Gruncle Jaege slides the cabinet towards the redead to trip it while it's distracted by being on fire, then whacks it with the hammer. Veitaru stabby times the wallmaster heading for Jaege.

Archer did not go with grace and dignity, when his time to dance with a Wallmaster came. He had been putting his whole into firing back volleys against the Poe in the room with him, on the assumption that the less magically inclined of them would be fighting off those mortifying spider-hands – but when he felt the strength of one sealing itself about him, he realised how silly that assumption had been. And had he been anyone else, he didn’t doubt the fear would have winded him.

But he was Archer Anders, the biggest drama queen Castle Town ever chewed up and spat out: and he made sure everybody knew it.
In those few instants before his abductor finished wrapping its clammy digits around his mouth, Archer bellowed: "Magus, this is your fault, you useless, cucco chasin’ son of a- mmf! Mrnf!”, before being wrenched suddenly and brutally upwards and into the ceiling.
And the entire way he squirmed, kicked, and yelled into the cold, dead skin of his attacker. He tried to twist his way out of its powerful grip, to no avail, and then tried to strike a fire right there in its palm, instead, but couldn’t draw the breath. In fact, he couldn’t draw any breath. And what little energy he had, he squandered on fruitless attempts at escape.
Until, bordering on unconsciousness, he heard his brother’s words, tone-neutral and so characteristically condescending: “Be like water.”
Archer let his body fall limp.

Flump. Bang!
He felt himself drop like a sack of lumpy potatoes- surprisingly handsome potatoes, but potatoes with wounded pride- as he went crashing into the strange, soft floor of the Sheikah temple. The ground gave nicely, actually, but as he stared up, bleary-eyed at the ceiling, he realised he felt somebody’s elbow jammed into his lower-back.
Startled, Archer leapt back to his feet – then stumbled awkwardly a few steps forwards, before twisting around and igniting some frankly pitiful fires about his quivering fists. He would need to regain control of his breathing before he could conjure anything decent again, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop panting. Still, the charade went on: "Haah… back for round two, are you? This time I’ll show you how… haaah… an Anders… ah, Goddesses, you’re one’a us, aren’t you?”

Archer felt the fight leave him all at once, and he slumped back against the wall behind himself, eyeing the bars across the way. Muscles burning, an awful cloying in his mouth.
He was quiet for a moment, maybe the longest he’d been quiet in his natural born life, and then once he’d caught his breath, he gestured to the wall of bars between the pair of them and freedom.
"So, uh. I'm Archer. What’re you in for?”

The blood soaked into the stone as before. Instead of fading away, however, the blood ran all the way to the edge of the platform. All at once, a long bridge appeared, no longer only visible in the reflective surface of the blade that continued swinging before them. They would have to be mindful while crossing if they wanted to avoid getting sliced in half.

Lethe was the first to step onto the bridge, albeit with much more caution than before. If she was relieved when her body didn't immediately fall through the stone, Lethe didn't show it. With a toss of her hair, she moved forward, waiting for the first scythe to swing by before continuing on her way.

"HAhahahAHAHaHAhAHahaHAAHAHaAHaAHAAhaHAahahahaha!!"

As Zephyrus, bringing up the rear, cleared the first scythe, a harsh cackle filled the room. The raucous noise caused the very walls to shake. Lethe stopped to try and keep her balance as the bridge trembled.

Shadows with seemingly no light source began to appear along the bridge-- concentrated near the platform from whence they'd come. The sentient, oversized hands fell in droves, forming a mass so thick the platform could scarcely be seen.

"RUN!" Lethe shouted, dashing past the second blade and towards the false wall at the other end of the room.

Left Tunnel Group

The ReDead ceased to move after being crushed by Noi's hammer, leaving the rising the flames inside the room as the only remaining threat. The large cabinet filled with its own assortment of flammable objects was entirely engulfed in flame. It snapped and crackled for a moment before it finally fell. It crumbled backwards through the wall, disappearing from sight.

On the other side of the false wall was yet another ceilingless corridor. At the end was a room with a large, ornate door. An equally ornate and large lock prevented anyone from trespassing. The door and lock would prove durable enough to withstand any attempts to get through without a key. Upon closer inspection, the door was certainly old, but seemed somehow different from the surrounding stone. The crest of the Royal Family decorated the door as well as the lock.

Smoke trickled from the burning room they left behind. Turning back did not seem to be an option.

As quickly as the weight appeared, it was gone. Trying to regain her stolen breath, Felicia quickly rolled away in the opposite direction. She noticed a sudden spark of light through the blurriness of pain, fear, and confusion that currently occupied her disoriented thoughts. She stared long and hard at the fire wielding figure before finally realizing who it was.

Archer, she remembered. The name found its way into her head just before he seemed to realize she wasn't someone he should be hurling fireballs or threats at. He relaxed his posture and introduced himself, cracking a joke of some sort. But before she could respond her eyes fell on something beside him. Something that was also leaning up against the wall. Something that had just moved.

Shakily, her hands moved towards the hilt of her sword as she shifted her feet beneath her, moving from her knees into a low crouch. There were four skeletons up against the wall the man was currently leaning against. The one immediately to his right had definitely just moved. She glanced at Archer just as it moved again. Its skull turned to face him and her breath caught in her throat-- she needed to warn him, but couldn't find the words. Felicia unsheathed her sword quickly, just as the creature began to raise its bony fingers towards the man's throat.

Everything suddenly happened at once. "Look out!" she screamed, swinging the blade diagonally towards the skeleton with her eyes squeezed shut. The blade crashed through several rib bones, but was stopped suddenly when the monster took hold of the end, giving it a powerful yank. She barely managed to hang on. The three other skeletons seemed to take that as their cue as they all shambled to their feet. Their teeth clattered unnervingly.

As Lethe took the lead of their journey onto the bridge, Zephyrus used the fabric rag he’d taken from his guandao to wrap his wound. It was red as blood, anyway – and useless indoors, as its only purpose was to guide Zephyrus to the wind.
He tied it tightly, and hoped that would be enough. If not, he would have to ask Archer to look at it later – rudimentary as his knowledge of healthcare was, it was more than Zephyrus was familiar with.

He brought up the party’s rear quietly, head raised and eyes sweeping, skeptical. This temple had partaken of his blood, and the blood of his ancestors, or their enemies, and yet he knew it not. Perhaps he was the first Anders to ever set foot in here, but it seemed just as likely that he was only the most recent.
He stepped past the first blade with ease, movements light and smooth, like a dancer. There was a surprising calm, in these first few moments, but he didn’t put much faith in it. Water can be still one moment, and cresting a wave the other, all at the whims of the wind.

"HAhahahAHAHaHAhAHahaHAAHAHaAHaAHAAhaHAahahahaha!!"
Oh. There it is.
Zephyrus didn’t look back after he’d seen the shadows. Whatever they were, it was irrelevant to him, what mattered was escaping.
He lowered his head, and started forwards at a pace, nearly colliding with the arc of the secondary blade, and blasting himself past it with a sudden rush of air at the last moment. Moving like a dancer, still – twisting around Jillian as he moved, in that instant driven by instinct.
He tried not to panic, he knew himself competent enough to survive in a place like this. He just needed to focus on his footfalls, on such a narrow bridge. Much of it was muscle memory.
He did pray, however, that Archer wasn’t in any sort of similar danger.



Archer wasn’t sure whether he’d started screaming because of the skeletons, or because Felicia had come swinging at him with her eyes tightly shut, but he did know one thing: he was screaming, and it was loud.
In a sort of frenzied panic, and bouncing off the few moments Felicia had bought him by distracting the closest skeleton, Archer raised his arm and drove his elbow into its jaw with as much might as he could muster – which wasn’t much, given the prior ordeal- then chopped out at the skeleton’s elbow with his other hand, hoping to break its grip on Felicia.
He scrambled hurriedly to his feet, graceless but successful, which was the Archer way.
Then, as his long bout of abject, terrified shrieking passed, Archer jabbed his fingers accusingly at their new attackers, indignant and arrogant, "I am already sick of this place!”

He took a long, shaking breath, brought his arms up into a defensive position, and then threw them down to his sides again, as loops of spitting flame coiled themselves around his fists. Fear gave way to anger, anger at being made to be afraid.
"Bring it, I’m gonna kill you all again! Hya!”
Archer duked into the air, hurling bolts of flame in the direction of the other as yet unattended to skeletons and catching their dry old bones alight.
"Ashes to ashes, dust t- huh?”
However, they kept advancing, burning but unvanquished, each their own smouldering pyre of bone and fire.

Archer was screaming again.

Jillian shrugged off her disapproving companions after poking Zephyrus, “You’re welcome, I solved another puzzle. What would you lot do without your fearless leader?” The smug attitude came without restraint once again, she crossed her arms nodding. “We still have that keystone to find and our goron buddy, whatshisname. Hogsomethin’. Whatever, he must be pretty smart. Powerin' through all these puzzles. Gotta hand it to boulder brains.”

