Another RWG - Self Daily15
Oct. 13th, 2017 01:42 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dethoratsPrompt: Nun
Word Count: 427
The convent was unexpected, tucked away against the side of the mountain as if it had been carved there. As she cautiously investigated, Taerythos alert in the back of her brain and the straps holding the axe to her back loosened should she need it quickly, she realized it had been, at least in part. Some of the simple cells were actually caves and, as she ventured deeper, creeping down the narrow, rough-hewn staircases made slick from countless footsteps and the slow damp rot that had set in, she found that there were bigger and bigger caverns the lower she went.
So far the place had been empty; no one but a few grouchy ravens had responded to her calls and her voice had echoed back to her from the abandoned rooms. On the upper levels, where she had arrived via the old traders’ route through the Northern Gap, there had been mainly individual rooms. Those were tiny and had held little more than rotting rope beds and dusty wooden desks and chairs. A small arrival hall marked the end of the narrow track connecting back to the main path. That had been empty except for the remains of an old campfire, so ancient only a few sticks too small for ravens’ nests and a smear of soot were left on the flagstone floor.
At about the third or fourth level down, she started finding store rooms. Again, the place had been abandoned for some time. There was no lingering stench of rotting food and only a few faint traces of rock-hard cheese had been left unscavenged. The water barrels had been musty and she wasn’t one for strong drink so she wasn’t sure if the wine was good or not. It didn’t smell of vinegar but she didn’t care for alcohol in any event so she left those alone. Down the next set of stairs and the cave nature of the room became more apparent as there were no longer window slits to let in any light and the temperature had dropped. There must have been some ventilation she couldn’t see, though, because it was dry, no chilly humidity upon her skin.
She went back up a level to make a torch from what scraps remained and then the floor below gave up its secrets. She was in a library, rows of books, and Kalla also stumbled over her first body. The cave had mummified the nun rather than let her rot, and her simple habit revealed her profession and the identity of the building both.
Word Count: 427
The convent was unexpected, tucked away against the side of the mountain as if it had been carved there. As she cautiously investigated, Taerythos alert in the back of her brain and the straps holding the axe to her back loosened should she need it quickly, she realized it had been, at least in part. Some of the simple cells were actually caves and, as she ventured deeper, creeping down the narrow, rough-hewn staircases made slick from countless footsteps and the slow damp rot that had set in, she found that there were bigger and bigger caverns the lower she went.
So far the place had been empty; no one but a few grouchy ravens had responded to her calls and her voice had echoed back to her from the abandoned rooms. On the upper levels, where she had arrived via the old traders’ route through the Northern Gap, there had been mainly individual rooms. Those were tiny and had held little more than rotting rope beds and dusty wooden desks and chairs. A small arrival hall marked the end of the narrow track connecting back to the main path. That had been empty except for the remains of an old campfire, so ancient only a few sticks too small for ravens’ nests and a smear of soot were left on the flagstone floor.
At about the third or fourth level down, she started finding store rooms. Again, the place had been abandoned for some time. There was no lingering stench of rotting food and only a few faint traces of rock-hard cheese had been left unscavenged. The water barrels had been musty and she wasn’t one for strong drink so she wasn’t sure if the wine was good or not. It didn’t smell of vinegar but she didn’t care for alcohol in any event so she left those alone. Down the next set of stairs and the cave nature of the room became more apparent as there were no longer window slits to let in any light and the temperature had dropped. There must have been some ventilation she couldn’t see, though, because it was dry, no chilly humidity upon her skin.
She went back up a level to make a torch from what scraps remained and then the floor below gave up its secrets. She was in a library, rows of books, and Kalla also stumbled over her first body. The cave had mummified the nun rather than let her rot, and her simple habit revealed her profession and the identity of the building both.
