@CoyoteLovely@Hekazu@EchoesofOld@Mataus@Ciaran@Normie@Tristwich@SpawnMeme@Kasai Uchiha@Dark Light@Liaison



Retreating down the dark and ominous stairway and collapsing the cairn over the entrance sounded like a wonderful idea. The undead wouldn't be able to get through for an hour, plenty of time for them to find a more permanent method of closing this particular entrance to Doch Mol. Fionn couldn't do that yet though. Several people were still making their ways to safety. To collapse it now would doom them.

So Fionn was currently hovering about the entrance of the cairn. Laying into zombies and skeletons as they got too close. With a grunt he slammed a gauntleted fist into the side of a technically hollow skull. The old bone shattered at the impact and the green mist inhabiting it dissipated in the stiff breeze that had picked back up. It was the last abomination against nature in the immediate vicinity, not something that would last but it gave him a chance to catch his breath and look around.

And what he saw didn't make him particularly happy. More undead were digging themselves out of the ground with every second and the three people still out there were not half close enough for the mage's liking. With a muttered curse he thrust his blade point down into the ground and sent a mental order to his armor. Lines of light abruptly arced across his body. To most they would be little more than an odd source of illumination, to Fionn they were lines of power.

Without the need to draw in ambient light or create it himself the mage could put much more of his power into making actually useful stuff happen. In this case it was by sending out a hail of bolts that slammed into the lesser undead blocking the route to safety. Rotting limbs went flying and bones burned to ash under the onslaught. It certainly looked fancy enough, the white and blue armored figure standing there with both hands held before him. Bolts of white light lancing forth to smite his foes.

Even with the help from his armor such a move was draining however. Each bolt was weak on its own and not all of the moving corpses that were hit fell unmoving to the ground. If those still out on the field didn't move fast their brief corridor would once again close.

Meanwhile Nakreyya and anyone else who had ventured down the stairs would find themselves in a medium sized chamber. Despite this assumedly being a hidden back entrance to the fortress city the walls were covered in detailed carvings. Artistically they were quite impressive, whoever had created them was a skilled worker of their craft. What those carvings depicted was another story. Scenes of dwarven taskmasters overseeing fields of slaves took up one section of the circular wall. Another was dedicated to necromancers plying their craft. A third section showed one of hordes of the dead storming some ancient city.

It was like that everywhere. The glories of the Rzailian Empire carved in exquisite detail. Also set into the walls were ten shadowy recesses holding large figures. With very little light reaching past the murky stairwell it was hard to tell if the armored figures were made of actual plate mail or if they were simply another set of carvings themselves. Whichever it was their unseeing helmets gazed ominously into the rest of the chamber.

Opposite where the stairs led into the room was a large door. Made entirely of some form of metal it was festooned with carvings similar in nature to those on the walls of the chamber. Perhaps most interesting to those observing however, was the large mechanical lock that took up the center of the double doors. The old Empire's technology was on clear display in the series of interlocking wheels and gears that bridged the center of the two slabs of black metal. Set proudly front and center was a series of brass rings, starting from a small disk and growing bigger and bigger until the outermost was a good half meter across. If one squinted hard enough they could even make a series of ancient runes set into the metal. Once again the dim light wasn't helping matters.

It was nearly instinctual, or perhaps instinctual itself for the Orc to fasten his pace towards the cover of the cairn. The green light that had filled the realm before them had caused him to have immediately jump into action, not one who has dealt with the arcane too much, he still knew through experience that the sudden wailing of the... dead, and the strong green light was somewhat like that of a firefight on a planet. Chaos was something the Orc was used to being within, and the sight of skeletons and corpses rising before him did strike a good deal of fear within him, despite having seen much in his four years as a galactic mercenary, he had never seen the dead literally be raised from the earth to assail upon the living.

It did take him aback, since he was raised by ancient traditions that the dead were sacred, and to be burnt via cremation to keep their remains from being desecrated. A brief thought filled his head regarding the situation as his combat boots dug themselves into the dead black sand, the Orc's pace breaking out into a full sprint towards the entrance of the obelisk. The gear he was handling at least weighed a dozen or so pounds, which slowed him down somewhat but he appeared to have donned enough weight in armor in his life to keep a decent pace within a combat scenario. This was much different he thought, the Orc came to realize this must have been also what it meant when his parents taught him of the tradition of cremation, and it didn't exactly fill him with rage, but a small degree of pity for the remains of those who had died.

