The Skysail Treasure Co.

Jade stared at the three doors in front of her, thinking she caught a quick glance from Sephara. Perhaps she was mistaken, but it felt like she was worried about her. While they had been walking Sephara had fallen back to keep even strides with her and Amateira, asking how she felt.

"Well I'm a bit tired," Jade had admitted, "but it's probably the lack of fresh air down here. I think it's making my head spin." She had laughted a bit, trying not to come off as whiny. She had glanced sideways at the first mate when she had begun to ask leading questions.

"I've felt worse," she tried to convince Sephara. "I think I just want to get out of here is all..."

The two women had said nothing more about it once they had reached the semi-circular chamber, but Jade kept feeling Sephara's eyes on her, even if the first mate never looked directly at her. Was she worried that Jade wouldn't cope down here? Maybe she thought it had been better if Jade had stayed on the ship instead of being a burden to them down here. She knew well enough that she was no fighter, and was probably more in the way than being of any help. The first mate on the other hand was both strong and skilled. Fearless even. She looked down at her hands. Hands of a killer with dust- and bloodfilled scratches. How different they looked from the hands of a healer. She kept staring at them and without noticing she followed suit as Sephara sat down. Jade sat down next to her. She wasn't even aware of those around her until she felt a gentle nudge on her shoulder. The first mate held out a waterskin to her.

"Thanks," she said, taking a couple of gulps before handing it over to Kaltor. Jasper had already vanished through one of the doors, and so she told the others.

First he had walked through the first door, but suddenly he walked in behind them from the hallway they had just entered the chamber from. She spun around by the sound of him, grabbing her sword that lay on the ground in front of her.

"Where did you come from?" she asked as she regocnised Jasper, but ignoring her he simply picked another door. The others looked at her with questions in their eyes and she quickly told them what had happened.

A minute or so later he was back, walking in from the hallway once again, and without saying a word to her he tried the right door. And so it continued, with a couple of minutes before each cycle. He walked back and tried another door. After a while she lost count and each cycle seemed to span longer.

"I'm not sure what he's doing," she told the others, "but he seems to be going through the middle door now. Maybe it's some kind of labyrinth, of some sorts."

He couldn't help but chuckle at the pilots comments, she had obviously caught his awkwardness. He paused in reflection, it was good to be able to keep such a light mood during a dark time. Without the distraction the mind could focus upon its increasingly likely doom. With clouded thoughts they didn't stand any chance, however he knew in his own mind this was not where his story would end. Not by far.

He glanced around the bathing chamber. The only passage out was the stairs they had come in. It was possible from the size of the bath that this place was for someone of importance. Which only stood to reason that the stairs would lead to somewhere of importance, somewhere with treasure perhaps. And if there was treasure there was good chance that some if not all the crew would be there was well. Not to mention it was of course the only path available to them. A shiver ran through his left arm as he bumped his blade against the wall. He grimaced slightly the bead of sweat running down his cheek. "When you ladies are ready we should head up the stairs, I will lead."

"No."

He raised his eyebrow at the simple word from his sister. She eyed him with a cool demenor her lips turning to a lazy frown. He had seen that look from her before. He opened his mouth to say something but she spook confidence that she rarely exhibited enforced her words. "I think its best if you are going to be stubborn about your hand that you stay in the back. Archamae can lead with Cyradis and I following. You can bring up the rear," she offered a lazy smile. "If you can keep your eyes on task."

He bit his lip. Damn women...

She closed the distance reaching up on her tip toes. "I know you are trying to be strong for me but I know a broken bone when I see it. You have a fever and if you so much as shuffle your feet I will heal you without your consent. You have carried my weight for so long allow me to carry burden for just a little while." She brushed her lips against his cheek and he could feel a slight cooling sensation run down his spine as she offered the barest of healing to him. "Besides I will walk in the back and you will not let any harm come to me so you will stay behind me and offer your protection where it is most beneficial."

He licked his lips and offered a chuckle and a nod at Cyradis. "All your fault you know. Girl didn't have a back bone before you came about..."

"Ah but you know you like it." Cailey giggled she cast her fingers out and chenkari spun rappidly about offering light to see through the tunnels. The orbs hovered just above them with one holding place ten feet in front and back of the group to offer some light in the distance.

"Then by all means, ladies first." Drice offered an awkward bow wondering just where the shy terrified little girl he had grown accustomed to had gone...

...

Tarra pulled her arm back too quickly for it not to be noticed. This was the second time he’d seen those markings running up her arm. They were like no tattoos he had ever seen, and there was a feint glow coming off the lines, as if they had been burned into her arm. Every culture had its own customs, but he couldn’t recall ever seeing anything like this before in his travels. He filed it away in the back of his mind. There was definitely more to this overly adventurous librarian than first glance suggested.

Moving around to where she was pointing he took a moment to size her up. Even in the low light Gabe could see she had some striking features. Shimmering blue eyes, long blonde hair, and a shapely figure all testified to her beauty. And although hunched over, she stood slightly taller than most women. There was an allure to her that, if she’d chosen a different path in life, probably would have commanded a high price. As it was she was here, inside an old tomb, by herself, to research and explore, wearing pistols round her waste, and although he appreciated her fine taste in weapons, it didn’t quite add up.

Gabe’s eyes followed the arrow down the globe. A variety of symbols flowed down to the bottom, but none of it made any sense to him. He scratched his head as he stood up straight.

“Well, you said you recognized a few symbols?”

“A few,” she turned her head towards him.

“Why don’t you give it a go?” Her eyebrows lifted high enough to hit the roof of the chamber. After a few moments she just shrugged and turned back to the puzzle. Gently with her fingers clasped around it, she began manipulating the rows of the sphere until eight different symbols were aligned in a column where the arrow pointed. They stood waiting for something, anything to happen. When it didn’t, she tried pressing into the sphere to see if there might be a button, but after awhile she gave up.

“Perhaps a more logical approach is needed,” she chided.

The Captain covered his eyes with one hand and rubbed his temples with his thumb and forefinger. It wasn’t but a few moments when he had an idea, “Eight,” he said hesitantly.

Garin and Tarra first turned to each other, their fixed their puzzled expressions on Gabe, “There’s eight rows, so eight symbols. Shandalaar and the number eight. The Spider’s Way,” they continued to wear blank expressions, “Right, you guys weren’t here for all that.”

After explaining his theory and the legend of Shandalaar they returned to analyzing the puzzle, “But does that make sense? We are here for the book, but I don’t know if Ptolemy, or the builders even, would have put symbols tying back to Shandalaar.”

Gabe once again studied the engravings on the globe, but didn’t recognize anything that would relate to Shandalaar. “Tarra, can you translate the symbols you know.”

“Sure.” After listing off about 15 words, nothing connected to Shandalaar. There were still at least 49 more symbols, but he didn’t think it was the answer they needed.

“Nothing fits to Shandalaar. It must be something else.”

“I have it!” Garin exclaimed from across the room. “What’s the purpose of a tomb?”

This time it was Tarra and Gabe’s turn to exchange confused looks.

Garin was too excited to wait, “A tomb is built to honor the entombed. And where are we?”

“In the tomb,” Gabe replied unsure.

“In the Hall of Feats, in the tomb.” This time Garin let his words sink in and after a few seconds their eyes grew large and happy.

“You think the symbols relate to Ptolemy’s feats somehow,” Tarra voiced what everyone was thinking.

“It makes sense doesn’t it? You said you recognized a few of the symbols. It could be you saw them in passing on the walls or in the murals as we walked.”

“Clever Garin, very clever,” Gabe was impressed.

“Don’t celebrate just yet, we still have to figure out which eight and in what order,” he reminded them. A communal sigh resonated throughout the room. There was much more work ahead.

OOC: SoHee, I got nothing for us =P

...

Kyra

Kyra withdrew slightly as Arlen asked about her home. She wasn't quite frowning, but her head was lowered as she thought about the past. She didn't often talk about what happened back then, nor did anyone particularly ask of it. Kyra lifted her head and gave Arlen a small smile.

"Not anymore," she said with just a touch of sadness, "on both counts." Kyra sighed and shook her head, "I was only a child. You were lucky to at least be able to fight for your people. Our only defense was with the local priestesses, but three clerics - even trained swordsmen - can only last so long against a dozen bandits. I ran away when things got bad and hid in a granary. When I had the courage to come out, the village was burned and the people... well... there were few survivors." Kyra's hand dipped into the pouch on her waist and clutched the icon within.

"A few days later, some pilgrims came through what was left of the village and took me back to the nearest shrine. After some time among the priests there, I decided to dedicate my life to helping people and keeping what happened to my family from happening to anyone else. I'll not be helpless again, and evil will not prevail in my presence."

Kyra released the icon as the light from Arlen's torch showed a dead end to the hallway. But it wasn't stone which ended the passage, but a solid wooden wall. There was no handle or apparent switch. Kyra placed her hand on the peculiar wall and pushed. The old wood creaked and a shower of dust fell from around the edges. She motioned for Arlen to help her push and together they moved the hinged wall along the stone floor. As soon as it stood open, Kyra could feel the corruption of dark magic like a gust against her body. She recoiled visibly and reflexively covered her mouth in the corner of her arm. After a short moment, she drew her scimitar and fought off the feeling.

"It's here," she said to Arlen, her voice low and cautious.


Cyradis

Cyradis followed Archamae through the vast trove more on habit than willing participation. The wealth of knowledge in this place was simply astounding. She could feel currents of magic pouring from the place like a geyser. It flowed from some of the books and artifacts, but most heavily from somewhere deeper in. As they moved through the chamber, it became more apparent this was no simple collection or tribute. The room was unlike any of the other others and was perfectly preserved. The books were in excellent condition and suffered from not a single breath of decay. That fact alone, knowing of the undead presence, was both confounding and amazing.

The chamber was multi leveled and sloped downwards. Cyradis often felt the impulse to explore the numerous side passages branching from the main room, but contained her urges as she continually reminded herself that there was very likely a considerably evil presence here somewhere which gave life to the dead. The lower they went, however, the more obvious it became that the altar awaiting them at the bottom level was the only possible source. After all, upon the altar was the unfaded body of a general who should have been dead for decades.

Cyradis gasped at the sight of him, "Archamae... how old did you say this tomb was? He looks like he's asleep..."

Well well, been a few years since I've been on the forums...used to go by Doc Holiday...I recognize Geco and Rensha and of course Phoenix.

Room for one more? Ive talked with Arctic Phoenix of entry posts and have been reading previous posts and catching up on the story.

Perhaps room as a combat officer?

----------------------------

[EDIT]

After discussing it over with Arctic Phoenix, I've decided to make a few changes to my character, namely his profession, so that none of the future plot lines will be conflicted.

------------------------------

Name: Astaroth Steiner
Gender: Male
Age: 30
Race: Human
Profession: Dominion Shock Trooper/Special Operations

Description: A monster of a man, wearing magicite infused black armor, and brandishing a long spear and other small weaponry, he stands at 6'5. His muscular physique make him a very intimidating and imposing figure. He keeps his jet black hair closely cropped and his striking blue eyes can cut someone to their core.

History: Once a proud captain commanding a unit of shock troopers, he is now a wanderer and hired killer. Astaroth, or Steiner as he is used to, lives for drinking and has a keen eye for trinkets and other small treasures. His troubling past has left him not taking any sides, but rather the highest bidder with an exceptional amount of danger.

Personality: Years of brutal training and strains of combat have left Astaroth a reserved man. He is calm and collected in nearly any situation and is a seasoned veteran of combat and is unwavering and unmerciful in battle.

OOC: Welcome back Doc. ;) Took me by surprise! we need to catch up sometime. You have Google Wave? My email is jollyren at gmail.com

on another note. sorry for my absence. we've had weeklong conferencing at the hotel here, and i'm the old man now. kinda sucks to be here the longest of all f&b staff, even all my managers! heh. exciting day. plate glass window of ginormous proportions crashed down during a conference as something from outside (really windy day today) hit it. people were running from the window pretty quick, lol. anyway. i have a couple more days, but it's settled. I worked for 36 of 48 hours, so i'm kinda tired. I snowboarded for the rest of it.

anyway. i'll try to get a post up soon. not much of an idea what i'm going to do though.

Astaroth Steiner

Sitting on a small ledge above observing the pristine body of the late general, Steiner recollected his thoughts. It all began joining the crew in Coral, where he boarded the Requiem Dawn and claimed Cabin #13 as his own. He was very quiet and reserved but doing the labor of nearly three men. When things were hectic, he was the only man capable of holding the sails rigid, with his brute strength. He remained closed off from the group after crash landing on the island and escaping to Gebron.

It all led to here, where after fighting the undead, he was separated from his companions, looking for a mysterious book. He was cut off, in a small tunnel no more than four feet high and three feet across for hundreds of meters, and no clue to where it went. His pole arm in front of him, Astaroth remained calm, he always did. The tunnel led to variety of small chambers, one including a pool of clean water with which to fill his water blivot, and enough room to stretch out. The seemingly endless tunnels continued forever, and some considerable time later, they finally ended, in the very room with the General Ptolmey.

