Dark corners. Acid dripping overhangs. Grime drenched stained glass windows, faintly showing scenes of people around a grand circle. When it rained everything became blue, even the acid pouring out of the clouds taking on a deep turquoise. The patter of rain sounded normal enough, even if the downpour was of some sort of extra strong elemental acid that even the monsters in the tower had to avoid... though he did see in one courtyard heavily dressed lizards collecting it in containers then transferring it to enchanted balloons that hardened into the ammo packs and grenades they carried.
"It might work on them after all..." he mused quietly, watching from atop a stone gargoyle vomiting a stream of corrosion into the dull colored mist below. He was not generally a fan of rubbery skin-suits, but he also didn't want to get melted alive if he failed to perfectly navigate 'off the beaten path'. Currently he was working his way across what he might call a baroque style ribcage. It was actually some horrifically shaped blinds on a porch, ruined couches and fabric suggesting some queen might have used it to view a garden across the way.
He did stop and look back, and could see there likely had been a plaza on the building across the way before a stream had worn away layers, like some sort of canyon hollowing out the rooms into flooded cubes.
Resuming his climb, he carefully watched for smaller holes and places Gargoyles were connected. Every so often, some sort of system would change where water above was being diverted, and he did not want to see how well his armor took a direct blast: it was already steaming in places he had stuck out a little too far, and he had to pause to mend in more material.
He kept moving, finding a spinal route under a balcony that covered him from rain before he found another marble section under what sounded like an aqueduct above, but more likely was a stairway that had been inundated with acid. With his feet planted on the marble under the stairway, he crept along to where a leak had sprung, and used mend without pushing his hand against the crack. The acid stopped for a moment and he kept going. This repeated a few times, and was capped off by finding a crack where one of the fliers on the floor was nesting. It seemed to be coiling to attack before Corvayne gave it a look and held up one of the 'water balloons' from the guard, which caused the creature to slink back into it's acid-stained hole.
Corvayne moved around the building, taking him to a vantage point where he could barely make out the bridge where LBC, Little Spur, and Bayou were, as well of course Lepin and the rabbit. The top of the screw was some sort of bulbous chamber, made of marble and what looked like melted fingers cupping the room, framed in metal. Corvayne was pretty sure there was a tiny chest in one corner of the metal struts outside of the room, but even if he was on the beam under it he didn't dare collect. That he had not been burnt by the rain was a miracle: Here and there weaker pieces of the tower were sagging.
He decided not to cross the bridge. It looked like the underside was infested by the explosive silvery mines, and he wasn't in the mood to try attacking such a small check point solo. Instead he looked up to the top of the tower he was on, still what looked like a mile above him. He would have to venture inside, as the wind was changing. Corvayne slipped into a balcony draped in acidic flowers, two skeletons fossilized in stone-like growth giving Corvayne incentive to avoid puddles where the pink flowers were dripping.
The interior brought the pattering of rain down to a distant hum, and for a moment he was homesick for Cascadia. He stopped while his eyes adjusted to the dark. The halls here were the same green marble interlaced with white, nearly untouched by the ebb and flow of acid. Corvayne didn't relax, as it meant he likely was sharing the dimly lit space with monsters. The brown crud everywhere didn't help the few working crystal lamps ahead banish the dark corners... which was fine. Corvayne stuck to them, shadow hands helping him fit into nooks he shouldn't. The first pack of guards was just... standing in a row. They seemed to be asleep, placid emotions basically sending nothing through the link. Corvayne just avoided them: the weird tall ceilings and rooms that opened into each-other in odd ways, including walls made of metal ribs he could squeeze through, gave him freedom to move through the gloom.
As with many of the other towers, there was always a window out into a courtyard that should not have fit into the tower itself. Space was odd here. Moving over to it, rain coming down the center was falling into a whirlpool. Most of it was concentrated in the center of the square courtyard, with a hodge-podge of additions jutting out from the walls like tumors clogging a faint view of clouds above. A gutter above broke and he saw a new line of water dropping into the hall directly across from where Corvayne had contorted to match the tortured figures that filled spaces between the arch. A moment later, a lizard guard stepped into the line of water, and then there was a shrill scream that sounded like an air raid siren, the lizard flailing then going still as half it's body melted.
Corvayne kept still, not just to avoid being noticed by three other lizards who came to investigate: the rain horribly strong, and he hadn't realized he was just relying on rubber to keep it out.
No wonder they kept squirt guns of the stuff. Corvayne waited for the others to leave then crawled along the ceiling in shadows to observe where water had melted the guard, mostly to gather more grenades. He noticed something odd: The body hadn't melted in a normal fashion, with sizzling smoke and bones remaining. Instead, it looked like an oil painter had taken a brush to a wet canvas and mixed the puddle with the guard.
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Corvayne heard heavy footsteps and moved back outside, curling into a dry part of the brickwork with other huddled figures impaled on lightning bolts. He heard some grunting, and something that radiated danger was there, barking an order then walking away. He could feel more complex thoughts that were no less aggressive and hostile, but he had come to recognize his danger sense was worth considering.