She followed behind Naviela, with Lethe at the lead. She couldn’t help another chorus of giggles at Lethe’s wariness. It was curious blood magic at work, she had never really seen it happen up close before. She figured the others were just as clueless as her with the workings of the weird temple. Everything about the place was mystics, mirrors and memory. Well outside her understanding of things. Jillian was no stranger to dark corners of the world, she occupied a pretty spooky place herself in the Lost Woods. This sort of dread produced in the Sheikah temple was something else entirely. Made her skin itchy if she let her mind wander.

The bridge appeared good and solid this time, with correct timing they made it past the first scythe still on the back of her puppet. A little tricky but Jillian controlled the puppet with short commands.

The cackling voice from the riddle resounded seemingly from all sides, loud enough to give Jillian pause to take a look behind them. Zephyrus already danced around her before she fully registered the ensuing wave of wallmasters, the first scythe swung past her field of vision, briefly cutting her view of the hands for a second. Alarmingly they crossed the platform, scuttling above and below the bridge fully intent on their closest target. Jillian herself.

“MOVE! MOVE! MOVE!” She shouted at the puppet slamming her fist against the back of the wooden head. Fear clenching her stomach, her eyes glued to the mass of shadowy hands. The puppet without proper guidance to time the swing of the second scythe, mechanically shot a line of twine forward weight shifting to move only for the return of the scythe to cut the line. The puppet’s support crumpled forward, sending Jillian off its shoulders with a clumsy tumble.

“Oof!”

She looked up in time pushing her hat out of her face to see her companions make it across to the other side. “Don’t leave me! Help! Please!” Terror turning the pitch of her shouting into screams.

Dozens of hands groped her legs, arms, head and anything they could find purchase with. Snatched away, Jillian disappeared into their clutches. The light from the lantern was smothered out by shadows. The noise of her scream went out with the light, sudden quiet.



Jillian panicked, her little heart racing. There was no up or down. She couldn’t see a thing, the hands felt cold and they were anything but gentle. She was forced to one pair of hands to the next. Pulling, pushing her unknowingly towards the little cell the wallmasters had dumped Felicia and Archer in. Unceremoniously she was flung through the ceiling, below where fiery skeletons lit up the area, thanks all due to Archer’s quick thinking.

Jillian hadn’t a second between panic attacks, the heat of the skeletons jolted the small skullkid into scrambling away as fast she could, hissing incoherently. Backing up directly against the bars of the cell, she automatically climbed up as far as she could go. Clinging for her life.

Felicia's terrified screams formed a shoddy duet with Archer before she managed to clamp her mouth shut. Archer broke the skeleton's grip on her sword. She scrambled backwards and to her feet, suddenly realizing that the monster's forearm was still soundly latched onto her blade.

"Eugh!" she frantically shook it off, looking up just as she heard the sudden FWOOSH of flames. The dismembered forearm clattered across the room, picked up by the skeleton who'd lost it. With body language that seemed to suggest annoyance in spite of its perpetuating smile, it reattached the arm and inched closer with the others, teeth chattering.

Instinctively, her free arm shot out across Archer's chest, urging him to back up and get behind her. Obviously his fire magic wasn't going to work... er... hadn't worked. In fact, it'd made these ten times worse. Not his fault. He didn't know. She herself didn't know exactly why she was motioning for Archer to get behind her either. She had no idea what she was going to do, but... well, she had to do something.

Hardly thinking, Felicia grabbed her water skin. She hastily unscrewed the top and thrust it towards the flaming skeletons. It pitifully splashed across the nearest sack of bones, but the amount of water was little more than a mouthful. She forgot she'd used up most of it cleaning the wounds from the bats. Suddenly something came hurtling out of the wall Felicia and Archer had come from, plopping onto the ground between them and the skeletons before hissing and scrambling up the bars of the cell.

It was Jillian! Felicia had always been good with names and Jillian was one she wouldn't soon forget. She was a Skullkid. Felicia knew very little of the creatures other than they came from the Lost Woods. As such, you weren't really supposed to see them-- since people were generally encouraged not to go anywhere near there. Nonetheless, something about Jillian awoke something inside of her in that moment. As the skeletons briefly turned their attention towards the Skullkid clinging to the bars, Felicia took a deep breath and adjusted the grip on her sword, tossing her empty water skin aside.

Get it together, Felicia. You know how to use this thing. Now stop being useless and USE IT!

"HYAGH!" Felicia swung her sword across the nearest skeleton with as much strength as she could muster, successfully cleaving the creature in half at the spine. She repeatedly stomped her boot down on the skull as it angrily clattered at her from the floor, putting out the flames while causing the head to cave in on itself.

A second skeleton took a swing at her then. Its flaming fist narrowly missed her cap as she ducked, swinging her sword at the creature's knees and stabbing it through the skull as it made a grab for her ankles. Now infuriated as well as inflamed, the remaining two skeletons collapsed in on her before she could raise her weapon for another blow.

“Don’t leave me! Help! Please!”
Zephyrus felt an icy horror about his chest, a cloying dark about his heart - truly, that scream haunted him more than any creature of shadow had. But it was already too late. He tried, in those last few instants, to turn and strike out - a gust of air broke against their attackers' knuckles, but there was too many of them, and no time to spare. He wasn't sure what it was that spurred him on towards helping this loud liability, but on some level deep beneath a carapace of feigned indifference and a practiced calm, the older brother in him cried out. But he could do nothing more than that. On the surface, Zephyrus was mute, save for his parting words. Quiet, soft. Inaudible among the chaos.
“I'm sorry.”
He leapt, backwards, into the false wall.



Archer felt strange, when Felicia put her arm out in front of him. It was the first fight in a long time, he realised, in which he didn't have Zephyrus for backup. He complied with her, of course, backing away to give her space - waiting until he could stop shrieking and start fighting. But something about the protective gesture made him feel just a little safer, a little more willing to get back into the fray. So long as he had some backup.

He exhaled. Ran a hand through his hair, clotted with curls and sweat, now.
"Calm down, Archer. Where's your head at?"
He took another deep breath. Trying to find his calm, trying to find his fight.
"Alright... alright, I think I'm ready to-"

That was when something else fell out of the ceiling, something small, and strange, scuttling past him and up the bars.
Oh no, they were back.
"aaaAAAAAA"
Archer freaked out. Which might well have been the right move for him to make. Keeping calm, he realised, was something that worked when Zephyrus had his back. But without that rehearsed duality, he thrived best on pure instinct. No calm, running water. No gentle evening breeze. Fire. A huge, churning fire, building in his stomach, in the pit of his gut.
He was spurred on. By fear, by fire, by Felicia and her own display of strength and bravery. As they piled in on her, he jumped, and brought his elbows down on the tops of their heads.
"I'm gonna cremate you boney bastards!"

Emerging on the other side of the false wall, Zephyrus and Naviela were greeted by a remarkably average looking room. Compared to their previous settings, anyway. The hands did not pursue them through the passageway-- why was anyone's guess. A peak through the wall again would quickly reveal that the last of the Wallmasters were skittering back up the wall and into the dark abyss above. Perhaps little Jillian was enough to sate their hunger-- assuming Wallmasters ate at all.

The room wherein they now stood did in fact have a ceiling, however. A very high ceiling, but at least you could see it. Two lit torches hung on each of the four walls. As with the rest of the temple, there were no windows. But also no doors. At the rooms center, an ornate pedestal stood erect. Ancient Sheikah glyphs writhed around its surface. If the images were meant to tell a story, it was incomprehensible-- resembling something closer to a mass of stone worms slithering around the column.

A glorious red stone sat atop the pedestal, delicately held in place by three bent metal prongs. It was just large enough to require two hands to carry. A soft red glow resonated from the ruby, pulsing like a heart beat. Altogether, it was a breathtaking sight, exuding an aura of esteemed value and plentiful wealth.

There, at the foot of the column supporting the glorious stone, sat poor Hogarth. Nursing a terribly wounded eye, it was clear to see how the young rock-eater had managed to safely clear the bridge while rolling. A trail of blood, led to a decently sized puddle at Hogarth's feet. Hand pressed firmly against the offended eye, he lifted his head with a violent shudder.

He opened his mouth to speak, but only a whimpering sob escaped him. Fat goron tears rolled down his cheeks.

It was a pitiful sight. One that seemed to make Lethe very uncomfortable as she remained frozen by the entrance, curiously allowing the others to go ahead and attend to Hogarth while she anxiously rubbed her arm and watching in silence.

Amidst the chaos of the cell Jillian clutched to the bars, given a moment to think while Felicia raised her sword against the flaming skeletons, Archer stepped up into the action as well promising to cremate them. Later she would know who to blame for the fire business in the first place. Now however, they showed all the bravery Jillian wished she could spare. Some fearless leader she was turning out to be. The skeletons on their own weren’t a problem it was the obvious fact they were on fire that rendered the skullkid absolutely terrified. Fire belonged in two places. A lantern and a hearth.

