[RP] Crag's Secrets: Chapter 1 - Arrival

The grand halls of the royal court, once a marvel of intricate mechanisms, with gears, pulleys, and ingenious devices humming with life, now lie in eerie silence. The king’s nephew, once trusted, has turned these very creations into instruments of his dark ambition. Through treachery and deceit, he has seized control, casting the loyal supporters of the rightful king into chains.

You, esteemed members of the royal family and steadfast loyalists, are among those betrayed. Under the cover of night, you were seized, bound in shackles of iron and stone, and thrown into cold, reinforced cages. The nephew’s dark plans were whispered as you were loaded onto the backs of massive, steam-powered pterodactyls—mechanical beasts of bronze and granite, their wings thrumming with the energy of ancient engines.

With no chance to resist, you were flown over vast oceans and storm-laden skies, the familiar world below giving way to an alien landscape of stone and mist. The journey was a torment of bitter winds and relentless cold, your fates sealed by the nephew’s sinister machinations.

As dawn broke, the mechanical pterodactyls descended upon a remote island, veiled in mist and mystery. The landscape below was like nothing you had ever seen—towering stone monoliths inscribed with forgotten symbols, great gears and mechanisms the size of houses, slowly turning as if driven by some ancient power, and jungles of giant, fern-like trees swaying in the wind, their leaves whispering secrets of long-lost civilizations.

Unceremoniously, you were dropped into an overgrown clearing, surrounded by remnants of a once-great civilization—crumbling stone towers adorned with intricate carvings, and great wheels half-buried in the earth, still ticking away in some unfathomable rhythm. The mechanical screech of the pterodactyls echoed through the stone valleys as they ascended back into the clouds, leaving you stranded in this strange, ancient land.

But all is not lost. You are not mere captives—you are royalty, warriors, and loyalists, bound by honor and duty, and armed with the knowledge and courage of the royal court. The island may be remote and filled with perilous wonders, but it is here, amidst the forgotten relics of a bygone era, that your journey begins. You must harness the ancient technology around you, use your wits and strength to survive, and uncover the secrets of this island. Perhaps, within the ticking gears and ancient stones, lies the key to returning to the kingdom you swore to protect.

The adventure starts now. The fate of the royal family—and perhaps the kingdom itself—rests in your hands. Will you rise to the challenge, mastering the mechanical marvels of this lost world, or will the island’s ancient secrets consume you?

Shallan stood at her worktable, adjusting the alignment of her blasting spear, her own recreation of a tool used by ancient warriors and her masterpiece, pushing back her unruly red hair and squinting down the barrel with her magnifying lenses, she rose as she heard a noise behind her, turning to see her cousin "Ah, would you like to look at my latest project, I'm just about fin..." she started to explain when his companion threw a rough sack over her head, and pressed his hand over her mouth to stifle her surprised scream.



At first she wondered if it was a game, though her cousin had never seemed the sort to indulge in such, but it quickly became apparent that something was wrong... she was glad of her thick overcoat, preventing many a scuffed knee or torn dress as she was unceremoniously dragged through the corridors.

---

Panic set in as she was loaded onto the mechanical pterodactyl, her 'hood' removed. Did they mean to just throw her off, body cast into the sea or the distant jungle? She barely even marvelled over their construction as she, some others were here... and as the fear and panic subsided she was glad of the company. Even as she curled up wondering what was to become of them.

---

Finally lowered down to touch bare earth, she dropped to her knees. Letting the tears flow as it really hit her that her old life was gone. She's not sure how long she cried for but it felt like hours, but she pulled herself to her feat.

"Well, I guess the first order of the day is survival." she swallowed, she'd barely spent any time outside the palace, even less in anything that could be called 'wilderness', but there was nothing else to be done.

Brother Bartholomew, Disciple of Stone, yawned and stretched his limbs as the first glimmers of sunlight poked their rosy fingers through his window and danced insistently on his his weary eyelids. Another day, another dilophosaurus, as Master Sammo would say. Getting up at the crack of dawn was something so drilled into Bartholomew's routine that even nearly a half-century distant from the Monastery of Stone, he could not resist. After performing the most basic of ablutions, Bartholomew settled into his morning katas, as he had done for decades on end. A stiff body begets a stiff mind; a stiff mind begets becoming a stiff.. The tenets and koans of his youth were coming more and more frequently to him recently. Bartholomew attributed this to his increasing unease with Leonidas's continued absence. I had advised him that there was more unrest below the surface closer to home, but he was confident he would be back in less than three months. It has been much longer.