He ran his fingers across his armor. The grooves and nicks reminded him of all the combat he had seen in his previous years as a Dominion shock trooper. The armor covered nearly every part of his body, however, thanks to the magicite infused in it, greatly reduced the weight and allowed his movements more fluid and precise, an advantage most foes would overlook. Black was the color that special operations bore in the dominion armor, to be more intimidating and distinguish themselves from the rest of the dominion forces. His long black cloak was torn around the edges and even acquired a few blood stains, though not very noticeable. His helmet covered the sides back and top of his head, but allowed for full peripheral vision and had eagle wings cascading down the sides as decoration. Overall his armor had lacked the luster of its previous form, instead showing the scars of war and age. It had been nearly 10 years since he had first acquired it. His spear infused with magicite allowed for lighter form, deadly precision, and near indestructibility, another advantage he had over his enemies.

Astaroth hailed from the capital city of Dominia, Caildonia, and joined the Army at an early age. Trained as regular infantry and proving himself early, upper command quickly realized and exploited his talents for combat. They trained him as a shock trooper, in the newly created special operations branch, to act as a small spearhead to wreak havoc from the inside out, before the larger invasion force would arrive. Excelling in his new role, he quickly climbed the ranks, field commissioning as an officer, later being promoted to the rank of captain and controlling nearly 50 men of this experimental unit. His first assignment as a small company commander was the initial invasion of Kell...and that's where it all began...

Shaking his head slightly, Astaroth wiped sweat from his brow, and returned his helmet on his head. He noticed a small group of four, looked like the pilot and mage, with two others were advancing in the tomb.

"A mage" Steiner thought, "Hmph," he grunted out loud. He jumped the 10 feet or so to the ground with a loud clang, his steel boots crushing the floor beneath him.

"What do you plan to do now, pilot?" Steiner asked aloud. His reserved attitude had names evading his mind. Perhaps he should get to know his company better, then again, what good would it do?

...

Astaroth Steiner

"It's good to see you alive, too, Steiner. As for the plan, I imagine we look for our quarry and get out of this hole," Archamae said.

Steiner grunted slightly in approval, after all, it was nice being around his companions after being alone for nearly a day. Astaroth begin to eyeball all the mass of wealth stored around him in the General's tomb.

He began to walk around to the surrounding shelves, some containing books, others treasure. Gems, coins and and other jewelry were of no interest to him, and most would think he was crazy for it. However, upon further inspection of one particular case he came across a simple, plain carving of a small wooden horse. Carefully, he slowly picked up the trinket with his steel gloved hand, making the carving seem even smaller in his monstrous palm.

"Horses...her favorite..." Steiner thought to himself.

--------------------------------------------------------------

The four wooden chariots were greeted in the small magical community of Kalm with few wandering eyes and little interaction. Steiner's small group of 9 men were posing as simple merchants and granted entrance to set up their "shops" the following morning. The evening sky was a a brilliant array of reds, oranges and pinks as the sun was setting in the horizon. The town of Kalm was but a small mining community set in the foothills near the Kell and Dominion Empire's border. This was the first of many targets for the impending attack upon Kell from Dominia. The town had a prospering mine, a small school for training future mages and a small barracks for housing the soldiers, and all were to be destroyed before the sun rose.

The plan of action was simple. In the middle of the night, he and his men would unload their carriages, which contained their armor, weapons, and magical explosive cylinders, dubbed "magitek cylinders". With the cover of darkness, they would split into three groups and destroy the prime targets, and slay as many military targets as possible and escape on horses from the local stable, which was Aryana's job. Steiner made sure she was out of harm's way as much as possible, even if she resented it. She was just too important to him.

Around the turn of midnight and after the men had properly equipped themselves under the cover of darkness, Captain Steiner signaled to the two squad leaders, Sergeants Lentz and Quinones to move their small squads of 3 each to their targets. Sgt Lentz and his men were to take out the mine, Sgt Q the barracks, and Cpt Steiner and the remaining shock troopers were to set fire and prevent any mages escaping the school house. It would be a brutal mission as there would no doubt be women and children to die, however these were his orders and they would be fulfilled.

After scoping the area, a few sentries were posted in a tower close to the school house. "Take them out," Steiner whispered to his two archers. With deadly precision to wooden shafts streaked across the chilly night air, striking the two sentries, one in the throat, the other clean in the chest, killing them almost instantly.
"Good," Steiner thought to himself as they closed on the school house doors, "Silent and clean."

Signaling the two others to bar the door around the back, Steiner thrust a steel crowbar through the door handles, thus preventing escape.
"Torch it," Steiner grunted. Without another word, two troopers chucked magitek cylinders through the bottom floor windows, quickly followed by a deafening explosion and roaring flames. There was no being silent now.

"NO ONE ESCAPES!" Astaroth screamed, tightening his grip on his spear. Screams were soon heard in the school house, ringing in Steiner's ears...it didn't sound like adults. Two more explosions rocked the night air, no doubt the mine and barracks.

Commands were being shouted to soldiers posted in other sentry towers, and six men were closing their distance to Steiner. His mind blocked the screams of the innocents and his train of thought quickly changed to protecting Aryana, and getting his men out of the town alive.

------------------------------------------------------------

Replacing the wooden carving, Steiner reached in his rear bag attached to his back plate of his armor retrieving a rather large flask containing a mixture of alcohols. The taste was of no concern, more of the effects it had on calming his nerves, as he took a long draw from it. He returned it to his pouch which also contained his water, smoked jerky and a small portion of bread and normally his Magitek goggles.

Astaroth cursed himself a thousand times for leaving them on board the Dawn. The Magitek goggles were a recent invention, allowing the wearer to see in the dark, but did not work in total black out conditions. They required a small light source, for instance if someone was carrying a torch that lit up a small area, the goggles would use that light and project the images through the lenses much further. The lenses were black, bound in leather and not usable during the day light hours as they would send blinding images into ones retinas. They were infused with magicite and designed for shock troopers for night time attacks.

Astaroth's gaze turned to the mage, Cyradis once more. His memories of the incident aboard the Dawn where she nearly decimated the ship and its crew learning of Archamae's previous actions against Kell almost worried him what she might do if she learned Steiner's troubling past...almost.

"Well Archamae," Steiner began in his usual undertone "May I suggest we start searching for this book and rid ourselves of this damned tomb."

OOC: Sorry accidentally posted twice, this is me deleting it =p

OOC: In advance, sorry for the unauthorized PRPs (especially Shari), but i want this to move along.

------------------

ARLEN

Kyra recoiled after the wooden wall swung open with relative ease. "It's here!" she hissed. Indeed, the creepy sort of mood exuding from the hallway was unlike the rest of the tomb, which was unsettling enough by itself.

"If it's here, then there's a good chance my friends are not far behind. We were directed here by the paths, I'm certain," Arlen sighed. His fatigued and slouched back straightened while he took the first steps in, torch held high. His sword was at the ready, along with Kyra's. It didn't take but a few minutes of cautious walking to break from the plain hallway, caked in dust and spider web, into an immaculate collection of riches and books. His eyes scanned along some of the titles and noticed a plethora of languages and subjects, ranging from mercantile to magical, agriculture to warfare. There was even a series of books on engineering and architecture. The physical wealth only took a moment's glance to disregard. The tomes themselves were what his eyes hung onto and longed for. Knowledge.

Kyra bumped into him as they walked the hall shoulder to shoulder and he snapped out of his enchantment. Blinking a few times, he returned to the present and took more determined steps, not directing his eyes anywhere but on the footpath. The riches seemed to illuminate the halls with the light of the torch rebounding off of them. Gold coins spilled over onto the shelves out of small chests. Diamonds, rubies, sapphires and many other stones casting multicolored rays behind them.

"These items are evil," Kyra said, as if she had stood in the cold peaks of the northern alps and her lips had frozen. It was a battle, it seemed, for her to withstand the forces of this place. Arlen himself noticed nothing, aside from an increasing dull ache coursing through his body as they moved on which he attributed to fatigue and undernourishment. His small flask had run out of water long ago, and his lips were parched from the dusty dryness of the place. Much longer and he would have to do something he hoped he'd rather not resort to. After all, they still had to find their way out after likely being injured in another impending, and possibly enchanted, battle.

"If that is the case, we must keep moving onward. Even I will admit this place carries a certain doom to it," he nodded in agreement.

The hallway opened into another level of opulence, beside him a statue of a tall and armored man bearing a broad sword with the point resting on the ground between his feet. Below was the corpuscular form of the dead General. Along with him, a man that usually kept to himself, portentiously named Steiner. Arlen saw him trace something on the general's form and jump to a lower level, beneath Ptolemy's platform.

"What do you plan to do now, pilot?" he asked loudly to someone out of his view. Arlen's eyes widened a moment in realization and moved quickly to the edge of the balcony to search for Archamae. As he looked beneath and around, he finally spotted them and she addressed Steiner. It seemed that they had all gotten here only moments apart. Still no sign of Gabe or the rest of them. Amateira... Jade... I am sorry I can't protect either of you adequately...

"Ho down there, strangers!" Arlen called, waving his torch. "It looks were on the highest level. How we're going to get down, I'm not sure." The excitement of seeing his friends alive and well, even just a few of them, threw the thought of some evil spirit in this place far to the back of his mind.

"Has anyone seen Gabe and the rest?" he asked, his enthusiasm showing his his voice. "Did they make it out of the collapse alright? All I could see was dust, bones, and stones!"

"Arlen!" someone called back up, "So you didn't die on us, you old coot! What a surprise..."

-----------------------------------------

GARIN and ARLEN


"Arlen!" Garin could hear the man from somewhere above him. He'd taken a couple of necklaces onto his person, along with a few rings. Coins had filled his canteen and small satchel. Behind him Tarra looked bewildered and amazed all at the same time. "So you didn't die on us, you old coot! What a surprise..."

A second passed, and the voice called down, probably just a level up and right above him. "Garin... Well, I shouldn't be surprised you survived the collapse. You have unprecedented luck, it seems."

"Glad to see you too..." Garin retorted. "Gabe is here with me, he's a few steps behind looking, through the books for the one we came for. What a great find, eh? We can all retire with this vault! If we can find a way out of here without having to shake hands with the bones again, anyway." Garin looked down and saw a bunch of others. "Ah, hello!"

"I have someone else here with me," Arlen called down. "That Cleric we met, Kyra. She says there's a great evil here," his voice lowered. "From the looks of Ptolomy, he's probably the source of the curse. He's fully preserved while the tomb around him crumbles. How strange."

Garin shook his head and laughed, "You are just a master of pointing out the obvious, aren't you? Of course he has some enchantment on him! Undead, unnatural preservation, magically carved walls, some crazy labyrinths, weird puzzles - we just spent hours trying to figure out some puzzle thing and a staircase dropped down over the machine when we got it, nearly crushing us. A few hundred steps and a few winding halls and then one of gold and jewels and here we are, center of a cursed tomb... how wonderful! Let's have a picnic!"

"Silence!" Kyra said, over their bickering. "We must break the curse, or soon the undead will fill not just this tomb, but everything around it. The evil will spread ever outward if we don't."

"I tend to agree," Arlen followed. "In this case," he quickly amended. "Any ideas on what to expect, Kyra?"

...

Tarra let out a deep breath of relief as they finally figured out the the mechanism on the wall of the chamber. It had taken them hours to do so, and only after several failed attempts. She could not help but notice that the three of them had made a good team. They had all put in the effort with Gabe's tenacity, Garin's cunning, and her own intellect.

As the final feat was chosen the ceiling above them began to quake just slightly. It opened to reveal a flight of stairs that almost crushed them as it dropped down they all dodge it as a cloud of dust and dirt filled the space they were just standing in.

" What an odd place to put stairs," she coughed looking up at the stairs. "Are you guys alright?"

When every one was back on their feet, they continued the only they could, up. It wasn't long before the stairs lead them to a rather large room filled with all kinds of wonders. Tarra was beside herself with excitement. When they continued into the next area she could barely keep it all in. She had the urge to reach out and touch every thing, though she kept her fingers wrapped tightly around her pistols. Better safe than sorry.

Tarra snapped out her trance when she realized she was suddenly surrounded by more strangers. She recognized a few of them from the collapsed chamber before and few more she did have time to notice. Garin greeted an older looking man, and they instantly began to banter back and forth. She raised an eye brow at them, but quickly dismissed it.

Gabe was conversing with a tall women wearing goggles. She noticed the exchange of smiles and suddenly felt out of place and strangely not because she was trapped in a tomb. Garin and Gabe were part of a bigger group of adventures and she, she was alone. As alone in a tomb full of lost strangers as she could be. She had been thrown in so fast that she hadn't allowed herself to feel the awkwardness of it all. It was so easy to forget why she was here in the first place, her brother. She had to get out of the Tomb and on her way as soon as possible. She could not afford to let her brother's trail go cold. She needed him.

Suddenly her stomach grumbled loudly. She had forgotten that she had not eaten in quite a while. She reached into her bag and found it to be empty. She frowned. Her eyes darted to each person, would any of them have any food? She spotted Gabe over by the bookcases.

Casually she walked up beside him. " You wouldn't happen to have a little food you could spare. I ran out of food a few hours ago and I am starving. Also I suppose this would be good time as any." she paused for just a moment. " would you mind explaining to me why ALL of you are here?"