There was no water around them, not much of anything to effectively put out a fire without getting dangerously close. Something could get close to something like a skeleton without any consequences. She took a short break from hissing wrapping her legs around the bars to steady herself. Pulling the book forward she thought to summon one thing that could smother the skeletons into submission.

Flipping with shaky hands, the light of the fire giving her enough light to read. It took her a few tries to spit out the summoning spell but much like how her puppets arrived a purple inky pool of magic opened below her and up from it’s depths a wobbling, chattering and absolutely slimy green chuchu appeared. It’s huge yellow eyes dimly took in the sight, its giant globus head bobbing. Jillian pointed. “Give the skeletons a hug.”

The chuchu wobbled forward obediently, leaping with a few lame hops before clumsily collapsing into the skeleton attacking Felicia. Smoke rolled off the skeleton as the chuchu’s slimy body extinguished the flames, slime splashing over Felicia’s sword and her arms.

Jillian watched from her perch, a triumphant shout, “Haha! Stupid skeletons!”

(Collab 2: The Immortal Door)

Left Tunnel Group

_{Collab with @The 42nd Gecko @jasonwolf @Dervish @Captain Jenno}

"I hope whoever designed this place had to find their way out when it was finished being built." Veitaru glared at the obstacle, as she was wont to do.

Noi was the last in the new room. He hadn't been nearly as concerned as the others, and his power remained strained to keep up. The metal man stumbled into the room before falling on his side. Groaning into the floor Noi began to rattle off information at a very high pace. He mostly
repeated numbers occasionaly adding in a word before going right back into another string.

Glancing at the rather unsettling robot for a few moments, Lev huffed, searching the walls for seams, false panels, or even more unpleasant surprises like they'd just survived. "We're in an undead nightmare tomb. Nothing about this is going to make much sense, take it from the ghost. I'm kind of an authority on undeadness." he replied, still feeling rather guilty for not being able to stop the wallmaster that snatched Felicia. Since he wasn't exactly familiar with how one dies and becomes a Poe, since Hyrule would be overrun with them if everyone became one, he'd rather not tempt fate that his new friend was on her way to becoming a Poe, or worse. She wouldn't retain any of her memories, anyways. It wouldn't be Felicia that came back, and that was just downright depressing.

And who was I? Probably some kind of rude idiot, like a town cryer. Lev thought, giving up his search momentarily before turning to the group.

"I'm really down for ideas, here. How do we get Felicia back and find the others? What about that stone thing Lethe sent us after?" he asked, mulling over their options.

"I do not suppose you can just float your hand through the lock and open it from the inside, eh?"

"Yeah, I'm sure whoever built the tomb for dead things didn't expect any ghosts in their dungeon."

Noi suddenly stopped talking. Then the consant whirl that eminated from his body stopped. Finally the robot fell flat on the floor making a loud clunk. It was entirely still lying there like a corpse. then it jerked back to life. The whirl began again, and Noi's voice came back in the empty monotone.

"System Failure: Number Four Hundred and Seven. Log file created. Movement systems 98%, Combat systems 50%, Energy systems 78%, Cognitive systems unknown. Estimated memory damage 10%."

He began to get up onto his feet and survayed the area. It was vaguely familiar. He had no clue where the rusty shield had come from or why he was getting high thermal readings from down the hall. Other things were hazy and fragmented. He knew he traveled here for a reason, and he mostly recognized the organisms around him. He remembered his core memories, but even then some old memories were completely missing now. He wasn't programmed to know how to handle this. Memories were there one second and gone the next. His combat systems began to switch on linked in some way as a response. He grabbed his hammer and charged at the door. He wasn't even sure why he wanted the door gone, but he raised his hammer and bashed it against the door over and over a constant cadence to his swings.

It fell from the ceiling, after the first strike. A cacophonous, clattering collection of ivory, beating sour notes arrhythmically into the ground, a couple dozen all at once. White blurs fell into the party’s view, out of it, and then bounced back up into it again, bones ricocheting back from the floor, spinning gracelessly and then landing with heavy, empty thunks.

There was a long, still silence.

Then, one by one, the bones began to shudder, quaking on the spot and slowly rattling themselves about the place, growing closer as though drawn by invisible threads. Fibulas to tibias, femurs to hips, one by one building themselves up, leaping into one another, parts to build a monstrous whole. Over the course of about fifteen seconds, its true design was to revealed: a skeleton, woven out of cracked old bone.

But this one was different, from those another team elsewhere were facing. For every bone was thick and sturdy, and comprised part of an altogether taller figure. An intimidating figure. A…
Headless figure.
It raised a steady hand, digits folded- impossibly- to form a claw. It raked the space about its neck, and across its shoulder blades. Then, it mimed panic. Threw its arms up into the air impotently, screamed inaudibly towards the ceiling, and then lowered its non-existent face into its hands before it crumpled to its knees, and began pounding at the stone beneath them with its quivering fist.

Bonk!
Down came its head, a near minute late, bouncing around, tuneless and hollow. The body scrambled to chase it, and then hooked it with its foot, and kicked it up onto its welcoming spinal column. It opened a pair of low, green lights, in the space within its sockets. Then it laughed: a dry, rattling laugh. One which shook the ribs in lieu of the lungs. It pushed its bosom out, and took a heroic stance, the backs of its wrists angled stylishly against its hipbones. Then, it raised a hand.
“Halt! No further, foolish mortals!”, he forbade, in entirely the wrong direction. He was making eye contact, of course, in suitably intimidating fashion. The only issue was that his head was on backwards, and his arm was stretched out at his hind, uselessly.
“… Er. Give me a second. I… hm.”

Lev approached, enough to appear to be social, but not enough that the skeleton could reach him. It would be hard pressed to reach something that was well above it. "Oh, don't worry, take your time. You're the first person in this place that is willing to chat, so let's start off with that!" the Poe replied enthusiastically. "See... well, maybe not while you're head's on the wrong way, but I'm Lev, a Poe, and the big machine over there is Noi. Neither of us could really be considered mortals, think of us as aspiring tourists to your, uh, humble abode!" he gestured to Veitaru and Jaege to go scurry off somewhere out of sight before the skeleton figured out his head situation. Maybe it just detected they were there without actually seeing? "So, c'mon, no need for that tone. We're all friends here! What Poe do you know that actually tolerates the stench of living flesh and the nasty bodily functions they perform? Abhorrent, I say.

"Oh, listen to me prattle on! I forgot to ask your name, sir...?"

Noi halted his hammer and turned around. This one he didn’t recognize as anything but a skeleton a moving skeleton. That didnt add up. Frustrated he grabbed the skeleton by the scapula and pulled him close.

"The ragged one may have patience, but I do not. My time may seem unlimited, but I won't have it wasted. Hylia demands my service, and woe be to those who meet my zeal!"

Noi pushed the skeleton back and made a stronger grip on his hammer. While some memories faded it made other move to the forefront. Memories of loss and pain that only pushed Noi further.

Veitaru did not need to be motioned to move away from the scary spooky skeleton, having taken cover behind Jaege.

Jaege on the other hand had some difficulty understanding Lev's gestures. "I do not think sweeping the floor will help, my friend. Also, it is not very nice to insult friends while they are standing next to you. Or at all, I must say. And whoa, Noi, if skeleton friend meant harm, he would have made with the surprise attacking upon us."

Lev buried his face in his hand, shaking his head in disbelief, or perhaps more accurately that he felt he shouldn't have been surprised at how this all was proceeding and was hoping against all odds. "I was trying to see if this guy was willing to help a fellow undead out in finding the stone and tell you two fleshies to hide away so he wouldn't see you. Now we get to watch our zealous robot manhandle our only lead for getting out of here."

Jaege nodded in appreciation of Lev's clarification, "Ah, that is what you intending. I was wondering about the sweeping of the floor.. This makes sense, and explains the insults, I see now the mistake was with me, my friend. I apologize."

"Well I mean," the Stalfos had began, lowering its guard somewhat, "That hardly seems fair, does it? We were all alive once! I think. I don't quite remember. Must have been, though, to have bones! And I- we- overcame that handicap, didn't we? Maybe they could-- hey!"
As Noi shoved him back, the Stalfos stumbled into a cartwheel, with a sort of drunkards grace: not quite an acrobatic prowess, but an impressive degree of tumbling. He rolled back up onto his feet, and dusted his scapula off.
"First of all, rude," he snarked dryly, squinting at Noi with a bitter skepticism, body still angled the wrong way. He took a few moments to lift his head up, turn it, and screw it on the right way, before turning around to face him with indignant body language, but a permanent skull's smile.
"Secondly, I wasn't even looking for a fight! I was trying to warn you. Can't fight you without my sword! I don't even know what sword I'm thinking of, but I know I had one, once!"

