Quest [Quest] Entering the Temple of the Unknown

[Akhen]

He must have looked like gore, he told to himself this as he rubbed a smudge of grime under his eye with a rough knuckle. He knew that whenever the dirt, dried blood and sweat began to mix, his hair would knot and twist in violently grotesque shapes which often looked like coarse horns. Four dead bodies now found a home in the Temple of the Unknown. Akhen wasn't really sure what had just transpired but he went about to check if they were all okay, or all dead depending on whose side he was on. Interrogation would come later. Kneeling in the chamber-light must have given onto him the visage of a monster, “Hey,” he rasped, still tired from his fight. Akhen knew his baritone always sounded like a growl. She was still breathing, dazed but slightly active. Convenient, he told himself solemnly with a slight turn to look at his sword – still trembling in his bloody hand. “What happened back there?” he asked her. He helped her sit up with a cradle of his hand behind her head and drew back when he felt wetness between her dark strands. Looking at the splutters of crimson on his grungy fingers for a while he wasn't sure whose blood it really was – hers, his or the corpse's laying just a stone's throw away. The sell-sword waved an open palm in front of Aladari's face to track any movement in the multi-coloured eyes, he wasn't certain whether the girl was talking, groaning, mumbling but he listened anyway. He turned and eyed at his longsword again. It was scored, bloodily bronzed with carmine and grey matter, fragments of skull fused with foamy scarlet, shreds of flesh and hair along the length of the harsh iron. Irrespective of its namesake the mercenary hadn't really noticed how ordinary the sword was, he remembered when he was first got it as a boy – aye, he was a boy when he started in this unpleasant profession. The sword looked longer than, it was heavier too and swinging it was homicide on the wrists and forearms. On him entirely. Now the sword dealt death swiftly and subconsciously, it was natural in his hands. It was no mere extension of him. Each chink, each score, each rugged chip was a story, it was a scar that he could point out on himself to remember and even to forget. Violence, death and betrayal; for Akhen this was another day and ironically it wasn't on the job this time. But he was used to it by now, or should be, right? At the question he turned to the girl, his jaws clenched tightly. She couldn't have been wor-- he debated internally as he turned to look at her eyes, then looked around the foetid chamber and back to his sword. She's really out of it or putting up a really good act, the mercenary mentally sneered. Her collapse had really taken everyone off-guard, it was the perfect distraction. Admittedly Akhen had first suspected Old Joe, he actually suspected everyone in the entire chamber besides himself really but now a lot of his suspicions were directed toward the girl. With a glance at his sword, he looked at her dazed form. She was unarmed. His features must have darkened in the chamber-light. His sword arched and bent – into his sheath with a practised motion. He snorted lowly in a mixture of doubt and disgust. His anxiety was getting the better of him, everyone was a suspect beside himself anyway. The girl herself was... sapless. She was soft but tough in her own way. He'd nearly forgotten that he risked his skin for her not even a chime ago. Hells, he'd even seen her get up groggily and net the crazed woman the black-maned man was feasting festively on. Nothing was making sense here, none of it did since they'd entered that place. Hardly a mercenary, he grimaced as he looked at her. Stick to whatever you're good at kid, you don't want to die in a place like this, or worse, he wanted to tell her. Besides, if she was working for or with the crazed attacks now littering the floor, she was ridiculously outnumbered now. In an earshot Akhen heard Old Joe complain, curse and complain again. For a myrian you sure sound off a lot don't you old man? Akhen thought grimly. He was still alive wasn't he? And Akhen was sure that the black-maned half-Zith would tend to him after gorging on the throat of his victim. Damn, Akhen thought with strained features. Was he and the black-maned man the only ones still able to move around without a problem? Hells, he himself wasn't even entirely sure if he could stand from his kneel and the loin-clothed boy wasn't looking all too stable himself now. His helmet must be ringing like the bells after that fiasco, the mercenary thought to himself gravely. With a pained snarl he propped himself up and took Aladari's arm in a vice, “Get up,” he ordered more than asked. Old Joe was complaining and cursing again. Akhen wiped a bead of grime from his brow and turned back to the girl. “Fucking bastards. What were they doin' in here anyway? We gotta get outta her--” something of a groan from the old man caused Akhen to look, bulging eyes and a outstretched arm caught the mercenary following the gaze. Gone! The whole wall was gone and replaced with a tapestry of gleaming glyphs! How?! Tick! – and the gale bit across Akhen's throbbing face like nettles! But that wasn't the worst of it. Suddenly they lurched! Akhen felt his soul tear out under his feet and roar back into his body when his back touched the ceiling. And instantly they fell! – somehow, there was instinctive jerking, a wild pulling on the limb in his grip. Head cradled to chest. Body nestled close. He whirled and slammed! The ground hurt more than a slashing sword. His side felt as if it were a chorus of pounding hammers. Blue. Black. Green. Violet. Unnameable – clashing colours filled his eyes and he wretched his head up awkwardly to expel a lungful of air and a gurgle some dried blood onto the stone floor violently. She was heavy, or did it feel like that because of the way the light splashed all over her features now? In his half-clearing sight he saw that the symbols had reformed and changed shape and was that... blood? Glowing blood? Akhen watched is it arched, swirled, circled and danced in a crimson light. He hadn't even realized that the far wall had slacked between the podiums. And what was--- Tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tuck-click! The ground roared thunderously! It wriggled between his shoulder-blades before he rolled away and kneaded a cloud of dust as a shrill pierced the room, and he stood up shakily with his ears covered. Akhen heard a voice over the violent torrent of noise and turned, his vision was still bleary and he could swear he saw the walls were coming together. Coming to crush them! His sight returned when he saw Old Joe cast the net toward Aladari and he snarled, “She's not a fish damnit!” he roared over the screeching walls. They were moving closer now! Akhen started, pain shot up his arm that felt like a thousand needles were dancing all over his skin, and he grasped the girl by the cuff of her shirt with the arm he'd collapsed on. He grit his teeth, twisted the fabric into a bundle and snarled! “Get up!” he reproached angrily and dragged! Whether she protested, Akhen heard nothing – he put all his concentration in the march toward the exit. The walls were so close now that he felt as if they were breathing down his neck! He neared, a sluggish looking blob came up in the light. The mercenary's leg lurched with a quick snap and his boot shoved soft buttock-flesh, “Move kid!” he jostled the helmet-wearing boy into the exit. He was sure he'd crumpled on the dirt with his knees but he opened his eyes and found his face flat against the surface. His groan was that of the undead rising. He forced himself to his knees, then his feet, wrenching his nettled arm to get the numbness out. A lazy pull at the shoulder and he felt the leather hilt of his sword. Who needed to die now? He half-asked himself with a distorted sight. Blue Vision? He found himself asking himself as if it really meant anything. He must have looked like gore, he reminded himself colourlessly...