A soft moan pierced the silence, it took a moment to recognize his own voice. His eyes creaked open shutting furiously at the overwhelming bright light above him. Was this death? No...it didn't feel right. He tried to remember...his eyes opened fully blinking in confusion. He must have hit his head harder then he thought. There were two suns? The second one was smaller a larger version of the chenkari that Cailey possessed it burned brightly letting off pulses of light even as it continued to grow.

He found himself propped against a fallen a tree no noises besides his own breath even the animals had left possibly startled by glowing sun nestled high above the tree line. A brief spark as the flint lit made him aware that he was not alone. Berak sat upon the fallen tree his large size making the massive trunk seem like a natuarl seat. He puffed upon the pipe sad experienced eyes mezmoried by the sight in the sky. Drice found himself unable to speak his stomach growled and his mouth felt parched.

"Amazing isn't it. To think the goddess would bestow upon us such a marvelously splendid gift." the large man whispered. "And such a destructive curse. The fool doesn't know what he is playing with." He paused as if finally noticing Drice for the first time. "You look better then last time I saw you. That sister of yours is something special indeed."

Drice looked himself over. Of course she had healed him. That was why he was still alive. But where was he? Where was Arieko? A sickening feeling burned at the pit of his stomach. He waited knowing Berak would continue.

He tossed down a loaf of bread and a half block of cheese which Drice tore into with ravenous hunger. Berak bellowed out a deep resonating laugh. "She said you would be hungry so much so when you awoke. Pulled you back from death. Not the brink boy, you were dead." Drice nodded taking it instride then was then, now was now. He wasn't dead now thats all that mattered. "Little one exhausted herself fell asleep right next to you. To think how close you two are." he shook his head. "You have been away now for so long you have spent only a fraction of her life around her and yet..."

Pain crossed his face. "He hates that you know. Jealous or guilty I am not sure. But hate. He hates you, he hates what you represent. He resents you you remind him of your father and his betrayal."

Drice raised an eyebrow. He had worked it out before from the clues Berak had left that his father and Gavin had crossed blades but this was new. The feeling of doom grew til he couldn't stand it. "Where is she?" he whispered. "Where's Arieko Berak what's happened."

"Dead." The man spoke that word plainly but Drice could feel the hidden emotion. It was a like a damn exploded within. A tear he had not felt slivered down his cheek and his apetite wanned before disapearing altogether. Arieko....dead...he wanted to scream to let the pain go but he held his voice and allowed the old man to continue. "After the battle Gavin refused to let Cailey heal you. Well....Arieko simply lost it. She attacked Gavin. He disarmed her easily and had her executed."

It was like an unexpected punch to the stomach. He couldn't breath. He couldn't speak. He couldn't scream. No attachments. That was the law. Attachments led to emotions to conflicting sense of duty. Arieko had loved him. And because of that she was dead.

"In the confusion Cailey healed you"

Arieko had given her life for his. The Maktah followed orders only Clan chief mattered but for the first time someone had chosen him first. No...Cailey was the same....To hell with it all. To hell with Juvarians, to hell with the war. To hell with Gavin. He didn't even notice that he was stanidng that he had picked up his waiting swords.

"Its called the Juvarian Second Sun. This was Gavins plan all along to draw the empire in close and unveil this spell. I don't understand it or know much about it but anything in the viciinty with be destroyed. He's using Cailey for the spell. Something of this magnitude could kill the user..."

Drice nodded refitting his blades to his side. He searched finding and reattaching his assortment of blades. "Choices thats what we have Berak. I have made my choice what of you?"

The man stared him down. "Your father couldn't kill em and I dare say I dont see how you can. He planned on sacrificing all my boys all the Maktah in his trap. I will take them and go, perhaps I will see you agian."

Drice nodded. "Perhaps..."
______

"....Arieko...." her brother whispered for the dozenth time. He was sleep walking. His body moved but his mind was long gone to the fever. She didnt have any other choice. She wished the other healer was here. While she had some talent at healing she did not have the precision or technique of a crafted healer. Instead she made up with stubborness and over powering strength. There was a catch to that sort of healing it took a great deal of energy from both the patient and the healer. So while she could fix his broken arm it very well meant that she would be unable to do much for a while and Drice would need to sleep to recover.

She glanced around the room...well large chamber as she considered her next move. A choice was needed to be made and although Drice normally handled that duty he was in no position to do so now. A sense of heavy darkness and evil permeated the room. She had tried to do a diagnostic spell to study the enchantment on the tomb owner but Cyradis had put a stop to that. She wasn't certain why but she respected the mage to much to bother to question futily why. Instead she focused on the other things. There was treasure, books and gold. Diamonds and swords. It was a rich heist yet everything felt...tainted or dirty. She would not want to wear anything that was down here.

As more of the crew arrived Drice tried unsuccessfully to get up again with a slight push she helped him back to his seat. She wondered what nightmare he was lost within but if Arieko was apart of it then it was not a happy one. She could feel the raw emotion that was trapped within that name when he spoke it upon his lips. Love...sadness...she thought maybe she had died during the war. It was the only explanation.

Most of the group looked fit, fatigued and dirty but other then Drice most seemed to have escaped signifiant injury. And yet there was a forboding mood to this place. Something wasn't right. It was just to easy to be here not when that mage had fought to keep them away not when an unleashed undead horde had attacked them and seemingly disapeared.

She turned her focus back to her brother gently brushing her fingertips across the purple swelling of his wrist offering a slight confort. That's when she noticed to two vials attached to his belt. She remembered him talking about some of the Maktah potions that he had been trained to make. The two at his side were made of some plant. It was a rejuvination potoin. Although Drice had warned if the side effects it offered some hope.

Reaching deep within she focused Nepheli's powers channeling them within her. She focused her intentions through the prayer green light played and danced at her feet. A large glob flew in to the air exploding into thousands of green drops that feel upon the group. She could feel the cold overpowering her as the spell took effect revitalizing those exposed to the drops. She gripped Drice arm and channeled her power with a crack the bone snapped together the room twisted as her vision blurred. She gripped the vial and emptied its contents upon her lips. The substance burned. Her heart stopped before taking a large powerful beat almost as if trying to free itself from her chest. She felt flooded with energy the weariness dispiating. She grabbed the other vial and forced Drice to drink it. She waited to see what the others were up to..

JADE

"Wait!"

Jade tried to stop Jasper before he went through the middle door again. He had been circulating through the doors several times now, but now he always seemed to start with the middle one. He had just put his first foot through the door and as she called had out he had abruptly stopped. However instead of turning back to her he started to pulling his leg followed by some loud curses. Had their situation been better, and the threat of dead men appearing not hanging over her shoulders like a dark cloak she would have laughed at the sight. Instead she looked worried.

<Apparently this is a one way trip> Jasper told her, both anger and panic building up in his voice. Telling him to calm down would only anger him further.

"What then if you get through?" she asked him instead. "What if you can't get back?"

<Center, center, right, left, right> he said quickly, eager to move forward again. She repeated the words outloud, to remember but also to tell the others. <I'm not sure how long it will circle, or if it never ends, but each time I make a wrong choice I end up where we started.> He didn't say that he wasn't even sure it was the right choice that led him forward. They could only hope, but the thought had occurred to both of them Jade realised as their eyes met.

"Go," she told him, seeing the strain in his face from the torment of feeling trapped. "Center, center, right, left, right," she said again, looking at Sephara.

"Whatever it is, Jasper can't go back. Once he is through one doorway it is as if he can only move forward. The pattern is center, center, right, left, right so far," she tried to explain. "He isn't sure where it will lead, or if it will ever lead us anywhere but here, but when he chooses correctly a new set of doors will appear, or wrongly he will return here to this chamber."

She cursed herself for her poor explanation. "He might not be able to come back once he is through. There might not be a way back at all."

By now Jasper had been gone a while and they all glance at the entrance of the chamber, waiting for him to return. Jade bit nervously on one of her fingernails, a bad habit she had never been able to get rid off.

"We might need to..." she finally said but broke off into silence when Jasper strode back into the chamber.

<Center> he said before disappearing again. She followed him with her eyes and once he had walked through the middle door she turned to look at the others again.

"We should begin to think how we shall go through. Does anyone have any skills to pick a lock?" she asked, again wishing that Garin had not been parted from them.



JASPER

And left, Jasper thought as he stepped through the 7th door. To his amazement he was not returned to the start, but rather a quite slim and dark corridor. He turned back, crouching a bit to avoid his head bumping into the low ceiling, only to see a solid stone wall. Feeling the wall he could find no trigger point to open up a secret wall. Neither could he simply walk through the wall.

Damned Magic! he cursed to himself. He knew that there had been a chance for this to happen and yet he had thought it best to trod along, trying to find the end of what had seemed like and endless circle of doors, instead of staying behind with Jade. He slammed a fist against the wall. He felt every inch, from the rocky ceiling to the hard cold ground. Nothing. There were simply no way back. Should he wait, he wondered and struggled a bit to come to a decision. The decision however was made for him as he saw a soft green light at the end of the tunnel. The light was seemed far away and it was only the darkness around him that made it even possibly for him to see it. He started to walk slowly towards the light. At some parts of the tunnel he could almost walk straight and at other passages he had to crawl on all four. It seemed like an erratic carved out tunnel, cold stone surrounding him from head to toe.

It was on all four he more peeked than walked out from the hole in the wall, somewhere along the lower middle in the large multi-leveled chamber.

Down below (if I'm not mistaken) he saw many of their lost comrades.

<Ohoy!> he bellowed down to them, but as none of them payed him any attention he reminded himself of how foolish he was. He edged out a bit more onto what seemed to be a small cliff, with lack of better words to describe it. It was probably no more than 3 meters down to the ground floor.

"Hey there," he said, showing a flicker or two of himself as he saw at least a couple of eyes turn up to his voice. So far away from Jade he didn't want to take more energy from her than necessary, unsure of how the distance between them would effect it.


OOC: Sorry, I've been totally emerged in the world of Robin Hobb....Geco, just go ahead and lead the group back to the rest...

...

Tarra was relieved to hear Gabe’s story of how they had all ended up in the Tomb. It seemed that she wasn’t the only one captivated by the Mythology of the place even if they had only been looking for a book. Tarra had heard of the book they were looking for, but like most she thought it was just a legend. She had no idea that such a discovery was in a place like this.

Tarra Shivered as she walked away from Gabe, chewing on a small piece of dried meat he had given her. It goes without saying that this was place was more than what it seemed. With every passing moment the air seemed to get heavier and heavier , almost to the point of chocking her. She could not pinpoint exactly what it was or where it was emanating from, but it was creeping her out.

Cautiously Tarra took this time to explore several of the rooms with wonder. She was amazed at the vastness of Ptolemy’s Treasures and riches. She had never seen this much riches in her entire life, and she doubted she would ever see it again. Many would take advantage of the situation, so it was no surprised to see Garin stuffing his pockets.

“Talk about a pot gold” she laughed to herself. With a heavy sigh Tarra decided to take only one thing from the mass piles. Slowly she searched through each room sorting through each bookcase for just the right thing. It was only a short time after that she found what appeared to be a tiny journal tucked behind several other books. She skimmed its pages quickly, then tucked it away in her own little pack.

Tarra then headed out to where the main group had assembled to rest, but she was one floor above the group. Casually she walked up and stood beside a very intimidating man leaning alone against a wall. He wore armor of all black and carried a very large and scary looking Lance. If memory served her right she heard the others call him Steiner.

When he glanced to look at her, Tarra could not help but notice his brilliant blue eyes. It was rare for her to meet someone who shared that in common with her. Back home only two people for a hundred miles had those striking blue eyes. She was one, her twin brother was the other. She learned at a young age that her Great Grandmother had had Blue eyes, But none of her children had. Blue eyes were cherished in her family, and thus She was considered extra special. Now to see it in a stranger, made her smile. It also made her soul ache. She missed her family. Her brother most of all.

It was then that her right arm started to hurt. She had a strange feeling like something was coming. Almost instinctively she reached to check her pistols. She only had one bullet left , and she reached into her pack to reload it. She realized she definitely did not pack enough ammo for this. She only had enough to reload this once, and then she was completely out. She cursed.

Subsequently an explosion thundered through the chamber, sending everyone to their toes. Archamae, The pilot, had fired her pistol and was now defending herself from undead. Quickly the chamber was filled with a horde of undead.

“ Not this again!” Tarra growled as undead filled the room below her. Taking her off guard Steiner hurled himself from the ledge and landed on the floor below in aid to another. Impressive was all she was able to think before she noticed a ghoul coming up behind him. Swiftly she aimed and fired her pistol. Hitting her target, the ghoul’s head exploded into a million pieces.

BOOM!

Splintered wooden shards lay fragmented around the doorway. The door rocked softly on its hinges like a baby in a cradle. Ahead was a long, dark corridor - nothing new for this place.

Sephara materialized over Kaltor's right shoulder, "Well done," she said after inspecting his work.

Kaltor beamed with arrogance, "Who needs a lock pick when you have me?"

Jade rolled her eyes at the blatant display of machismo. "Save it for another day Greycloak," Sephara silenced him. "Right. We follow the path Jasper gave us. This corridor should lead to another identical room, and so on, and so on." It had been nearly fifteen minutes since he'd last checked in, and they'd all been getting anxious. Aram had taken to biting off his finger nails, a deplorable habit that ranked somewhere between alcoholism and chit chat, and so she'd decided Jasper must have made it through on this last attempt. Nothing left to do but follow.

