Her smile brightened the dark night, in Roland's eyes. He barely reacted before she was already moving to the fore, summoning a bow and arrow made of light. Despite himself, Roland gasped in trepidation. He had no idea she could summon something like that! He suspected she had hidden tricks, but Baeldyr that was something else. Once the amazement was over, he did cringe a bit at the light show. If anything lurked in the forest, they would have seen that for hundreds of yards off.

Well, it couldn't be helped. And who knew, maybe they could take whatever the darkness could throw at them? Roland charged, leaping powerfully over a fallen branch the size of a log and entering the perimeter of the cryptyard, his sword twirling in the moonlight drawing the attention of the second draugr. Luckily, Roland had a belly full of food and plenty of room to maneuver, and while he still needed to be careful, the Draugr did not stand a chance, truth be told.

Sword flashing, he cut off a hand and stepped backward, letting the undead abomination stumble forward after him so he could get in another choice cut, this time at the collarbone. The things head hit the ground like a hardened melon and rolled into the graveyard. Still, he nearly had his eyes cut by the still moving draugr's remaining hand. On instinct he shoulder bashed the thing with his shield, cut its left leg out and let it fall over.

"For Eruvar and Baeldyr, I banish you," he breathed, driving his sword through the corpse's chest. It shuddered, spasming briefly before it fell limp. Roland had picked it apart as if it was a novice swordsman, which it pretty much had been, only unnarmed at the onset. He breathed in deeply and stepped back, wiping his hair out of his eyes and glancing over to see Iseldis approaching. He smiled, embarrassed yet somehow confident at the same time.

He was about to speak, before the Crypt door at the center of the graveyard opened.
@Luminosity

Iseldis had been about to comment on her abilities to Roland, and perhaps compliment his own, but then the crypt door behind him opened seemingly of its own accord. Or maybe not, as another draugr emerged, this one wielding a bow. Lacking the time to conjure up her own again, Iseldis summoned a smaller dart of light magic, and hurled it at the draugr. It whistled through the air and pierced the undead's upper body, throwing it off balance.

That was long enough for Iseldis to rush it, drawing out her staff, its white glow illuminating several feet around the priestess. When she neared the draugr Iseldis planted one end of the staff in the ground and vaulted at it, landing a strong kick to its head that knocked it back into the wall of the crypt's entrance. It was resilient, and it swiped its clawed hands at her, nearly catching her across her upper body, but Iseldis flowed backwards out of reach, twirling her staff around. She channeled her magic into it, summoning of wave of light which she launched from one end, a vertical line that cut through the darkness and then the draugr. Again as a creature of darkness it was especially vulnerable to her spell, and was burned vertically clean in two, the separate halves sliding down the stone wall to the ground.

It seemed calm again, and Iseldis worked to catch her breath. Powerful though her magic was, she was yet inexperienced, and it took a lot out of her. She needed to pace herself. Still... three more draugr had fallen before them, far easier than the two back in the village. She smiled again when she turned to Roland.

"Well, that brings us one step closer to-"

But she cut herself off, as her attention was drawn to the ground around her. Out of the crypt leaked a black fog, lingering along the ground no higher than a foot, but thick and plainly malicious. It coiled around the leather of her boots, and tendrils of it seemed it to grasp at the ends of her robes. It didn't even seem to care for the light of the staff she'd planted in the dirt. It wasn't directly dangerous, but it was a symptom of something that sent an unsettling feeling into the pit of her stomach.

"This is... worse than anything I saw at corrupted sites I was taken to as an initiate," she said to Roland, a bit of uncertainty creeping into her tone. "It's coming from inside the crypt, no surprise there. I should still be able to cleanse it, but I imagine it'll take a lot out of me." She winced. "Might need to hold back on the magic in the meantime." Little spells she could still manage without expending much, but combat magic was another matter.

She restored the hovering light spell, and tilted her head towards the entrance. "Ready for this?"