Bartholomew settled into a resting stance, and started his warm-ups. Ha!, Ya!, ee-OOhf!, the exhalations that focused and channeled his ki sounded over the carefully cleared and raked training area right outside his hut. As he continued, he thought of the unexpected twists and turns his life had taken. The ancient mantras filled his mind and he whispered them, almost unthinkingly.

Stone is the bedrock on which we build our lives. Stone is solid. Stone is dependable. Stone is unyielding. Yet, stone can be carved. Stone may be shaped by wind, water, or people. Stone is beautiful—both raw and shaped. Be as stone. Remote and cold or close and warm; whichever is needed. Strong and unchanging or shaped to purpose. In every circumstance of your life, be a Disciple of Stone.

As he flowed between offense and defense, he remembered…

[ +- ] The Monastery of Stone

The Monastery of Stone. Imposing, unassailable, remote, frightening……home.

A newborn orphan deposited at the base of the 2,500 steps that led up to the main complex. The students bringing the infant to the master, who decided to keep the boy.

The imposing Master Sammo as seen through the eyes of a four-year old orphan. Larger than life; as wide as he was tall. Hands that could crush ankylosaurus armor yet cradle an anchiornis egg without it cracking. A smile which lit up the room; a frown that could quiet a royal messenger at 20 yards. Worst of all, a look of disappointment that could pierce the heart more effectively than a spear.

A five-year-old Bartholomew tasked with scrubbing the dinosaur spoor. If we had only birds, that would be so much easier. But no, we have arambourgiania and thapunngaka with spoor feet long. And the smell! First the training areas, then the ledges, soon, the six and seven year old Bartholomew was scaling the cliffs with neither rope nor grapnel and scrubbing the temples. Then the cooking, the other cleaning, the running of messages, the constant race up-and-down the 2,500 steps.

Of course, in hindsight, this was all physical and mental conditioning.

The nine-year old Bartholomew waiting on Master Sammo when he sat in judgement. Two local peasants seeking the guidance of Master Sammo in a dispute. After the peasants had plead their case, the master told them to return the next day. When they had left, Master Sammo turned to Bartholomew and ask him what he thought.

Master Sammo bringing Bartholomew with him whenever he had to engage in adjudication or politics. "You will serve the people more with your mind than your body, young Bartholomew" the master had told him.

The barely teen-aged Bartholomew tearfully bidding his master farewell before being taken to the royal palace to apprentice to the king's advisors.

The disciplines of the monastery serving Bartholomew well as he learned the intricacies of royal politics, the many duties of the king, and how he could serve.

The good times, the bad times. The dalliances which led nowhere. The duels that left others with scars on their face and Bartholomew with scars on his soul. The late-night deals between the palace and the underworld when needed. The late-night raids by the palace guards when the deals went awry.

Drawing his staff, Bartholomew switched from the unarmed styles to those using the bo. Spinning like a dancer, he continued to reminisce about how he grew older and wiser—closer to Leonidas and his court. He remembered rejoicing with the king and queen when young Shalla was born, drinking toasts and praising the One True God deep into the night. He smiled as he remembered how she gravitated to the mechanical arts even as a young child. Disassembling her toys and reassembling them in novel fashion was just the start.

As Bartholomew flowed from stance to stance, spinning the staff so quickly as to appear as a wheel of wood, his mind fluttered over the myriad trade deals, border disputes, unruly nobles, and strange bedfellows of the intervening years. He then thought of his own network within the palace compound. Over the years a collection of clerks, servers, laundresses, the unseen and unheard. Never too many; the king's military and law enforcement had their own networks, after all, but enough to take the pulse of the royal compound, at least. One of his most important agents was a very talented halfling, Belladona. A talented musician and discrete courier, she was attached to Shalla's entourage. Ostensibly, to both provide entertainment to the young princess and to serve as her discreet factotum. More accurately, however, she was an integral part of the princess's security detail, being ever so slightly more deadly than the average flautist.

As Bartholomew started his cool down, his thoughts inevitably turned to Leonidas's unreasonably long absence. He should have returned weeks ago. Bartholomew's network was picking up more signs of unease in the population. Informers which used to veritable founts of information for a few coins or drinks had completely dried up. Contacts did not respond. Some of his agents to the south had not returned their messenger birds in over a week. For the first time in years, Bartholomew was seriously concerned about unrest. He used the excuse of age to bring his staff with him everywhere. He started carrying his healing herbs on his person.

