Cormac followed along with the group, not caring much that Cordelia had been a few moments late. Stuff happened after all and it was only a few moments delay. Not worth getting worked up over. As they walked he heard their elder cousin say they would have to go down as two groups. Another inconvenience but this too was only a mild one.

"I can go down with the second group. It's not like the Pattern wont still be there when I get down there. At least I hope it would still be there."


Given their luck it was always possible that it had been defaced like the one he had been reading about. Surely someone would know if it had he assumed. Whatever the case it was just a little joke on his part to lighten the mood.

Cassandra glanced at the clock as it slowly moved past 10 o'clock 'Interesting, Cordelia is often early wonder what held up her highness'.


Turning to face Cordelia and her new source of pain, she listened intently as Cordelia talked after all it wouldn't be good if she failed this. "First, I think gets it over and done with."

Reaching the lifts Cordelia says
"Okay, I'll take Alana, Natalie, Cassandra, Rhiannon, Kenneth, and Edward in the first group, and the rest of you in the second."
She turns to Natsuki, pulls her sword, in its scabbard from the obi around her waist and says
"Look after this please I'll have it back once I've taken the first group down"
She pushes the call button on the lift, waits for the doors  to open than steps inside, taking position by the lift control panel.

Entering the lift, you notice that unlike the lift in the Foyer this lift has a call button for "sub-basement 2".
Cordelia places her hand, palm flat against the panel below the buttons.



<darkblue>"Cordelia Chan, Princess of the Royal House of Tiberius Barriman, Sub-basement 3 selection confirmed<darkblue>"


The lift will then begin to descend, reaching the basement after 24 seconds.
Exiting the lift you find yourselves in a rather boring 15ft x 20ft room, with the lifts slightly off centre. A set of double doors are in front of you as you exit the lift.
Cordelia will then say
<darkblue>"Wait here please whilst I fetch the others<darkblue>"

For those left in the servants hall, if you watch the lift readout you will observe the following..
When the lift doors close the readout says "1□", after about 5s it changes to "1▽".
There is then a further delay of 2s and it changes to "G.▽", 2s later to "B1▽", 2s later to "B2▽", then to "▽▽". After about 15s it then changes to "▭▭".
About 40s later it changes to "△△", then after about 15s to "B2△", 2s later to "B1△", 2s later to "G△", 2s later to "1△", then to "1□",

at which point the doors will open and Cordelia will step out collect her sword from Natsuki then reenter the lift becoming for the second group to join her.

Note that the process is exactly the same for the second group as for the first.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:50, Tue 25 Oct 2022.

Having a new room in which to pace, Alana does just that, ignoring the elevator, which, not being the Pattern, holds no interest to the young woman.

Having a couple of minutes to pace about the room, it's layout both becomes clearer and less obvious.
The lift shafts, there are 2 service elevators and both descend to this level are slightly off centre in the middle of the room.
The double doors, about 10ft ahead of you as you come out of the lift look like security doors, but are no more substantial than you would find in a something like the secure wing of a prison.
However, centrally in the wall directly behind the lift shafts, and about 12 ft from them is what appears to be a bank vault door, about 5 feet wide and 7 feet high, although there is no visible operating mechanism.

Additional Note for Rhiannon, Cassandra, Natalie...Once the elevator reaches the 2nd basement your headaches will disappear, at least temporarily. When Cordelia returns with the second group they'll return.
This message was last edited by the GM at 07:24, Wed 26 Oct 2022.

Rhiannon leaned against a wall as Alana paced. She did glance about, taking in the space, but knowing ahead of time which door hey might go through, was going to make no difference. Cordelia would be down soon, and they would go through the correct door and then move on to their big event. Though she should have been, Rhiannon wasn't nervous or even anxious. She was looking forward to getting it done and discovering what it all meant, but the little kaleidoscope of butterflies in her belly were all quiet.

Riding down with the second group Cormac tried to take in every detail of the new room they entered as well as the apparent state of his assorted cousins. Some seemed a bit anxious, others seeming to just want to get on with it. He was leaning more to the later sentiment. Curiously he eyed the two doors ahead of them as they exited the lift. Then his attention turned towards the rather bank like vault door behind them. It was an odd room layout but he assumed all would be made clear to them in short order.