He also was motivated by the dead oddly enough, knowing that if he fastened his progress he would perhaps not end up among these... creatures that had been raised by some form of supernatural force he only heard tales of on this planet. The armored mage he saw bewildered him slightly as he saw the bolts of light clear the path for him, the young swordsman and the barbarian female warrior. He also cursed to himself on how he had only one shot within the primitive rifle he had, as he caught site of a green figure, a grotesque thing that was the remains of a dead human explorer much like the other ones he had seen. He raised his rifle and fired the heavy calibered rifle into the corpse of the undead, the powerful rifle causing the undead to fall back into the dead dust with a large hole in it's chest cavity. Coagulated blood splayed out across the ground, disgusting the young Orc as he'd go to set his bayonet and settle the long rifle into a tactical position. A loud roar escaped his mouth as he would be seen driving the bayonet situated on the end of the rifle into various undead, following up with a series of strikes and so forth as he booked it through the small pace Fionn had made for him and the others. He was determined to make it to the obelisk, and didn't care if the others he had saw had gotten there before him, only caring for survival at this point as his rifle's buttstock slammed through the living remains of a human skeleton.

Never before has a dwarf been able to gaze upon the original works of his people. For so long they have had to scramble to retrieve scraps from the ground, never anything greater than a pot or stone tablet. Now here he was, standing before the most incredible find he could have ever dreamed of. Somehow though, it all just felt so...wrong.

Looking at these carvings, knowing that what he was taught as a lad about the history of this place, it was all true then. The dwarves of this place, his ancestors, were cruel taskmasters who raised the dead in order to do their bidding. Such an ugly history, a legacy which now belonged to Kazadime and his people, all while others reaped the after effects of these practices. Anger was beginning to boil in the pit of his stomach.

"I can't believe it...these were my ancestors...my kin" He said in abstract shock, the warrior struggling to keep his anger in check. "No...no this is not our way, this will not be our legacy!" With a swing of his mace, he struck the wall where a dwarf was carved holding a whip, disfiguring the picture as pieces of stone flew off.

Zharak needed something to work out his anger on. His expertise on clockwork machinery was not nearly expansive enough to figure out how to unlock it. Since he couldn't use his mind to be helpful, he would put his sword arm to use as he stomped his way back towards the entrance of the cairn. He would deliver a true death to the monsters coming for them from the sand.

"Look out laddy!" Zharak said as he got close to where the battle mage was making his stand. "I got a bone to pick with these bastards." A skeleton tried to rush him from his left, one swing took out its legs, the next shattered its skull into fragmented pieces. "More where that came from. Groch Mokar!"

Having been the second person to head down the stairs, Traveller had been able to look, with difficulty in the dim light, over a small section of the carvings etched into the walls. None of the books on the Rzailian empire could compare to the amount of knowledge he found before him. A university or a library would kill for a copy of these walls. In fact, the temple he was raised at would love to add this story to their archive. But for now the story would remain lost to the ages, as those who could record it were surrounded by an army of the dead. His gaze swept over the carvings and the recesses to the door. As Traveller approached the door, he knew he was out of luck. Locks were not his specialty. An ordinary door he could beat down... but not this. It was better left to the others in their group... assuming they could open it themselves.

Traveller turned from the door and went straight back to the doorway, where he could feel Fionn unleashing his arcane armament. On the way up he passed several of the adventures he had met earlier as well as some newcomers. He would have to speak with them later. There was definitely a diverse gathering of heroes; it wasn't a normal Ecetopia group that may form to stop the local bandits. He pondered on the way evil could draw good, like how magic attracted mages. It was a good thing, otherwise the universe would conquered by evil. Reaching the top of the staircases, and without further ado, Traveller released his large sword from its magical bindings on his back, then finally joined Fionn at the entrance. Fionn wasn't the only one up there holding the undead back, there was a dwarf swinging away.

