#baronyofthesilverwolf

She ponders "Tremors? I wonder if the animals have noticed anything? THey're often more astute about that" She tries to think if the kennels have been extra lively

She does not, but... she was in a pity party, and then off down in Catawampus county recently.

A blush at the thought of how she got caught in the pity party

"I'll ask Briar and Dee about it" She conclues aloud

"They have been mild." David remarks, "Though they seem to be getting stronger. I would not be surprised if you notice them soon."

Then, a curious glance towards Thistle. "Perhaps your Neverlander friends were unjustly accused."

Citrine gives a beleaguered CHIME!

"It... could have been a tremor."

"The idjits usually don't break THAT much stuff."

"That's definitely not good" Gladiola frowns "if it's knocking stuff loose. " She goes to check the china on display to see if it's out of place or order

"Does look a bit out of place" She admits returning

David watches Gladiola with a thoughtful expression. “If even small tremors are displacing items here, it might indicate something more significant happening underground.” He turns back to Thistle, his expression calm but serious. “We should investigate the quarry soon, before these disturbances grow worse."

She rubs her hands together. "Sure. I'm down."

"Thistle knows her sciences as well as her art," Gladiola states "One other thing to check here but I'll have to do it later"

"I mean, might not hurt to drag Art along..."

"Oh sure" Amused glance there

"What?"

"He's gotten lots of training in soothsay and all that drek..."

"So he does" She concedes, then looks to David "he's a good guy, and is VERY bright. "

"Though I do not like to be hasty, I feel unease in these shiftings in the Earth. If possible, I would like to go to this quarry now." David says. "Perhaps your Art may be apprised of what we find?"

She bobs her head. "Yeah, we can check in later."

David stands tall, a calm determination settling over him. “I am not familiar with this quarry. I believe it may have been mined during my slumber. If you please, lead the way.” Ready to follow.

"I still have my gear ready" Gwen says, and prepares to follow

"Wait, do I need to pack you a lunch?" Marigold fusses!

"I don't need a lunch. Don't think I can carry two giant rocks on my bike, though."

"Then we'll take my car" Gwen suggests "And it's okay, mom. "

David offers, "I could walk." And it seems like he would, tirelessly, day and night... but then he nods. "I would like to ride in your car. It is a new experience. I do not normally go at such speeds."

Soon they are off!

... (description incoming)

As Gwen's car pulls up to the quarry, the scene that unfolds before them is a mix of desolation and signs of recent activity.

The quarry, long out of service, bears the marks of abandonment. Limestone walls rise high around the excavation site, their pale surfaces etched with the scars of past work. The deep pit, once a bustling site, now feels forgotten, with weeds and hardy shrubs creeping along the edges, reclaiming what was once stripped away.

Yet despite its abandoned appearance, there are signs that the quarry hasn’t been entirely forgotten! The ground is littered with evidence of recent gatherings—discarded bottles, broken glass, and remnants of old bonfires. The air carries a faint, lingering scent of smoke and alcohol, and the faint echoes of past revelry seem to hang in the stillness, a touch of glamour that belies the abandoned scene.

In the center of the pit, a large, stagnant pool of water glimmers faintly under the sun. The area around the pool is marked by tire tracks and the footprints of countless partygoers.

An old rusted crane stands like a sentinel, its once-mighty arm now drooping and weathered by time. Nearby, dilapidated structures—likely old equipment sheds or worker outposts—dot the landscape, some of them covered with layers of faded and fresher grafitti. The windows of these structures are shattered, and the doors hang loosely on their hinges, swaying slightly in the breeze.

Gwen turns off the car, and steps out to see

"This looks so weird by daylight..."

"Yeah, like it's...tired"

David presses his hand against the quarry wall, closing his eyes briefly as he attunes himself to the stone. It is several long moments before he speaks. Minutes pass, in fact, giving them time to look around.

"I can feel the remnants of what this place used to be. Echoes of tools striking stone. Vibrations of the earth as it was hewn apart... and the quiet stillness left behind. It is not just tired, but..." He pauses another long moment, looking for words.

“This place… it feels as though it’s holding its breath,” he says, turning to Thistle and Gwen. “The earth here is weary, yes, but there’s more to it. It’s as if the stone itself is waiting, like it has been disturbed but hasn’t yet decided how to respond."

"Can we placate the spirits here, David? " Realizing how 'Indian' that sounds, but it might be the right approach

Thistle, meanwhile, squints.

David keeps his hand on the rough stone wall, his expression thoughtful as he considers Gwen’s question. “There are no spirits here, not in the way you might think. But the stone does remember. It holds the impressions of what has happened, and it resonates with the disturbances. Placating it might not be the right word, but… understanding it, perhaps. Respecting it."

He slowly draws his hand back from the wall. “The earth is ancient and patient, but even it has limits. If we are to proceed, we should do so with care. I feel that there’s something deeper here, waiting to be uncovered."

Thistle... SQUINTS!

Her calloused hands trace over the cut stone, finding the marks of old tools, and her fae senses pick out traces of glamour - kenning.

Gwen nods "Fair." And she too kens

Chime! Citrine bobs and bounces, oh so helpful.

As Thistle traces over the stone, she begins to notice subtle markings and patterns related to the old tools used here... as well as residual traces of glamour? It's faint, enough so that it never previously stood out if either she or Gwen attended events here - nothing that was directly evident over the energy of the parties held here, generally late at night, and often with Satyr accompaniment.

But now that they look, they can feel it. Old traces of glamour, like faint echoes.

Citrine, perched on Thistle’s shoulder, chimes with interest. Then, she zips over to a boulder - just another pile of rock amidst countless - but she bobs around it with interest.

"This is older than ... than I thought isn't it?" Gladiola asks

"You smell something, you goose?" She follows the Never.

"Like ants findin' the starburst you forgot in your desk, I swear..."

David has not followed, he moves more slowly and seems to be communing with the stone, or perhaps just paying his respects.

At first look, there is nothing special - it takes a closer examination - and brushing away of dirt and moss that has accumulated, caking into what seems to be... carvings! Sigils, not just a random pattern.

((Gwen and Thistle, please each give me a perc + investigation , if you have it, else you may choose Kenning but may have different results))

/roll 4 6

Thistle makes out tool marks that show that the stone was clearly worked in the past, but in subtle ways that are not immediately visible. It may have taken a crafty hand to accomplish this. Once they see where to look, illuminated by Citrine's wavering light, both see that the boulder is etched with faint, intricate sigils and symbols that are barely visible, worn and incomplete.

Gwen notices a mark that appears to be some sort of personal seal, or emblem? It was almost completely occluded by dirt and weathering. It was once intricate - but now barely legible - a hammer, with a thorned rose. She does not recognize the sigil...

"I think this is some kind of writing..."

She snaps a picture with her phone, and begins fiddling with the contrast.

"OH" Better idea, she takes off her backpack and rummages. A wax pastel and a torn sheet from her sketchbook later, to take a rubbing.

"Hey... look at this... a rubbing.. ah, you noticed the seal?"

Thistle finds that the picture doesn't focus right... there is a chimerical element to this! But, the rubbing works just fine.