"Well, looks like we are all here now," he said casting a glance towards Cordelia. "What's next?"

With everybody now in the sub-basement, Cordelia will head for the door behind the lift, and place her right palm on the wall about 12" from the RH side of the door, about 4ft from the floor.
She will then say "Cordelia Chan, Princess of the Royal House of Tiberius Barriman, Access Requested"

The 'vault door' will then swing open.
The door leads to a corridor 4ft wide and 8ft high.
Cordelia leads the way down the corridor stopping 40ft down the corridor about 10ft short of the sharp right-hand turn.

She then says"At this point you need to stop and positively identify yourselves."

In a significantly louder voice, and speaking to the corridor (i.e facing the corner) she will then say
"Cordelia Chan, Princess of the Royal House of Tiberius Barriman, CEO and Director Mizzurian, accompanied by
Prince Elect Cormac Camerilli
Prince Elect Kenneth Elgrim
Princess Elect Rhiannon Erica Kerrigan
Princess Elect Mei Li
Princess Elect Cassandra Troy
Prince Elect Edward Pinmillion
Princess Elect Alarna Macfarlane
Princess Elect Natalie Horn
Prince Elect Cathal O'Donoghue
Princess Elect Hashimoto Natsuki
Prince Elect Blake Hemsworth"
She then waits ..
After about 6 seconds a voice will respond
Cordelia will then continue down the corridor.
This section of corridor is about 150ft in length and apparently ends in a dead end
As you approach the end of the corridor, you notice that there are a number of rectangular slots 6" high and 3" wide in the end wall at various heights.
Set in the right hand wall is a substantial 6ft diameter circular hatch with a manual crank wheel in the centre.

On reaching the door Cordelia will say
"The door is weighted to automatically close and lock itself. It is also quite heavy, so if you could expedite your ingress through it I would appreciate it."

She then adjusts her sword so she can draw it easily, cranks the handle, pushes the door slightly ajar, turning so she has her back against the door, draws her sword and then pushes the door open, grunting as she does so. It is obvious she is used to doing this and that she is having to exert a significant amount of effort to push the door open..

The room beyond appears large and dark..
After everyone enters Cordelia will slide to the edge of the door, then let it go. It closes with a solid metallic reverberating clang.



It takes a couple of minutes for your eyes to adjust to the darkness. Cordelia remains more or less where she is by the door.
Once your eyes adjust it's actually relatively easy to see in what appears to be a huge room, about 300ft on it's major axis, and 250ft on its minor.

About 50feet away the Pattern softly glows with a pale blue light.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:17, Tue 01 Nov 2022.

As Cordelia approaches the door, Alana finally stops pacing and watches.  She takes note of the placement of Cordelia's hand and her commands and the responses.  Will she ever need to use them?  Or be able to?  Who knows, but it could prove to be useful someday.

The nervous energy that has plagued her for the last day has vanished, at least for the moment.  She follows Cordelia through the vault door and down the corridor, where she is formally announced to the wall.  It sends a little chill down her spine when she is named Princess Elect.  She never really thought of Princesses as elected but sort of assumes that it is a protocol thing of some sort.  Still, Princess.  Even knowing what she does, it still comes as a little bit of a nice surprise that makes her smile.

Approaching the second door, it occurs to Alana to wonder how one normally gets back out of the Pattern room, Trump?  Pattern teleport?  Do people come down here other than to walk it?  She does not allow her pondering to hold up the procession through the door, which she accomplishes as quickly as the small crowd allows.

Alana does not even register the door clanking shut with potentially morbid finality.  She is transfixed by the Pattern, even before her eyes fully adjust, she can see its soft glow, sense its awesome power.  It is mesmerizing and she finds herself walking in that direction as an insect in the night drawn to the candle's flame.  Perhaps more like a bug-zapper.  However, even in her slightly dreamlike state she does not get too close to the glowing blue lines that are inscribed into the floor of this place.

Instead she just stops and stares, seemingly tracing out the path in her mind.

Cue up every sword and sorcery movie ever made with a dive into some ancient magical cave. Other than the weighted door that was balanced to close and seal automatically, this was as authentic as any of them. But in this case, the contents were truly magical and the treasure more amazing than the fabled fountain of youth. Though it took her eyes a few moments to adjust to the dark, the azure glow filled the room with the most beautiful ambiance. Every bit as climactic as she hoped, the pattern sprawled out across the center of the chamber, so magnificent and beautiful in its design and intricacy. Rhiannon refused to believe that this was just a random arrangement of curves ad swirls. Like any symbol, every line had to have some meaning and her mind went straight to speculating about what.

