Nebet led Amen through the twisting corridors, avoiding the traps and through the illusory walls. For the most part they walked in silence. Nebet had nothing much to say, and though she would have liked to consult Amen a bit on the feelings for his father. She wasn't sure, but she felt like he didn't have much love for the man. Understandable, really, but hate wouldn't do good for the pharaoh. A pharaoh should be above such things and letting his personal feelings get in the way of doing what is necessary. Of course...Amen would likely heavily disagree with such a statement.

So she remained silent, standing outside of the room to give Amen a bit of privacy. Though, eavesdropping was something she couldn't help but to do. Perhaps she should speak to him about this after they return after all? Thutmose did the best he could, considering the circumstances and what she knew of the situation. At least he was motivated she supposed, but being motivated by hate, revenge, and similar feelings only would cloud ones judgement eventually. Perhaps not, though...only time would tell, really. She pushed such thoughts from her mind at the moment, though. The priestess merely sighed as she waited, gazing down the empty stone hallways. She wondered if she should just ditch the Pharoah. He could find his way out, right? It'd also be kinda funny. Wouldn't be the first time she...left one of her companions on their own in the middle of a trap-ridden tomb for giggles.

The thought brought a small smile and a quiet chuckle from the priestess just as Amen finished paying his respects. On their way back, she remains silent as ever, at least until Amen speaks to her. There were so many problems with what he was asking, it was actually quite funny. Not that he really knew why, though.

"Pharoah Amen," She chuckled, shaking her head. "If I were to 'tell you like it is' I would likely be out of a job and back on the streets as a t-" Before she could finish that thought though, her eyes widened in surprise. A knife came flying from the shadows. She hadn't been using a single ounce of her magic to possibly detect intruders since she had been rather distracted. She ground her teeth together. She had been careless, if Amen had been standing even a few inches closer he'd be dead on her watch.

"I missed. I don't usually miss."

...that voice seemed familiar. Amen and the assailant exchanged brief words, the priests and priestesses being safe was a small comfort given their situation. As the assassin spoke, though, she couldn't help but to try and place the assassins voice. Lady Nebet? It was either Priestess or simply Nebet usually. Who would...?

"It's me, Yunre! After all this time... I never thought I'd see you alive again."

"Apologies, Pharoah Amen. This is an old," She hesitated for a moment. "Friend of mine." Her eyes narrowed at Yunre. She took a step forward, placing the head of her Fan Axe between Amen and Yunre. "Yunre. I would have hoped you would have cleaned up your life a little. Judging from the circumstances, I assume you are here for the Pharoah's life? Out of respect for our former relationship, I would honestly dislike fighting you. So I am giving you fair warning. I would advise you to leave and cease this foolishness, old friend. If not," She brandished the weapon, holding it in both hands and pointing Yunre. "Then I will drag you to prison myself and I won't be able to save you this time."

Out of all the things that could happen, this was on the list of 'worst possible things' scenarios. Not that she wasn't confident in her ability to defend Amen and herself from Yunre, quite the opposite. With the both of them she was quite certain they could handle him as long as they didn't get careless. This was a much more personal matter than Nebet wanted. Out of all the outcomes, she had never expected to fight her former friends in a manner such as this. It would hurt more than a little if she had to carry out that promise.

Judging from that smile Yunre was giving though, surrendering wasn't even on the list of things he was going to be considering.

Zamonth

Zamonth did not even need to consider Qar's statement as he had decided it would be best to find Amen the moment he was attacked. Unfortunately, he did not know the layout of the palace very well, not even where Amen's room was. There was no telling where he would be and even if Zamonth knew, he would not know how to get there. So the only option was to go with Satiah's plan.

"Yeah, I'll try. But best we all keep one just in case." Taking a few steps from the table he and Qar were dining at, Zamonth slowly began to roll his head around in a circular motion. "Because there is another hunger I've been needing to satisfy."

The masked opponents had begun to surround Zamonth now that the people had run from the scene. But he did not charge them. As they brandished their blades and ensured he had to no exit, Zamonth rolled his shoulders back before stretching out his arms in various directions. One of the ambushers was gradually narrowing in on him now.