"Who needs a sword." There was a undertone as thought Noi was grinning after his words.

He dropped the hammer to one hand and slammed his free hand back into the door making an explosive boom.

"Oooh," the Stalfos threw his arms up in faux fright, "My bones are quaking! I'm already dead, you don't have to bore me, too. I wasn't even talking to you, I was warning the mortals! If I was looking to pick a fight, I would have come down on your head!"

"And we are so happy that you didn't, you look to be rather fierce, doesn't he?" Lev interjected quickly, shooting the others a stare so they'd behave. "Noi, could you please release the gentleman here so he can arrange himself properly? Now, I apologize for how my friends here have reacted, but in our defense, you're the first person or creature we've encountered that hasn't been immediately hostile so everyone is a bit on edge. One of those hands took another one of us, a young Hylian girl. Do you know where she went? And what's this danger you speak of?"

Noi was not amused by the skeleton, but it was right. If it was already dead it probably didn't care if it died. He tried to think and process a better plan, but most of them came down to grinding the thing to dust.

Jaege figured Noi was handling things pretty well and just nodded agreeably in the background. Veitaru continued hiding.

He puffed out his sternum proudly, and if he could have grinned, he would have.
"Why, it's me, of course! Dungeon keeper, human slayer! Servant of all things dark and deadly!", he declared in a tone of glowing pride. A quiet second passed, and then he wilted with a sigh.
"At least, that's the script. But if I'm real honest I don't have the energy. Fighting you guys seems like a real hastle, and I just want to do other things with my unlife, y'know? I've only been awake for a few seconds and I'm tired of all this dreariness. I don't know my own name, or who I was before, but I know one thing. I wasn't meant for a dungeon!"
He posed flamboyantly, one arm outstretched towards an implied sun, the other across his chest, his hand hovering about where his heart might once have been.
"I was meant... to be a star! ... as for your Hylian friend, if the Wallmasters got her, she's probably... no, dead isn't the right word... in the dungeon! Probably. But then, aren't we all?"

"I believe I mentioned not wanting time wasted." Noi grumbled at the skeletons theatrics.

The thing liked to talk more with its hands than head. It did give Noi a new tactical option. The robot lunged forward grabbing the skeletons skull and pulling it off the rest. He held the body at bay with one hand while holding the skull high.

"Get to the point."
Noi cared mostly for his task, but he saw no reason to risk his allies, "Why must the mortals beware?"

"Noi, is very rude to rip off new friend's head while having conversation. Boy, have never had to say that before."

The skull closed the narrow pinpricks of green it had for eyes.
"I don't negotiate with bullies. You're as bad as Ganondorf and half as likeable, do you know that?"
The body didn't fight. Just folded its arms, stubbornly.
"From this point on, I'm only going to talk to the Poe and the big fellow, they seem friendly gents! At least until I get an apology."

"I'm terribly sorry for his poor manners! Noi here's been allegedly asleep, or whichever it is that robots do, for thousands of years so he's a bit..." Lev suppressed a bemused snort. "Rusty. As I have mentioned, it has been a very trying day for us all, so Noi, you apologize to this nice fellow and replace his head. I suspect we'll all get what we want much faster if our new friend here deems us worthy of assistance. Isn't that right... hm. What do we call you? Take it from me, pal, one of the perks of being undead is you get to decide what you call yourself and not being saddled with whatever some irresponsible parent calls you. Like, what kind of sociopath names their kid 'Link'? Imagine all the torment in school."

The skull's eyes lit up again, and there was some spark of thought in their verdant shimmer.
"Hm, what do you call me? It's hard to say! There are so many to pick from, and none of them ring any bells! Do you have a recommendation?"



Frustrated as ever Noi pulled the skull close to his helm and growled, "Yorick. Your name is Yorick. We're done. Now stop wasting time or I'm keeping your skull."

The eyes died out again. Not a peep, not a shine.

"I don't think he took to that one. I'm partial to Mufasa." Lev interjected.



Noi shook the skull.

"Not like he was telling us anything useful anyway."
Noi shrugged and put the skull away in his hidden compartment.

Silence ensued. Loud, passive-aggressive silence.

Felicia didn't have time to raise her sword as the two remaining skeletons descended, but she was allotted plenty of time for her life to flash before her eyes. In that ephemeral space of time in which which everything moved as if submerged in molasses, Felicia allowed herself to contemplate her 26 years of existence. She figured she might as well, considering how likely it seemed she was about to have her face smashed in and-- in the interim-- baked into a crispy green haired patty on the dungeon floor.

Of course, what she saw was rather disappointing. The flask of whiskey in her pocket suddenly felt a thousand times heavier than the sword in her hand.

Though not nearly as slimy.

CRACK!

"I'm gonna cremate you boney bastards!"

Elbowing her assailants, Archer bought Felicia enough time to shove the closest skeleton away and regain her footing, putting as much distance between herself and it as she possibly could. Which turned out not to be very much as her back hit the bars of the small cell before she was barely out of arms reach.

The furthest skeleton immediately grabbed hole of Archer's trousers, head still reeling from the attack as it unintentionally set the man's clothing alight.

Meanwhile, a detestable green chuchu came hopping in out of the edges of Felicia's quickly worsening tunnel vision.

SPLOOSH!

The green slime splashed across her arm and sword as she shielded her face, pressing herself up against the bars with even more fervor.

“Haha! Stupid skeletons!” she heard Jillian's voice cry out. Opening her eyes, she quickly noticed that the skeleton before her was no longer on fire as well as slipping and scrambling to get back to its feet in the puddle of slime. Felicia slashed her sword across the skeleton's head, decapitating the nasty thing before suddenly slipping in the slimy green substance herself. Feet swept out from under her, she hit the ground hard, causing her to instantly lose her grip on her sword as the wind was knocked out of her lungs.

"Wah!" Felicia complained as the detached skull rolled into her forearm and decided to sink its teeth in her flesh with fiery determination-- reminiscent of its previous glory.

Archer stood and seethed, as in the mahogany of his eyes, reflected fibres burnt away about the knee. Beneath, the skin was reddened by the lick of encroaching flame, although Archer could keep that much at bay – and it was nowhere near as red as his face, swollen by his locking jaw. Teeth clenched so tight that it hurt. He squeezed his fists, and the heat in his palms subsided – the focus necessitated by magic gave way, instead, to a different sort of fire. He drew back his arm. He let out a short breath.

“Those were my good pants,” he explained, calmly. One by one he stretched his fingers, before balling them back into a fist. Then he was yelling again, as suddenly and loudly as though he had never stopped.
“Those!”
Punch.
“Were!”
Punch.
“My!”
Punch.
“Good!”
Punch.
“Pants!”
He brought his knee up, and caught its jaw – then extended his leg, thrust his foot through the exposed vertebrae, before bringing it down on the fallen skull.

It splintered beneath his heel, shattered like china. It sounded like that, too. A broken mess of exposed bone lay at his feet, and he stood panting, staring. Unsatisfied. For a few seconds the anger didn’t leave, it stayed and it broiled. Expected more – demanded it, even. It was something primal inside, something that throbbed with the beating of his heart, and threatened to consume him if he didn't do more. Hurt them worse. But after a few seconds of the bones laying still and truly dead, the fight left him.
Like hot metal driven into ice, he suddenly felt brittle. Weak. He swayed on the spot for an instant. Then he inhaled, and spat on the bones at his feet.
“They were my only pants,” he grumbled in the ensuing moment of clarity. He was warding the flames off, but he was quickly running out of pant-space. He turned to the others, overlooking the chaos as the endorphins started to spill in: “Anybody carrying water?”


Zephyrus didn’t break pace between crossing the threshold and making his way towards Hogarth, steps careful and silent. And although he moved lightly, his chest was heavy. He was filled with a peculiar melancholy; one he would not soon forget – he had made the worst of mistakes, and failed to save a child’s life. An undead child, perhaps, a wretch of the forest. But nonetheless, a casualty that might have been avoided if he had acted with more gusto and grace.
But that same feeling of loss drove him to help. He would not watch another fall quietly into this temple’s tenebrous grasp.
And so he kept walking, eyes forwards. And knelt, calmly. His face devoid of pain, of anger – a soothing monotone. His default, his greatest skill. He cut a length of cloth off of the shirt beneath his armour, and offered it as a bandage.
“Hello, my friend. We’re here, now.”

=======================(The Immortal Door Pt 2)

Left Tunnel Group

"I do not think threatening of the bone-man is very effective. What has he to fear from you? You keeping his skull till you rust away? Life, and death too, I guess, is too short to make enemies."

"I neither live nor will die and I will not give into the demands of monstrosities." Noi added a stern finger point to his comment.