[Aladari Coolwater]

It was all over much faster than Aladari could process.

There was death after death, with each member falling quicker than the last. She couldn't be sure that all of them were enemies either, but at the moment, she couldn't help either way.

She leaned her head back against the wall, then jerked it away hurriedly as she remembered how she had gotten the visions in the first place. The sudden movement sent her head swimming and her vision dancing with the lights, and sent her body sliding to the floor. She groaned loudly, but no one seemed to pay mind.

It wasn't more than a chime before someone came to check on her, though Aladari was so exhausted that she hardly knew who it was- let alone what they were asking. She moaned in response, hoping to let them know not to burn the body. Aladari faintly registered that there was a hand waving in front of her, and she slowly watched it move to one side with her good eye, but gave up when the strain on her eyes gave her pain.

Beside her, she could make out a voice. Joe griped plenty loud enough for the words to get through her foggy mind. "Isn't this some shyke. I'm bleeding, my hips busted, I got crazy people attacking me, I just had to gut a woman. Who do you think is going to have to clean all this up? Not you, let me tell ya. I'm too old for this shit."

Sounds like you've got plenty of breath left to complain about it, though, She thought, but said nothing due to her own lack of breath.

There was more talk which Aladari drowned out. She didn't have time for debate. She needed to recuperate first. Luckily, someone grabbed onto her arm tightly. This way, she would not get left behind. So, reassured, she turned to lay flat on her back, staring up at the ceiling. All of a sudden, there were exclamations all around her- clearly distressed. However, when Aladari blinked once to clear her vision and rolled over to view the source of their fear, she was met face-first with her own horror.

It was a woman, simply put. She was standing hunched over, her clothes singed and her eyes wide with panic. Her skin was blackened, and soaked in blood. Probably from the fight. Though the woman hadn't come in with the group, Aladari could tell from a glance that she harbored no hostility. She needed help; she said so with her eyes and her mouth both.

"Th- The lady..." She croaked.

She would have tried harder, had she not been interrupted by the stiff wind racing through the room. Wind? Inside? In Aladari's muddied mind, she had a hard time finding it even the slightest bit strange. Probably an illusion. Another hallucination. She only deemed it real when she felt the ground leave from under her.

Her body felt as though it had been scattered in all directions. Her legs swung out, flailing behind her, while her un-anchored arm nearly smacked her own face. The arm that was tethered to Akhen was what really saved her, though. He held her close, pulling her head into his body. He clung to her arm and kept her stable as her body swung one way and the world swung the other.