"You're playing with us?" The masked man wielded a hilt with a blade on either end. He twirled it between his fingers eagerly before sidestepping several times and bounding forward with swift movement. Approaching from Zamonth's side, the man spun his blade and sliced through the air from side to side as he ran straight for him. "I'll kill you rig-" His words were cut off as he thrust his blade forward now, aiming to slice through straight through Zamonth's head, but failing as Zamonth ducked the moment the blade stopped spinning and started moving for his head. The attacker had a split second to think of bringing down the other end of his blade, but Zamonth reacted quicker than he had time to actually do so. While crouching Zamonth had simultaneously twisted his body and retracted his left arm to prepare for a punch that now drove right into the man's xiphoid process. Blood oozed from behind the man's mask as Zamonth grabbed the dual bladed weapon, momentarily frozen as life slipped from its wielder's body.

Wasting no time, Zamonth took the group of attackers by further surprise; he cranked back his armored right arm and threw the weapon like a javelin. Its target had a brief moment to contemplate death but not enough to escape as the blades cut through the air and pierced his chest within the blink of an eye. The weapon appeared to be launched from Zamonth's hands like an arrow from a bow. Realizing that not even a three man attack would bring their target down, the group unanimously decided to attack at once. They all erupted into full sprint, intending to overrun him with a barrage of attacks.

Once the first five were upon him, two leapt into the air with their blades raised while the other three went to strike low.

"So now you all realize your lives are actually at stake here? Hahaha!" Zamonth was not phased at all, but simply laughed and continued to do so as the first attack commenced. The airborne assassins were the first to come within striking range, appearing from opposite sides. Taking a deep breath, time seemed to slow down for Zamonth as he twisted his body and bent his knees. Then his arms surged out and grabbed the assassins by their heads before their blades could meet his flesh, the intense force on their skulls immobilizing them immediately. Now he let his body unwind as he spun himself and the paralyzed assassins in his grasp, their masks actually helping him to keep his grip. The rest of the attackers were subsequently smashed with the limp bodies of their comrades, forced down into the sand. The rest of the party continued the assault, two more assassins slashing over the bodies of their fallen allies with long blades, keeping a moment between their attacks to avoid the same fate as those before them. Zamonth turned his head and fixed his eyes on the nearest blade approaching from behind him before throwing his arm backwards, his arm guard snaring the blade in its scales. Zamonth then flexed his arm so that his arm guard pushed against the blade until it snapped and fell to the ground in pieces. In one flowing motion, his left arm also came around to collide with the assassin's temple. Paying no more attention to the assassin as he staggered to the side and fell face first to the floor, Zamonth whirled around to face the second blade coming for his throat. Inches away from stabbing him, Zamonth did a short uppercut jab that caused his arm guard to smash with the second assassin's blade. The vibration and force from the impact caused Zamonth's foe to lose his grip and allow his blade to soar up into the air.

The assassin's head tilted up and could see Zamonth's icy cold eyes, contradicting his grin and laughing earlier. "W-wai-"

The word had barely escaped his lips as Zamonth drove his elbow straight into the man's trachea, causing his body to buckle as he choked. Zamonth could hear the footsteps of the next attacker, and so he grabbed the dying assassin before him by his shoulders and then tossed his body to the side. Another assassin had been waiting for the opportunity to get the jump on him, but now his ally's body was thrown into his blade, its sharp edges slicing into the man's back and disarming the assassin. In this moment, the assassin realized he was outmatched and turned to run. But Zamonth was upon him like an a crocodile speeding out from a river, refusing to let his prey escape into the safety of the jungle. He reached out and grabbed him by his collar before tossing him up into the air. As the assassin fell, Zamonth pulled his arm back once again and his fist fired like a boulder from a catapult, meeting the assassin's torso and sending him flying with a trail of blood behind him. The assassin's body fell atop another fleeing member, but there were another four running behind him.

"Where are you going? I thought this was a fight to the death."

Zamonth raised his right hand.

"Ice Sheet."

The air started to sparkle and crystallize as moisture in the air was frozen in an instant. An icy blue cloud burst from thin air in front of Zamonth's hand and moved straight for the sandy desert floor. The sand froze immediately, creating a slippery floor that spread faster and faster in the direction of the fleeing assassins. Chairs, tables, and stalls were frozen to the ground as the icy floor spread beneath them and caught up to the assassins. One moment they were running and in the next they began sliding as they lost their balance. Zamonth began running himself before he jumped onto the ice and with the momentum slid across the icy floor and over to the assassins who had now stumbled onto the ice. Ceasing to slow down, Zamonth raised one leg and as he approached the assassins kicked one in the head as he tried to regain his footing, neck snapping. Another reached for his blade on the ground but Zamonth placed his boot on top and brought his fist down into the assassin's face.