"Stay close together." They were the last words spoken as the group silently made their way through the labyrinth of identical rooms. The only difference, as far as she could tell, was that only the first doors had been locked. Other than that, if she hadn't known better, she would have had no way to know exactly where they were. A chill scraped across her bones at the thought of being lost in an endless maze, condemned to aimlessly wander blind. All at once the world around her felt very small and she was gasping for air.

"Are you alright?" Jade was at her side, one arm resting protectively across her shoulders. Sephara opened her mouth, but no words would come. She wanted to say something, anything, but she could barely breathe. She began to panic more. Unable to communicate the world shrunk a few more sizes, a great invisible weight was bearing down on her. Uncontrollable shakes gripped her body. This was end! With no air in her lungs she'd collapse soon and die. "Sephara just listen to me, listen to my voice." The doctor's voice was calm and slightly soothing. Just hearing it reminded the First Mate of where she was and that she wasn't alone.

"I want you to think about your homeland. Think about the people in your tribe. Your mother, your father. Think about happy childhood memories. Now try to take a deep breathe." Eyes clenched she weaved her way through her mind, to a earlier time in her life, a simpler time. And all at once the air came back. Rushing into her lungs and filling her with life. Her chest heaved stronger than the ocean tides, but it didn't matter because she could breathe. Once the trembling stopped she was able to stand up straight. A few more deep breaths and she felt relatively back to normal.

"What the hell was that?" Kaltor's gruff voice filled her with a sudden, immense embarrassment. How was she supposed to explain what they'd just witnessed.

"An allergy attack most likely. Probably from all the dust," Jade readily volunteered. "Too much inside her lungs, caused her system into overdrive, too many systems trying to work at too high a level, and so nothing works," she shot Sephara a reassuring smile and rubbed her arm.

Kaltor was eyeing the air around him with a new found suspicion, "Best we don't be lingering then." He shoved into the lead and went through the next door before anyone else could respond. "Hey this must be it!" he called out from just through the door. Everyone turned and moved towards the pirate. "It's a narrow gap, we'll have to crawl, but it has to lead out."

"Let's go then. Watch your step everyone," she managed in a barely commanding tone of voice. When no one else was looking, she shot Jade a look of thanks. She owed that woman dearly now.

-o0o-

As they entered the final resting place of Ptolemy Gabe was overwhelmed by the magnitude of it all. As if the entire way here hadn't been enough, the tomb of the great Latium General sprawled across what appeared to be three floors (it might be four, I wasn't sure) and what looked like many corridors.

"All roads lead to Rome," he mumbled in awe.

"What?" Tarra asked.

"Hmm?"

"What was that you just said?"

"Oh, all roads lead to Rome?"

"Yeah, that."

Gabe smiled and pressed his finger across the spine of the nearby books, "Just something I read from a book once."

"You wouldn't happen to have a little food you could spare? I ran out of food a few hours ago and I am starving. Also I suppose this would be good time as any." she paused for just a moment. "Would you mind explaining to me why ALL of you are here?" It was a fair enough question.

"I may have mentioned that I'm the captain of an Airship, the Requiem Dawn, and this is my crew. We're searching for a book called the Spider's Way, an old child's fable I think is tied to the legend of Shandalaar. I'm just not sure how yet. Ptolemy happens to be the proud owner of one of the eight surviving copies." He looked her right in the eyes, "And we need it."

As he stepped fully into the room for the first time his gaze drifted not to the splendor of the tomb, the many riches or artifacts that it contained, it's perfect architecture, or to its formidable occupant. Instead, he looked over the faces of his crew, relieved to see so many of them, and that, barring what appeared to be a broken arm or wrist on Drice, they were unhurt. Steiner, or the living shield, as Gabe had so fondly taken to calling him. The big man had been a tower of strength and safety standing between the Dawn and those that would do it or its crew harm.

Archamae and Cyradis stood together, a new bond radiating between them as plain as daylight. Arlen, Cailey, and even Kyra were all there. Many were still missing however. Most notably was Sephara. Where was his closest friend. He'd kill her if she'd gotten herself killed.

With most of the crew assembled they grouped together. In the midst of this nightmare they exchanged smiles, hugs, and other pleasantries, yet everyone kept their guards up. They rationed what food and water they had left, and then Gabe set them to the task they'd come here for.

"We'll have to search this entire place. In twos, go corridor by corridor, bookshelf by bookshelf, starting at the top until we find it. Help yourself to anything you'd like along the way, I don't think he needs it anymore. But keep in mind we still have to get back out of this place, and we can't afford to be encumbered trying to lug out a horde of treasure. Let's get to it people." As the groups split he kept Cyradis, Cailey, and Kyra back with him.

The two mages and the cleric were obviously unsettled by this place, even more so than they'd been when they'd first encountered the walking undead. Whatever was causing this curse, they were probably the only ones who could solve it. "I have a different task for you three," he pointed at each, "You need to figure out the source of the evil in this place. Whatever is causing those nightmares is probably here somewhere. You need to find it an neutralize it, if you can." None looked happy about their new objective, but they weren't surprised by it either. They all bore looks that said, 'What do you think we've been trying to do?'

"Right then... best of luck ladies," and he dashed off to search the book stacks with Tarra.

The monotony of going from book to book was taking its toll. He had to force himself to focus on each title, so he'd read them out loud as he went, not wanting to risk overlooking the one he searched for. A cry pierced his veil of concentration, and he turned around in time to see Arch deftly tumbling away from something. All at once the floodgates opened and a current of skeletons and zombies was rushing toward them.

All around the crew of the Dawn fought for their lives. They were doing so against a supernatural foe, but that made them all the more desperate. "Form up around me!" Steiner's loud voice boomed out. Gabe could see what he was getting at, and he tried to pull Tarra back towards the central position with him. Hands shot out from the bookshelves and bony fingers tried to grab onto any piece of him to hold him back. Over his shoulder he saw a skeleton approaching, and he threw Tarra towards the main hall as he turned just in time to deflect the blow with his pistols. With his opponent off balance he brought down the butt end of his firearm against the things heads, smashing the skull into pieces.

It didn't stop though, and once it had regained its footing it lunged at Gabe. Out of nowhere Sephara came flying in from the side, shoulder lowered, she knocked the headless corpse against the wall corner, obliterating it into nothing more than bone fragment. "Good timing," he panted.

"Arriving here just as you all get attacked but our friends is hardly good timing Gabe."

"You know what I mean, come on, to Steiner." The two raced back toward the ex-soldier. They'd all survive a little longer as a group than fighting alone. The real question was, would it be long enough to matter.

OOC: That was long overdue. Phoenix, that was a stellar post. Just had to let you know that ^_^

Cyradis wasn't thrilled, to say the least, with her given task. There was a wealth of knowledge here untouched for decades. Most of which was very likely original works not produced on a massive scale, and thus, not part of any other earthly library. Even with a quick glance, Cyradis could spot the spines of tomes inscribed with runes from cultures that expired centuries ago. Even if the contents of those books were cooking recipes, the discovery would stir the academic world into a veritable frenzy. Cyradis didn't even want to think about the spellbooks littering the shelves by the dozens, and the power contained therein. Her eyes drifted often to a black book inscribed with red symbols from a known, though unpopular, language used long before Kell was even a word to the people who became Kellan. Cyradis resisted her impulse to pour herself over that particular text and instead turned to Kyra and Cailey who shared her misfortune.

Cyradis didn't know much about the Qadiran cleric, other than her roots - unmistakable from her garb and accent. She could tell, however, that she wasn't exactly in top shape. She had circles around her eyes, probably from fatigue, and her skin seemed paler than Cyradis remembered from their first meeting. Kyra caught Cyradis' scrutiny and waved her arm across her body.

"It isn't physical," she said, her voice stronger than her appearance seemed, "The taint of this place affects me in a... spiritual way. I feel very far from the Everlight here."

"Or any light, for that matter," Cyradis added, "I can't imagine how far beneath the mountain we are." Cyradis walked a few steps toward the supposedly dead general, "have you any experience with this kind of thing, Kyra? I mean, have you ever seen a dead person so... healthy?"

Kyra chuckled and stepped next to Cyradis. "To be honest, I haven't seen many dead of the unhealthy type. I haven't been travelling very long, and most of my unpleasant encounters have been with bandits and lechers. I simply felt a calling and followed Sarenrae's will." Kyra walked right up to the altar, but stopped outside of the unnatural light falling over the body. "We don't have schools to teach us how to be clerics. You learn by experience and devotion, much like mages did before such a thing as a University."

Cyradis nodded and joined Kyra at the altar on the opposite side from her, "Is he the source?"

"Something has preserved him. I know little about dark magic other than it stems from the will of evil gods. I would suspect a group of such worshipers to be the root of this, but we've encountered nothing of the sort, and there are none here. If they were operating here, they would certainly be guarding this part of the tomb. Whatever they did here... I suspect they are now among the dead who walk these halls. Perhaps even the one who cast the spell that separated us."

"Can't you just cleanse the darkness, or something?"

Kyra gave Cyradis a pained expression, "Now you sound like Arlen."

They both laughed, but their mirth was short-lived as a gunshot rang from across the chamber and Archamae stumbled away from a bookshelf which proceeded to be smashed away by a rather intimidating armored corpse. Cyradis and Kyra both jumped back as the altar bearing the general began to shake, the light over his body slowly fading. Cyradis ran behind Kyra as the cleric's blazing scimitar hissed from its scabbard. They both fell back as the light blinked off and Ptolemy's ethereal blue eyes snapped open. He looked around only once before claiming his legendary great sword and bearing down on the nearest target: Amateria. Cyradis gathered power from her staff and fired a bolt of bright purple lightening at the awakened general. The bolt traveled instantly to its target and exploded loudly against his armored chest, but his attack was unfazed as Zantetsu flashed before the island priestess with speed rivaling the bolt meant to disarm it. She was thrown to the ground and soon saturated the stone.

Cyradis felt a very panicked chill run across her whole body as the general turned towards her; tendrils of lightening still crawling across his breastplate. Kyra, however, held a steely gaze and gripped both her scimitar and icon tightly. The blade was wholly covered in fire, the metal no longer even visible. In the other hand, her fist closed around the icon was ablaze with a white fire. Kyra moved to engage the general, her sword tracing lines of fire as it moved in graceful arcs and sweeps. Drawing from her strength, Cyradis gripped her staff and dove into the potent ley energy permeating the entire mountain. The head of her staff began to glow brightly as it attracted the power like a magnet. Kyra held her own, but was quickly forced into fighting defensively. The master general was considerably stronger and faster than anyone could have thought, and his magicite-infused armor was highly resistant to Cyradis' attempts to slow him down or soften his blows.

At this rate, Cyradis or Kyra would be spent in only a few minutes. With the others preoccupied with the resurgence of the undead horde aided by Ptolemy's honor guard, Cyradis had to think of something to turn the tide...

As the group found itself mostly as one again, Arlen's heart warmed. He hadn't been with them too terribly long, but there was something about this group of travelers and seekers of good fortune - perhaps in more ways than one - that stirred a sense of lasting friendship. Except for Garin. Over time, even Garin might elicit such feelings, though. For now, he was still an unknown. It was with those thoughts that Arlen's eyes went from overlooking the preserved general to the "locksmith" as he stuffed his pockets and bags with trinkets. His hand cradled his chin as he pondered the general again.

To a man who was a simpleton when it came to magical things, Arlen was positive that the undead and Ptolomy had a link. It wasn't natural for decay to be abated like this. Even with extremely powerful embalming compounds it would take nothing short of necromancy to keep a body in such condition. As he leaned forward over the Latium legend, he inspected a series of small holes in the armor. "Arrow wounds..." he whispered, his eyebrows raising.

"Arlen," he heard behind him, Amateira by the sound of it. Her common was quite accented, but at least she could be understood. More importantly, she could understand the world around her. He gently cleared his throat and turned to face her. "We're supposed to be looking for a book?"

"Ah, yes. That's right," he nodded. "Thank you for reminding me, I just got so transfixed on the General here that I almost forgot. Alright then, don't wander too far off, alright?"

Amateira nodded and gripped her bow tighter. "The dead. They scare me."

"Heh...I think that's the point, my dear," he replied and walked toward Kaltor, who was wandering by himself. He was only a few paces away when he heard a shriek and the distinct noise of an explosion, followed by sizzling flesh. Whirling about, Arlen could see the dead coming at all angles now. Kaltor was engaged with an undead soldier that was more finely decorated than the rest. It seemed very much like the statues of soldiers overlooking Ptolomy. Before he could help him, he was himself engaged by a zombie that was clawing it's way out from behind a bookshelf. Hidden passages! This is a spider's web...

It bore down on Arlen, falling onto him from a height along with heavy books. They rolled for a dozen feet as they struggled against each other. It seemed only to want to eat him as it kept trying to bite down on flesh. Arlen was finally able to grab his sword which had fallen from his grip. His forearm was jammed against the throat of the beastly creature as it tried to bite his face. The stench pouring over him as he stabbed the thing repeatedly made him nearly heave, if it wouldn't cost him his life. Arlen hit the zombie in the face, knocking it aside enough so he could get the point of the blade up. Piercing upward through it's jaw and through the top of it's skull was the blow that finally made it go limp. Hefting the rotting flesh off of him, he stood, breathing heavily. Kaltor was still fighting ahead of him, and behind his charge was unconscious in a pool of blood by the altar. A part of him exploded in emotion, doubtless it was Weka'u's influence. He took a couple of steps toward her but stopped and turned for Kaltor instead. If she was dead, there was no helping her. He could at least save a friend now.