The sensation of flying was all new to Aladari. Unfortunately, she had no time to enjoy it. By the time she had gathered her bearings, they were plummeting again to the ground. The pair of bodies hit hard, though Akhen somewhat cushioned her own crash. She moaned nonetheless at the force of impact. She rolled off of Akhen, her normally shimmering aurora-blessed hair tangled and matting in the blood and gore as she did so. Beside her, Akhen retched.

For once, Aladari was the first one to see the shocking motion. The walls were shifting. They shifted and creaked in the stone, creating a horrible rucus and splitting a decent sized opening in one wall. Aladari tried to scream, to notify anyone, but she could make no sound. It was no matter- they heard the shift surely enough. What they didn't seem to hear was the woman's voice.

"Git on! We 'ave'nt got time! We stays, and we gets kil'd! Git on !"

Aladari watched with her mouth agape as the dirty, crying woman stumbled down the new hall. As soon as she had disappeared down the dark passage, a child crawled forward on his hands and knees. His face was burned and melting in a horrific slipping of skin, while his mouth hung agape in an eternal scream.

"Mama! Mama! I needs yer help! I cain't get goin' that fast! Come back Mama!"

But his mother was gone.

He slid to the floor, his skin dripping around him in a puddle mixed with his dark, burned brown blood. Aladari screamed in earnest this time, her voice coming through in her horror. There was noise all around her; Joe called out, but her blind eye did not see the net he tossed. Akhen gripped her shirt and growled in her ear. She heard not a word. She felt nothing.

She screamed for someone, anyone, to rescue the boy in a feverish manner. She waved her free arms and dug her feet into the ground, trying her best to reach him, but Akhen was many times stronger than her. He dragged her to safety. Out of steam, she stopped. She dropped to the floor, where she clawed and rubbed at her blind eye and cried for the boy they had left to die.

[Riluc Lorrani]

Riluc held on as he felt himself being thrown around by the dying man. There was a clear ring of the metal on stone. Riluc could hear it louder then anyone else despite the padding that helped dampen the ringing but the constant repetition contiuned to build up as he rolled on the ground clinging to the man he was killing. Rilic felt the man holding on to his ankles but he didn't fight it, instead he rolled with the man to avoid as much damage as possible. Finally it stoped the man going limp in Rilucs grasp.

His ears were still ringing and he felt a headach coming on as he pushed the large man off and to the side. His vision was a bit blurry but he could see that all of the crazies were dead, and scattered around the room. The young man could also see Aladari was lying on the floor again her eyes closed. The afro man was currently holding her in his arms teying to wake her. Riluc could see her breathing which helped him relax on that score and allowed him to focus on pushing the man off of him. He noticed the grosome seen occuring in the middle of the floor and was surprised by it. Having grown up among the wild dogs that typ of scene wasn't new, except that he hadn't ever watched a humanoid behave that way and not on a fellow human. A deep part of him said there was something wrong wit that, but the part that told him to get the dead guy off of him won. As he worked to first pull off his sling and then push off thee large man he listened to old Joe whine and complain about the mess. Riluc decided he didn't like the old man. He complained way to much for the quiet wilder.

Riluc was helped in his efforts by the floor moving. Riluc hadn't ever flown before and wasn't sure he like te senasation as they slammed upward into the ceiling and then slammed back down onto the floor. The down ward fall was what did him in. He managed to position himself so tat on his way down most of his body landed on the man, except his head which smacked hard onto the ground. The helmet and the padding saved his head from real damage, but the promised headach smacked full force into him.

With the impact Riluc's world turned upside down. His vision had become completely doubled possivle ecen trippled. He couldn't tell were anyone was as the room swam before him. Anyone looking at him in the face would see the his eyes had crossed and his expression had become a little vague. His mind had become closes down. Only the most basic of insticts were working.

He was working to get on his feet feeling that was safest but struggling as any semplampnce of balance was gone. Taken away by his head ringing. After what seemed like forever his body's natural training kicked in and adjusted for all the flailing limbs. He was still slow on the uptake and Joe's warning wasn't heard above the ringing in Rilucs ears, he did see the opening, doubled, and wanted out of the room, his insticts said rooms with crazies and droping floors weren't safe. He had no clue about the closing in walls. He was in luck though as his fellow fighter gave him a good hard kickon the rear, that sent him flying through the new door, to collapse on his knees beyond the entrance.

Riluc slowlly took his helmet off as he knelt there. The ringing lessoned with the helmet off and Riluc dropped it and clapsed his hands to his forehead afainst the pain of the headach. There he sat trying to regroup his wits so that he could think clearly.