Wiping himself off, Bartholomew plodded back to his hut, washed himself from his exertions, and dressed for the day. Making his way to the kitchens for his customary morning tea, he noticed that the cook staff seemed upset; some of the regular faces weren't there and new ones were. One of the new staff approached Bartholomew with a steaming cup of tea. Thank you, said Bartholomew as he took his first sip. Hmmm, the tea is more floral and slightly more acrid than usual. Is the blend off?, Bartholomew turned to the server when he was hit by an overwhelming sense of enervation and lethargy. Oh no! he thought in horror as he found himself slipping to the floor…

---

Bartholomew awoke, manacled and chained, in a cage on the back of a huge Quetzalcoatlus. Channeling his mental discipline be as stone…be as stone…be as stone repeating through his mind, he took stock of the situation. He was whole in body, unharmed, and still had his staff and pouches, thank the one true god. Sometimes it is good to be underestimated. Looking around at his and the other flying lizards, he realized he was one of a few captives. He recognized the princess and Belladona, of course. There was also one of the cooks, what was his name; Kismet, Kimjet, Kimbek, yes Kimbek, and a rather impressively-built dwarf whom he did not recognize. So it was a coup after all, given that the princess is here as well. Bartholomew was furious with himself. I sensed it was brewing, but not the immanency. How foolish and complacent have I become in my dotage?? Not knowing what would happen next, Bartholomew decided he must conserve his strength—both physical and mental—and brought himself into a light meditative trance.

---

After some time, the reptiles landed in and masked guards forced them out of their cages onto the ground in what was clearly a jungle environment. Enjoy the rest of your lives, howsoever long or brief it may be, one of the guards said cruelly. And never fear, the new regime can honestly say you were alive and healthy last we knew! He laughed as he remounted the lizard and flew off into the afternoon sky.

Bartholomew looked around him. No immediate threats. First order of business is to round everyone up and take stock of what supplies and skills we have. Survival must take priority to justice—or revenge. We must have a fire, water, and set up a watch before night falls. We can worry about food in the morning. With that thought, Bartholomew went searching for the princess and the others.

It was a busy day at work since a pair of new riding dinosaurs where brought it. Dwarf made it clear that he want to personally introduce arrives to the kennels. Nevertheless he found time to spend with Silver (name a dog) before going to the tavern tonight. He lost quite some money in a dice game and drunk maybe a bit more than usual. Dark thoughts were running through his mind on way back home
Humans don't like me despite the effort royal family put to make me fit social standards. I hate the haircut and what they did to my beard. This city is full of weak humans - weak in soul and flesh... and yet they are "respected social being" .
Just a dark moment. He just need to get back into fighting pit to unload emotions. But not tonight. Tonight he need to have a good sleep

And he slept. Slept like never before. He had a bad dream. He were seized, bound in shackles of iron and stone, and thrown into cold, reinforced cage.
Waking up Sadur realize it was no dream. Still there in the cage. Silver licking his mouth. Silver saved him from going crazy. Really. It is only now in the cage as he realize that it was the job, duty and the hobbies that kept him busy. Busy from realizing what an empty life he live away from the mountains. Away from his ancestor lands.
Sadur knees, kiss the grass underneath and whisper few words in his mother tongue. He sounds determined, extremely so.

Belladonna was dry brushing Pepper, to soothe both herself and her dryosaur companion. Usually, she would be near Princess Shallan for her protection, especially with the unease Brother Bartholomew had mentioned last time she saw him. However, the princess did not appreciate attendants or music while she was in her workshop and would be well-guarded in the inner castle. Her mind wandered as she thought back to what had brought her here.