Sword in hand and his arcane shield protecting him, Traveller went into the fray. His sword moved in a blur, cutting through entire bodies and shattering bone where the sword's edge didn't make clean contact. Every time he brought an undead warrior down he would 'blink' to the next nearby one, making him a blur as well. His shield flared here and there when hands swatted at him, but the undead here used numbers to kill enemies... not speed. Not yet at least. That was also a problem. One by one the bodies in varying states of decay went down, but to win any battle here Traveller would have to be killing droves with every swing of his sword. The best he could do was help keep the entrance somewhat clear for the others. At the same time the constant use of magic would tire him out. They would have to close the entrance to the city soon.

Gionni turned her head quickly. Some guy was running toward her. He looked young and not very much to her. She was already valuing him less than a five. As he rambled on, her eyes turned to the green light in the sky. She would have to consult him later about who she was as more monsters ruptured from the ground. As she took hold of her weapon, she suddenly remembered that she was in public. Even if she was in the wastelands, she had to keep appearances.

"Oh my," she said with a cutesy expression. Her legs buckled close as she held her mighty axe in her hands. "There is an awful lot of them. I hope you can protect me you big, strong man."

"As if."

She followed after Ivas, swinging her axe now and again, but letting the man do most of the work. Men became more protective when they saw a woman not doing as well as them. Better for her. She moved through into the new structure they entered.

"Hurry close the door!"

Leaving the dead and the doorway behind, Ivas made his way down the stairs and underneath the surface, calling for anyone nearby to join him. There was nothing out there for them--they made it into the dungeon, now the only way was forward! Or down. Sort of both, he thought, as he hopped down the stairs a couple at a time. On the way, he passed a dwarf who looked mighty angry and was running back up the stairs in the opposite direction. It was a good thing the stout little fellow was so short, as if Ivas hadn't been able to jump completely over him at the last moment, they might have bowled right into each other!

"Hey come back, mister dwarf! You're going the wrong way!"

He was just about to give chase when he was distracted by the realization that his leap had taken him through the doorway at the bottom of the stairs and into the large chamber with the statues, carvings, and seemingly impenetrable door. While the attention of others nearby was drawn immediately to the great door, Ivas was much smarter than that. No adventurer worth his salt simply barreled through such a large and decorative chamber without checking for loot first! There was guaranteed to be something valuable somewhere in here! Ivas set about examining the various statues and carvings with a surprising degree of focus and diligence, given his usual demeanor.

"Whoa, hey, what happened to your arm?!" he said as one of his searches took him close to Grug. "Are you okay? Here, I have these healing plant thingies! If you rub them on the arm it might make it feel better. Or maybe if you eat them. Can't remember which one! You'll figure it out!"

The boy reached into a pocket of his pack and took out what was likely his whole stock of healing herbs, given the size of the bundle relative to that of the pouch from which they were produced, then threw them at Grug like an expert pitcher making a fastball. A baseball thrown like that would leave a nasty bruise, but the worst this ball of leaves and stems would inflict was a sneeze or two if they got too close to the orc's nose. Seemingly assured that the issue was settled, Ivas returned to searching around and behind the statues, telling "mister old orc" to holler if he found anything as an afterthought.

He tapped his sword blade lightly on each surface to check for hollow spaces, shined the magical light from its pommel slowly across them to dispel illusions, and felt under every nook and cranny for hidden buttons. There had to be treasure in here somewhere, dammit!

Grace is not something Arex could recall seeing or experiencing much of since his sudden abandonment on this forsaken sand trap, but his landing, by far, was the least graceful thing of all his horrid experiences so far.
Literally slung-shot into the sky, the breath was stripped from his lungs as his flesh and face were sandblasted by the cruel gritty air. The unforgiving ground caught up with him much faster than his stomach or momentum could. On top of it all, somewhere along the trip his new friend had abandoned him too.