Two assassins were left now, desperately trying to crawl away as Zamonth disposed of their allies. Walking over to them with no loss of balance, Zamonth reached down and grabbed them both by their heads.


"And where do you think you're both going? You and your buddies signed a death pact today."

And with that he smashed their heads together and let them fall to the floor of ice, blood staining its surface. Completely tearing apart their attack, Zamonth turned and began making his way back over to the assassin he had immobilized with another's dead body. Winded by the blow, he was only now able to start to try and free himself. It was then that Zamonth heard Satiah's voice and remembered she wanted one alive.

"Doing quite alright." He shouted back nonchalantly. Looking over in Satiah's direction, he could see more masked assassins entering the area. "Guess it's not your lucky day after all." He was standing beside the pinned assassin. Seeing that there were more opponents to be fought, he raised his boot and crushed the assassin's throat. Finished with his side, he made his way over to Satiah and Qar.


"Do you know who these guys are?" He questioned as he took a position behind Satiah.

By now the crowd had dispersed and Qar could see clearly who their opponents were. Still numerous, all masked and wielding wicked looking blades with intention clear in their bearing they advanced on the trio. Qar had watched Satiah and Zamonth crush their opponents, wondering at their skill and brutal dispatching of the assailants. He knew that in this situation he should not feel the loss of life so but, as a healer, he could not but help wish there had been some other way. He himself had killed another couple of blade wielding assassins, their skulls caved in with the vicious weight of his magic. At least their deaths had been quick and relatively painless.

“Everyone alright?”

Satiah called out, backing up to their original position. Her robe was torn but she did not appear to have suffered any physical harm beyond that, Qar suspected she may have used the robe itself as a weapon judging by the skill with which she had killed her opponents but he had been too busy himself to pay attention. Zamonth, the towering Zamonth, also joined them, standing behind Satiah as they all gaze out at the surrounding masks.

"Do you know who these guys are?"

It was a good question and Qar had numerous theories and ideas, all half-formulated as he dropped them to focus on staying alive. There was no answer worth giving, however. As Satiah had said, they should try to take one alive. Preferably the leader, if there was one within the group facing them, so that they could find an answer to that question. Staying alive, though, was the first and foremost task.

Two masked attackers darted forwards ahead of their comrades, either trying to prove themselves or hoping their fellows would join in the charge. If they all attacked at once they may have been able to overwhelm the three with their sheer numbers but instead they split into groups and attacked intermittently before falling back, regrouping and trying again. These two were quick, probably quite young, and charged straight at Qar with no attempt to circle around. Seeing his robes and the elaborately carved staff, they probably assumed him to be the weakest of the trio which was probably true but nevertheless they were underestimating the physician.

The first lunged with their blade and Qar leaned sideways, gripping the man's wrist between his arm and his side and head butted the masked face. Although the blow made his head ring, his magic made the force of the blow sufficient to crack through the mask and shatter the man's, Qar noticed he was a young man after all, skull. A split second later the second assailant arrived, unconcerned by his fellow's death and swung his blade in a wide arc in the hope of taking Qar's head.

Pivoting, the physician swung the bloodied corpse into the assailant, the blade swinging a mere inch from his eyes as the body interrupted the second man's charge. Off balance, the man stood no chance as Qar swung his staff down, slamming the man head first into the ground and then burying his head through it. Looking up for the next attacker, he noticed the enemy grouping up for a charge with no civilians left immediately around them. No longer hesitant, with a slight case of battle rage upon him, Qar pointed his staff at the group.

"Star Fall."

The magic he hated for its destructive nature, so far removed from his personal mission, served him well in that moment. A fiery orb appeared from the heavens, like a star falling from the sky, hence its name, and crushed down on the group in a rush of heat and roaring flames. Dust and heat crashed upon the trio in a wave, the blast from the magic spreading out although its effective radius was contained to a small area.

When the dust settled the group that had been assembling was no more, charred corpses scattered around a blackened patch of earth. Qar sank to his knees, using his staff for support as he felt the weight of magic drain his energy reserves. There were still plenty of enemies around them but he hoped they would soon scatter in the face of the magic he and Zamonth had shown, as well as the calculating slaughter Satiah had exacted upon her assailants. With an effort he pulled himself up to his feet, now having to rely upon his magic to lend any force to his future blows.

"We should finish this soon. I know they can handle themselves but I still worry for the Pharaoh and the Priestess. If either is injured I would like to find them as soon as possible."