"Cordelia," Rhiannon whispered, not wanting to disturb the power and wonder of the moment. "It's so beautiful. But is there some kind of story behind these lines and curves?"

"Yes. It's a planar representation of the Pattern inside the jewels as perceived by the wielder as they traverse it."

Rhiannon stared at Cordelia, blinking several times.

Right. Clear as Rock

Winter had followed along quietly, still fairly perplexed by the whole thing. They were back in Twilight Zone stuff, where magic was apparently a real thing. (Thought the girl who practices qi-based martial art superpowers.) At Rhiannon's question and the response, Winter shrugged visibly. "So, apparently we need to walk on these lines to make the magic work?"

Cordelia will then set out for the far end of the Cavern, circumnavigating the edge of the Pattern about 10 feet from it.

On the far side almost at the point of the major axis she stops adjacent to where there is a break in the line which delineates the Pattern's outer edge.
It is now relatively obvious that the Pattern is a set of dark paths about 2ft wide, perhaps akin to a "Celtic Maze", delineated by a mix of softly glowing predominately pale blue mixed with red and yellow lines, each line being between 7" and 13" wide.
Whilst the path winds backwards and forwards across and around the ovoid that it occupies, there are no dead-ends like a 'Maze' Maze, just a single path that winds its way from the outside to the central void.
The Pattern, which is ovoid is about 260ft on it's major axis and about 180ft on its minor axis. The central void is about 100ft on the major axis and 70ft on the minor axis. There are 3 darker areas in the 'path' that forms the pattern each about 7ft in length.



At this point she will take a bag of marbles out of her pocket, spill them into her hand, then throw them into the air so as they fall across the Pattern. Any that cross a line, even in the air above the Pattern, at less than about 3ft above it vanish in a flash, as do any that land on, or bounce or roll onto a line.

Alana nods at the instructions and immediately raises her hand when volunteers are called for.  She wants very much to get this over with.

"And I'll go after Alana."

Walking the pattern for the first time is an exhausting and exhilarating experience.

As you take your first steps, blue electric sparks appear where your feet strike the surface, which are neither cold nor warm to the touch.
As you walk further the sparks rise higher, and it feels as if you are walking through water. As the sparks rise they caress your ankles and then shins and impart a sensation such as that caused by static discharge.

As you approach the First Veil, a 7ft section of the path darker than that you've have been walking, one third of the way through the Pattern the sparks are a little over knee height.

Crossing the veil requires considerably more effort to get through, like breaking through several sheets of 4mm plywood spaced 12" apart.

The respite gained by breaking through is short lived as the discharge/sparks effect slowly rises higher reaching mid-chest height by the Second Veil, another dark area of similar dimensions that appears at the 2/3 mark.

Much more effort is required to break through the 2nd veil than the first and once through the respite is again short lived.

By the time you approach the 3rd and Final Veil just before the calm central area the discharge/sparks effect is above head height and vision is virtually impossible.

It also now feels as if you are wading through treacle, and then you hit the "quicksand" that is the third veil. Breaking through with the last of your strength you emerge into the peace and calm that is the centre, the air around you reminiscent of that just after a severe thunderstorm. From here you can go anywhere with but a thought...

Only the person actually walking the Pattern can see the effects described!


This will repeat, as each person reaches the first veil until everyone has walked the Pattern.
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:26, Sat 29 Oct 2022.

Alana takes a moment to take a couple of calming breathes and then just starts walking.  Setting her right foot on the path, it is outlined by blue-white sparks.  Then her left foot, and she can feel a sort of current running through her.  Not painful, just there.  Another step and her hair begins to rise, another step and then the path begins to curve, sharply back upon itself.  Ten more paces and certain resistance begins to arise.  To this point, it was a slog but nothing more difficult than other things Alana has experienced in her arguably short life.

But now, it is the first of the darker areas, the First Veil.  It is as if a black barrier has grown up before her of some substance that pushes back against her with each effort she makes to pass forward.  She fights her way forward, keeping what momentum she can muster.  Each raising and lowering of her feet suddenly requires a terrible effort, and sparks shoot up from her hair.