"Very well, if only force will persuade, then I guess force it will be. I am sorry to do this, heavy metal friend." Jeige shook his head dissapointedly, "Vei, you get skele-friend his head back, yes?" Veitaru stuck her tongue out in response. That was a maybe, maybe?

Regardless, Jeige then sprung forward, slamming into Noi. Noi was the heavier combatant by far, and quickly compensated for the push.. But Jeige had been expecting that, knowing the way things moved around their center of balance to correct themselves, and used that against Noi. Lifting one of Noi's legs up and spinning them around Noi's remaining leg, Jeige performed a belly to belly slam, landing on top of Noi against the ground, with head facing towards the skele-friend.

Where Veitaru was somehow already there, disinterestedly holding the skeleton's head up, as though she didn't really care.

Noi rumbled furious. He slammed his arms against the ground throwing himself upward and Jaege off him. Even if the hylian could topple him he couldn't keep him down.

"Do not tempt my patience hylian." Noi growled clenching a fist, "Act against me again and I will be forced to retailiate."

If Jaege did not stand between them Noi would likely attempt to recollect the skull from the small one. For now though Jaege had earned his warning.

Lev, for his part, floated towards the young Gerudo and extended a hand for the skull. "Seems our friend is a bit cantankerous. Allow me to return the skull to our Stalfos friend over there, because if Noi comes after me, I can simply remain out of reach." he said kindly, knowing that Veitaru was brave beyond her years and the Poe rather she lived to see all of them. Noi was unpredictable and dangerous; turning on each other in this place spelled doom for all.

Veitaru gave a glance back at Noi and then back towards Lev that spoke of the message 'Don't have to tell me twice' as she tossed the skull at him and bolted for the nearest cover.

Jeige however, stood his ground. "Stand against being a good person again, and I shall be forced to discipline you."

Mufasa opened his eyes, those small, burning spheres of green.
"Say, buddy, good to see you again! I'd shake your hand, but..."

"And what lovely green incandescence you have!" Lev replied chipperly, giving Mufasa room to re-orient himself. "I trust the inconvenience didn't do lasting harm."

"Only to pride! And not mine. Where was I?", Mufasa rolled the lights of his eyes into the back of his skull for a moment, a passing instant of dizzy thought.
"My sword, acting, bored by bravado, a solid minute of tediuous darkness... oh! Escaping, wasn't it? Flattery will get you anywhere, my ghostly friend, including out of this room!"

"Splendid! And here I was worried we would be quite aimless for eternity, you arrived just in time!" Lev said, taking liberal use of the flattery angle. "Now, the itinerary I've outlined; stone, lost friends. Could you show us the way?"

"Stone? That wasn't in my script. But if it's in here, I can help you find it! I know this place like I do the back of my..."
Mufasa took a second to turn his hand around by the wrist socket, so it was facing the right direction.
"... anyway. To get through this here door, first you need to beat the room's boss - me! But there's a catch. Two catches, actually. First - I have to pick my opponent. And second... I wanna get outta here. It's dark, and dreary, and sort of wet? I don't like it."

Noi started to grumble quietly, but the noise built as did his anger. Not only had everyone trusted the monster, but they had turned against him to help it. Now it turned out the thing was some sort of master of the chamber. Noi knew he wasn't the brighest, but did the others really need the wisdom of Nayru to see this coming.

"And now the prime directive is known. You fools deserve this." Noi growled.

Jeige offered out his hands, one in a fist over the other palm face up "So, we need to beat you, yes? I challenge you to rock paper scissors."

Mufasa hesitated. Looked down at his newly corrected hand.
"That... is genius. I must warn you, though! I always win!"
He turned to Lev, and obscured his permanent, pale smile behind his hand, before whispering "Because I always pick rock. Rock always wins."

"Either you're pulling my non-existent legs, or you're very out of practice at this game."

Noi looked on massively confused. He had no clue what stone, parchment, and shears could possibly have to do with each other. Nor how they could be used to challenge someone to battle.

Hiding his hands behind his back, Jeige began the countdown. "Rock paper scissors, shoot!" He surged forth his massive hand, in the rock positiion.

Mufasa shoved his boney mitt out, too - fingers curled into a stone, just as Jeige's were.
"Haha! We favour the same strategy, then! But then again, is there any other?"

"They didn't even hit each other! This is the least effective form of combat I have ever witnessed." Noi held his hands before him motioning towards what he considered utter insanity.

"Just let it happen, big guy. There's still plenty of smashing to look forward to, yeah?" Lev interjected, plucking his journal from his robes and scribbling notation. Titanic struggle of wits against an adversary so diabolical and crafty that in life, he had led an army right to Hyrule Castle's gates.... "Personally, I'm loving this."

"Vei, I think he knows strategy too." Much like Mufasa had whispered to Lev, now Jeige leaned down comically far to whisper to Veitaru.

"It's not a strategy and it never WAS a strategy. It's a game of chance! Except when a boneheaded idiot only picks rock!" Veitaru hissed back.

"Argh, well, you're a skilled opponent. AGAIN! Rock paper scissors, shoot!" Jeige again picked rock.

As did the other, more literal bonehead.
"Hrm. Impressive."
"How did he master my ultimate technique?!"

"PICK PAPER!" Veitaru wasn't even whispering anymore, her words clearly audible. "Vei, he can hear you, we should stick to strategy.. Again, rock." Jeige again turned his back towards Mufasa to prepare his throw and started the coundown "It's not a strategy!" There were now signs of a struggle, as Veitaru jumped up and swishing fabric and flailing little girl limbs could be seen. "Ugh, Paper, Vei, you not as light as you once were.. Scissors.." "YIELD!" "Shoot!" Jeige held forth his throw... Which was apparently, Veitaru, who had grappled her way onto his hand.

"This combat style gets even more confusing. How is a child a viable weapon? Then again it sounds more viable than parchment." Noi grumbled still thinking cracking the skeleton's skull more efficient.

"I've seen my share of people tripped down staircases by children. They also go for the ankles." Lev interjected, not at all concerned about the chaos unfolding.

"What's an ankle?" Noi looked over at Rags.

His massive metal feet were more or less fused to the lower leg because of the armor plates around them.

Lev pointed at Jaege, and then to Mufasa, close to the ground. "That part where the foot goes into the leg. Kids love biting that."

Noi attempted to look closly. For once the skeleton was helpful as his hinges were visible.

"But doesn't that location put the person at risk of a kick to the face? I'm strating to better understand why I was made for combat. The humans are lacking in comparison."

"Haha, rock!", the skeleton rattled proudly, bosom metaphorically swollen, "Rock beats child!"

"Nuh uh." Veitaru eloquently countered.

"Wait now the little one is a part of the battle chant. This combat style makes no sense!" Noi roared holding his helmet.

Mufasa squinted at Veitaru sternly, the glowing beads of his eyes narrowing into thin lines. A long silence passed, and then he shrugged his boney shoulders, shaking away the dust of eons in the process.
"Can't argue with that," he surmised, before throwing his arms up over his head and wailing in anguish.
"Aaaaah! I am vanquished! Alas, these poor old bones are still too young!", he stumbled back, body clattering to the ground, falling apart like the constituent pieces of a broken xylophone, until the only form he maintained was his torso, head and left arm.
He clutched towards a sun they could not see, hand tremling, wrist weak.

"To have seen the stars... one last... ti..."
Mufasa's head fell limply to his shoulder, as the green of his vision faded, burning out as the last ember does, leaving only the ghost of its glow behind. Then, a few paces behind where he had fallen, there was a new light. A soft autumnal shine, all gold and bronze, starting as a few sparks and rising in looping circles from seemingly nowhere. The light shimmered, and split, until it was a dozen lights, two dozen - a glittering curtain being whirled about in mid-air, chiming like fairy bells until, all at once, the veil was torn away to reveal a chest, built stout and heavy. Short, but ornate and carved from a beautiful stained wood. It was as still as though it had always been there, just out of view, somehow.

Another silence ensued, and then slowly Mufasa opened one eye again.
"How was that? Good, huh? You bet it was."
Mufasa began clipping himself back together.

"Feigning death is more effective if you don't get up until we have left. That or you could begin the act after actually recieving a blow." Noi commented deeply dissapointed the skeleton hadn't stayed down.

He trudged towards the chest prodding its side with his hammer before trying to lift it open.

It gave with no resistance, as though it were spring-loaded, almost. The clasp, part of a beautiful frame made up of gold, still alight with the preternatural light which had preceded it, flicked up on command, and allowed Noi access to its contents as though it were his birthright.
Inside, a blinding light shone, a square of white which rose and fell unevenly, and seemed alive with the same, faint bells that had marked the chest's coming. And deep inside that light, so deep that it was invisible until grasped and wrenched into the encroaching darkness it battled, was something heavy. And cold.



A weighted, golden key. Dense, but balanced to lay comfortably in the palm. In its base, a ruby gleamed in the chest's fading light. But strangely, even once that light had died completely, the stone retained a peculiar sheen. Beautiful. Mesmerising.