---

Halflings are considered as a sort of model minority in the kingdom. They build their homes in extremely hilly areas that are too difficult for humans to farm in, but the halfling engineering and understanding of the land allowed them to thrive agriculturally. Halflings usually have an "adventurous" phase, but that type of adventuring was hiking and finding exotic mushrooms in the forests. For Belladonna, it involved her visiting the nearest human settlement and observing a travelling acrobatic troupe. She always loved to play her flute and perform, but what really caught her eye were the amazing tricks and choreography they could perform with their dinosaurs! She was fascinated and once the troupe announced they were taking people along, she quickly stepped forward to join. She kissed her family good-bye, promising to write, and she spent the next year travelling the kingdom and performing. She learned many things, but her greatest asset to the troupe was standing on their lead ankylosaurus, playing her flute and plying people to see their performances. She had a gift at picking out those who would dance the most enthusiastically or work well with their hypnotist. This skill may have caught Brother Bartholomew's eye for when they played for the royal court, she was called back alone to join as a personal attendant to the princess! King Leonidas and Queen Mirella were extremely kind and welcoming as she learned about the court and its relation to the kingdom as a royal messenger and eventually the other skills she would need to be both attendant and protector of the princess. She felt especially fond of her charge as Shallan reminded her of her little sister back home. She could be a little overbearing in her watchfulness, but she was trying to be better of late, leaving the princess alone while she tinkered and taking on extra messenger assignments that Bartholomew had been asking for during the King's long absence.

---

She was broken from her thoughts when she heard loud sounds of thudding and muffled shouts. Belladonna opened Pepper's gate to let her escape if necessary and she peeked around the stable doors. Rough men were loading large moving sacks into cages attached to mechanical pterodactyls.

How strange, the castle usually avoids the mechanical dinosaurs after what happened with the smuggling ring.

She soon spots Shallan's iconic red hair poking out of one of the sacks and knows something is terribly wrong. She turns to grab Pepper and run for help when a sack goes over her and she is shoved into those very same cages.

---

Belladonna wormed her way out of the sack she was in and found herself in a cage above the clouds. She had never been so high before and better understood the look of fear she would sometimes see in the tightrope walkers. Looking into the other cages and whoever was there with her, she saw people who helped to defend the royal family such as Brother Bartholomew and Sadur. But her focus was on Princess Shallan and comforting her, however she could. She gave her cloak to Shallan to keep her warm and played the flute at the beginning to try and keep their spirits up. She stopped after the first night as she realized they were not going to get any food or water until they got to where they were going. As she saw Sadur being comforted by Silver, she prayed that Pepper was safe and able to get away, though she would miss her.

---

Finally on solid ground again, Belladonna could feel her legs wobble and completely understood Sadur's happiness at reaching land once again.

"You are perfectly right Princess. We should get together with the others and focus on getting a fire started with that sun getting so low..."

She tries to smile brightly at Shallan, but her eyes quickly dart around the clearing they are in, taking count of those who are with them and the safety of their current location.

Kimbek spent most of the day in the royal kitchens, helping to prepare and taste all the dishes for the royal banquet, but spent a little bit of time attempting to bond with the ancient wolf spirit that had first enchanted him years ago. This involved both meditation and some aspect of rituals, both taught by the Wolf Spirit and picked up from other sources. It was not the first time he had tried to invoke the animus of the Grey Wolf, either into himself, or others, or weapons, or even animals (Sadur's hounds could almost sense the wolf spirit on their own.) or any number of things. And in a sense, he could use the perceptions of the ancient spirit to feel the dangers around the royal court.

He was making his way back to the King's court, a heavy sense of foreboding lying in his throat, when he first heard the muffled screams and furtive movements in flickering torchlight. "Who goes there?" he cried with an authoritative voice, even if he did not quite believe in it himself. He raised a torch even further and attempted to tap into his inner sight but the brief interlude of concentration did not prevent him from being likewise handled by unknown forces. Darkness. The muffled shouts of others. Pain in the back of his head and silence for a few hours, though the squeal of metal grinding on metal managed to break through his mental barrier on at least one occasion.

When consciousness returned, he found himself in the cold cage astride a mechano-pterodactyl. He first reached out with his spiritual sense to see if he could feel the connection with the Wolf Spirit, and while the connection was still there he felt it much weaker than previously. So he attempted to quiet the rising fear and panic as he felt the crisp air whisk through the cages. Sadur, he recognized, the keeper of the kennel and his compatriot among the Grey Wolves.... "Clan?" He was never certain what their group was officially called but it never really needed a name. Just being known as the Grey Wolves was enough for the fighting arenas. Kimbek thought briefly of breaking the loud whipping noise of the wind and the squeal of the metal wings, but realized he would have to raise his voice significantly to be heard. He even made a half-hearted attempt to get the attention of Sadur, but the realization of their predicament (and his own sore throat from yelling the night before) taught him elsewise. Still, he thought of attempting to use the time of travel to whatever destination they were going to as a means of strengthening his bond to the spirit. And when he grew tired of that after an hour or so, he attempted to identify any injuries on himself or others he could see. Wherever they were being taken, they would need to live, all of them.