She concentrates on the fiery line before her, blocking everything else out of her consciousness, breathing heavily and then, suddenly, the pressure eases.  The Veil parts before her as abruptly as it had occurred.  She has passed the first test, proving that she is a granddaughter of the Late-King.

Visions swim in her mind of people and places, a first kiss; riding her favorite mare; the harvest dance and what happened down by the river afterward; snuggling up with her step-father as he read the comics on a Sunday morning.

She takes six more rapid steps now that the resistance has lessened, although it is still more difficult than before the First Veil.  She reaches the end of an arc and comes to the beginning of a straight line.  A right-angle turn, then another, then another, she is approaching the second darker area.  Another curve begins and it is as though she is walking in glue as she moves slowly along it.  One, two, three, four . . . she raises her fiery flats and lets them down once more, her head throbbing from the effort as though it will fly apart at any moment.

It takes all of her strength and spirit to muster the energy to move forward.  But finally, the resistance fades and the way is easier once more.  More visions, more memories.  Getting kicked by a mule; falling from the roof of the shed; losing the falcon she had found.

Ten more paces and then a swirling filigree of fire.  The sparks are up to her chest now but Alana keeps her head down, her eyes staring at the way forward, not a moment of attention spared for anything else.  Emerging from the filigree, she marches slowly along the Grand Curve.  The forces that shape the Universe pound down upon her small frame, beating her into its image.  Then, three more curves, a straight line, and a series of short arcs.  Ten turns leave her dizzy, then another short arc, a straight line and then, the final darker area, the Final Veil.

It is agony to move, Alana feels as if her entire body is on fire.  It seems that she has stopped, that all of her effort has failed to allow her to move any farther.  And yet, slowly, almost imperceptibly, her right foot inched slowly forward.  If she can just get her foot back down to the path, she knows that it will be over, that she will have made it.

But it is so hard, and the thought of just stopping and never having to work again flits invitingly through her pain-soaked senses.  She pushes those thoughts away and puts every last bit of her being into just getting her foot to the path and finishing.  Slowly, slowly, and then, it touches and she is through.

The sparks are up to her eyes when the resistance broke, there is a short arc and then the center.  Soaked in sweat, her face cherry red with the effort, and veins in her throat and forehead slightly visible, she stumbles slightly forward, catching herself without falling and stands for a moment, savoring her success.

For the most part of the morning, Cassandra had simply been following along, hoping that once this was done things would become clearer. Although a small part of her whispered that it wouldn't.

Walking through the vault door her nose wrinkling slightly at the title of Princess, she stared in awe at the pattern. It was stunning and she knew that if she ever tried to draw it reality would always be better.

She snorted internally at Cordelia's response to Rhiannon. 'concise as always'.

As Cordelia explained the pattern and what to do, Cassandra took a deep breath 'Okay think of it like diving or surfing, and don't panic' Her hand clenched and unclenched as she forced herself to breathe. Squaring her shoulders she said "I'll go third"

------------------------------------------------

Staying calm Cassandra walked, putting every other detail to the back of her subconscious she walked. One by one she reached the three veils each time she had to put more effort into putting one foot in front of the other but she was calm and determined.

Rhiannon was ready to go first, but Alana went ahead and stepped forward. Once Alana started though, Rhiannon was glad to have the opportunity to watch. It was an almost mesmerizing experience. While she could only imagine from previous descriptions what Alana was going through, the slow progression and look of determination made her in suspense, feeling the tension of watching a tightrope walker balance her way between two tall buildings. It felt like the trek to just the first veil took hours, but it was only a bit more than 10 minutes.

When Cordelia called Rhiannon up, those butterflies went all aflutter in her belly. Rhiannon wasn't nervous before, but she was now. There really was no reason to be. She recalled that a fourteen year old had done it. The only risk was if she stumbled, or wasn't the blood princess Cordelia though. In those cases, Rhiannon's time was up, but she didn't really believe either would happen. And so she put a foot down on the pattern.

