surface there is an array of swirling colours deeper within, a mesmerising kaleidoscope of iridescent blues, greens, and purples dancing beneath the surface. Yet when he blinks his eyes he just sees the smooth greenish surface again. Reaching forward, reluctantly yet fascinated, he touches the surface of the figure. It is smooth and cool but running his hand over the surface there's something...indescribable about the sensation. Like it is lightly pulsating, like it is alive somehow. Grasping the figure firmly
Laurent finds it is easy to move, deceptively light even, he finds it hard to reconcile the weight with the obvious size and material. But when he tries to lift it there is a certain...resistance, almost like a buoyancy in water. An inherent tendency, inherent desire to return to its resting place. And he returns it.
Finally
Laurent forces himself to look at the statue. It's squat batrachian form grips the edge of the golden pedestal with webbed fingers and toes. The amphibian body is coiled and muscular, exuding an alien, otherworldly confidence. A sense of power and grace. He finds it hard to fully describe the shape of the figure, even to himself, but those round, unblinking eyes fix him with an unsettling intelligence and he has to tear his gaze away. Those eyes. They remind him of something. The towers and spires of coral beneath the calm waters of the bay. That feeling of unease, the prickle at the back of his neck, the shivers down the spine. The sure certainty that something is just wrong. Those fish. But not fish. The ugly, frightening, round unblinking eyes...
With
Laurent's next breath he feels stinging, salty water gush through his mouth and into his lungs. Freezing cold, filling him up. He doubles over and starts choking...
OOC: Another Insight roll I think |