After being unceremoniously dropped in the midst of a jungle clearing, he did what he could to roll to avoid any serious injury from the fall, took a deep breath to conquer his own fears and trepidations and called out to anyone else nearby. "Is anyone hurt?"

When you were still in the cages on the back of the giant, mechanical pterodactyl, you noticed that its crew was very sparse, especially considering the number of prisoners transported. But you were also sure of one thing: they were not ordinary people. They were all dressed in identical outfits: a dark green tunic, a cloak of the same color, a hood and a mask. All the masks were exact copies of themselves and represented the muzzle of a jackal. This puzzled you greatly, because the way the enemy crew moved and performed all actions was incredibly organized and systematic. At the same time, you never managed to determine whether your captors had any hierarchy and whether any of them had a higher rank than the others. In your presence, they communicated only with gestures. Although some of you noticed that when they were away from the cages, sometimes they seemed to talk briefly among themselves, but always and exclusively when there were two people. It undoubtedly puzzled you - not to say worried to the bone - deeply: what kind of organization could it be, that could train people to such degree of obedience and adherence to... procedures? Plans? Habits? Some of you simply couldn't even find the proper word to describe the vibe the pterodactyl's crew had projected on you....

Each of you was led out of the cage separately, tied under arms with a rope, unceremoniously pushed off the deck of the mechanical beast and slowly lowered down until your feet touched the ground. Then you would start to feel an unpleasant tugging, which was a clear signal that it was time to untie yourself form the rope.

When the last of you had untied yourself, the next thing that went down the rope was Sadur's dog - Silver- in a big sack. The dog was also connected to another mystery, as for some reason it was treated much better than the humans during the flight. He had a separate cage of his own, and he certainly got better food than all the other prisoners. None of you saw any of your captors ever eat or drink anything. Although they could certainly do it below deck.

Even before you felt the ground beneath your feet... the first thing that hit you was a wave of hot, muggy air pouring from the heated ground and the incredibly developed vegetation. With every meter separating you from the ground, consumed by your descent, you felt that you were being absorbed... swallowed... by one large organism made up of millions of types of plants and animals. This organism was commonly called: the Jungle - and you couldn't help or do anything against it, but to became a new... fragile... unwelcome part of it.

When you started looking around to see where exactly you are, for any particular signs in the wall of vegetation surrounding you in a tight circle, you noticed that the mechanical monster that had brought you here was not flying away still... it was hanging in the sky and seemed to be waiting for something.

After a few moments, those with the best sense of sight noticed in the rays of the setting sun that something was clearly happening on board the flying pterodactyl. Some commotion. A bang. Quick steps of many feet. Another bang. Someone shouted something... and then you saw a dark, rectangular shape of a size of a horse or bigger roll off the deck and start falling straight down at you still gathered in the center of a small clearing!

What do you do?

Kimbek watches in horror as the dark shape descends upon them. "By the Gods, what is that?!" He looks around at the others and realizes the danger they are in. "Quickly, move out of the way!" He attempts to make his way out of the clearing, or at least out of the way of the falling object.

Barely having chance to get her bearings Shallan sees something falling towards them, and with an alarmed scream tries to scramble out of the way, momentarily cursing her shut-in nature and ignoring of physical lessons as a child.

I don't think so Sadur answer as he took care to watch everyone lowering by a rope. When he suddenly see shape falling. Not yet! he say instinctively moving to protect Shallan screaming.

Belladonna is quickly distracted from assessing their landing area by the noise and scuffle above them. Whatever was landing was something their captors did not like and the enemy of your enemy is a friend. Hopefully it was just supplies or things to aid them instead of a living being.

Ideally, they would figure out how to help this thing land, but she was never trained to do such things. She throws whatever soft thing she has like a bedroll or cloak to the area where the thing will land to try and break its fall while trying to encourage others to do so as well before she dives out of the way.