He charged for the honor guard, slamming into it's armored back and causing it to stumble. Kaltor stepped aside as it fell against a pillar, and recovered with a growl.

"I had him you know!" Kaltor snapped.

"Yes I can see that, Greycloak, ha!" The pirate smiled back at Arlen and the two engaged the honor guard zombie with renewed vigor. It was a short fight when they worked together, both of them skewering the unnatural soldier a number of times before Kaltor landed the killing blow through it's helmet's visor. A blow Arlen would have no hope of making on his own.

Kaltor and Arlen heard Steiner's call just then and ran toward him. Arlen stopped at Amateira's side and inspected her wound. She was bleeding profusely, but there was hope still. She would not live long without aid of some kind. She still clutched her bow tightly, though she wheezed with a gurgle."I'm sorry Amateira. I will do what I can." Arlen remembered the healing power of Kyra's idol and searched for her. It was easy to find her, engaged with the General in a pitched battle, backed up only by Cyradis and Archamae. Garin had his sword and a knife out, slashing zombies with a quickness that Arlen would be hard pressed to duplicate. He was limping, but it seemed to slow him but only a fraction.

Steiner and the rest were gathered and zombies were closing in. It seemed as if they had bit off more than they could chew with this adventure.

"It's alright," she struggled. "I have done the will of my God. My people know we cannot choose the time of death."

"None of that talk, Amateira," Arlen reproved her. "I made a promise to Weka'u. Besides, I'm not through with your lessons on the world yet."

Arlen took her bow and quiver from her and touched her shoulder. "You'll use these again, I promise." Standing, he put the quiver over his shoulder and let it hang against the back of his leg. Taking an arrow, he nocked it and pulled back to full extension.

Closing an eye he lined up his shot and raised the angle a degree and released. Just above Kyra's head, his arrow whistled by and embedded into the General's pauldron as he pulled back for a blow against the cleric. The impact of the shot did little to injure him, but stalled him enough to allow Kyra an opening. Pulling another arrow from the quiver he narrowed his eyes and took a steady stride toward his struggling companions.

"Garin! Do something useful for a change and cover me while I help Kyra and Cyradis!" he bellowed.

Garin gave him a nasty look, but as Arlen stopped in his tracks, pulling back for another shot he could see that Arlen was as open as a prostitutes legs in Coral. He went back to back with Arlen, keeping an eye for any that would encroach upon him.

...

Madness had more order than the carnage that had consumed Ptolemy's resting place. Everywhere he looked he saw his companions locked in life and death struggles. Bone limbs swung persistently without reservation. They were looking to inflict any blow, no matter the price, because they did not care what happened to their corporeal bodies. Whatever, whoever they might have once been, an evil possessed them now; they were compelled to serve it.

Tarra and Sephara raced in front of him, bashing, shooting, and cutting down anything that got in their way. Down below Ptolemy had awoken. His flawless form moved with unnatural speed and strength. The general found Amateira in his path, and showed no mercy, opening up a long cut across her body. Poor child. So innocent,yet to be dragged to her death like this. Gabe would have cried for the injustice, and his own poor judgment, if he had a moment to do so. Instead he pushed his legs harder and hoped she still clung to life.

"Gabe, our left!" Sephara barked at him as she charged full on into the midst of two of the undead fighters. His focus returned to what was ahead, and he now saw they'd run into a small squadron of six. Sephara showed her agility and grace, dropping low under the first swings, grabbing the rib cage of the first skeleton as she went past, and slamming it into the one behind. A shot, then another, as Tarra emptied both her pistols at the enemy directly in front of her, blowing off a leg, then a forearm. Moving to close on the left, Gabe found an unprepared skeleton bearing down on Sephara's now exposed flank. Throwing his body forward, he dove, foot forward, in a last ditch effort to trip the cursed warrior before he reached her. He felt his feet collide with brittle bone, and the thing flew head first at the floor. A flash to his left, and he groaned in pain as he felt a blade bite into his shoulder. Blood leaked on his shirt, blotting the white fabric with deep crimson patches. As it wound up for another strike, Tarra slammed a pistol onto it's arm, breaking it off at the shoulder and scattering pieces of bone into the air to land like raindrops on his head.

She spun counter-clockwise, preparing to deliver a killing blow to its head. On the support of his right, Gabe rose to his feet and left Tarra to her work. His first mate was lithely parrying and dodging the attacks from one of the soldiers, with another of the one's she originally put on the floor closing fast on her. Angry at himself, at Amateira's fate, and at the insanity of this place, he unleashed his rage with a kick onto the closest skeleton's spine, breaking it in two. With no other enemy to worry about, Sephara used the momentum of the last remaining undead, dropping to her back and sending it flying over the railing with her leg.

"Have I told you recently how glad I am that you're my friend," Gabe panted as he held out his hand to help her up.

"No," she accepted and got back to her feet.

"Death's balls these things are everywhere," he heard Tarra curse from over his shoulder.

"And I do not think they will abate. Like a tsunami, they will come in wave after wave, until we no longer stand." Sephara's response was cryptic, but realistic as well. To defeat a hive you had to eliminate the Queen or whatever brain lay at the center.

"Ptolemy's the key then." Something like blue lightning flashed overhead. The mana storm raged with a power Gabe guessed could destroy every last thing in this room if it was fully unleashed.

"Gabe!" the shout came from the other side of the chamber. Archamae and Cyradis were furiously battling with the general even as they regained themselves. Acting together, they once again set off towards their friends. Cailey and Drice were beginning to be cut off from the major element of their group, even as everyone else began to come together. Jasper seemed to be floating in and out of being in a circle around his sister, protecting her and focusing on nothing else. Drice and Cailey continued to dispatch the horde that had flooded the gap between them and the rest of the crew. Like a dragon, fire spewed from Cailey's fingertips, igniting the dried bones of their attackers, but it wasn't enough to make a corridor back.

"Steiner, help them!" Without pause the big man charged towards brother and sister, his long spear smashing into whatever got in his way.

"Gabe Amateria's still alive!" Arlen informed him as he fought over top her defenseless body, firing arrows into the general's chest. Kaltor was doing what he could to give Arlen space.

"Jade, can you help her?" The doctor nodded with the slightest of hesitations. Battle wasn't her forte, but since joining them in Coral the green-eyed surgeon had shown her true character several times already, risking her life to help another. "Garin, help Jasper and protect Jade while she works."

"Aye... Yes sir... will do..." his nerves were evident. The locksmith wasn't bred for this either, but Gabe figured he had enough ice in him to protect the young doctor.

"We need a plan Gabe!" Archamae was again calling to him over the sounds of battle. "There's no way we can keep this up." But they'd have to, was all he could think of. They both exchanged knowing looks that said it was only a matter of time.

"Anything helpful to add Cyr?"

She spared but a moment to frown at him, before returning to her spells, raising a small gravity well to consume the arc of lightning that Ptolemy had thrown at them.

"Kyra seems to be having the most effect so far as I can tell," the pilot was reloading her weapons with precision and speed that spoke to her many years as a combat officer. "Nothing else seems to be working, not even Cyr's magic."

"That's not exactly good news," he replied, following her lead and reloading his guns. From the corner of his eye he saw Steiner, Drice, and Cailey fall in beside them. Cailey fell in on Cyradis' left side, while Steiner and Drice resumed their defensive stances around the circle.

"It could be his sword!" An eager voice offered. Aram had slid back off the main line, but still faced the undead alongside Sephara.

"Any reason to suggest that Aram?"

"Well," he batted away a spiked club, Sephara took care of the rest, "I thought I saw that blue stuff flow into the sword when he woke up." Gabriel suddenly felt like a blind man at a crossroad. Something inside him thought it couldn't be as simple as that. Even if they could get the sword of his hands, would he really just stop. Then again, what other tactic could they pursue.

"Are you sure Aram?!"

"No! But I saw that stuff flow like water down those columns and up into the sword, I don't know if it means anything."

"Well obviously you think it does or you wouldn't have said anything you damn whelp!" Arch let her frustration show.

"It's better than nothing. Everyone, hold the the perimeter. We need to buy some time. Arlen, Kyra, Arch, and myself are going to try to knock out his sword. Cyradis and Cailey, see if you can't figure out a way to stop that mana storm directly. Maybe it's the source, I don't know, but just work quickly!" That was it. Everyone had their marching orders.

"Gabe, I may be able to help, but I need time," it was Sephara who spoke to him. Something in her hazel eyes bestowed a quiet confidence he wouldn't have thought possible in this chaos. "I was trained to deal with these black arts. If he is cursed, or possessed, I can neutralize the poison, but it will take time, and I must perform the proper dance. I will be vulnerable..." so there it was. Under the circumstances they exchanged a long look of mutual acceptance. They both knew the risks, but were unwilling to speak them out loud.

Finally he nodded, "Then do it. We'll do what we can."

Astaroth Steiner

Astaroth had been leaning casually on the ledge leaning against the stone wall smoking a blend of tobacco from his pipe when hell broke loose. Undead were crawling everywhere, their sick bodies moving along, with rotted flesh barely hanging on in some cases. He noticed Drice in need of aid below him, and he quickly returned his pipe and leapt from the ledge, spear in hand and skewered the zombie clean through the skull, splitting it in two. Another undead greeted him from the side to which Steiner simply gripped its skull in his huge gauntlet and swung it around into the stone wall sending bits of skull and decaying flesh dinging on his own armor in a grim satisfaction.

Steiner briefly called out for everyone to gather, their chances of survival would be increased greatly if they fought as a group. The enemy seemed to come in endless waves. Their time was limited and the situation turned even worse when he noticed the once dead General, rise to life and slice a girl with his massive sword. Magic and arrows seemed to be minimally effective.

Astaroth's mind raced, his combat training trying to tell him what to do next. Find a weak point, eliminate the target. He overheard talks that the sword could possibly be the power of Ptolemy. Maybe he could find a way to disarm him, and use the sword against him? Gabe then called to Steiner to hold off the enemy. Before he realized what he was doing, Steiner grabbed his spear in both hands, charging through a small horde, slicing some in half, knocking others to the ground. Drice and Cailey were beginning to be cut off and he was going to reunite them with the rest of the group. His steel boots clanked on the stone floors, he even made a slight detour to smash a fallen zombie's skull before reaching the two.

Despite the the chaos the was ensuing around them, Astaroth held his calm demeanor which allowed him to make smarter decisions and better choices while fighting. He grabbed Drice on the shoulder,

"We need to move. Now." Steiner grabbed Cailey and shoved Drice to head back towards the others. A bony hand wrapped around Steiner's spear wrenching it away tossing it behind him and coming at him now with his own sword.

"Keep moving, I'll catch up!" Astaroth beckoned to them, retrieving a small ceremonial hatched from his belt. He had received it as a welcoming gift from his soldiers when taking command of his special operations unit.

The undead soldier make horrid noises, its bones grinding in their sockets without cartilage and it raised its sword above his head to come down on Steiner, no doubt cleaving his head in two. With lighting speed he chucked his hatched burying in between the eye sockets dazing it. This allowed Steiner to move in close, kicking the thing through its rib cage to its spine, snapping it in half with a sickening crunch. These were the sounds of combat and it only made Astaroth grin as he retrieved his spear, and charged back to join the others.

OOC: Geco.. going a little overboard with playing Tarra.. I think I can handle her at this point.I will post a little later.

When the tunnel finally ended and Jade saw Jasper jumping down she felt relieved. Having been parted from him had made her more nervous than she had realized. Perhaps she hadn't expected them to find their way out after Kaltor with brute force had broken the door. Who knew how that could have affected the maze. She crawled out to what appeared to be a ledge of some sort, looking down at the others. Her heart leapt with joy. She had not expected the entire group, or so she surmised, to be gathered below. With a quick scan of the area below they all seemed okay, although some shoulders were slouching a bit more than usual.

"Jasper, help me down," she begged of Jasper who stood below. Her arm was still in pain and she doubted her own ability to clamber down to the main floor.

<Just jump. It's not that far> he told her. <Don't worry, I'll see to it you won't fall>
He grinned before he added <badly>.

"Oh shush!" Jade replied, but did as he told her.

He had been right. The fall wasn't that far and she landed softly, bending her knees to dampen her fall.

<Told you!> Jasper had to comment, which Jade ignored.

"Gabe! Garin!" she said instead, waving to the others scattered around the room. "It's great to see you. What a fluke that all of us should end up here!"

She had just begun to relax, in the company of her crew mates, when hell literaly broke lose again. With shock she saw Amateira fall and for a moment she just stared in disbelief.

<Jade!>

<Jade!>

Finally Jasper's yells broke through and she moved quickly forward, nodding to Garin as she rushed forward to Amateira. She parried a blow from the left with her sword before throwing herself on the ground next to the girl. Blood was pouring out from her side andwithout caring about her own safety, counting on Jasper and the others, she rummaged through her bagpack and quickly found what she was looking for. It was a yellow powder very effectful in helping coagulate the blood.