[Anarkhos]

The voice screamed out for Chase to run, to escape, but it seemed not to work for some reason. The wild beast man was too far gone in his own primal instincts to listen. The other humans had escaped fine as the hairy beast man still latched onto the deceased crazed woman's throat feasting. "Chaaase!" the voice called out once more still to no avail. Even after the wind knocked them around, the one known as Chase only wished to finish his feast. The walls were closer now, this would be his only chance to safety, to live another day to tell the tales of his adventure. There was a high pitched scream from the woman that seemed to break through to the Zith who rose up now realizing the situation that he was in, but it was now too late. Blood still trickling down his chin he moved his legs, running as fast as he could, the walls ready to come together.

"Run boy, Come on!" Joe yelled at the winged man outstretching his arms with open hands filling with worry as the man literally ran for his life. The walls began to squeeze the Zith who in turn, positioned himself sideways to continue his advance. If the voice had eyes it would weep for the man. The only person who had a seemingly strong thread of communication, was now about to face the inevitable. The first thing to get snagged by the walls were his feet, causing him to fall only mere feet from the exit tunnel, his fingertips mere centimeters from the tunnels edge. A scream of pure pain pierced the air as his feet snapped with a shuddering "CRACK" followed by the gurgling of blood in his mouth as his ribs began to break under the sheer pressure before the walls finally came together leaving the blood of the Zith to seep from it's seams.

All was quiet afterwards and not a single person made a sound. "Fuck" Joe finally let out upset that another person died a gruesome death. Feeling around he picked up an old piece of wood, wrapping his shirt around the top of it and lighting it to create a torch. "What in mizahar's name is goin on here? You all are supposed to be makin sense of all this, so what is this? Don't you look at me like that." He snapped at the dark skinned mercenary. "I know what you're thinking. Old man brings ya in a temple and crazed people attack, weird shyke happening, the petching walls closing on ya, I tell ya true boy I had no part in this. Now that it be on my mind, how do I know one of you didn't set this up? He argued pointing fingers out at the group. "Yea it could be any of you. The mercenary that's always looking at shit like he's expecting something, the woman that coincidentally faints as soon as the battle starts and now she's seeing things. She's just as crazy as the one's that attacked us, and you." He pointed at Rulic. "You and that other guy sure did take down that big fella pretty easy, how do we know that you two planned all this? How far ya gonna get now that you're partner's dead?

The old man caught himself realizing that he was causing more trouble than good. Taking a breath, he went into his pockets fetching a crushed cigarillo lighting it and giving a few calming puffs before looking at the squished remains of Chase. Disgusting, almost made him want to vomit. Taking another puff he moved his injured side wincing in pain as he popped his hip back into place. He was sure that it was fractured if not shattered and that he would need to seek out medical attention as soon as they got out of where ever they were. It was an underground tunnel, natural not man made either. The ground was dirt and the ceiling and walls gave birth to large tree roots that moved throughout the large gaping hole. "Ah what's this be?" the old man inquired picking up a strange stone. "It seems like an ore of some kind, is this a mine?" Taking the item he shoved it into his pocket. Finding another stronger and taller stick, he hoisted himself up, looking at the group of could be deceivers for a plan.

Rewards :

For your amazing skills and teamwork you have been glanced upon by the lord of Chaos. Here I bestow upon you a gift from the pits of chaos itself.

Bloodstone ore: Like any other ore it can be forged into weapons, jewelry, other items and even utilized in clothing. However, it does come with side effects. Upon dripping one's own blood onto the item forged, the wielder will enter a berserk like state. Loosing all sense of pain and fear, one would be like an animal on the battle field aiming to kill their target until either it dies or they fall themselves. Visual effects include red eyes, enlarged veins and the inability to speak. Reward can be traded in for miza

[Akhen]