He moved into a spot unlikely to be seen, in metalwork arches supporting a balcony, and invoked his compass power, this time seeing if it could be used to find a 'rare' treasure chest. It moved slowly for a little bit, then pointed to a large pipe with extreme corrosion on the bottom, pouring rainwater into the center of the culvert.
He almost laughed. It was like asking him to stick his hand into lava. He moved down the wall, and the compass changed direction to keep pointing at the pipe.
He actually muttered a little to himself, then positioned himself above the metal circle, marble and rib like metals of the room above just above his head. He started looking at the pipe. He might be able to get into it, but if there was a surge of water he'd no doubt get splashed and likely end up as a mashed up puddle. Standing on the pipe, he got a sense it was made of lead or some magical material that still had signs of damage from the rain, bits of it hanging off the bottom like icicles. There was enough room that he could belly crawl along the ceiling of the pipe.
It was a stupid idea, but they also needed gear, however they could get it. They needed to know places in these towers they could run to that monsters were not able to get to or didn't know about.
He psyched himself up then used Gravity to reduce his weight to nearly weightless. Hugging the pipe to avoid floating off, he decided to go feet first. Head wet, dead. The flow had been consistent for a couple minutes. His shadow limbs touched the water, then gave him a thumbs up to say they didn't dissolve in it. Good news.
He curled into a ball then bonded his gravity, helping him slide along the top of the pipe. His shadow hands exploded into the space behind him, letting him feel what the shape of it was. He could feel the liquid was dissolving the bottom of the pipe and at some point would leak into the rooms below, and that there was a dry pipe coming up. He kept his breathing steady when something that looked like a branch with leaves on it floated by. He felt a bit of cold on his knee, suggesting that part of his suit had been splashed. He channeled mend, closing the hole and did his best to keep sliding along the top of the pipe as the light of the end of the pipe got smaller. It was better then looking down and seeing the dim gleam of water inches from his face.
Finally, he started to fall up the pipe, which was blessedly dry. He took it slow, as he was still using Gravity to slide. He considered using [Flows-Like-Water] to switch directions, but he wasn't sure if using it in a closed space might cause him to flow right into the acid he was climbing away from. So he let his shadow hands both feel for and help drag him up. It felt like both of them had gotten a good workout so far on these excursions.
After what felt like an hour but was more likely five minutes, Corvayne felt air with his shadow limbs and pulled himself into what looked like a forgotten janitors closet, shadow hands taking a grate off and replacing it. He crept to the door and listened. No noise but hints of rain on glass. Opening it as quietly as possible, he stepped into what looked like a hall of Bell's palace. The usually ruined décor was intact, marble floors draped with carpets, statues on dark wood tables, trophies and paintings on the wall depicting a woman in clouds holding thunder, probably a goddess, all lit by glass windows lit the carpet from a sky that looked... mundane. He took three steps then stopped himself and looked out the window again.
There was ground outside, though there were holes that showed the floor as they had seen in the exterior. It was raining outside down into those rips in reality.
He proceeded down the hall, using [[Unity]] to try to check for living things. He opened a few doors that lead to bedrooms, richly appointed but not where his compass was urging him. He took a few minutes to check them anyway, finding some nice clothes if he ever wanted to go ball dancing or if one of his girlfriends wanted to wear lacy underwear that may have been sitting in a drawer for thousand of years. He did find some potions in a bathroom drawer and took them. Why not?
The hallway lead to a stair up and down, and a pair of double doors. There was an odd glow from upstairs, and while the compass told him to go into the double doors, he carefully made his way up the stairs, spear ready as he crept in the shadows. He peeked his head above the lip and saw another hall with what looked like a tear into space.
A rip from the ceiling stopping mid-air, edges lined with static and the bulk of the tear glowing from gray energy forming nets. A containment field. Beyond it he could see tiny figures, perhaps distant, checking the gray net.
He looked down and saw that the rubber gear he was wearing was melting.
“Shit!”
He backed away from the gap, his armor glowing then fading as he dropped back from the stairs. Oddly enough, his face was fine. He doubled checked, just to make sure he wasn't missing his skin.
Moving back down the stairs, he cracked the double doors. If the stairs was a rip, what he saw beyond was chaos. There was an expanse of the dungeon, tower-world, whatever, sticking out, carpet becoming bare floor becoming a sort of white concrete that fettered away into little bits. Beyond was a kaleidoscope of colored strings, tangled and woven together in a vast web. There was a chest literally made of sapphire sitting at the edge of reality, just past where the upper floor gave way to a void. There was static at the edges of the dungeon where it went into nothing. Corvayne stepped out, aware that something in this space was wrong.
He glanced to the side and saw what looked like a sheer cliff face, millions and millions of rooms and halls all fading to white, like a billion roads all being built then the money ran out, leaving bridges to nowhere. The other direction the strings had faded into a sort of dark blue, the same way boring carpet in an office might be every color but none when viewed from afar.
He shrugged and stepped forward to let his shadow hands open the chest, ready to snap back to the door with Gravity. Thankfully, nothing was set off. He reached in and picked up the first item, a pinkish orb.
There was a sharp snap and everything went black.