In those first few seconds, Bartholomew takes stock of his surroundings Unskilled Perception check. Considering their captors, he pondered the costumes of their abductors. Using the jackal as their symbol? Bartholomew wracked his memories for any reference of jackals in both the divine scriptures and the general body politic Rolling both Divine Lore and General Lore checks. If they worship or value the canine form, that may explain the dog's treatment, he mused. Bartholomew breathed a sigh of relief when he sees Shalla unharmed and being comforted/protected by Belladona and others. As he makes his way over to the rest of the abductees, Bartholomew loosens the collar of his robe. The palace was comfortable and the monastery was in the mountains. This heat and humidity is veritably palpable. Although, they do say that the heat is good for an old man's joints he thinks with a smile.

A bang, a crash, and a shout alerts him to a falling object. Instinctively, Bartholomew leaps to wrap the princess in his arms and roll with her out of the way Athletics check. As he lunges for her, he thinks to himself Leaping INTO the path of the falling object, what we do for love.

Being on the new land for the first time, feeling the tall grass catching on the cuffs of your pants or the bare skin on your legs, realizing how small you all are in comparison to surrounding trees and bushes most of you feel overwhelmed at first. Crushed by the amount of greenery and its density. Almost choked by the amount of smells. Trying to adjust your ears to new, never heard, yet muffled sounds. Most of you.

But not Sadur. Was it his sturdy dwarven nature? The ruthless training that every member of the Mountain Clans goes through? Or his wilderness rooted deep in his eyes and soul of Barbarian? That he never lost, even though he was at the court for so many years already? Either way: after he kissed the ground, he immediately raised his body back, still crouching and observing, wondering: why here? Is there anything special about this clearing?

It was a little, but very perceptive Belladonna who was first realizing what is happening onboard the flying pterodactyl and that apparently one of the heavier containers is about to fall straight on them. But why? They could have killed them at any time during their journey to this wild place. Lead by an inexplicable premonition she felt that she has to protect its contents more then run away immediately. But what she could do in those split seconds that were left before the container will roll off the deck and start fall on them? Apparently panicked, she tried to take her pillow out from her backpack and throw it at the place of container was supposed to fall. Shocked - when she realized what she had just done - she opened her mouth to warn others... then raised her head, to only realize - with eyes even wider and bigger than usual - that she is standing right in the center of the impact of already falling container...

And what is even worse... the person she swore to protect with her life... Princess Shallan has noticed the falling container much too late, cleaning her eyes from still falling tears... now her leg entangled in the high grass next to her and is also unable to move... loosing her last hopes and scolding herself for repressing the survival instinct... she starts to experience the world to move in slow motion... first completely still, but then - against all odds - starting to change with each blink of her eyes...

First she notice Brother Bartholomew run with the speed of a stone thrown from the best sling in the world, towards the princess Shallan. With the precision that only monks who have trained all their lives can achieve, he places his stick between the grass and the Princess's tangled leg, performs an elegant turn around its own axis and finally breaks the blades of grass like some insignificant strings, liberating her leg completely with one smooth motion... [GS for you:) ]

When he was about to jump towards princess Shallan to cover her with his body - within second blink of Belladonna's eye - from the other side, she notice a brown shape approaching with similarly magnificent speed and turbulences of charging boar. Sadur. It seemed as he would almost feel the whole situation through the ground already. He didn't have to think. Not even force any amount of will on his body. It reacted by itself... doing exactly what has to be done. He grabs Balladona mid-run with one arm and a split seconds later: princess Shallan - with the other, throwing her on his big, muscular shoulder. Finally he corrects his momentum a few degrees to the left, directly at Bartholomew, hits him with all his accumulated force and push all three of them successfully outside the area of impact, basically throwing much lighter girls in the bushes [nat 1 for you! ]...

Where his trusty and not weaker even a bit companion Kimbek was already standing... providing the princess and her companion with smooth landing and a charming smile.

What his instincts didn't calculated into the whole rescue action - was that, after the throw ( when he used all the strength he got)... unfortunately he fell flat on the ground... leaving him prone... while the wooden container continued its fast movement towards the surface...

Observers closed their eyes to not experience the crashing of brave dwarf's body...

...only to open them when they heard sudden sound of metal stretched to its limits! Fallowed by loud and desperate squeak of something hit by the force of elasticity and container inner wall.

Those were the chains! Container was still attached to deck by the chains on one of its sides! And one of its corners, stopped JUST few centimeters above Sadur's head.

But no one knows how long the chains or their attachment to container will last... with container swinging dangerously just above Sadur... shaken by sudden movements of something being inside of it...

What do you do? And feel about the situation?