He couldn't make sense of it. All he could do was watch in a stupor; calloused hand clinched to leather, his mind racing, his body throbbing. Even Joe's words were lost in the chaos, in all that hellish disarray. The sounds were too deafening, each popping of flesh, snapping of bone, crushing of muscle, flesh and brains. Akhen had seen death in many forms and had dealt it in many more. Nothing was bound to disturb him anymore, right? He watched uneasily, angrily. His anxiety pitched when a shrill whipped into his ears and he wasn't sure whether it belonged to the ancient grinding stone, the girl or... CRACK! For first time in a long annal, Akhen felt his stomach knot. The carnage was too much and he turned, snarled, spat and swore. In the semi-darkness and long palpable silence, the mercenary could only guess as to what the faces of his remaining comrades looked like – comrades? is that what they were now? Aye, that is what they were. It was what any respectable mercenary would uphold as a code because they'd fought together not even a bell ago, they had even survived that fray but, one of them was now– “Shit...” was low, colourless hiss. Shoulders slacked but the rest of his muscles remained tense. Some scattering soon followed and light banished the blackness around them, then Joe began : “What in mizahar's name is goin on here? You all are supposed to be makin sense of it all, so what is this? Don't you look at me like that.” the words were directed at Akhen, they did little to calm him and only hardened the grim portrait he had. His jaws clenched. The old man was getting out of line. Akhen felt the hard leather of his sword's hilt bite into his palm. The raving continued. “I know what you're. Old man brings ya in a temple and crazed people attack, weird shyke happening, the petching walls closing on ya, I tell ya true boy I had no part in this. Now that it be on my mind, how do I know one of you didn't set this up?” his accusing finger made Akhen wary, even of himself for a moment. Joe retained his case, “Yea it could be any one of you. The mercenary that's always looking at shit like he's expecting something, the woman that coincidentally faints as soon the battle starts and now she's seeing things. She's just as crazy as the one's that attacked us, and you.” a gnarly, torch-lit turned to the boy. “You and that other guy sure did take down that big fella pretty easy, how do we know that you two planned all this? How far ya gonna get now that you're partner's dead?” There was, or what Akhen believed to be at the moment, a genuine worry in each one of the man's words and his frantic movements after made Akhen fall into a deep rumination. He was too tense to think clearly and the cigarillo’s harsh smoke make Akhen inch a hand toward the pipe he carried. Loosely, he fondled it and felt his heart hum in relief when he discovered it wasn't broken. He drew it out, touched it to his lip and tasted the wood before growling and shoving it back into its pocket. After yearning for Blue Vision for so long, he discovered he was too tense to even find comfort in the herb. His thoughts were too bitter and that made the pipe bitter too. The afro-haired mercenary turned and eyed the place they were in now, his thoughts a mixture of what he was observing and chewing over the old man's words. It looked like a tunnel, with thick roots bending and twisting through its entire structure. An underground root system? Were they under a tree or inside a tree? Was this some kind of natural edifice? And why did it join up with the Temple? Who had even built (if that was even the right word) it? How? When? – again, too many questions. Too many mysteries. Akhen tightened the grip on his sword. “Ah, what's this be?” the words drew Akhen's attention abruptly and he watched the old man pick up the strange stone, “It seems like an ore of some kind, is this a mine?” A mine? Akhen's thoughts wandered for a space. What kind of mine would be connected to the Temple? And if it was a mine it was bound to have a... “Joe–” the words were more of a growl than anything. Akhen was a man of many faults, his flaws were marked in everything he had spent his whole life doing and he never complained about it. He found no reason too. There was none to give anyway. “Give me the torch.” Whether the man was reluctant or not in passing on the torch, he was sure to feel the harsh pull of it when Akhen strode forward and took it. Akhen's arm tingled with fading numbness as he held the torch up, watching the flames dance and twist, turning toward any current of air that might be there. He came to the vanguard with his sword drawn, into the gaping darkness ahead. He realized that he was probably the only one still able to swing a weapon at the moment. “Do you know why I'm always expecting something old man? It's so I don't end up looking that guy over there,” he referred to the crushed mound spilling out behind them. “I've done this job for most of my life and never know when and how I may and will die, and to survive, I have to expect anything from anyone at any time. If you say you had nothing do with this, then pick up the damn girl and stay behind me. And you, boy--” The torchlight glint off the loin-clothed boy's helmet. “Guard the rear and stay close.” Akhen had made up his mind there and then. None of them were and could be responsible, one was dead, the other was dazed and two of them could barely even stand (and to top it all off, one of the pair was seeing things Akhen half-recalled as The Lady or the like). If they were trying to kill one another, they were doing a terrible job at it admittedly and if one of them was part of a ploy, he or she was outnumbered and just as lost as all of them were now. None of them were responsible, but someone or something is, he mused. And finally, he finished, saying : “I don't know what the hell is going on here and I'm damn well sure none of you do either. And if this rabbit hole's the way to the answer, I'm going to find out one way or another. Now stop complaining you old bastard and let's get out of here.” With those words, he took forward cautiously.

[Aladari Coolwater]

The sound of bones grating against stone and the squishing of flesh was enough to break Aladari out of her shock. She looked up, eyes dry and mouth silent as the walls came closing in. He had tried to make it- she could tell that he was running for it- but he had started a second too late.

What if I had been the one too slow? The thought chilled her to the bone. She knew she would've been the one too slow if Akhen hadn't grabbed her arm so tightly.