Plummeting heavily into the ground a dark plume of sand erupted from his shallow crater. Dazed and confused he was oblivious to the dangers that surrounded him.
He ached all over and could swear he undoubtedly heard the sharp sound of bones cracking and dislocating. At the very least his flesh and muscle would be badly bruised. Thankfully he didn't have too much of either. Beneath the dull throbbing there was a quiet chattering stirring from beneath his heavy frame. There was deffinatly something harder than just sand here where he lay. It felt like jagged or lumpy rocks. Rocks that wriggled and squirmed beneath his weight. Reaching up and clawing at him with long boney fingers. Jaws rattling, teeth slammming agains teeth as the dead snapped at him.

It was overwhelming, he was swimming in a sea of dead. Looming over him in the near distance a shadow was cast across his path as an image stood out from the sands unmissable and proud. "Not this fucking place again" he groans before letting out a loud desperate and deep roar of rage.

(Editing for Confusion:)

The Cairn / Near the Giant Locked Door

Nakreyya's eyepiece informed her as to the dangers inherent as she stepped forward. She could avoid loose rocks and shale - sidestepped stones slick with moss or fungus... and she kept her gaze steady for the telltale signs of traps and other issues. She realized, however, that her eyepatch only benefitted herself, it did nothing to assist the others to avoid the natural dangers of the cave. She decided to see if her glass eye would cast a better glow...

She had delved caves long before her eye had been raked from her skull, and did not technically need the assistance of the eyepatch, no matter how much she leaned on it for ease. Quietly, she reached up and pulled the eyepatch off of her head, shaking her hair free of where it'd been held down by the straps. She blinked a few times, and told the magically imbued glass eye to expend energy to glow. Suddenly, her eye was a torchlight in the dim dank of the corridor. She scanned around, letting her other eye adjust to the new light level.

She was passed in running by two individuals who had barrelled past her down into the main cairn and then back up to fight... She continued to move slowly, unconvinced that - even in their hasty look over the area - it was safe.

Quietly, Nakreyya walked over to a large door at the end of the hallway, looking it over with her one glowing eye. She did nothing but breathe for a moment, looking for traps, and pondering the best course of action to begin to open the door. It appeared to have some sort of lock on it... at least that was something for which she was quite familiar.

@Silvan Haven @Hekazu @EchoesofOld @Mataus @Ciaran @Normie @Tristwich @SpawnMeme @Kasai Uchiha @Dark Light @Liaison

By the Big Door I Guess

Ivas was quickly growing frustrated, despite his rigor absolutely nothing was coming up on his treasure sense. That, well, it just didn't make any sense! This was most definitely the type of place that should set it off blaring with alarm bells! He was about to ask one of the other random folks around here what gives when he finally caught a break. One of the carvings on the wall lit up with strange lights when his sword touched it! Jumping forward to inspect it closely, Ivas could see that it was quite different from the others. While the other carvings on the walls were more abstract images and symbols, drawn with harsh lines and rigid angles, this one was all round shapes and curving corners.

It depicted four young women of varying size and stature, who all looked extremely happy about..... something. Ivas was struck by how detailed their faces were for a stone carving, and how pretty the artist had managed to make them despite the rocky medium. One of them had lit up with a glowing outline when his sword touched her image, though it faded back away soon afterwards. He found that re-touching the picture of her re-activated the outline, and that he could do the same with all the others. The two shorter figures, both of whom also had short hair, were outlined in pink light; the second tallest, who had a long ponytail, in gold; and the tallest, who had long, straight hair, in deep blue. Turning all four of them "on" didn't seem to really do anything except that their lights no longer faded, but now remained illuminated.

"Hey guys! Check this out! D'you think this weird picture does anything? Maybe there's a chest full of gold behind it, if we like, figure out the puzzle!" he said to no one in particular.

Gionni glared Ivas with his inspection. She did not like the sight of the girl like figures present before them. The way he smiled and adored them made her mighty jealous. Was she not good looking enough for him to be gargling at him? She frowned at such a display of masculine aloofness. She struck her greataxe forward, missing Ivas by a hair. The blade struck into the wall and her hand came to her mouth.

"Oh I am sorry! My axe slipped. I am so afraid right now." She pulled her weapon back while being gleeful of her little trick there.

Now he has to pay more attention to me!

Ivas jumped in fright as a huge axe blade sailed over his head, nearly taking it off!

"Whoa-hey! Axe lady, there you are! I'm glad you made it, but watch where you're swinging that thing! Wait, hey...."

