Ven 34, 2424 - Session 12 - Down the Rabbit Hole from Hell

We gathered at the entrance of the mine. The cold brisk wind from within brings the smell of iron and mold. The aroma of all the memories and history held inside.
We ventured forth into the unknown of this hellish hole.
No sooner had we entered did the shaft quickly narrow to a singular stone door adorned with a sigil. Unmoving and with no noticeable lock.
Z'ed took a closer look and something lashed out at her. There was a bright light and we were no longer in the mine. A terrifying woman appeared. Jawless and ominous. She screamed but without sound. We only heard it in our minds. Then as soon as it appeared the vison was gone and we found ourselves still in the mine face to face with the door.
Amani went up next and analyzed the carving and sigils on the door while Bruin searched his religious background to investigate it as well. The door remained motionless. Laslyn searched the area and found some crumbled pieces of the sigils and tried to piece them back together. I took a shot at taking a closer look at the door and had a brain fart. While helping put more pieces together I was reading the names carved into the door. I fumbled for words and could only think of Z'eds name. The sigil flared up and raked my mind. My normally quick mind and intelligence left me and I felt like I was having a hangover of the mind. The group looked at me with new found suspicion like I did it on purpose. Why did I say Z'ed's name?! Bruin took another look and said another name. The correct name. The door slid back and opened up into darker darkness. On the other side laying near the door were the remains of some unlucky few who must have been locked in. On their possessions we found few interesting bibs and bobs. A nice elixir that might help if we ever need a change of face. A striking Rune that Laslyn could probably use to make her smashiness even smashier. Lastly a bottle of some very sticky purple coating. That stuff was sticky enough I bet it could slow down the wind itself.
The further down we travel the colder and muskier it gets. The area is full of the odor of oxidized iron or could it be the smell of old dried blood? A lone satchel catches the eye of Z'ed. Inside she found a weathered journal. Klackers sensed some lingering magic in the area. The cover of the book pulsed in Z'ed's hands. After some hesitation she held it away from herself and slowly opened its pages gingerly. After not blowing up in her face she started to read it. The words rearranging itself as she read. In the back of the book her own name appeared. "Z'ed" "You wore it well". She slammed the book shut at that sight. She tried to hand it to Amani. The two huddled around it to investigate. As Amani tried to read it the words shifted for her as well and the back now read her name with the same quote.
As they read on Bruin and Klackers got their nose in there and added their thoughts to what they saw. The pages cleaned themselves up and revealed it was not just a simple journal but more of a confession of the decent into madness of the author.

"We have hollowed three successfully. The fourth resists—Maris Tredd. Vessel instability detected. Spiral resonance is incomplete. I feel her thoughts in my mouth.”
“Kaelor does not speak, but he waits. Not like a god. Like a memory."
"I hope this is the last time I write this.”
A memory that hunts backward.”
“I do not know who I am anymore. If I wore me better than they do."

They each still see only their own name on the page.
With that we cautiously carried on, our nerves shot to hell.
The deeper we got the more rusted, decayed, and time ravaged things around us became. The tunnel narrowed then opened up like a tear in the cavern. The iron smell from before was strong and pungent. But we found out it wasn't iron after all it was indeed blood. Inside the area several suits of skin were stretched out. The uneasy feeling spread across all of us, this place doesn't want to kill us. It wants to wear us . . .
I am not ashamed to admit I lost my last nerve. That sight shook me to my very core.
Bruin approached a ritual slab in the middle of the room putting her ear to it as if she heard it speaking to her.
I felt like a failure to the group letting them down. They were trying to figure out what this place was and the only thing I could muster was to cower in the corner of the room like a scared child. Pull yourself together Flint!!!
I swear I could hear that thing saying my name.
The shadows closed in around Amani making it unnaturally darker. Whatever this was, was trying to snuff out our sanity like a delicate candle flame. The tension in the air snapped as Bruin spoke a name she read on the slab. The room became as quit as death itself. The heavy atmosphere lifted as the still silence was only broken by a voice that spoke out.
“The vessel must know itself to resist.”
In the end it was our own names and self identities that saved us from this evil. Remembering who we were and the memories of ourselves we held. To think we almost succumbed to the madness ourselves and wound up as more skin husks for Kaelor.
I finally gathered myself together as the group started to soldier on further down the cave. The mine started to change. Every step felt like we were going deeper into a nightmare. It felt like we were walking in circles. Bruin lead the way navigating the labyrinthian turns and forks in the tunnels. Klackers almost got himself lost in the shifting paths and darkness. After what seemed like a lifetime the floor evened out and the mine stopped shifting. A discarded satchel lay in front of us. Someone else made it this far but doesn't look like they ever got out. Amani tossed the bag to Klackers who peered inside with some reluctance. It's contents; some gold, an elixir, and an Occult Pendant which Amani claimed. The corridor, now still, continued down for another 10 minutes or so. The shifting had stopped but the unease remained. The air grew humid and thicker.
Below us something stired.
Something old and left behind.
Waiting for us. . .