There was arguing around her, fingers pointed, eyes searching for something coming out of the dark. Aladari didn't listen. She was too busy thinking. The five...or six, seven? How many others were there? How mnay had died without her knowing they were even alive?

She shook off the thought.

However many of them had come in to find the slabs, to help the city of Sunberth. Now four of them were continuing...for what? It was no longer about Sunberth. It was about survival. And right now, made clear by the gore spreading about them, it was survival of the fittest. With one eye still clearing away static and her body weak, Aladari knew she wasn't the fittest by far. But if she wanted to survive, then she had to fake it.

When Akhen growled for the torch and pulled it from Joe's grip, Aladari mustered her strength and stood. Joe moved to help her, per his orders, but she waved him off. She had to find her own feet or she would never make it. She turned her gaze to Akhen's torchlight, which danced across the bloody stones in an array of lights and heat. The light was their only hope now. If it went dark, they were dead. Although nothing assured this, Aladari could feel the implications looming.

Morwen save us. And guide Chase's soul through the cold. She begged.

“I don't know what the hell is going on here and I'm damn well sure none of you do either. And if this rabbit hole's the way to the answer, I'm going to find out one way or another. Now stop complaining you old bastard and let's get out of here.”

Aladari nodded; the motion sent her head spinning, and something like fire danced at the edges of her vision, but she gripped the wall and stood as best she could. The flames A firm reminder pounded in her skull.

Survival of the Fittest.

[Riluc Lorrani]

Riluc knelt there, his head still ringing as he began to move away from the where he had collapsed. The ringing in his head was like a pounding of a hammer against his head, but it was beginning to fade so that he could actually begin to focus on the world around him. There was still a fog as he looked around. He could see the others more clearly and more importantly he could see the horror on the faces as they looked behind him.

Riluc turned around and felt his mouth drop in shock as he watched what was transpiring to the hairy member of the group. Riluc had witnessed a number of deaths on his time but this one was nasty and pointless. Riluc felt his stomach turn but he couldn't turn away from the sight. Even the headache couldn't steal the stage from the sight before him.

Riluc eventually closed his eyes and offered up a plea to His goddess for the soul the man who had just died. He continued to push past the headache as he offered the prayer. Once he was finished he was able to focus on the world around him. Joe was currently going off at them Riluc had missed most of it due to his headache. Riluc narrowed his gaze at the old man but didn't say anything but let the man continue his rant.

Riluc turned his attention away from the crazy and paranoid old but instead turned his attention towards strange ore in the mine. He held a piece in his hands still fighting the headache, but he watched the fight over the tourch. He carefully removed his helmet and stood to followat the back of the group. The tunnel was strange but the headache was still distracting so Riluc followed.

[Anarkhos]

It was dark, stuffy, and hot as petch. He felt like he'd been walking for days. Where were they going anyways? Joe opened his mouth to rant, but decided not to. Poor kids already had been through enough, shouldn't have to hear his old maw yap away with complaints any longer. This tunnel was a disturbing place to be in. He knew that there were mines that ran under the city, but he didn't know that they were tree roots as well. It was then that his foot came across a stone causing him to stumble and loose his makeshift cane.

"For fuck's sake!" He let out as he fell against the wall. He reached out into the darkness searching for his support to no avail. Taking his dagger, he felt the tunnel wall for a loose tree root before coming to one. The root was the exact opposite of what he expected it to be. Instead of being rough and solid, It was slimy and seemed to resemble a gel like substance. "What in gods name is this he thought to himself trying to keep up with the flame of the torch.

Etheral visions came about only to the eyes of Aladari. It was trying to warn them once more, but based on her last reaction to the visions, it wasn't sure if she would take this one so well. There was a woman and man running, carrying a child in their hands. They were afraid, scared. Were they being chased? The man said something to the woman that made her object and stomp her feet in disapproval, but still she obeyed the man's words and continued on. The man pulled his sword and began swinging, only to be taken down and killed.

Joe now at the back of the pack struggled to keep up. The pain in his hip torturing him with each step, but the thought of being left behind in this place scared him even more than any pain ever could hurt him. His skin crawled and the hairs on the back of his spotting neck stood, as if there was something wrong. He could feel it in his bones. He had the feeling before when they first began to move down the tunnel, but the dark skinned mercenary cut him off before he could finish his rant. His own fault for going off on them like that, but a place like this wasn't right.

There was the faint sound of stones being moved coming from behind him, turning his head to look, he only saw nothing but complete darkness. He looked back up towards the rest of the pack whom continued to walk unaware of anything. "Come on now Joe, keep it together" He whispered to himself shaking his head clear. His mind must've been playing tricks on him. They continued to move along as he heard the sounds once more faint upon his ears. Turning his head again he seen only darkness. He bit his bottom lip as the thought rested on his mind. He was old, too old maybe. Been coped up in the temple for years, he tried to make sense of it all, before he heard it a third time which told him it was all too real.