Following the blade's arc through the air, he could see that it had hit one of the girl-shaped carvings on the wall next to him--the taller of the two with pink outlines. The outline started to blink around the figure's neck, almost like the carving was suggesting that something was supposed to go around it! Then the pink light disappeared from the figure completely!

"Wow, check that out! The magic stuff changed! How'd you do that, axe lady?! Maybe we can figure this thing out together. Here, get on my shoulders, I'll give you a lift to get a better look at the pictures!"

Get on his shou--my word! He was serious! She was a little insecure about her weight sometimes. No if he was a man this was no problem. Yet he looked so scrawny. She pursed her mouth and would do what he asked. Her hand settled on a shoulder as she climbed on him. His strength was going to be tested when she was finally atop him. Time to lift, big boy!

Above Ground

Traveller cut down another skeleton before he backpedaled towards the underground chamber doorway to catch a respite from fighting. His arms were starting to feel heavy and he felt his endurance waning from the effort of keeping his shield up while also swinging his large sword. It was in the moment of rest that he heard one, no, two others fighting. "Fionn, Zharak!" He yelled, "there are two others fighting inside the horde!" They probably already knew but were too busy fighting to do anything about it at the moment. Zharak was getting his well earned vengeance and Fionn was gunning down the undead horde with waves of light. Both were doing an applaudable job at holding the undead back.

Traveller took a deep breath, then charged forward. He dashed through whatever gaps he could find in the horde and destroyed any corpses that got in the way with his sword. His shield flared as the army of corpses hammered him with rotting limbs, but for now he would hold. Traveller didn't exactly know how good of a fighter Sciaac was, just that individual had managed to stay alive this long. Luckily Sciaac was already near the entrance to the underground chamber, so getting back wouldn't be an issue, especially with Sciaac's firepower. Within moments of leaving, he had reached Sciaac. "Let's go!" He yelled before turning and cutting down some approaching skeletons.

@EchoesofOld@Mataus@Ciaran@Tristwich@SpawnMeme@Dark Light@Liaison



His breath was starting to come in ragged gasps now. The mage's magical reserves getting far too close to empty for his liking. It was all he could do to grunt in acknowledgement as Traveler rushed past him to rescue on of the two people remaining in the undead covered plains before them. Plains that were starting to overflow with the risen dead. Those on the outskirts of the horde being pushed into the surrounding wastelands to make room for the animated corpses still pulling themselves from the ground.

"Dwarf!" He shouted over the cries of battle. "We have thirty seconds before I have to fall back and collapse the cairn over the staircase. You need to go get the other guy out there before that happens."

It wasn't exactly the politest way to do things but he had neither the time nor the energy to care. As it was it took all he had just to keep enough light flying to clear the undead around them. Introductions and polite discourse could wait until they all had a moment to breath.



@CoyoteLovely

Nakreyya's keen eye did in fact notice a few traps on the door. Anti-tampering mechanisms that would lock down the mechanisms or slag them closed if they detected anybody messing with the lock. They didn't look perfect however. The highborn elf could already notice a few gaps that a clever mechanic might be able to work some magic.

@Hekazu@Kasai Uchiha@Normie

Perhaps smashing the masterful carvings of an absurdly arrogant race of dwarves in one of their hidden and magically sealed back entrances was not such a good idea. Green light spilled from the cracked section of the wall, helpfully aiding Nakreyya's own light in illuminating the chamber. The sickly glow falling upon three of the alcoves, revealing what Ivan had previously discovered in his search of the room.

Three black and rusting suits of armor stood motionless in the carved out sections of rock. Their plate seemed to absorb the green glow like black holes. Almost visibly sucking in the necrotic energy as most of the people in room looked elsewhere. There was no sound to the strangely beautiful sight, there was no need for it.

Sparks grew in the depths of abyss-like helms. Three sets of emerald eyes now scanning the chamber before them

Nakreyya narrowed her one good eye as she stepped forward toward the traps in the doorway. She pulled her eyepatch back off her belt now that there was light coming through some of the holes. She was not naive enough to believe the light was a good sign - however, she had more pressing issues, and there were fighters behind her who could deal with whatever monsters were animated as a result of their tampering and wanton destruction.

