Young Writers Society

Raptor had spent the past five minutes contemplating both how he had gotten here and the stupidity of the people he was stuck here with. He couldn't believe that some of them actually wanted to drink the wine - and that others wanted to open more chests.

He had drifted a little closer to the rest of the group since this had all started; now he was close enough for the smell of the wine to hit him. He scrunched up his face in disgust underneath his helmet - or at least tried his best to. He hated the smell of alcohol.

He reached into his bag, digging around for something he knew he hadn't removed from it the night before. He didn't have the right kind of supplies to summon Bartimaeus. But he did have the chalk he used to draw the pentacles.

After a moment of digging, he found what he was looking for.

He pulled the packet of chalk out and selected one of the longer pieces. It looked absurdly small in his hands right now. He tried not to think about that as he put the rest of it back.

"Before you get too drunk," Raptor said, British accent heavy as he crossed his arms, "we should introduce ourselves. And if you don't want to run the risk of becoming cursed - which is bound to happen if anyone is stupid enough to open another chest - I have chalk that we can mark up the tunnels with. It makes more sense to head out than to stay here. And if you want to know my name, it's Raptor."

Using chalk to mark where they'd been sounded like a good idea. Nikolai nodded in agreement, looking around the group. "My name's Nikolai," he said in a friendly but timid tone. His Russian accent was still quite easy to notice. He fidgeted a tiny bit, a little uneasy at speaking up. His hand fell to his side, and his fingers brushed against something, causing him to realize he had a small leather pouch on his left hip. "But I think you can all call me Kolya."

Aumrauth held the bottle upside-down, watching as a tiny drop of wine fell out of it onto the floor. "Shame," he said to himself, and grabbed another bottle. He tried to leverage the cork against the chest again, but it seemed to be stuck. He didn't want to break the glass and make a mess, and he didn't want to waste good wine, so he started the wrestle with the cork.

"Aumrauth Themaris," he introduced.

Opening the bottle was still a wrestle. It didn't help that everything hurt, constantly. He tugged on the cork with his teeth and spit it out.

"You'd do good to remember the name."

"I'm not going to remember that," Eira admitted with a chuckle, shrugging one shoulder. She reached into the chest for another bottle. Aumrauth had just opened one, but she saw little reason it wouldn't bear the same fate as the one before it.

She popped open the bottle and considered it for a second. It was still probably cursed. Well...maybe not. Aumrauth wasn't glowing, or dead. The curses on ritual wine were always fast-acting. They had to be. They were there to absorb the byproducts of other spells.

She took a swig.

"I'm Eira."

"You may call me Dr. Archer," Elias said absently, studying the chest. "Do you suppose this one is trapped? It looks important."

They had actually started drinking the wine.

He might as well go into the tunnels on his own at this point - they were even worse than Dresden was! At least the magician could stick to the goal with a small nudge in the right direction.

Raptor dragged his hand down the front of his metal helmet out of habit. He still wasn't entirely used to having the helmet there.

"I can't believe I'm stuck here right now," he muttered. And he certainly couldn't believe he was stuck here with all of these people.

His hand returned to his side.

"The chest probably is trapped," he said. "We know one chest wasn't - unless whoever put us here is hoping we all get drunk enough to start making poor decisions."

He gave a pointed look at the two most recent offenders.

"By process of elimination, it's more likely that chest has some kind of trap involved."

A few others around Mel were drinking the wine, and they didn't die, so it must be safe, right? Wine was such a rare commodity in the Sector that she didn't think she'd ever get to try it. The others were sharing their names with each other, but Mel as busy at work trying to wrestle the cork out of the Pinot noir she snagged. After some pulling and tugging with her pinched fingers, it came out with a loud POP.

"You can call me Mel," she said afterwards. Her full name was Melikae, but no one calls her that anymore, so there wasn't a reason to introduce herself with that name.

As an impulsive move to make herself look cooler than she actually was, she took a giant swig of wine... and immediately regretted it. She recoiled as she repressed a gag and a cough, forcing the dry purple juice down her throat. Still, she couldn't help but scowl from from the awful flavor it left in her mouth because it tasted like mixture of rotten radishes and dirty bathtub water.