Noi grabbed the key as carefully as he could, such metals were weak compared to his own. Putting it to the side he inspected the rest of the chest to find it entirely empty.

"That is simply wasteful." He quietly noted before closing the chest and carrying it under his arm.

In his free hand Noi picked the key back up placing it in his compartment before grabbing his hammer.

Lev clapped his hand against the lantern, applauding with a series of clanks. "That was quite the spectacle. You should really consider leaving this place and getting into theater." the Poe said, leveraging himself so he could see what was in the chest when it opened. "You aren't bound to this place, are you?" he asked Mufasa suddenly, looking up at the reassembling Stalfos.

Mufasa clipped his other shoulder back together, to shrug, before leaning forwards to reattach his hips.
"I'm not entirely sure! But I intend to find out. I'd rather be snuffed out at the exit than languish in this place much longer," he reasoned.

"That's, uh. Hm. Depressing. Let's hope you can enjoy the sun like the rest of us, I need someone else around who can't feel or smell what's so great about the summer... and to deal with dogs."

"Oof. Sun? Hadn't thought about that. I like dogs, though! I think. Do I like dogs?", Mufasa looked to himself, introspective.

"On one hand, I'm sure dogs would like me. But maybe that's their greatest- nay, only- flaw. Hm..."

"Heh.." Veitaru smiled darkly at that prospect.

"I know not of these dogs, but I do know that we must continue forward. Idle chatter does not keep the darkness at bay."

"Well, you have key now, so you are the one who can be of the keeping the darkness at bay, yes? By opening the door that we have access to that does not lead to firey demise?"

"Are your optics functioning? My appendages are occupied. Take the key open the door. I do not wish to risk losing this magic box."

Before the argument could carry on, the Poe swooped in and snatched the key, muttering something under his breath as he headed off towards the exit. "We can stand here and bicker for eternity, or we can go find Felicia. I know what I'm doing." he said, slotting the key into the oversized lock and chain assembly, which promptly crumbled to the ground with a heavy thud. Opening the door, Lev didn't wait to see if anyone was coming with him as he drifted through the doorframe, his lantern lighting the way.

Noi was more than ready to move on. He ran forward and got around Rags. He was the shield of Hylia and he would lead the charge. The last room had given him more than enough time to recharge and wanted to use it.

Asmodeus

It was strange, to see such a figure walking down that path.

A dark figure, bearing such imposing armor, a knightly form without a steed, discharging bolts of electricity every now and then. Had she not been alone, or had her helm hung on her belt, it would not be out of the question for anyone to think a Dark Lord was coming to claim the town. How many would even try to stop her if she was?

Asmodeus had forgotten how long it was since she first stepped out of that tomb, that underground dungeon she first woke up in. It had taken her quite a while before realizing she was hungry. She had been gnawing on random lizards she had electrified before finally finding this lush land of green. Now she gnawed on only the fat lizards. It was certainly a step up from the skinny lizards. At the very least, even if she had no answers to her questions, she knew where to find good food.

Her hand snapped to the hilt of her sword, as a voice echoed in her mind.

A voice, familiar yet foreign, but lacking something. Something she had always associated with a voice in her head. What it was she did not know, but call for her it did, and so she must answer.

With a single fluid motion, she snapped the helm from her belt and onto her head, fastening it securely before sprinting down the path towards the town. Even running at full speed, it took a while for her to reach the town gates, and even more trying to find where the graveyard was. There were some that looked concerned the moment she flew in, but most paid her no mind, writing her off as perhaps having one too many drinks. Several scared children afterwards, she finally managed to find an old man willing to direct her to the graveyard.

The graveyard seemed empty, but she approached it carefully nonetheless, unsheathing her sword as she looked cautiously around. There was an opening just a few metres away, but she was loathe to approach it without knowing why it was she was called here.

¢σмє тσ тнє gяανєуαя∂.

¢σмє qυι¢кℓу.

тιмє ιѕ σƒ тнє єѕѕєη¢є....

Calanon had set off the previous day, his pack and sword a familiar weight that hindered him not as he left his small cottage. Having heard the voice at night, dreams of some darkness falling over Hyrule. He had been beckoned to the graveyard of Kakariko village. Why there? What is happening? The light-footed ranger left as soon as he could, making good time out of Ordon village, his pace swift as he made it into Hyrule fields proper. He wished he could enjoy the day with a stroll. Feeling the sun on his face as he listened to the tune of the birds would have been a welcome way to spend his time. He couldn't afford to tarry this time, however.

It seemed odd fate that he came across a merchant from Castle Town who's wagon had broken down near the northeastern edge of Hyrule Fields. He couldn't help but offer some aid, and did his best to fix the Wagon and carry some of the merchant's bulk back to Ordon village, unfortunately back the way he had come. He couldn't ignore the merchant, and once the man had been firmly set back in Ordon, he made all haste back into the field.

He bounded northwards into Kakariko Village just after breakfast, skidding to a stop and kicking up dust, before he asked around about strange happenings hereabouts at the graveyard. Thankfully, he received word that a group of travelers had made their way into the graveyard. Could this be? Calanon wiped the sweat off his brow, and slumped at the news. He'd run since he had awoken, and knew it would be too difficult to catch them if they went into where he expected them to be.

He grabbed some breakfast, and once his belly was full, he marched into the graveyard with a strong stride and a steeled gaze. The young Hylian had no idea what he was going to face when he strode in, but an armored woman probably a tad taller than him was not what he expected. He abruptly went from his grim gaze to one of bewilderment. "Oh um, hello." He said to her, giving a stiff bow.

"Oh!" Alyce exclaimed in surprise as Archer disappeared into the abyss overhead. A fireball came hurtling towards her then. She narrowly managed to avoid it as she staggered back, bowing her legs outwards as it burst against the stone floor between her feet. She watched as Graham almost comically managed to dodge several more incoming fireballs, shoving off of Magus as his sinister shadow form reunited with the gross, spindly body he'd left behind. It seemed that whatever unique magic the Poe's flames were made of, they meshed as well with the Subrosian's heat resistance as they did the Twili's wooden frame.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a shift of movement while the Poe's focus was off of her. Suddenly reminded of the fifth member of their little team, she turned to see Griz, taking a step back towards the dark hallway they'd just come from while sliding their twin blades back into their sheathes.

"Griz," Alyce said firmly, the faintest vestige of fear in her voice as her fellow Sheikah turned to look at her, red eye gleaming in the wicked Poe's firelight.

"Don't."

The look Griz provided was more indecipherable than some of the text in her oldest books. She chose to believe it was apologetic as Griz took another step back and was swallowed by the shadows. The sound of quickened footsteps faded away just an anguished cry drew her attention back to the matter at hand.

A second. A third. A fourth. As the wooden body burned, Magus seperated from it. In his attempt to crawl away, however, he was assaulted by blow after blow until he was no more.

Good riddance, Alyce thought in the back of her mind. The part that wasn't currently fearing for her life as she batted away another Wallmaster with her book. Unlike Griz, she would not be one to betray the trust of the Goddess.

By a bizarre stroke of luck, Graham procured his boomerang and, despite the lingering effects of the Magic Bean he'd obtained from that scrub, managed to knock the ghostly beast across the face. The creature was very clearly hurt, but Graham took no chances. Upon catching his trusty boomerang, he pulled not one, but several Ember Seeds from his pouch and threw them with all his might.

As the Poe burned, it screeched in pain and the swarm of Wallmasters dispersed. And just like that, their group of five was down to two.

Left Tunnel Group

Had dear Noi perhaps been in less of a hurry to overtake Lev as lead, he might've seen the gaping hole in the ground before him. The Poe's lantern illuminated a small room-- barely large enough to accommodate the group minus Noi, who was now plummeting down into the abyss below. Strangely enough, there was no crash as the hulking nine foot robot collided with the bottom. Instead, there was only a thunderous boom. Like that of a large drum.

With no other place to go, the strange assortment of heroes were forced to descend after Noi. The stalfos, thusly named Mufasa, was the first to hop after him-- assuring everyone it was the correct way to go. The drum's surface imitated a taut trampoline, facilitating a less than comfortable, but overall harmless landing.

The room was vast. Circular in shape, extending several meters past the massive drum whereupon the party found themselves. A strange grid of symbols faded through a series of different colors on the ground. Thin pink rays of light occasionally sparked off of the grid. It seemed to pulsate with energy. The ominous grid surrounded the perimeter of the drum, also ending at the foot of a wide set of stairs at the head of the room, leading to a large platform. Upon the platform sat a wide and hollow arch, formed by several obsidian stones. At its crest lay the keystone of the structure, white with the golden crest of the royal family glowing from where it had been carved into the stone. All around the room, countless torches sprang to life in a spiral like pattern, bathing the room in more light than seemed appropriate considering the temple's dark and evil stench.