"Hey kid hold up for a tick!" Joe called out, leaning against the wall resting his back upon a slimy tree root. Kneeling down he felt around for a large stone, finding one and tearing a large piece of his shirt to wrap it in. Digging into his pockets he pulled out his matches, striking them and setting the cloth ablaze before tossing the wrapped stone back behind them. The ball of fire rolled upon the dirt covered ground before coming to a halt a few meters back setting something else up in flames, a man, a dead man, walking towards them. As the deceased man lit up, the contents of the tunnel came into view.

There was a good number of them, 10 maybe 11 if he had to count all rotting and torn with eyes cold as stone for those that had them. The walls were covered with blood, and what they thought were tree roots were really cells. Cells filled with dead bodies. Something moved behind the old man as arms came out and wrapped themselves around his frail body. Not wishing to have a repeat of last time, the old man forced himself to move, barely evading the hold. "Run!" He called out, the word being the most used of his vocabulary it seemed as he hobbled behind the group.

The dead army followed, stumbling forward and a surprisingly quickened pace. Not fast enough to catch them if they kept moving, but one trip, fall, or even a mere stumble may have been all it took. A cell to the right exploded sending liquid out onto the ground that sizzled and burned. Covering his head with his arms, he could feel holes forming in his clothes from the liquid.

[Akhen]

Not three feet ahead could be seen, even with the torch in hand. The light flickered and swayed this way and that but was nonetheless a dim ember that encapsulated the group behind him. The darkness swarmed about his waist and length of his sword had disappeared in a mire of blackness. His boots crunched the earth, snapping at what he was sure were decayed roots. He was cautious in the darkness, his mind set on a myriad of things all together unpleasant. He'd glanced back a while ago and saw the girl, Aladari, was on her feet, walking unassisted. He wasn't sure whether he felt pride for her stubbornness, or uncertainty for her condition. The boy followed behind them, he seemed to have gotten his bearings together and Akhen felt relief that he wasn't the only one who could fight if it came down to it. Joe had taken the rear and for a moment Akhen was sure he could hear the complaints lining his the old man's mind, eager to escape his tight lips. But the old man was quiet, they all were it in that ruddy inkiness they were in. Walls glistened in the dim light as a gelatinous shade of red and black that Akhen had taken as a result of moisture against that strange ore they'd seen. They walked the collective shuffle of feet moving carefully was broken suddenly. There was a snap, tumble and curses streamed suddenly “For fuck's sake!” Akhen stopped and turned the torchlight in the old man's direction. Joe was half illuminated and shifting about be he cried out abruptly “What in gods' name is this?” The mercenary sighed heavily and turned back. Damn old man's losing his mind, he thought as the light made the shadows bob and dance around them. As they kept a simple pace, a small chill wavered up Akhen's spine for a moment, scrapping sounds came up under his feet and behind them. There were more curses from the trailing old man as the party walked down and more of that strange, gnawing rippled up between the sell-sword's shoulders. “Hey kid hold up for a tick!” Joe had called, halting Akhen. The mercenary turned around for the third or fourth time, raising the torchlight over the heads of the party into absolute darkness. He saw Joe recline against the wall, felt the gnawing under his feet but shrugged it off. Joe, half-veiled between the dim, ugly light, disappeared and materialized as he scampered about the ground. A sense of apprehension hugged Akhen for a moment and the sword in hand raised instinctively. “Get behind me.” he said, seeing that the girl wasn't looking all to able at the moment. There was a clatter of stone and tearing of cloth bouncing off the rebelling abyss, the atmosphere was wafted by a stench Akhen knew all too well. Death – decay. “Get ready for anything kid,” Akhen lowered his voice, his muscles pounding. A ball of fire stirred between Joe's fingers like a wizard's spell and wobbled like comet into the gaping darkness they faced, it rolled sluggishly onto the ground. The small, indistinguishable ember danced venously. For a few infinite ticks there was silence... and the heavy stench of mouldy decay. Then there was, a wail... of fire and madness! Akhen clenched his sword as a burst of orange, ruddy light engulfed the tunnel. Light and fire blazed hellishly, gleaming off the dirty, ancient floor, and slimy, undulating – cells? Bodies, dead and rotting, were stuffed into the cells like tortured souls, their hollow, demonic eyes glaring at the group like a nightmare become reality. Akhen's own eyes widened, his heart drummed in his chest, his anxiety pitched to almost psychotic level. Was this a mine, or a tomb?! A thing, not wholly a woman but with the figure of one, stumbled behind Joe and its dead arms coiled and fondled the old man. The myrian wiggled out its grip and bolted. Akhen's sword arced and clinched through soft tissue and bone in a stroke not wholly controlled by himself. He didn't even feel himself move but knew he did. The sword slacked clumsily with the body whose skull it had rent asunder. The tunnel was still ablaze and a horde of lumbering cadavers marched toward the party, one swept its sluggish but powerful arms when it neared and Akhen moved back, his boot caught a dent in the ground and he tumbled. The undead thing plunged for the sell-sword whose arm swathed instinctively, the torch in his other hand caught rags and flesh and the thing burst into flames simultaneously! “Shit... shit!” Akhen snarled and pushed back to his feet. His sword was gripped loosely and the torch's light waned. Run. Run Run. Run! “Run!” Akhen repeated more to himself than the group behind him he saw the horde lurch not five feet away in a mad pace. Joe stumbled at the rear of the party and Akhen caught up, in a fluid motion he holstered his sword and took the old man from under the shoulder where his hip had been busted in one arm. He snarled, half-venomously, half-worriedly. The torch blazed half-heartedly. “Get moving old man, you're not dying today!” a cell burst and a shower of hot, corrosive liquid bit into their cloths as they pushed ahead of it. Akhen grit his teeth, found a workable running motion with the old caretaker and tossed a glance back. Those things were behind them and gaining quickly... A dark smirk, a mixture of pain, exhilaration and panic, touched Akhen's lips. All of it came flooding back to him. This was truly a nightmare... A real adventure. Just like in those books he read as a boy.