Nikolai noticed Mel making a face, and he winced in sympathy. It looked like her first taste of alcohol. Well, he hoped no one was getting drunk. That wouldn’t be a good thing if they were about to make any important decisions.

He looked back over at Aumrauth, who was already on his second bottle.

On second thought, someone was probably going to get quite drunk.

His attention went back to Raptor and Dr. Archer, who were discussing the possibility that the other chests were trapped. Nikolai listened to them quietly, but didn’t appear to be paying close attention.

Aumrauth finally managed to wrangle the cork out of the neck of the bottle, and it came out with another loud pop.

"HA!" was his victorious exclamation before he chugged the whole bottle in under five seconds and dropped it on the ground.

He pointed a finger to the chest everyone was fussing about.

"It probably doesn't have wine," he admitted. He'd probably gotten lucky. "But if we're stuck here, we might as well explore all of our options. Your paranoia is well founded, soldier Raptor, but it's quite a bore. Also, how on earth are the chests the thing you're the most worried about when there's a literal eldritch being in the center of the room with a gaping hole in its chest? Priorities, dinosaur."

Raptor bristled with annoyance.

God, he was worst than Bartimaeus and Dresden combined.

"I'm not a soldier," Raptor said, "and my name is actually referencing the kind of bird - not dinosaurs."

He looked back in the direction of the statue. It was admittedly a little eerie, but he had honestly seen things just as bad before. It was hard to phase him with something that reminded him so much of the demon he had left behind in his room at the Black Dragon Inn.

"And I do have my priorities straight," he added. "If anything, you don't have yours straight. The 'eldritch being' is made of stone. I've seen worst demons, and those demons were very much alive. The chests, on the other hand, could easily be trapped. Seeing that we're discussing opening them, they're the more urgent of the two."

"The statue doesn't seem to be hurting anything," Elias agreed. "Best to trigger the traps now rather than later, when we're all tired from wandering the caves." He glanced over at the young man beside the other chest, then looked to Raptor. "Sir Raptor, you seem like a strong fellow. Do you suppose you could break the lock on this one?" He gestured to the rune-marked chest. "I'll throw it open with my cane afterward."

Ainsley watched as the others bickered. He tried to introduce himself, but couldn't get a word in. Ah, well. There were more important things to worry about. He'd introduce himself later. As for the argument over the chests, both sides presented good points as to why they should, or shouldn't open them. But ultimately, he had to agree with Elias. He would rather deal with what was inside the chests now, while he was alert than after wandering the caves for who knows how long.

However, he knew that if he hesitated now he would never open the chest before him. Ainsley braced himself and swung the heavy lid open. He caught a glimpse of what looked like an ornate piece of cloth before keeling over, a sharp pain blooming in his chest. A cluster of darts had pierced through his clothes and into his skin. Gods only knew what they were laced with.

"Hey," he called out, his heart beginning to race. "Didn't one of you say you were a doctor?"

Before Raptor could reply, Elias strode over to the young man. He'd been afraid something like this would happen. "A surgeon by trade, but I'm qualified to treat injuries and illnesses." He eased Ainsley down against the chest. "May I undo your shirt, sir?" Most likely these darts were poisoned, almost definitely with lethal doses. Of what, that remained to be seen. Whatever it was, the fact that the darts had hit close to the heart meant the man would likely be dead in a matter of hours if treatment wasn't administered.

Ainlsey's vision blurred as he nodded, giving consent for the older man to remove his shirt and examine the darts. He mumbled to himself, trying to express how he should've listened to Raptor's advice, but nothing coherent came out.

"Don't talk," Elias said sternly, removing Ainsley's shirt carefully. An ugly purple hue was spreading through the young man's veins already, albeit very slowly. Elias very carefully removed the darts and reached into his bag for some disinfectant. His hands grasped nothing but a roll of gauze and a scalpel. He blinked, frowning, and peered into the bag. It was nearly empty.
"What..."