"I would ask that whatever this new source of light is, it be kept from me for as long as possible. This door has redundancy mechanisms meant to seal it permanently in the case of tampering... and I mean to tamper with it," Nak spoke in the direction of the two flirting individuals - the girl with the axe, and the young man she was currently attempting to seduce. She believed she also saw the shadowed outline of her companion Grug in the back, but she knew asking him to fight was ill advised.

The eyepatch was pulled back over her eye then, and she waited the few seconds for it to be powered up by the magic in her glass eye before it kicked into gear and began to feed her the information she needed. She knelt quietly in her place, setting her pack next to her so she could begin to pull tools and other items free for her use in dealing with the door.

@Hekazu @Kasai Uchiha @Normie @Silvan Haven

@Dark Light

The dwarf had a seen a lot of crazy things in his life, but flying people wasn't exactly one of em. Of course he wasn't so much flying as he was dropping down like a big heavy rock. Still, he killed a whole wagon full of the undead bastards, so he could forgive him for such an unorthodox entrance.

Everyone was making a fuss over having to escape, and the dwarf needed that fuss to get his head straight. Mindlessly killing undead filth was well and good, but there was a time and a place for everything. If he kept going now like some fool, he was liable to die before he claimed this place for the Ashen-Hammers, and that just wouldn't do! With his orders given by the stranger in the crazy get up, Zharak did what he did best.

He got to killing some zombies.

"Grak'Go'Roke!" He screamed out as he threw down one of his grenades towards an advancing host of undead. As it exploded, many of the bastards not destroyed immediately were set ablaze, and as it happened, fire spread quickly among rotting flesh. Charging forward with his shield in front of him, he ran to the cyborg as quickly as he could, trying to pull him up as the fire spread throughout the rank and file. Those that were all bones didn't catch easily, but the ones that had flesh were stupid enough not to notice the fire until it burnt them to ashes.

"Time to go!" He said in his heavy dwarven accent, pulling up the once falling man by the collar. "Gods yer heavy! Think ya might want to lay off the sweet rolls, Eh?" No time for making jokes, as a blazing zombie was charging straight for him. With one swing he broke open its knee and watched it flail on the ground as the fire consumed it.

"Its only gonna get hotter until we get into that cairn, lad, so lets get moving!"

@Tristwich

A muffled explosion erupted nearby partially awakening Arex from his stupor. Smoke and fire had began spreading amongst the ranks of the undead. The same undead that nearly buried him. A firm hand caught him by the collar and heaved him to his knees, and it wasn't an undead. As he knelt, he came face to face with a short yet strong stumpy red haired man. He could barely make out the words flowing out of his heavily bearded mouth, partially because the ringing echoing in his skull and partially due to the thick unfamiliar accent.

As a flaming corpse fell before them on a buckled knee, words or not, their path was clear. A soft whirrr emanated from Arex's cybernetics as he stood and stretched. It was followed by a sharp sudden grinding screech and the faint blue glowing as small arcs of electricity danced across damaged and dysfunctional components.

All in all he was still functional. Some precision, detailed or complex movement had been impeded but all general motions could still be carried out. He could still run and he could still swing a fist. So by overcharging his systems with hidden reserves of energy he found a new life and spurned on alongside the dwarf as they battled their way through the undead to the destination. Throwing corpses left and right Arex was a whirlwind of rage and raw physical strength, splitting skulls and cracking backs, he violently and relentlessly pushed on through like a man possessed.

His Dwarven saviour would quickly notice and understand the signs of on setting fatigue. While Arex seemed impervious to the zombies and skeletons falling around them, his stamina could not and would not last. They had to get to safety and quick.

In possession of cracking clench, he held on the fibula of a skeletal warrior with his own teeth. By his standards, this endless battle had already turned barbaric in nature. He did what he needed to in order to survive as he was scrambling, laying waste to several of the undead with his FMG-9 firearm, only once again to be swept off his feet by the resurging dead from below. Clashing instantaneously above his head was the skull of an undead warrior and the powerful blade owned by The Traveller. Easily the head of the monster was cleaved in two and the puss-filled, maggot infested remnants of what it called its brain spilled. Taking that opening, Sciaac used his upper right appendage and gripped the skull before him, literally tearing its frame apart with its dual clasp of its lower spine.