Roland had to admit he was feeling a tad inadequate around this girl. Not that she was far above him in power, but there was a measure of talent there he knew he couldn't attain, and she would only get better. Somehow, he didn't mind it too much though. Or at least, there was no jealousy. Still, it seemed even her powers of moonlight were waning in the face of whatever had opened the crypt door. The skin on his ankles felt deathly cold, despite being covered by multiple layers of clothing.

"Ready as I'll ever be." He told her, drawing himself up. He might be young, but he had an impressive build and a will to move through situations most others would run from. No one could claim he was a coward. Just a fool.

He made his way to Iseldis, and held out his hand. He doubted she needed it, but the miasma at their feet made them feel like lead from the dread emanating from it, and together they could power through it easier, he believed. Once or if she took his hand, they would move forward as one, stepping through the fog as if wading through swamp mud, trying to lift their feet above the ground. It didn't effect them physically, but their minds and hearts.

By the time they made it to the entrance, Roland had a cold sweat down the back of his neck. He breathed a sigh of relief as they made it out of the fog. "Don't worry about a light, I got it." he breathed, reaching into his pack and producing a torch. It took a few cracks of the flint, but once it lit up, he held it aloft. His blue eyes shined like deep sea sapphires in the light, and it turned his brown hair into woven gold.

"I'll lead." he told her, and with sword at the ready, he carefully crept into the open crypt, finding the small room a quick dead end. A small room where an elaborate coffin was place. After a quick scan, Roland wasn't buying it. With a strong grip, he pushed the stone slab off of the coffin to reveal a cracked stone stairway leading into the gloom. Dust and stuffy air flowed out of it in a wave, and Roland had to stifle a cough.

"Let's go, Iseldis." he told her, and they moved below...Into the Shadow.
@Luminosity

Iseldis was surprised that Roland offered his hand to her, and just as surprised that she felt like taking it. There wasn't anything tactical to it; neither of them were blinded by the fog or at risk of losing each other, and it certainly wouldn't help them fight any better, but Iseldis did find that it slowed the beating of her heart, helped her focus on the present and not let wandering thoughts get the better of her.

It didn't last long though, as Roland soon needed both hands to carry torch and sword, and Iseldis returned both hands to a ready grip on her staff. The darkness billowed out of the coffin that they passed through, momentarily swirling up around their waists, but once they were inside it settled down again. Iseldis lifted her staff out towards the walls where the torchlight didn't reach, studying what she saw.

The architecture of this place... it wasn't like any tomb or burial grounds she'd seen. Black shimmering stone lined the walls, and there was ancient writing beneath bodies inlaid in those walls, and she couldn't read any of it. The dead here looked barely human, and any that seemed like they might rise from their sleep Iseldis preemptively took care of, conjuring a small knife of white light and sliding it into their skulls, ending threats before they could begin. She didn't speak, or couldn't. It felt like any sound here could bring the dead down on them.

They arrived at what seemed to be a large central chamber, circular and littered with closed stone coffins, the floor hard rock beneath their boots. An ominous sight awaited them on the far wall: a large face carved in the stone, expression locked in a furious roar. Black, inky darkness poured from its mouth and nostrils and eyes, spreading along the floor.

"This," Iseldis breathed, approaching it slowly. "This must be the source. Not sure I can do this, but I guess we'll find out." It was indeed worse than anything she'd seen done by her brothers and sisters, and considering how drained they'd been, she knew she'd be lucky to walk out of her under her own power. But there was something else. Some familiar feeling that something was watching her again...

Iseldis heard it drop from the ceiling before she saw it, a dark feminine shape out of the corner of her eye. Next thing she knew she was hit by a blast of forceful magic that hurled her forward, separating her from Roland, who'd be lucky not to get tossed back. Iseldis slammed into the stone face and crashed to the ground. Though she was dazed she recovered quickly, pulling herself up out of the darkness with the help of her staff, and she laid eyes on her foe.

She didn't look human, with angular and alien facial structure, dark purple skin, sharply pointed ears, and completely black eyes, but by her shape she was definitely a woman. Long black hair tumbled down her back, but the most striking thing about her were the four spider-like limbs protruding from her back, each covered in some hard plating, and ending in sharpened tips like spears.

