The Quest for Clarence

If it’s going to happen at all, it has to be soon.
One alter. One vote. Life or death. First to five wins.
The problem, of course… we’re still missing one. Clarence is gone. This is a problem. Should the vote end, then one way or another we’ll have to live with it. But if it’s a tie… we have to find him.
Our life depends on it.
For the first time, well, ever, the Nine are trying to work together.

“Where did this table come from?” muttered Lank. Seven of the Nine sat around the round wooden table set on a plateau on the north-east face of the blue mountain. Even the haich was there, squatting awkwardly on the ground. The others were respectful yet wary, trying not to look directly at it. Wraith, understandably, had hidden in her cave and refused to come out.
“Okay,” began Styx, “what do we know? He’s in the Palace, that’s for certain. What sorts of things are we expecting to find in there?”
“A ghost wall. Frightening imagery and illusions.”
“Monsters, shadows and darkness.”
“The worst things we can imagine.”
“A green lumpy thing with claws, chained to a wall.”
“Some kind of toxic spike trap, most likely.”
“Rats. There’s always rats. Well, not always.”
“All around bad stuff. Okay. But it’s from our subconscious,” Styx insisted, “so whatever it is, we can work our way around it.”
“And supposing we can’t?” Lank looked up. “Even the gate threw IMPACT away, and if it can frighten him it can easily scare off all of us.” IMPACT sniffed and looked proud yet displeased.
“But we’re all together this time,” argued Whisk. “It can’t get us all. We can help each other.”
“We will overcome,” stated Skeleton. “Clarence [must] be [saved].”
“Why?” Lank glared. “We should finish the vote now and find him if needed. If in the end we die, it’s not going to matter much anyway.”
“Clarence,” said Skeleton fiercely, “Must Be Saved.” Lank backed down.
Prophet jumped up. “We must open the Big Blue Box.” Most burst out laughing. The Big Blue Box was (and is) a box, about eight feet tall, and blue. Found amongst the rocks to the northeast, it has never been opened. Presumably there is something inside.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” chuckled Styx. “No one knows what’s in the Big Blue Box.”
“It may be a powerful weapon,” muttered Prophet, sitting back down.
“Yeah,” countered Lank, “or it may be yet another monster.”
“Or it may be a memory,” concluded Skeleton. “In any case, it is not what we need right now.”
“So,” said Styx, “do we march? If we procrastinate forever we’ll never find him. Combined, we’ve been able to do so much. We can work out a way in. If it’s a matter of strength it shouldn’t be too bad, providing…” Everyone tried not to look at the haich. It was staring grumpily at the table, apparently ignoring the proceedings. “So come on. He’s depending on us. We need him. We can do this. Are we in?”
Lank stood. “When do we leave?” This change in attitude surprised no one. Whisk nodded slowly, looking scared but determined. IMPACT slammed his fist down on the table and nodded decisively. Prophet only sighed. Skeleton and the haich did not move at first. The smaller Guardian placed his hand on the beast’s arm. Suddenly the claw resting on the table clenched into a fist and the wolflike face took on a look of such passion and intensity that those across the table stepped back.
“It’s decided.” Styx smiled grimly. “Together, we march.”

Notes: I wonder if a normal impulse would be to open the box? I know I wouldn’t.