More attention grabbing in that moment, however, was the strangely shaped golden armor, colossal in size as it rested upon the drum's surface. Surrounding them with a surface of reflections that seemed to shine almost as brightly as the torchlight. The armor was comprised of three pieces in total: two enormous gauntlets and a massive cuirass. The gauntlets, two empty husks of gold, were large enough to cover a giant's hand and perhaps part of the wrist. Or, relatively speaking, enough to cover a small crowd of people. The larger of the three pieces was lifted partially off the drum by several chains attached to the ceiling. A cuirass built to accommodate a most peculiar shape-- a long and tapering torso.







Suddenly a shadow appeared upon the drum's surface. Large enough to consume almost the entire platform, though it seemed to be completely without a source. The shadow then began to tear itself away from the surface of the drum in stark black flakes, rising into the air and disappearing within the empty spaces allotted by the golden armor. The flakes flew at an alarming rate, maneuvering around the small group as though they were a mere nuisance.

Something was taking form.

In that same moment, an array of bright blue markings appeared along the surface of the armor. The chains elevating the armor's torso began to rise, lifting the half formed creature up off the ground and out of reach while the hands twitched to life, balling into tight fists that prevented any damage from befalling the gray skinned hands as they finished forming.

Protruding from the armored torso were two muscular arms, ending just past the elbow as if they had been sawed off, judging by the exposed flesh and bone. Where a head ought to have been, there was only a single, massive red eye, framed by several thick petal shaped flaps of skin and four tentacle-like feelers. The pupil of the stark red eye was small and yellow, surrounded by a ring of similarly sized yellow circles. Still safely out of reach, the eye fixated on the group with a curiously excited expression-- eager for their demise.

Fully formed, the armored hands flexed their fingers and began steadily beating at the drum. Not even Noi remained grounded as the percussion threw his footing. Only Lev, with his lack of dependency on such things as a place to stand, remained unaffected by the monster's rhythm. A detail the legendary Bongo Bongo quickly took note of. Still pounding away with his left hand, his right lifted from the drum and made a sweeping grab for the poe.

Kuma was a little ways outside of Kakariko Village at a farmers house when he awoke from his dream and began to stretch, he was around the area because of the festival that was taking place, he thought that it would have been the perfect opportunity to get some business and to have some fun, it had been a while since Kuma got to participate in such a thing. The reason he had not made it into the village itself was because the old farmer that lived there had damaged his plow. Kuma had promised the old man that he would take a look at it and assess the damage and what needed to be done to repair it if he got to stay the night there for free. He was lifting the plow to determine the damage, put it down and got his tools to start his work. It was 7:45 a.m. at the time when something popped into his mind.

¢σмє тσ тнє gяανєуαя∂.
¢σмє qυι¢кℓу.
тιмє ιѕ σƒ тнє єѕѕєη¢є....

Then was images of darkness and figures that he had long thought were gone from this world the feeling of fear and destruction waved through him. A graveyard showed up in his head, around it was a village, Kakariko Village the sign said.

But in focusing on the images he had forgotten about the plow. The farmer he was staying with had just gotten outside and was getting ready to start his morning chores, he took a big stretch and looked around to see the Goron standing there, he walked over and patted him on his arm. This knocked Kuma back into reality and he looked down at the farmer.

"You seemed to be out of it, like you were in a trance." The farmer explained to him.

I have to answer the call Kuma thought, he was about to roll off right then and there when he looked at the damaged plow and then at the old farmer and remembered what he had promised. He knew he had to go to the graveyard but he couldn't leave the man in the position that he was in, so as quickly as he could he went to work and worked on the plow. I'm going to be late! Kuma worried as he worked as hard and as fast as he could.

When he was done and the farmer thanked him he even offered to let him keep his cart there for safe keeping. Kuma was overjoyed, he loaded his cart and placed it in the farmers barn, the time now was 8:40 a.m. Kuma rolled into a ball and made his way to the village. He travelled as fast as he could without hitting anybody that was on the path, he could feel as though he was late and made his way into the village. He rolled out of his rolling form when he entered and looked around frantically.

He began asking the villagers if there was anything suspicious happening. A villager turned to him, the mans face was narrow and he had a bit of a bowl cut, he wore simple clothes and overalls with two large top front teeth. His beady eyes were facing away from the Goron.

"What in the hell is going on? There have been a bunch of you asking if anything was suspicious, they all went to the graveyard just over there..." Said the snarly man as he pointed in the direction of the graveyard as he looked up, and up, and up before finally making eye contact with him, Kuma thanked him by shaking the man up and down with joy, he was in the right place. Afterwards he realized what he was doing and put the poor man down gently and patting him in the head before apologizing. The time now was 8:50 a.m.

He saw what appeared to him to be two men standing at the entrance way, one bowing to the other. Hey! They must have been summoned here to, this must be big! He thought as he raised his right arm up in the air and waved as his left held the cudgel on his shoulder.

"Hello fellow heroes!" He yelled, as he ran over in excitement giving both of them
a pat on their shoulders. "I see you have heard the call! I have as well, Kuma Tadram is my name what are yours and please say it slowly so I can remember, not so good with names." He said with a chuckle, his voice deep and jolly, he then looked past them to the opening that awaited them with a smile. Finally, a calling in a dream, others that have also heard the call gathered at the same place, this was the adventure that would make him a hero! He could feel it in his rock filled gut!

@GreenGoat@POOHEAD189

@GreenGoat@Kessir Tarkin@POOHEAD189

The fresh mountain air was a lungful of possibilities. It was nothing like the damp breeze that swirled through the domain. While Kean loved his home, it was more for his people, his family. Were it safe to bring the children out into the wider world he would in a heartbeat. The towering trees, the fuzzy grass, the sheer wonder if it all made Kean wish he could share it with all zora, but that wasn't to be. Most zora never ventured too far from water. It wasn't illogical either. Water was safety for a Zora. There few were a dangerous foe. But the beauty beyond called to Kean.

Oh, the wonders he had witnessed. As he walked through the forest he felt like every step was a step back in time to younger crazier days.

Soon he was running, sprinting through the forest everything was a blur but the wind in his face and flying over his fins made him care not for sights. The sensation alone was brilliant. The domain was never this free. While its gleaming caverns and deep pools were a beautiful sight it always felt closed and isolated. It was safe, and while there were times to be safe, there must also be times to explore and take risks.

Kean slowed down before having to rest. His spirit was just as strong, but he hadn't been adventuring like this in quite some time. After a breather, he took back a more reasonable pace. He wasn’t an old zora yet, but he wasn’t the adventurer he used to be. He’d been on a very different adventure as of late. Two kids kept him busy and happy, but nothing in his adventures would have prepared him for it.

As he drew closer he heard the sounds of music and laughter. It was the festival. He was greatly tempted to go and see, but he was already slower than he wished to be. Swimming down the river had given him some time back, but this did seem pressing. He’d simply have to be quick at the festival. He strode into town and was hit with the sights are sounds of sheer joy. A sweet scent wafted around Kean, and he was drawn towards its source, a baker with delicious fried cakes absolutely covered in honey and powdered sugar. Kean licked his lips showing a shark toothed grin.

“Were my wife here she’d tell me no, but I suppose that's a small benefit to travel. Two please.” Kean chortled with a childish glee.

He stowed one cake, wrapped in waxed paper, and chomped into the other. Kean continued on his way taking in the sights and humming only to the tunes of a band which he couldn’t spot from where he was. His attention was caught by a man calling at him.

“You there, fishy, try your luck?”

“Me? Oh, I have terrible luck.” Kean said laughing internally, but sighing to the man.

“Everyone’s luck changes. Knock down the bottles and you can win a prize.”

“Eh, it’s a party.” Kean shrugged taking the challenge.

The man handed him a ball and indicated to a triangle stack of bottles. Kean sized them up, pulled back his arm, and made a sideway pitch that sent the ball curving into the rightmost and center bottom bottle. The right bottom flew off, and the other smacked into the other bottom bottle sending everything off the table.

“Yeah, I have terrible luck, but skill isn’t lucky.” Kean laughed grabbing a stuffed cucco off the shelf while the man grumbled to himself.

With that Kean felt he had spent more than enough time and hurried onward to the graveyard. A bizarre group of travelers stood before him.

“Good morrow fellow adventurers. Do you too seek the mysterious dream voice?” Kean asked joyfully as ever before taking another bite out of his fried cake.

"Th-thank you, brother," Hogarth hiccuped, accepting the makeshift bandage and holding it to his eye. Naviela approached, warily observing the room as she knelt beside the injured young goron.

"Here," she offered, tying the clothe around his head. "Keep it closed. We'll get it seen to when we get out."

Lethe remained abnormally quiet-- a detail that, with Hogarth as well as he was going to get for now, Naviela did not continue to ignore.