[Aladari Coolwater]

She was talking to herself in Vani. It was the only way she could think of to keep herself sane and keep the others unaware of her vulnerability.

"You can do it. You're stronger, smarter, more experienced than anyone here. You're up to the challenge. You will survive."

The internal pep talk faded, however, when Joe forced the group to a stop. She looked around mindlessly, waiting as he leaned against a wall, holding on to a protruding root. She watched the flame light up the rocks and dirt around them. The red rocks glowed intriguingly, and called to her to come touch them.

Aladari crept forward, reaching out to touch the rock. She tugged at a loose piece, hoping that she could store some in her bag to take with her. A chunk gave way in her hand, which she examined for a tick. It was smooth in some places, rough in others, and all-around enchanting. Her admiration was swiftly interrupted, however, by the flash of movement in the corner of her vision.

The woman moved forward quickly, a babe crying in her arms. She didn't seem to notice the child's wails. Instead, she focused on arguing with a man (the father?) unhappily. She visibly whined. Though Aladari could not hear them, she could see the desperation on the woman's face. The man urged her on, and she stomped her foot, but continued regardless. She glanced behind her one last time, fear all over her face.

Instinctively, Aladari looked back too. but all she could see was Joe, messing with a wad of fabric and some matches. She shook her head at him. Petching idiot. He's gone insane. She didn't realize how ironic the thought was.

By the time he had thrown the flaming ball behind them, though, she had forgiven Joe's insanity. The tunnel lit up in a huge flash of light, the creatures behind them bursting into flame. Aladari screamed, but was cut off by Akhen's hands firmly pushing her out of the way.

"Run!"

The command was hardly necessary. Aladari felt her feet itching with the urge, and so she stumbled away as quickly as possible. She may not have been fast, but she had a chance if she got a head start. "Get moving old man, you're not dying today!" She laughed at the statement in an increasingly delirious manner. Her laughter bounced off of the walls, and persisted through the splatters of venom bursting from the walls.

Undead monsters. Poisonous alien cells. With the way the adventure was going, she wasn't sure what she expected, but it certainly wasn't this.

Aladari stumbled over a root, slipping forward and plunging a hand into one of the cells on the walls. It popped and hissed, eating away at the skin on her hand. She hissed in pain, but the sharp burning gave her an idea. She stopped abruptly, turning to face the creatures. Ignoring any noise that might be made by the others, she waited. She waited until the monster was close enough that she could see the veins under his skin, and smell the burning, rotten flesh. Once it was close enough, she bent down and tugged hard at a slimy root, pulling it taut. It tripped almost comically, flailing its hands as it fell. Its stray hands reached out and pierced a cell, causing a spray of acid to rain down.

Aladari was not in its direct line of fire this time, but the undead was not so lucky. It shrieked as the acid bit into his already thin skin, burning through his flesh. Aladari grinned and laughed triumphantly. She looked around to see if anyone had spotted her ingenious idea, and to ensure it, she shouted, "Aye! Don'tcha worry! They's easy!"