Promptly gathering himself, he rose to his feet, giving a nod to The Traveler as he did not need to help but he did. Sciaac was accustomed to being alone on most if not all of his previous endeavors. The notion of help he was thankful for, but it sparked a bit of unhealthy intrigue on his part. Who was this individual? Why did he help him? Why was there such an influx of warriors here period? Is there something they were after. Considering the situation, there wasn’t much time to inquire. Leaping with great nimbleness, he managed to dive down the stairs for temporary safety after running down the cleared path.

Now standing tall, Sciaac winced a bit, cracking his neck freehand. A little banged up he was, but for the most part, he felt par. Progressing forward seemed to be the only option so regardless of how he felt he’d have to endure. Despite what he just witnessed, a sense of exhilaration began to stew within.

Kolhatu sighed, mentally of course, since he had no actual mouth to do it with anymore. The visions of cute girls that he put into the foolish boy's head had successfully led him to this place, sure enough, but there was an unintended side effect. Since Ivas never did the proper rituals to interact with Kolhatu's blade, the spirit's meddling in his mind had left some.... crossed wires, so to speak. Now the poor idiot was hallucinating pictures of them on the wall, it seemed. If he wasn't just an abstract spirit trapped in a magic sword, Kolhatu would've facepalmed. At least his antics somehow caused the chamber's ancient guardians to awaken, exciting the warrior spirit with the prospect of a worthy fight.

Oblivious to the thoughts and motivations of his living weapon, Ivas struggled to hold up Gionni's considerable thiccness, absolutely determined not to wuss out in front of a girl even though his spine felt like it was going to snap any moment. He was a fine young man in fine young shape but this woman was just..... a bit bigger than him, to put it one way. It was good, because it meant the good parts of her were really big too, but then it was bad, because damn was she heavy! The axe alone probably added twenty pounds or something!

"So, uhh, see anything up there? Is there like a secret pocket if you try to reach into one of the girl's mouths or something? Try that! Oh, or maybe the hidden compartments are between their--ah!"

Ivas's naive ramblings were cut off by the burst of green light from the wall where Gionni had struck it, just like the massive wave of magic that had summoned all those zombies to attack them. He didn't know jack about magic, but that first blast of it had created a bunch of enemies, so he felt like this one would probably be bad news as well. Sure enough, several of the statues lurking around the room came to life and started to look around. Or were they suits of armor? Hopefully that was it, Ivas would totally wear a cool looking ancient set of dwarven necromancer armor, assuming it was still in one piece after he killed it!

"Holy crap axe lady! Look what you did! Those weird carvings must have just been a trap to turn on the real test to open the door!" Ivas exclaimed, dropping her completely with no warning to ready his sword instead. "Get behind me, I'll take care of this. There's no need for girls to fight while I'm around--I'm a champion at protecting fair maidens, and stuff like that!" he assured Gionni. She'd totally be into him after he smacked down some baddies! Man, this place did end up having hot chicks for him after all! Maybe a bit on the mature side, but what was that saying? Beggars can't be choosers? Ivas wasn't a beggar though..... oh well, whatever!

Above ground going below ground
Traveller was surprised at how fast the stranger, Sciaac, bounced back up after the undead warriors had been briefly cleared. If that wasn't surprising, however, an appendage from Sciaac tore an incoming undead warrior to pieces. Traveller's eyes went to Sciaac, and he gave a small nod of respect to Sciaac before following after the fellow warrior. After a few more undead fell, Traveller was in the clearing created by Fionn, the last remaining individual above ground. "Fionn, we're all clear!" He called out before entering the staircase himself.

Traveller paused at the bottom at the stairwell, where he swore he saw a bunch of glowing green emeralds. Ivas' reaction spoke differently though. It seemed as if a trap went off, causing more undead to rise. Except, Traveller could see now, these enemies were different. They appeared to be a sturdier foe. Once again, Traveller raised his sword, although this time he raised it with fatigue setting in.