There were sparks. Did anyone tell her there would be sparks? Alana didn't have sparks. Rhiannon suddenly remembered the marbles flashing out of existence and prayed, but she didn't stop. When her second step fell, she felt reasonably sure that she wasn't going to go up in a puff of blue flame. But she did feel the resistance. It wasn't much different from walking through the shallow waves lapping the beach, except instead of the soothing wash of water, it tingled like an electrical massage. From watching Alana, she did expect the increased difficulty as she went. It was like going into deeper water, but when she finally reached what Cordelia called the first veil, she had to push every step through as if she were walking through brambles.

Breaking through the veil found the path easier, but with a few steps the overall resistance got stronger and the sparks got higher. It was the same exercise, but so much harder. Visions assailed her mind. Events in her life that brought both joy and sadness. But they were a distraction, so she focused on the path; the treacherous yellow brick road that lead to Oz. Except the road fought her every step of the way; not with strange denizens and traps laid by a witch, but with a current of force meant to bar her way. She could see the second veil ahead, and though she knew it in itself was a test, it became her goal and counting down the steps brought her there.

The second veil was like stepping out into a hurricane. Not that she had ever done that, but she imagined it would be the same. Giant winds trying to stop her, push her back, but yielding as she pressed into them. Rhiannon didn't notice it before. Maybe it wasn't there. But as she pushed through, she could feel something inside, as if the pattern was changing her; etching itself into her soul with a razor sharp electric blade. More distraction. The next section, the last one was all she wanted in her head.

Breaking through the second veil was hardly a respite. While the difficulty did dip, it was still like trudging through mud. The sparks danced now in front of Rhiannon's eyes obscuring her path, but the glow of the pattern itself was a sufficient guide. Every step was a feat, almost painful in the effort and that sensation of being rebuilt from the inside out. The third veil itself was almost a relief in that it felt almost impossible to got one more step. It was like hitting a wall, except the wall gave ever so slightly. Why that was somehow better seemed irrational, but every inch gained was a victory. To move, to even shuffle her foot forward took an awareness of her own body that she never had. And just when the resistance seemed the most impossible, it all went away and she was standing in the center.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:53, Tue 01 Nov 2022.

Cormac felt drawn towards the pattern as events in the room developed. Not in the way that a moth is drawn to the flame and inevitably to it's death. No, this was more a sense of familiarity. On some fundamental level he had felt that this existed and that he was part of it. He just hadn't recognized that longing for what it was. Now, seeing it in person, he understood. This is where he was meant to be.

He signaled his intent to go next after Alana, Cassandra and Rhiannon. Once the signal was given he stepped forward, all attention focused on the pattern beneath his feet. It was hard going, as Cordelia had said, but he felt a powerful need to complete this. If nothing else to prove to himself that he was part of all this. That he was his father's son...whoever that turned out to be.

With each step he felt that his old self was being reshaped to include the complete image of the pattern within his very soul. It was an odd feeling but an exhilarating one. Pressing on each step was harder than the last. Memories of long ago as well as people and places he didn't recognize fought for his attention. Some effect of the pattern he supposed as the full weight of all reality as stamped upon him. Keeping his discipline though Cormac fought on, attention focused solely on the task at hand.

After what seemed like an eternity he fought his way through to the end. Pushing through to the center he had one last step to make. It was an enormous feat of will to take it but he refused to yield and finally forced his way through to the center.

Blake is cautious, happy to let others go first and see what the effects on them are before venturing into this new challenge.

When he sees that the others are able to succeed,his competitive nature goads him on, and he proceeds to follow Cormac.

He reminds himself of the instructions and explanations, clearing his mind and focusing on the the path before him as he takes his first step.  The first steps are electric, charging him with energy, like the first steps of a run.  As he reaches the first veil, he pushes harder against the increased resistance, and as he pushes through, a sweat breaks out.

The sweat tingles on his skin as he continues, wondering for a moment what sort of energy this is, exactly,  before he discards the thought and regains his focus, concentrating on the path forward.  He is not tired yet, but in the sweet spot that people call 'warmed up', body loose and strong and comfortable exerting maximum effort.  As he reaches the second veil, he feels the resistance build, and he pushes harder, a much harder push than before, mind forward and his muscles following suit.  He doesn't allow himself a moment of doubt, and his will pushes through, letting his body follow in its wake.