"This is the keystone, isn't it?" she quiried, standing.

Eyes still on Hogarth, Lethe was silent before responding. "Well,"" she mused, stepping forward, but giving Hogarth some obvious berth, "It. Certainly looks like it could be the keystone."

Zephyrus was strangely heartened by this Goron custom. Brother, to them, was a word that seemed to refer to all people amicable - but it carried a weight with him that lit some small, warm spark against the wet-cold of his gut. It wouldn't soon replace the knowledge that a child had been lost under his watch, but it was some small comfort to feel brotherly again. Although, with that sensation came a new, subtle guilt which laid itself across the back of his mind to niggle from the dark: what had become of his brother, in this torturous place?

The Sheikah raised his eyes, led by the observations of his companions. Then, he exchanged a brief look with Naviela - wrought with situational scepticism. This all seemed a little too convenient, for a place so deathly as this - a swinging blade and an army of ghoulish hands begot... a platform?
Anybody could have retrieved it from here. It didn't take a Sheikah - even a panicked Goron had managed to find it.

"If it's the real stone, it's almost certainly a trap," Zephyrus observed, after a few moments, "I think it only fair that we prioritise a leaving strategy for our Goron friend, before we try to grab it. You three should locate an exit, and I will do the honours."

He would lose nobody else today.

Naviela nodded in agreement before helping Hogarth to his feet and leading him away. Lethe silently followed suit.

Zephyrus stood before the pedastal with his feet shoulder-width apart, his weapon stowed away on his back. His hands hovered at either side of the jewel, reticent. This keystone, carved of a crystal as red as his eye.

"Is everybody ready?"

"Ready," Naviela confirmed when the loudest remaining member of their group now that Jillian was gone remained silent.

As the stone was removed, there was a delay almost long enough to accomodate a sigh of relief before, seemingly out of nowhere, metal bars fell over the exit. Naviela tugged Hogarth through the secret wall before they could be trapped in the room with Zephyrus. Lethe jumped back as well, but immediately gave the ring on her finger a twist. Transforming back into a fairy, she flitted back through the wall and between the bars, watching in horror as several glowing red spikes appeared along the walls and cieling. Slowly but surely, each row of spikes started to inch closer with the loud grating sound of stone upon stone. The room was, in a sense, shrinking.

A breath caught in Zephyrus' throat for an instant, as panic whelmed up from his chest, as an air bubble might, rising towards the surface of an otherwise still lake. He stared back at his team through the bars, as death approached him on all sides. For the first time visibly unnerved.
Then he exhaled, and began to breathe again. When the river bent, the water kept flowing - panic was a concept it had no need for. And so, he let it go.

"Should the worst happen, let it be known that at least one Sheikah died here with his head held high."

That was not admitting defeat, simply accepting the possibility with decorum. The reality waited to be seen, and Zephyrus set to work.
First thing was first - what would he do with this keystone? He stowed it in his bag, although the thing's size meant it took up all of the available space, and strained at his neck somewhat. Then he threw his eyes left, right and upwards - the walls were closing in. It would be wasting time if he tried to replace the keystone, if it didn't work it would be ten seconds less of thought.

Think. A Sheikah temple. This was a puzzle of some sort, wasn't it? Everything about their ways was encoded in riddle. They were Shadow People, after all.

"Shadow people."

He drew his gaze across the length of the encroaching walls. Two torches for every one of them. He inhaled deeply, and then found his stance, before throwing his arms out to either side - willing forth a blast of sharp, cold air to snuff their fires out, and coax the shadows from the approaching corners.

"Hmph!"

Whoosh! The flames went out. And the grating continued. With the exception of Lethe's fairy light, the room was engulfed in darkness but continued to shrink. "Great." Lethe commented, some of her brazenness restored as she flew forward, hovering by Zephyrus's shoulder, "Well, that wasn't a very bright idea, was it? Now it's dark AND you're going to be crushed to death."

"At the very least, I don't need to see the means of my demise in such stunning detail. I will admit, though, I had hoped that would solve some archaic puzzle and slow the springing of this trap. What do you suppose I should do?"

"Hell if I know!" Lethe griped, heaving a sigh as she squinted into the darkness. Being the only light source, she could barely make out the tips of the impending spikes. "Why'd you put out all the torches anyway?"

"I suppose I hoped it was some old Sheikah trick, and that by extinguishing the flames I would stop the spikes. I've heard legends of that sort of thing, and my options were quite limited: I can hardly fight the spikes, can I?", Zephyrus asked, removing his guan dao from his back in order to prod in the direction of the spikes at his left for emphasis.

Lethe frowned, falling silent for several seconds. "Maybe there's no solution," she said at last.

"You may be right. I regret only that I'm still holding the keystone, then: that my last action may well have been an inconvenience. It isn't in my nature to stand still in times of trouble, so I might well struggle when the spikes are too close for me to bare. But if I do, you will tell Archer I died with decorum, won't you? He should remember me as I was, and am: a sobering, some might say dull, point of reference."

Zephyrus replaced his polearm, slotting it back into the retaining ribbons of cloth on his back, and then sat down cross-legged.

"Wh--" Lethe flitted into his line of sight, "That's it?! You're just gonna... sit down?? And die? I only said maybe!"

Flying about the room in a panic, Lethe searched the walls in hope of finding a something they'd missed. A button, a switch, a riddle-- anything.

"I'm thinking. If we're meant to figure something out, we will."

Though she knew she could leave at any time, Lethe continued searching, grumbling under her breath. Her efforts were to no avail. The spikes were closing in. It wouldn't be long now before Zephyrus would die.

A minute at best, by a liberal estimate. But Zephyrus tried his best to keep his calm, his head low. It might have seemed a fool's death, but it seemed inevitable that one of them was going to be trapped in here - better it was him, he supposed.

The spikes were drawing in to the point of visibility, again.

"UGH!" Lethe exclaimed, ripe with frustration. Returning to Zephyrus, she grasped the ring around her waist pushed it down over her hips and legs. "Put this on!" she shouted.

Zephyrus didn't hesitate to listen, but he did quirk his brow at her as he took the ring. His expression, still clear and calm, turned momentarily towards a small, but thankful, warmth. Then he slid the ring onto his left pointer finger, and extended his hand with each finger splayed, in an attempt to interpet just what this meant - in doing so, giving Lethe access. She twisted the crescent on the crown face of the ring, like a dial, hurriedly, and the two were lost in the sudden bloom of a rushing plume of white smoke, billowing out and dissipating against the encroaching spikes. When it did, Zephyrus as he had been - tall and graceful- was gone. In his place, a ball of shimmering white, swaying left and right as it hung in midair. A fairy.

"Oh."

"Alright, hurry! Let's get out of here!" Lethe gave Zephyrus an impatient shove towards the exit.

Zephyrus lurched forwards, but the experience of flight wasn't quite like anything he had ever felt before. He pressed on, but his altitude would dip erratically. It was almost like using magic - almost. Innate but not necessarily comfortable.

"This is like nothing I've ever experienced," he remarked, in a muddled tone, as he slipped between the bars of the room, and out through the false wall again.

"Don't complain," Lethe replied sharply, gripping his arm as his inexperience nearly pulled him down again. The grating sound coming from the room left behind finally ended with a heavy slam. "You weren't supposed to experience this and if you're at all grateful to me for saving your life, you won't tell anyone. Understand?" As Lethe spoke, she spun around to face Zephyrus and gripped the crescent head of the ring, temporarily oblivious to personal boundries as she glared at him sternly.

Zephyrus hadn't been complaining, per say, but decided not to contradict her presumptions: she was, after all, his hero in this moment. It was better to pay his respects than argue arbitrarily. She had ensured that there was still a chance, at the end of all of this, that he might see Archer again, so if she had she told him the world as they knew it was a totally flat plain, in that second he would have agreed with her. He chose not to acknowledge the involuntary shock of red in his features, either, when she grappled the ring that was now about his waist. It was a peculiar embarrassment, but, again, not worth trespassing into disrespect over. Sheikah warriors were a dignified, discplined group, anyhow: they didn't blush.

How improper!

"You, of course, have my word - and my gratitude. I owe you whatever time I have left with what remains of my family, and it brings me incredible peace... your secret is safe with me."

A short pause.

"We are, however, accompanied."

Naviela and Hogarth watched the exchange in shocked silence. Noticing their presence, Lethe huffed in annoyance before turning the crescent every which way until the same spark of white smoke engulfed Zephyrus once more. "That goes for you guys, too!" Lethe exclaimed, "Not a word to anyone!" She yanked the ring off of Zephyrus's finger and perched herself on Hogarth's head. Stetching one arm above her head, Lethe slipped the ring back on, wiggling as she struggled to pull it over her shoulders and wings until it once again rested at her hip.

"Now," Lethe sighed, "We've got the keystone-- so I think it'd be best if we collected the others and got out of here."