[ ♫ ] ─ * 𝐛𝐞𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡
excavation / +1 any skill
there's no protest when griss shoulders her out of the way, and wordlessly dorothea releases the girl's hand so that she can step back and allow him the space needed to cast. she's just as thunderstruck as the rest of the children, her eyes widening at the sight: it's the first time she's seen him like this, focused and illuminated by light rather than how he usually appeared to slink in the shadows. it's ironic considering their environment, but even in this dank and dark space, he somehow looks more like a man than the dark specter she'd thought him to be in the woods all that time ago.
in the spell's flickering light, griss's features appear more human. he is human, after all, and always has been, but watching him, it occurs to dorothea that there is more to the one she's written off as a frenzied man with bloodlust. she thinks to question where he's learned, and why he's learned, considering the sort of things he seemed to gravitate toward, though it's better saved for a time when the hourglass' sand isn't steadily pouring before their eyes.
"you're our best bet out of here," she tells griss. there's no trace of flattery in what she says; merely the truth. even from where dorothea stands, she swears the youngster's dark circles look a little lighter, and the abating cough gives her hope that the child's feeling stronger than before. "guess we really will have to swim. do you have enough energy to cast on the others?"
no sooner has she said this than a sharp jolt sends the platform teetering, wobbling unsteadily like an unmoored ship before it begins to vibrate. "--!!?"
A UNANIMOUS DECISION HAS BEEN REACHED, the disembodied voice bellows. whether it sounds pleased or disappointed, dorothea can't tell. but whatever it belongs to, it's clearly kept its word, for she watches on as an arched door materializes in the far left corner of the room, illuminated with enough light to make out strange carvings on its wooden paneling as well as a large brass knocker. WILL YOU LIVE TO REGRET YOUR JUDGEMENT?
So that was all it took to trigger whatever trap had been set on this platform: just a minor healing spell, hardly enough to cure any of these children of what ailed them. Griss teeters and nearly seems to fall as the rising water buoys the platform underneath him, but by some miracle of flexibility, he splashes his hands through the icy water before pulling himself back up like a doll on strings. If the children had been watching him, the stunt might have pulled a scream out of one of them at least, but their eyes, wide with panic, were all fixed on Dory and the two she'd decided to save first as they half-swam, half-trudged into the water.
The remaining two are weak, and one falls to his knees out of his chair in some desperate attempt not to be left behind. Tears beginning to spill over the corners of his eyes, he crawls over to the edge of the platform and looks as if he might tumble right in head-first when Griss snatches him back by the collar. The boy falls backwards and begins to cry.
"You better be thanking me," Griss snaps. The kid doesn't hear, and truthfully Griss isn't sure he's anyone's savior here. He'd cast that healing spell on the girl because he wanted answers, not because he intended to break the rules of this torture chamber and make her healthy, but now they were paying for it. Dory's certain they can make it out with all the kids. Griss looks back at the one girl that'd been left behind, still sitting in her chair with her head lolling back and forth, and seriously doubts they'll get out of this in one piece.
"Hold still." Standing around won't get him any closer to the door though, so he grabs the boy on the ground by the arm and jerks him up into one of the chairs that hadn't been overturned yet. He needs to think, and doing something is better than doing nothing, so he starts pulling magic into his fingertips again anyway even though he'd been serious from the beginning about killing these kids. The boy squirms in his grip, but Griss grabs him around the back of the neck like a cat to keep him from wiggling too much as the magic seeps in through his back. His attention is elsewhere though.
The gate. If Dory managed to get all four kids to it, what about him? Maybe he'd be stuck in this room as a sacrifice, and he had no intention of being left behind. His eyes flick toward the girl in the other chair. She hardly seems to be aware of what's going on around her. If he tipped her chair over, maybe she'd just drown and then they wouldn't have to worry about her anymore. But then there was this boy he was working on, who was still hiccuping and sniffling, his face bright pink with fever and emotion. Pinch his nose shut and cup a hand over his mouth and maybe--
Another pipe opens and pours more water into the room. It's risen so high now that the platform has started to float and wobble beneath them. What's more, the gate that had opened has now started to close again. Slowly, but nonetheless still pressure to get moving. Griss snarls so ferociously in the fading light of his spell that the boy cowers under him and starts crying again.
"Quit your blubbering, you snotnosed brat," Griss snaps again, which does the opposite of shutting the kid up. Griss doesn't care though. He rises to his feet and glances around the bobbing platform, then to the gate. It's about an eighth of the way down and Dory hasn't even reached it.
"Wh-what's-- wh-what's gonna h-h-happen to us?" the boy whimpers through his tears, but Griss shoves him back down into the chair when he tries to stand up.
"Shut up," he hisses. Healing these kids was a waste of time, so instead he stepped off the platform. The water was up to his waist and ice cold, but other than the crazed grin that had taken hold of his face, he didn't even react to it. With a big breath, he dove underwater instead. If Dory turned around, her partner in this rescue mission would be nowhere to be found.