There is hardly a respite before he comes to the third veil, and the effort now is beyond anything he's ever experienced. It's never taken all of his will to do anything in his life, and the challenge feels almost beyond him.  But he doesn't give up,  he pushes forward, effort so strong it's painful, every iota of his mental force focused on the next step, then the next, and the next.  He sees nothing but the strange energy storming around him, but he hardly notices, his concentration is so purely on moving forward.

Then, in one last impossible step, he is through.  Standing in the center, breathing heavily, sweat drying on his body.

Time ticks by as Alana, Rhiannon, Cassandra, and then Cormac each take their turns to set foot on the Pattern, about 13 minutes apart, the approximate time it takes to reach the first veil.
As Blake starts his walk Alana reaches the centre an vanishes from sight of those standing on the periphery watching and waiting their turn.

This message was last edited by the GM at 11:40, Sat 05 Nov 2022.

Winter coolly took her turn. Her foot stepped down on the path. Electricity began running up her body, and she started to walk forward, initially with slow, lithe steps, then beginning to jog a bit from the fuzzy, tingling energy caressing her legs. The jog slowed back to the original walk as the rising energy started engulfing her legs, like a tide coming in. Except she couldn't actually swim in this, or she'd have dressed appropriately.

Reaching the first veil, breaking through felt "easy enough," and she moved through a Taiji taolu as she passed the resistance, using the strikes to keep herself centered before pushing onward. She continued moving forward, the sparks rising to her waist, then her chest, though she was far from exhausted at this point. Still, the second veil was a true barrier, and she had to focus her entire being on making it through, and after that point there was no more room for thought. Each step, each turn and curve were precise as the martial artist headed down the final stretch. She forced the strain from her mind, allowing nothing to impede her purpose, for she was at this moment a warrior.

At the third veil, Winter paused to gather breath, qi flowing from her dantian into her muscles for a final burst of strength. She pushed through the veil and reached the center, but took no time to rest. Cordelia's instructions were precise.

Natalie moved forward to take her place at where the Pattern began. She followed the lambent pathway again with her eyes, remembering the labyrinth she had once walked as a meditation while on retreat. Wisdom is a spirit that is intelligent, holy, unique. Wisdom penetrates all reality, she thought to herself. She is found in the very design of the universe and cosmos. Wisdom is the Artisan of all. She raised her foot then, placed it on the path, and without hesitation strode forward. Substance reflected to infinity in Shadow.

The current she had been expecting flowed through her, the static making a halo of her long, loose hair. Each step was incrementally more difficult than the last, but Natalie pushed onward against the rising resistance. The Pattern was a test not merely of blood, she realized, but of strength both mental and physical. She understood also that, as the Pattern imprinted itself on her, so too did she imprint herself on it. The First Veil fell before her advance, but as it parted the way became more difficult still. The sparks were to her knees. Must. Not. Lose. Momentum.

Pressing on toward the Second Veil, each step became a deliberate act of will. The sparks now rose to her waist, yet she slid each foot forward in turn. Each step became shorter than the one that preceded it, each movement slower than the last, still she continued to advance. Her muscles fought for every inch she moved ahead, her lungs worked like a bellows. The Second Veil parted only after a struggle that seemed like it began a lifetime ago. It had not been her who had begun it, but a different Natalie. She could feel the change within. The sparks did not surround her so much as permeate and suffuse her.

Now it seemed eternities passed with each step, that nothing less than the commitment of her entire being could impel her feet forward. Step. Her entire life flashed before her eyes ere the sparks rose to blind her. Step. A pillar of sparks was she, a tower, a fountain. She knew the path as if by instinct now, knew where each step ahead must fall, that failure would mean dissolution. The sparks would fade, to reveal that nothing remained of the stubborn, even willful, woman who began this sojourn. Step. Torn apart by primal forces. Step. Rewritten at a higher level of being, remade of sterner stuff. Step. The Final Veil, an immovable object. But the Pattern had by then transformed Natalie into an irresistible force. Nothing existed outside the boundary of her being. Her being was like an axe, her will like the muscle which swung it. The Third Veil parted as if she were chopping firewood with every fiber of her being.

The last few steps were denouement, the deep exhalation after the cosmos itself held its breath. Natalie sank to her knees and seemed to tremble. It was only when the sound reached them that those still present realized she was laughing. And the next instant, she was gone.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:56, Mon 07 Nov 2022.