<Hurry!> Jasper shouted as he was flashing in and out trying to keep everyone away from her.

Jade felt dizzy all of a sudden, but instead of follow where that feeling would lead she pushed the dizzyness and pain away with a couple of deep breaths after which she made a quick examination of the long wound left by the sword. She would have preferred to stitch it up, but even she realized this was not the time.

"I'm sorry, but this is gonna sting a bit," she told Amateira when she poured the powder into the open wound.

Then taking the closest thing she had to a bandage Jade pulled off her shirt, using her sleeves to tie it together. Jasper threw her a look of dismay as all that covered her upper body was a small black tight top which only purpose was to hold her breasts in place.

"Not now!" she growled before speaking softly to Amateira. "It is gonna be okay. We are just gonna have to move you."

"Garin!" she yelled out, catching the attention of the locksmith. "We need to move her out of harms way, as best we can."

Out of harms way might be difficult to achieve, but here in the middle of the floor they were too vunerable.

"I'm sorry, but we have to move you," she told Amateira, hoping the island girl understood what she was saying. "Here. Take her other arm."

Together with Garin, as Jasper had their backs, they began to move Amateira to the wall.

In the midst of battle was no place to perform the Sho'Eth, the traditional battle ritual of the Shoanti (note the new name, Shari might recognize its origins ^_^) spirit dancers. Performed in four parts, the first could most readily be called preparation for the journey. The moves and rhythms designed to tune the person to the proper frequency in order to make the connection to the spirit realm, as well as lifting defenses in case one encountered vengeful spirits. After came the transition and journey, the leap from one plane of being to the other and the subsequent search for your prey. This was followed by the hunter's lure, whereby a challenge to battle was issued. And finally, the Naatok, or battle dance. By that point her conscious mind would be far far away, but her body would transition into each subsequent dance and continue the moves until she returned... or failed.

Most problematic would be the first part. Concentration was paramount. In order to leave her body and travel to the Shoanti Spirit World she could not be distracted by anything happening around her. Sephara bent down, removed a small sharp rock, blessed by a Shoanti Shaman, from a pouch at her side, and etched a rough circle with several tribal symbols around it into the otherwise spotless floor. Then she stood just outside the ring, closed, her eyes, and took a deep breathe.

She tried to push everything away. She thought about her homeland, about her parents and the tribal elders, but each time just as she thought she was close, a loud noise from somewhere close by would pull her back. Attempt after attempt to initiate the dance failed as undead continued to try to breech their circle and Ptolemy continued his magical onslaught. The voices of the crew shouted around her, and she only partially her the words, refusing to open her eyes for even an instant.

Despair. This would not work. There was no way to remove herself.

Like a lightning flash across a purple night sky she suddenly came to a realization. She did not need to remove herself, she needed to embrace the maelstrom, let it consume her, become lost in the hideous and brutal jumble of sounds. With eyes pressed tight and deep breathes she focused on nothing but the noise, breaking it down to it's most basic levels. A sharp trill here, and low bass note there, and soon enough it blended into an unrecognizable amalgamation. Her lips began to move and she started to chant, adding to the frenzied symphony all around her. Her body swayed, slowly at first, but gradually picking up tempo. One step around the circle, then two. The moves flowed like the current of a river, and it wasn't long before the current had taken over completely. Her body twisted and gyrated and she stepped and jumped around the circle in a seemingly wild fashion.

Her foot struck the barren stone floor of the tomb and sent a pulse of energy through her body. It was the last thing she felt. When she opened her eyes she saw the familiar and endless fog that draped the entirety of the spirit realm's landscape. It had worked.

...

Amateira slumped against the wooden walls in the bowels of great beast the Cloud Riders used, her wrists were chafed from the iron shackles bolted into the wall. The brutish men had lashed her until she fainted laughing evilly the whole time. She had been captured along with three other tribesmen, when the Cloud Riders tried to raid the camp looking for Fire Stones. That had been four days ago, each day one less of her companions had been in the hold. Now she sat alone in the darkness ready to meet her fate like a true follower of T'a'u'weke, by going down in flames.

Amateira knew she didn't have long, soon they would come for her and beat her once again, the last time. The footsteps that had been pacing the deck above ceased, a bell rang several times. Soon after those same footsteps echoed on the floor outside her door. Putting on her most defiant look as the door flew open admitting a burly man, with a weathered face. He seemed to be the leader, at least he ordered the men around, but she had seen him being ordered to stop lashing her by another. She could not fathom these people's way of leadership, they weren't handed down by bloodlines, in fact they looked like they weren't even from the same region.

"Come on, don't bite now," the man told her a sardonic grin on his face. How had he come to learn T'a'u'weke’s Tongue? He knew how well she bit, he wasn't likely to make that mistake again the bandaged hand disguised the gruesome injury. He unshackled her from the wall and tied her arms with rope, making sure to keeping well away from her face.
"You fat swine, T'a'u'weke won't let you harm me and get away with it!" she screamed at him.

"Get up!" he yelled at her, yanking the rope her hands were tied to up high into the air causing her to either dangle in the air by her wrists or comply and ease her wrists. He all but dragged her out of the doorway, down the hall and up the ladder that lead to the deck and the cool ocean air. The ship was hauled up on a wide beach, bordering the towering trees. The man with help from several other crewmen tied her to the foremast, whilst another readied the whip for her already raw back. The big man spoke in the Cloud Rider's language and from the sound of it he was taking the first lash for himself.

He teased her with the whip each time having it stop just short of her flesh, Once, Twice, Thrice causing her to flinch each time. The fourth struck her abused flesh, she let her fury and pain out with a scream. A rush of air flew past her as she expected the next strike... but it never came. From seemingly nowhere tribal warriors were leaping from trees thudding on the deck to engage the crew.

A knife blade flashed across her bindings and she turned to see Wek'au's grim face. Released from her supports she collapsed to the floor, with horror she realised she couldn't feel her legs. "Wek'au leave me, I won't make it," she told him faintly.
"Well, I would rather see you passed to T'a'u'weke's flame the see you rot in the ocean like a dead fish," Wek'au spoke back knowing that to encourage her wouldn't work.

"Hmph," Amateira resigned as her consciousness faded slowly as they passed into the shadow of the trees. "My Stone!" she realised bring her back to consciousness for a moment.
"The others will get it..." With those comforting words she dropped out of consciousness
=)0(=

"My Island Princess..." Wek'au's final words echoed through her head as she regained her consciousness. This dark place wasn't the island, the Stone resting between her breast didn't vibrate as if with excitement like usual, rather it pulsated in an oddly tainted way.
"...just gonna have to move you," a woman's voice said to her soothingly.
"Mmkay," Amateira managed to mumble as she remembered where she was, in the tomb looking for a silly book she couldn't even read.
She endured the pain as she was moved from the centre of the room. "Hurts," she complained as Locksmith set her legs down none to gently awakening the pain in her leg too. The wound in her side was deep and gruesome, it seemed to already be festering as she looked down on it.

The Doctor was leaning over her doing whatever she could to stop the bleeding. Amateira searched her memory for the woman's name. She reached up and grasped her Jade's shoulder pulling her nearer. "Jade, when I pass burn me, see that whatever is left of me makes it back to Wek'au," she whispered into Jade's ear. The Doctor shook her head defiantly refusing to just let her charge die.
"Promise please, on T'a'u'weke's Flame," Amateira insisted a note of anger in her voice. It caused her Stone to warm and the nearest torch burning black with an unearthly light flared up at least three feet and became a clear yellow flame.

OOC: Don't see much to do at present she can't get up and fight. Since I'm uncomfortable with PRPing I will keep it minimal for now, and I want to see what Sohee will say.

Tarra growled in frustration as wave after wave of undead crawled from every fissure and bookcase. She wanted nothing more than to escape this Madness, and to be safe sitting in her library reading a book. That however, was not going to happen any time soon. As she charged forward she cursed her brother for leaving. If she made it out of this in one piece she would kill him.

For several moments, she thought of nothing but the battle at hand, shooting, kicking, and bashing anything that threatened her. The woman beside her doing just the same, doing everything possible to stay alive.

“The Names Tarra, Tarra Von Brimsol, and you?” Tarra panted, nearly out of breath, in a moment of brief respite.

“Don’t you think it’s a little chaotic for introductions?” The woman asked in a huff of breath, never taking her eyes off the monsters around them.

“No Time like the Present, I say” Tarra had to pause to shoot a ghoul that was headed straight towards Gabe. “Plus, if I am going to die in this God’s forsaken place, I want to know who I am fighting next to.”

The woman took a moment to consider Tarra’s words, and then said “Sephara Na.”

Tarra nodded in acceptance and the dance of death continued. "Gabe, our left!" Sephara barked, as she charged full on into the midst of two of the undead fighters. Swiftly Gabe joined the women in a foray against six more skeletons.

One shot, and then another, Tarra emptied both her pistols into the enemy, blowing off a leg, then a forearm. She was quickly running out of ammo. Gritting her teeth she fired her second to last bullet at an oncoming attacker which sent it over the edge. It landed on the floor below, shattering bone fragments everywhere. With a satisfied grin she turned back just in time to see a skeleton about to take out a wounded Gabe. With a charge she managed to reach him and with her pistol brake off the attackers arm. Turning, she did the same with its head.

"Death's balls these things are everywhere," Tarra cursed as another skeleton took the last ones place. With another loud pop, she let her last bullet take it out. Her aim was true to its head.

"And I do not think they will abate. Like a tsunami, they will come in wave after wave, until we no longer stand." Sephara noted cryptically.

"Ptolemy's the key then." Something like blue lightning flashed overhead. Tarra looked in horror as she couldn’t imagine in slightest what it was. She had a feeling that things were only going to get worse if things continued the way they were. This was it she supposed, the end was near. She had never thought that she would die fighting the undead in a tomb almost forgotten in the world. Her heart ached as she thought she would never see her brother or family again. She never really got to say goodbye.

The next few moments almost seemed to slow down to her. She watched the others hurry to help each other, and she wondered if anyone would do that for her. She listened to everything as if she was just a stranger watching the events unfold from the sidelines. Tarra shook her head. She was not going to die in self pity. Damn it, Twenty-seven is too young to die. She would get out of here alive or dying fighting.

"Gabe, I may be able to help, but I need time," Tarra snapped back into focus as Sephara had a plan."I was trained to deal with these black arts. If he is cursed, or possessed, I can neutralize the poison, but it will take time, and I must perform the proper dance. I will be vulnerable..." so there it was. Under the circumstances they exchanged a long look of mutual acceptance. They both knew the risks, but were unwilling to speak them out loud.

"Then do it. We'll do what we can." Gabe spoke with confidence.

“Hey guys…. Umm…I’m out of bullets…” Tarra frowned.

Sephara glided through the spirit world of the Shoanti with reckless abandonment. The colours of this world were muted and hazy, the layer of mist shrouded everything. Trees, animals, and rocks all seemed partially ethereal, but most of their physical substance remained. To an outsider, she could imagine how this place would like a bad dream.

As she made her way deeper into the world she noticed the fog getting denser. Spirits of her ancestors called out to her as she passed, at first inviting her to chat with them, then begging her to stop once they realized where she headed. A thick canopy of rust coloured trees grew larger on the horizon. That was her destination. Into the forest maze of the Nibhel – the forgotten ones. Only they possessed the power she would need to confront whatever corruption lurked inside Ptolemy’s soul.

She began to call the friendly spirits to her and asked them to lend her their power, for she would need every ounce of will to resist the cunning onslaught of the devilish spirits of the forest. With heavy hearts they acquiesced, dissipating before her eyes, transforming into a tyrian purple spectrum of light that danced into her body. Every spirit brought another surge of energy. This was something she had never done before, she had been warned against in fact, and she did not know what lay ahead.

-o0o-

Inside the forest day had turned to night. Darkness reigned. She’d summoned an golden, translucent orb to guide her through, however, after what felt like several hours, all she felt was lost and scared. Alone and trapped like a rat in a maze. Perhaps this was what the undoing of so many before her had been. Although she felt the distinctive sword point of time’s steady blade, these outcasts had only to be patient and wear her down. Then, when at her weakest, strike with overwhelming ferocity.

“You come to this place alone young one. Did the elders not warn you of us?” the voice that finally broke the silence was chillingly friendly – comforting even.

“In this case, I had no choice,” she replied.

“So you say, so many have said. I wonder what could have brought you to such a point of despair as to welcome this risk then.” A murky figure stepped out of the darkness between two trees. It was white as a ghost, save for a few lines of deep blue that outlined its edges.

She strained to try to see the spirit more clearly, but could not at this distance, and did not dare risk moving a single step. “My friends and I have encountered an evil we are incapable of defeating. A death knight so I’m told. With great power and a undead army at his command.”

It stepped closer, revealing itself. It had the pointy ears, fangs, and tail of a fox, claws like a bear, yet strangely angelic features. “I’m sorry to hear that. So you have come here in hopes of obtaining the power needed to take on this foe, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Then what deal do you propose?”

“I’m sorry?” She hadn’t expected this. After the stories the elders told, she had expected to have to subdue the spirit somehow, to force her will upon, not bargain with it.

