The crummy steps of Lazarus and the two hunters-in-training reverberated through the long hallway, accompanied by the crackling sound of the dredged up debris bits that used to form a neat marble floor, getting crushed under their feet. It was rather amazing how easily the place turned into shambles after the rather short scuffle Willo had with the sickened creature. The blood trail, however, was still strikingly visible.

Lazarus instead entered the armory, opposite of the door where the trail ended, which also held the puzzle intended to allow passage through the now defunct barrier rune. A few seconds of peering at the rune on the wall and he glanced at Willo over his shoulder.

[color=a187be]“Nothing. . . and a smile.”[/color] He revealed to her.

After another gander at the rune Lazarus turned around and walking in-between Willo and Jonathan, exited the armory. Walking up to the door on the other side of the hallway he merely waved his hand, urging the two to follow him.

[hr]

Alexander found himself surrounded by a bright light. In an instant that brightness turned to darkness, with a mere crack in what appeared to be a canopy of murkiness. Alexanders eyes instinctively followed the light from its source to not far in front of him. There laid Larion, every extremity of his shackled with rusty chains. 

The beam of light that fell unto Larion began narrowing and Alexander could feel dread overtaking him for some reasons. He didn’t know why, but he felt like that wasn’t supposed to happen. He was afraid the light would go away altogether.