The siren whips her hand up quickly, commanding him to silence himself.
“It’s singing another verse”, she says loudly, trying to be louder than the sharp voice in her mind.
“Three chests hiding below you in the ground,
but only one can be opened when they are found.
Twist me and turn me, use me to your delight.
Then use what’s inside it and win your next fight.”
Her hands cover her ears, but the screeching voice doesn’t die out. It gets louder and louder with every line it sings.
“Get that damned key!” Lyssa is screaming. “Give it to me, please! Hurry!”
Without hesitation Bruq grabs the jar and frantically turns the lid. His fingers slip a few times before getting a good grip. The few drops of ooze smudged across the glass surface sting his fingers. It doesn’t bode well for what’s coming up next. The lid falls onto the floor. The gelatinous cube starts moving immediately, climbing its way towards freedom via the glass walls of its prison. Bruq swallows, squints his eyes a bit and pushes his hand fiercely into the jar, right into the corrosive slime.
“Fuck!”
The satyr screams and he tries to wrap his fingers around the key. They move slowly in the ooze and with every second that passes, the burning pain in Bruq’s hand and wrist increases. When he finally gets hold of the brass key, he pulls his hand back and out of the jar. However, the gelatinous monster doesn't give up that easily. It’s still stuck to his prey, engulfing his hand and very slowly devouring his fur and flesh.
Bruq raises his hand above his hand and slams it down, using the inertia to fling the cube onto the ground as he stops his movement abruptly. The slime makes a squishy and moist sound as it splatters against the rug. Its shape remains intact and it starts moving towards the satyr immediately. Luckily for him it moves leisurely, so he has enough time to toss the key to Lyssa and grab the jar again.
“Oh, no, you don’t”, he says, grinding his teeth. “You’re not going anywhere.”
He kneels down, traps the cube again within the jar and sighs. With this minor threat caught, he notices the stinging pain again. Some slime remnants still corrode his hand. He quickly rubs his arm across the carpet to get rid of the sticky mess. He looks at his hand. Most of his hairs have been eaten away and the upper layer of his skin has disappeared on multiple spots, revealing the pink and red deeper layers of his body.
Lyssa rapidly wraps her hand in a piece of cloth and picks up the key.
“Three chests hiding below you”, she murmurs between the deep breaths she’s taking. “Three chests below…”
She crawls towards the carpet and flips it over, messing up all the piles Mero created. As the pieces of parchment fall like dry leaves from a tree, a small hatch is revealed. She grabs the latch and the sensation of cold metal tingles her palm, but it’s not the only thing she feels. It’s as if the handle attracts her hand and, now that they’re connected, static electricity runs through her entire body.
“Help me with this.”
She speaks with her teeth grinding. At least the key’s irritating rhyme isn’t getting louder anymore. The volume it’s maintaining is already painful enough to fight through.
Mero, being the closest to the struggling pirate, comes to her aid. They lift the hatch and the stale odor of a dusty room that’s been sealed off for too long comes their way. It makes Lyssa cough. She makes a sickly noise as she does so. Mero, however, remains unbothered and can keep his focus on the three small chests.
“Which one do you want to open, Lyssa?” Mero’ draws her attention. “There is nothing written on them, however. I think you’re going to have to guess?”
He picks up the three chests and places them in front of the siren. The shape and size are identical, only the material the chests are made with differ from each other. The left one seems to be made out of copper, the middle one out of a bluish-grey metal and the right one out of iron. They all have the same small keyhole on top.
“Okay, okay, okay.” She keeps repeating until no one can hear her anymore, even though her lips keep forming the words. “I can’t choose. It just needs to stop. Someone help me pick.”
Oslando remembers how difficult this was back at the church in Bleakwight and it seems this time she’s in even more agony. He sits down beside her.
“Don’t think”, he says and he puts his hands on hers, trying to contain the trembling. “Make it easy. Just pick the colour you like the most and put the key in.”
Her eyes jump from one chest to another a few times before she keeps staring at one. With the help of the half-elf, she pushes the key into the top of the box and turns it.
Bruq raises his hand above his hand and slams it down, using the inertia to fling the cube onto the ground as he stops his movement abruptly. The slime makes a squishy and moist sound as it splatters against the rug. Its shape remains intact and it starts moving towards the satyr immediately. Luckily for him it moves leisurely, so he has enough time to toss the key to Lyssa and grab the jar again.
“Oh, no, you don’t”, he says, grinding his teeth. “You’re not going anywhere.”
He kneels down, traps the cube again within the jar and sighs. With this minor threat caught, he notices the stinging pain again. Some slime remnants still corrode his hand. He quickly rubs his arm across the carpet to get rid of the sticky mess. He looks at his hand. Most of his hairs have been eaten away and the upper layer of his skin has disappeared on multiple spots, revealing the pink and red deeper layers of his body.
Lyssa rapidly wraps her hand in a piece of cloth and picks up the key.
“Three chests hiding below you”, she murmurs between the deep breaths she’s taking. “Three chests below…”
She crawls towards the carpet and flips it over, messing up all the piles Mero created. As the pieces of parchment fall like dry leaves from a tree, a small hatch is revealed. She grabs the latch and the sensation of cold metal tingles her palm, but it’s not the only thing she feels. It’s as if the handle attracts her hand and, now that they’re connected, static electricity runs through her entire body.
“Help me with this.”
She speaks with her teeth grinding. At least the key’s irritating rhyme isn’t getting louder anymore. The volume it’s maintaining is already painful enough to fight through.
Mero, being the closest to the struggling pirate, comes to her aid. They lift the hatch and the stale odor of a dusty room that’s been sealed off for too long comes their way. It makes Lyssa cough. She makes a sickly noise as she does so. Mero, however, remains unbothered and can keep his focus on the three small chests.
“Which one do you want to open, Lyssa?” Mero’ draws her attention. “There is nothing written on them, however. I think you’re going to have to guess?”
He picks up the three chests and places them in front of the siren. The shape and size are identical, only the material the chests are made with differ from each other. The left one seems to be made out of copper, the middle one out of a bluish-grey metal and the right one out of iron. They all have the same small keyhole on top.
“Okay, okay, okay.” She keeps repeating until no one can hear her anymore, even though her lips keep forming the words. “I can’t choose. It just needs to stop. Someone help me pick.”
Oslando remembers how difficult this was back at the church in Bleakwight and it seems this time she’s in even more agony. He sits down beside her.
“Don’t think”, he says and he puts his hands on hers, trying to contain the trembling. “Make it easy. Just pick the colour you like the most and put the key in.”
Her eyes jump from one chest to another a few times before she keeps staring at one. With the help of the half-elf, she pushes the key into the top of the box and turns it.
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