“You are in need of my abilities, but I will not give them to you freely, and even with the energy you’ve collected you have no hope of forcing me into submission. So I ask again, what do you offer?”

“What does a being like yourself desire?”

The creatures smile sent pins into every bone in her body, “What do all non-living things desire most?”

She inhaled deeply, “No… I cannot trade that…”

“I have made no such demand young one,” it twirled its fingers in the air leaving wisps of smoking floating absent-mindedly above them. “Our arrangement would be more… cooperative.”

“How so?”

“Your body could house us both. There’s more than enough space going unused in that head of yours. Let me take up residence in a small part. I require only a few hours each day, at dusk and dawn, where I shall be in control. The rest of the time, you will be you.”

“How could I give up a part of myself, even an unused part…” her words came slow and soft.

“How can you and your friends continue to live if you do not?”

And there it was. The inevitable conclusion that left her feeling exposed and vulnerable. She took one more breathe of air to hold just for herself, “So be it.”

And it smiled that smile again, and she knew immediately she had made a grave misjudgement.

When she woke up she was hovering above the battle, watching helplessly as Ptolemy had used his dark magic to conjure some kind of bone armour that covered every inch of his body. There, still in the middle of their ring, she lay helplessly on the ground, her body crumpled like a pile of dirty rags. She felt a pang deep in her heart as she saw Gabe sitting over her body on his knees with a profound look of sadness. He thinks I'm dead. And although she knew she wasn't, the thought somehow did not leave her mind as quick as it should have. Sephara had made a bargain that would kill a part of herself in a way... she was not so sure her life would ever be the same. Raising her gaze she shifted her attention to the task at hand.

Tendrils of crystalline blue lightning flailed wildly in the domed ceiling of the extravagant chamber. Only this time when she looked at it, she could see a body floating in the middle of the energy conflux. The hollow white eyes of the being stared back at her as if she was a mosquito, nothing more than a mild nuisance. A tendril whipped out to swat her away. Without thinking she leaned back, the tendril failing to connect with her face by no more than a finger's width. The simple precision of the movement seemed to alarm the being inside the conflux as it narrowed its gaze on Sephara.

"I'll need full control from here on out Sephara." The voice inside her head belonged to the spirit from the forest.

Without thinking she replied, "Very well Kisma Tam. Be careful with my... our body."

"I have no plans on returning to Nibhel young one," Kisma said with a hint of contempt. Daring no further delay, Sephara let go of control and felt it taken up immediately by the elder spirit. She was a passenger now, only along for the ride. Almost as soon as she was relegated to the sidelines did the fight erupt.

The two beings engaged each other in a furious maelstrom. She did not know exactly what the other being was, but it did not seem to matter. From what she could discern, each combatant took turns hurling spiritual and psychic attacks at one another, trying to erode the other's power base. It seemed, that in this world, with their connection to it un-cemented, they were still limited in what they could do. Besides, they were still in some spirit realm, most likely this being's home as it were.

Kisma flew in the air with the agility of a hawk, the power of a condor, and the speed of a falcon. Even though she wasn't in control, Sephara could feel her body reel with each blow it absorbed, some far worse that others. Kisma, too, seemed to be growing concerned, because she began to press her opponent wth even more attacks. Waves of pristine white light hammered into their target and Sephara saw the beings eyes go wide.

"There." The Shoanti Spirit began to rotate her hands forming a ball of earthen tones. When it was the size of a loaf of bread, Kisma released it. It sailed unabated and landed squarely in the being's chest. Three pulses, each stronger than the last, were emitted from the strange, murky ball before if it flashed a green and brown light so strong she had to close her eyes. When she opened them again, the being and the lightning storm both had vanished.

As if reading her mind Kisma said, "It was a minor evil. It acted like a bridge, channeling power from some nether region into Ptolemy's hands."

"So Ptolemy is defeated?"

"No young one. He simply has lost a significant source of power. Whatever other abilities he has, your friends must overcome for themselves." She cast her eyes downwards once again and watched the fighting below.

"We should return to my body now. They may need my help." When she tried to regain control she was resisted. The same thing happened with her second attempt. "What are you doing?" she practically shrieked in dismay.

"Now, now foolish child. Did you really think I'd surrender control once you gave it to me so freely?" Panic overwhelmed her mind, whatever was left of it. Then there was nothing but blackness all around.

Seconds ticking away felt like hours as Arlen carefully aimed his bow, evading attacks from both the death knight and other undead manifestations. To some, it would be hard to allow the support team to cover the main offensive in their primary objective. To Arlen, it was just another task that had to be completed. It was these moments of pitched battle that Arlen found himself most lucid in life. Thought seemed to drag on beyond the bounds of time as he absorbed and calculated his surroundings.

Beyond anyone's reach there was an undead minion of rotten flesh about to come upon Archamae from behind. With the experience from war and survival Arlen fluidly moved Amateira's well-crafted bow in line and released. An arrow pierced into and through the head of the zombie with a spray of effulgence that could hardly be described in the common tongue. He had noted that some meters away the dancing of the first mate had stopped and Gabriel was instantly at her side, unaffected by any outside influence anymore than his beloved friend. After all, the bonds between people were stronger than any conflict man could conceive. Even through death those bonds go unbroken by means of memory and heart.

Reaching to his quiver, Arlen counted twelve arrows and a plethora of Archamae's bolts in the flesh and armor of the death knight with little abatement to his attacks. His fingers caressed the fletchings of the islander's arrows and counted only four remaining, not counting his keepsake from this adventure - a rare arrow of lost crafts.

Arlen breathed in as he pulled back, filling his lungs and straightening his back as he sighted Ptolomy. Loosing the arrow, Arlen's eyebrow raised as it pelted the old General in a wound from his previous life. It was a recoil that was almost imperceptible, and could have been taken as hesitation, but Arlen saw the pain the creature pretended not to feel. A lucky shot to be sure. With what seemed like a growl, Ptolomy spoke in undertone some corruption of a sort as he wove his dark energies. A fireball hit an invisible barrier and crashed from the second tier downward toward the group on the lowest level. Arlen rolled aside as it barreled toward him and exploded on the granite where he had stood a moment previous.

Within seconds, Ptolomy had a new skin of crackled bone. Archamae tried as she might to penetrate it with her weapon, but to no avail. "Damned spells... One never knows what law of nature is to be broken next," Arlen complained to the air. "Even death's hand can be stayed for a time."

Two more arrows were loosed and bounced off, but not before they created a spiderweb cracks. He's not invincible, then. Just protected, Arlen reassured himself. Bolting for the staircase to get closer to the action, Arlen loosed his last arrow on the move and waited only for the result. As it looked to be a missed shot, his heart became distressed. The general pulled back for a strike against Kyra and the arrow glanced off of his neck, taking with it a chunk of his bony armor. After the blow was deflected, Ptolomy's eyes flashed their anger at the bowman. With an angry grimace his hand extended at Arlen, who instantly shot up the staircase.

As he ran up, the metal grating beneath his feet turned to rust and creaked like a wild banshee. It seemed that half of the tier was succumbing to the odd spell of rot and decrepitude. Entire sections fell away as Arlen sprinted. Finally a piece beneath his feet gave and he stumbled to his knees with a painful crack. "****!" he exclaimed in stifled cry. The grating he was on heaved and jerked as it degraded and Arlen scooted over, grabbing onto the railing. The ground fell away where Arlen had been and sagged under him as he lifted himself up. Ptolomy's attention had long since gone back to Kyra and Cyradis, the main shield of their defense.

Using the railing, Arlen limped as fast as he could toward the battle. Sweat growing on his brow with each painful step of his left leg. He was behind Kyra and Cyradis now, and removed his collector's piece from his sheath. Unwrapping the arrowhead he stared at it for a moment before drawing back on the bow. Kyra was a few meters away and Arlen kept his aim on the General. "Kyra! I need your God's strength in this arrow!" he bellowed. Gritting his teeth, his eye and arrow were fixed firmly on the General's heart.

...

OOC: Sorry for the wait Zran..

IC: From the tone in Amateira's voice Jade had a feeling that the promise meant everything to her. She sighed in defeat and looked Amateira straight into her eyes.

"Relax. Spare your strength," Jade said soothingly while stroking the top of Amateira's head when the girl seemed to grow agitated. "I promise that when the day comes and your spirit moves on, I will do what I can to follow your wishes," she said truthfully. "But I also promise that day is not today. You understand me?"

She could only hope that her last promise was not a lie. The wound was closed for now, but if they didn't get back to the ship where she could properly clean and sew it, it would become infected and start to fester. Amateira had lost a lot of blood and she doubted the girl was strong enough to fight off an aggressive infection and the fever that would most likely follow. However for it to come that far they first needed to survive this fight which was far from over.

<What is she doing?> she heard Jasper mumble to himself, and she followed his gaze to Sephara. He looked as if he wanted to draw closer, but he didn't. Instead he stood watching over them with his sword ready in his hands. It seemed as if the fight had moved away from them. It moved across the floor like a large wave, back and forth. At least for now we are safe, Jade thought and couldn't help but to feel releaved even if the same thought made her feel guilty. She knew very well that it meant that her shipmates and friends were the ones caught in battle instead of her. She felt a great gratitude towards them that grew stronger inside for each second. Without them she would have died long ago. She owed them her life.

<You would not even be here if it weren't for them> Jasper said, almost as if he had read her mind.

"Stop that," she said, too tired to argue with him. "Please, just stop."

Amateira gave her an odd look, but Jade merely gave her a faint smile in return.
"The bleeding has stopped now," she told her instead of giving her an explanation to what she just had said. "But you must be very still, so it will not open again."

All of a sudden a bright flash almost blinded her and she covered her eyes with her arm. When the light had faded away it seemed almost darker than before. The large chamber had grown silent and still. As soon as her eyes had adjusted to the dim light that remained she saw people moving here and there, hearing the soft words of first Cyradis and Arch, and then later the others. It brought hope to her heart. Was it finished? Did this mean they had survived? With more energy than she felt she stood up and quickly started to scan the room for injuries. Moving around she suddenly felt cold. The loss of her shirt had not bothered her before, but now when the adrenaline began to fade away her body seemed to react to the cold air against her naked skin.

Amateira was still her largest concern when she reached the Captain.

"I need to bring Amateira back to the ship as soon as possible," she told Gabe with more authority in her voice than she had ever belived she could muster. "She has suffered a great injury and it needs to be treated properly."

For a blinding instant, nothing made sense…

They been locked in their life and death struggle with the Death Knight for at least a quarter of an hour and exhaustion was beginning to set in. All around the circular perimeter they held their defences bravely, fending off magic, arrows, and all manners of blunt and sharp objects. But time would run out. If any one of them fell, they risked being overwhelmed in an instant before they had a chance to collapse the circle inward. If even one undead made it into the circle, they’d have their choice of exposed backs to fall upon. If Cyradis and Cailey faltered, even for an instant, the group would be exposed to a potentially fatal magical attack.

If…

When life looks at its end, on rare occasions, you could hear the heart beat of the earth as it turned. Time slowed. Each pulsing beat took on a new form and contained a new meaning. Actions, decisions, judgements long ago made suddenly reappeared in front of a person. Life’s cruelty was evident with the last seed of doubt it placed inside you.

Clinging to hope, he fought off the wave of emotion swelling inside him. Kyra now seemed to be the only person actively attacking Ptolemy while the rest of the crew held on for dear life, praying the storm would break soon. Every now and then Cyradis or Cailey would contribute with a magical offensive, but each was easily repelled in turn, and then it was the general’s turn to push back.

Thump.

He was surprised he even heard the noise, but the distinctive sound of a body hitting the floor distracted him, and he turned to see what had happened. At first he had thought they had lost one of the defenders on the circle, perhaps Aram or Tarra who he wasn’t entirely confident in their fighting abilities, but they’d taking strategic positions in between Kaltor, Steiner, and Drice for that very reason. What he saw affected him far worse.

Lying like a rag doll on the ground was Sephara. Without thinking Gabe sprinted to her side. He dropped his guns and held her head in his lap. “No! Seph, no! Talk to me. Say something. Say anything damnit!” Raw emotion overwhelmed him. It felt like everything he knew to be true in the world had evaporated like a pool of water in the middle of a desert.

“Everyone, collapse the circle! Back one step! Now!” Steiner’s commanding voice barely registered in his head as the crew followed orders. No one came to his side to help, it was far too dangerous for everyone.

And so he wept. Tears streaked lines down his dusty skin. He must have looked like one of those sad clowns you see at the fairs or festivals. “Please, don’t leave me Seph…”

As if in reply, Gabe felt a warm but shallow breathe of air escape onto his forearm. She wasn’t dead! Then what?

For a blinding instant, nothing made sense. Something had consumed the entirety of the chamber, filling it with raw energy and leaving his brain addled. When it retreated, Ptolemy was no longer standing, but was instead in a heap of bones. It must have been Kyra, he thought, she’d found a way to kill the bastard. He looked down expectantly, but there was no change in Sephara. No stir of life to be found.

A conflict forced itself to the forefront of his mind. For the first itme in his life, he did not want to be the Captain of the Requiem Dawn. He wanted nothing but to sit here with his friend, to carry her body away, to try to help her however he could. Actions, decisions, judgements…

Wiping the tears away and gently laying Sephara’s head down Gabe got back to his feet. Jade was already on her way over to examine their First Mate. All around him he saw relieved and excited faces. They’d done it. Here they stood, breathing, alive. They had vanquished the great general made stronger still from his death magic. They deserved to celebrate, but he felt only profound sadness. Was it selfish to want to grieve for his friend? But then she was not dead, not yet at least. Grief would have to wait.

“Good job everyone,” he could only managed a neutral monotone at this point, “Does anyone need Jade to look at them?” When there were no takers, he continued, “This is no ordinary feat we’ve accomplished today, but let’s hold off on a proper celebration to we actually get out of this cursed rat hole. Remember, we came here for the book, and we still need to find it before we can leave.”

"Oh right,” Steiner piped up, “I found the musty old book right as that sack of bones decided to wake up." The armored man picked as teeth with a sliver of wood, casually tossing a leather wrapped package to Gabe. "I imagine such events were related?"

Breaking the silence was the maniacal laughter of Kaltor Greycloak. Gabe had never wanted to kill the man more than he did now.

“I need to bring Amateira back to the ship as soon as possible," Jade told him now with a hard tone, "She has suffered a great injury and it needs to be treated properly." Who cares about the island girl!?! He wanted to scream with rage. Did none of them care about Sephara. His best friend looked like she was in a coma, and not a peep from anyone.

It took a moment, several in fact, to remember that they were all part of his crew. He was equally responsible for all. But the neglect they showed for Sephara would not be soon forgotten. There was nothing Godly about Gabe, but he felt as if the greatest sin ever had just been committed against him.

“Good job Steiner. And we’ll be leaving as soon as we figure out how.” He quickly set them all to work. He sent Aram and Steiner to scout for a way out in one group along with Drice and Cailey in another. The rest were left to finishing pilfering whatever they wanted from the tomb. Whenever a group came back they switched, giving the scouts a turn to line their own pockets.

Gabe stayed by Sephara’s side the entire time, where he was needed most. Twenty minutes later it was Cyradis who brought the good news.

“We’ve found a way back, it exits just before the cave in.”

Nothing could have prepared Kyra for the fight she faced against Ptolemy. No amount of training could enable her to expect the sheer power and unrelenting tenacity of the deceased general. For the most part, neither of them gave ground. Aided by Cyradis, Kyra could parry Ptolemy's blows but only just. The mage had long since given up direct attacks and instead focused only on supporting Kyra. But even slowed, Ptolemy's strikes slid off Kyra's scimitar and sent vibrations along her whole arm. Bright flares spewed from the blade with each strike and counterattack, but nothing seemed to faze the death knight in the least.

Kyra's training did help her to maintain her endurance, however, those below her weren't trained for extensive combat - with the exception of a few - and would tire and fall. The endless swarm of undead seeped into the tomb from every angle, but fortunately, avoided the general and his quarry. Kyra did not doubt they would come after her should the others fall. Not even the power of Sarenrae would save her then. She would become cursed like all these here, and forever roam the tomb.

A brief pause in the melee came when Ptolemy decided to fire off a spell at those trying to hit him with ranged weapons. His response was to raise an impenetrable skin of hard bone armor around his now-desiccated flesh. Kyra took the opportunity to recite a short prayer to restore and invigorate herself and her allies. Grasping the icon to her chest, she recited the prayer in Qadiran. The icon flashed and bathed her allies in an aura of yellow-white light, while the undead shied away from the holy glow. The light shone for only a few seconds, but when it dissipated, Kyra could feel the strength returning to her arms and legs, and her mind becoming focused and clearer. With Ptolemy's armor complete and Kyra prayer said, the battle resumed. Kyra didn't know how long she'd been fighting, but the end was far more abrupt than the beginning.

Shortly after Archamae fired a salvo from her magitek weapon, rending three minor scratches on Kyra's left cheek, Arlen exposed a weakness in Ptolemy's armor and took aim. He shouted something from across the room, but the din of battle and Kyra's rapt attention on Ptolemy prevented the words from registering in her ears. The message was not lost on Cyradis, however, as Arlen fired the arrow and the archmage wrapped it in a swirling, purple-blue sheath. The speed of the mastercraft arrow tripled and and shattered through the bone armor and lodged in the general's chest. Reciting and incantation from behind Kyra, Cyradis' hands gripped her staff and thrust the crystalline head at the general. The enchanted arrow exploded in a violent vortex of the same purple-blue energy which enveloped it before. Ptolemy's magicite armor was disintegrated and he staggered back, his sword clattering to the ground. Kyra lunged forward and thrust her blazing icon into the death knight's chest.

A bright flash of light followed, blinding even Kyra as the holy symbol destroyed the corrupted undeath of the once-heroic general.

---------------------------------------

As the groups dispersed to search for an exit, Cyradis found herself drawn back to the book which had captured her attention just before Gabe sent her to poke around the general's altar. She was completely mana-drained; the head of her staff not glowing even a tiny bit. It would take hours upon hours of meditation to recharge the staff and herself. She was still running on adrenaline, so the physical fatigue hadn't hit her yet, but she knew after nearly two days without sleep she would be in need of some major recuperation. She just hoped Gabe would find a nice, violence-free place to set the Dawn down so she, and everyone else, could rest.

Cyradis took a seat on a half-destroyed bench and pried open the cover of the tome. The pages were untarnished and the same archaic form of Kellan on the spine covered the pages along with various diagrams and drawings of power circles. Cyradis wanted to sit and read the tome here, but her lack of knowledge of archaic Kellan and her unyielding desire to be out of this tomb was enough to convince herself to resist this particular urge.

Kyra, however, seemed no worse for the wear. Between her prayer and excellent conditioning, she moved as if she'd just gotten here. She stood over Amateria whispering a prayer under her breath. Jade had done all she could, and there remained little else Kyra could do. Grave injuries were beyond her scope of healing, though she could help to ease the pain and slow the bleeding. Next she moved to where Gabe sat holding Sephara. Kneeling next to the captain, she placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and gave him a knowing smile. Brushing the tall woman's forehead, Kyra shook her own head and stood. Whatever afflicted the woman, it wasn't a curse or physical ailment.

Some time later, Aram and Steiner returned bearing news of and exit passage. Once Drice and Cailey rejoined them, the group started off with Sephara and Amateria laid across makeshift stretchers.

The room was went eerily quiet as the once great general exploded into a cloud of dust and bones. As he wiped his blades clean on the torn scrapes of the final undead he had dispatched he understood immediately that the creatures had not fallen easily. Several of the crew carried wounds, including two that were down and not moving. By the looks and concern on the others they were not dead. At least not yet. Sheathing the twin blades he took a step before the silence was broken by an unlikely source. Cailey kneeled on the floor caught in a wave of giggling madness as the overwhelming emotions of battle finally overtook the girl.

He couldn't help adding a grin of his own as he made his way to the girl. Dirt and grim covered her once spotless face. Her newest cloak was tattered with tears and spots of blood but she seemed healthy. He nodded to her casting a cold eye to anyone who thought to belittle the girl. Coming into this dark place had been good for her. He had seen her mature and grow exponetially. Before she would have faltered never would he have believed she would stand at the center of a battle line and hold her own. Although it was not the life he had wished for her he couldn't help feel pride as he looked down upon her.

"I didn't break." she whispered to him in answer to his unspoken thoughts. He gave her a moment to allow the whirlwind of emotions that accompanied any battle when forced to cross the line between life and death. She nodded and took his outstretched hand and glided graceful to her feet. "I have never been this tired. Is this how it always feels?"

He answered with a shrug and as she tucked in next to him he hear the captain start issueing orders. Considering that they had wandered the tunnels successfully before they were a good choice to begin scouting a way out. As they maneuvered down one of the great halls Cailey opened up. "I was terrified. At first the fear strangled me...I couldn't breath." Drice continued walking allowing her to work out what was on her mind. "But then I saw everyone rush to fight, and the island girl go down. I thought about Cyradis and you. I knew you would fight to get to me and I wanted to do my part. I just didn't want anyone to get hurt. I was so angry..."

"Anger helps." Drice whispered as they kept moving. "But don't let it hold you hostage like the fear. To much of either is deadly but the right combination is deadly for your enemies. You felt the bonds that you've built. Its to good to have those."

"You only have me. Why?"

"Somethings cant be helped little one."

Cailey shook her head offering him a fearful look. "You scared me."

He stopped. "I scare alot of people."

She chewed her lip in thought as she considered what to say. "When we came to this place you talked to yourself. I thought you mad. But you knew when those things came. I know you brother, you have no magic. So how did you know?"

He laughed. How do you explain the madness of voices in your head? Or the fact that sometimes they were right? "I don't know...but when I do you will be the first to know." He stopped as they rounded a turn to find a dead end. "Come lets go back maybe the others found a way out."

"I love you." Cailey whispered.

He stopped and hugged her. "I love you too little one." He paused. "I will always be here for you." as they continued on towards the group he realized more then ever he needed to talk to Cyradis...

Arlen woke up not far from Archamae. An amazing thing considering the last thing he remembered was loosing an arrow. He shifted and stopped with a groan. "I'm getting old," he wheezed. "It's official now... urgh..." He had scrapes from the grating on his arms, and a mana-burn across his face, resembling an uneven sunburn. Finally, he shifted enough to roll onto his back and breathe more freely. His vision was blurry at first, and had noticed that his nose had bled out. His near-constant headache was a long-forgotten dream to what pounded now, but at least he was alive.

Sitting up, he flexed his torso and cracked his neck with relief. It was over. Mostly. They still had to get out of the place, but at least it hadn't crumbled around them. Many others had awoken much sooner than he, or hadn't been as affected due to proximity. He was filled in by Cyradis on what had happened as they sat, both drained and fatigued by the altar. Looking over at Amateira and then also to Sephara, his heart went out to the girls. Nothing he could do to help either of them right now. Standing, he limped over regardless. Gabe was ever at Sephara's side, but especially now.

Standing beside the kneeling captain, he looked at Sephara and Gabe respectively before nodding and turning. "She'll pull through Captain. Sephara doesn't know how to fail." With those simple words, Arlen walked slowly away to join the others in looking for treasures among the treasures. First and foremost, though, he walked back up to where the General had fallen and stared for many moments at Zantetsuken before leaning over to pick it up. Reaching out, his fingers stopped just short of it. Closing his hand and rubbing his fingers for a moment, his thoughts began folding upon themselves, trying to decide whether the item was forever cursed. In the end Arlen simply stood, thinking better of it, but continuing to stare. "A pity. It'd be a good mount on the Captain's wall. A victory against a legend." I'll ask Kyra, whether it is cursed, and if she could remove it. If I get the chance.

He had come back down from the top level, the way he came, with quivers of arrows and one finely crafted spear, sword, and bow each. If he had more hands, he would have gotten one for every member of the crew and some for storage in the armory on-board the Dawn. They didn't make them like this anymore. Everything seemed to be manufactured en masse these days, rather than painstakingly crafted. Dropping a few precious items in his bag he ran into Garin on the bottom floor, sitting at the altar holding Zantetsuken.

Arlen's eyes narrowed and he walked toward the locksmith whose pockets were nearly burst at their seams. "Don't you think it might be a bad idea to be in possession of such an item? What if it's cursed, Garin? It could be bad for all of us, but especially you," Arlen warned.

"Maybe. I've never lived cautiously and it's worked so far. I figure I can get famous with this," the thief grinned.

"Mmm... No doubt with the story that you slay him yourself," Arlen nodded in agreement.

"That's not fair, Arlen," Garin said, pointing the heavy sword at the aging traveler. "We all played our parts."

Arlen smiled, "That we did, young man. That we did. Thank you for protecting Jade and myself when it was needed."

Garin lowered the tip to the ground and rested it on the marble. Nodding once, he gave Arlen a wink. "You're welcome, I think." Garn smirked and bobbed his head,"Nice shot, by the way."

Arlen turned and raised a hand in thanks, "It was Kyra who landed the killing blow, and Cyradis who enchanted my arrow. Thank them for saving our lives."

Limping away, he saw Cyradis just then mentioning to Gabe they had found a way out. Arlen looked back at Garin and motioned for Amateira, "Help me carry her. I owe her that much and more for not protecting her when it mattered most."

Garin tied a sash around Zantetsuken's massive hilt and slung it over a shoulder while he and Arlen carried Amateira's form. Even with a limp, Arlen wouldn't pass on his responsibilities to the girl. She was in and out of consciousness, delirious with beads of sweat forming on her brow and dripping off. Several times as they moved, Arlen called for Garin to set her down so he could check on her and place a cool damp rag on her forehead. They had come across a clear pool of water and refilled their canteens and skins, but food was now completely gone, rather than barely existent. After what seemed like a week under the mountain in the tomb, even a morsel would feel like a feast.

The exhilarating feeling of fresh air and a cool breeze was enough to bring a feel of mirth to everyone's faces, but the natural light coming from the entrance far above was even more powerful an emotion. Kyra could be seen paying homage, and Archamae instantly stood tall and confident. Arlen himself remembered the salute to the sun that he was taught as a boy and performed it in his heart. "Maybe there is a God," he mused to Kyra, who had finished her chant. Looking over, she gave a knowing smile to the journeyman.

"Arch, your baby isn't far now," he laughed.


OOC: Feel free to ignore the exit paragraphs if you had other things planned.