"You're a dark elf," Iseldis said breathlessly. "I thought your kind were gone."

"Exterminated, you mean?" she hissed, her voice oozing hatred. "Not yet, despite your kind's best efforts. My people are few, but we endure, and now we take revenge."

Thoughts raced through Iseldis's mind. Dark elves were thought extinct hundreds of years now, and indeed they had been hunted for their love of dark magic and corrupting themselves with it, as this woman clearly had. But they were said to each be very powerful in their own right. Far more dangerous than any draugr could hope to be.

"You won't get away with this," Iseldis assured her. "We'll stop you, and cleanse this darkness."

The dark elf laughed, checking carefully for any sign of attack from either of them. "You'll bleed and fall at my feet, girl. The Master demanded one of your kind, and I will deliver you to him. As for you," she turned her head to Roland. "He can make use of warriors like you in his army. A fine revenant you'll make."

This didn't feel right. She was too ready for them, and it had all been too easy up to this point, when a dark elf could have been throwing the worst at them at every turn. Iseldis felt the chill more strongly than ever, creeping up her back, and though she shuddered, she held her ground, staff at the ready.

"The only one who falls here is you," she said, conjuring the light to her hand.

The dark elf gave her a wicked smile. "I'll enjoy every moment of your suffering." With that, she rushed forward with immense speed at Iseldis, away from Roland, just as the first of the coffins around him burst, and draugr began to emerge from their resting places.

Roland instinctly squared his field and took a wide stance, almost kneeling to keep from being swept away by the spell of unseen force cast at he and Iseldis. Fortunately, his weight, armor, and stance kept him from being swept away. But Iseldis was tossed like a ragdoll, though to her credit she collected herself quickly. He wished he could count that as a blessing, but by the way that this Dark Elf spoke it was only going to prolong their suffering.

A Dark Elf! Here? There had been old folk rumors of small pockets of the dreadful people still alive far beneath the earth, but even had they been true, he never would have thought he would live to see one. She would almost be beautiful if not for her too-slender features and the spiderlegs protruding from her torso. Without a care to himself, he hefted his blade aloft. Such an unholy abomination should not be suffered to live!

"By Eruvar and Baelyr, I will kill you." He promised, his sword pointed at her neck. She cackled, and almost casually flipped her hand. A ball of fire coalesced before her, and erupted forth, spinning toward Roland. He cried out and rolled, his surcoat getting singed from the blast but otherwise he managed to dodge the sudden spell. With a growl, he charged her, thinking she would be easy prey in close quarters.

The squire did not count on the spiderlegs, however. Not only were they far stronger than the spindly limbs seemed, but they were razor sharp and one pierced his shoulder before he could reach her with his sword. Blood erupted from the wound and he screamed in pain as she laughed all the louder. Her hubris was short-lived, when his backstroke cut the leg that had stabbed him, and it was her turn to screech as Roland stumbled back, clutching the wound in his shoulder.

A few more inches, and it would have gone into his neck. "I'm ok, he said to Iseldis hoarsly, grimacing. His eyes didn't leave the fiendish fey, however. He clearly wanted to smite this dark elf without delay.

But could they survive the task?
@Luminosity

Iseldis meant to flank the dark elf while Roland had her momentarily preoccupied, but a cracking burst of stone behind her drew her attention, just as the cold, scratchy grip of a draugr seized her left arm. They were starting to rise from their sarcophagi, perhaps willed back to life by the foul magic of the elf. Iseldis reacted quickly, pushing one end of her staff into the coffin before the draugr could escape and sending a blast of her magic through it. With a bright flash the undead was put to rest again, and the grip on her arm lessened until she escaped from it.

Roland hadn't fared well in the meantime, though. He'd sliced into one of the elf's legs, but it wasn't severed, and he'd received a wound to his shoulder for his trouble. Iseldis weighed their options quickly; the quarters were tight, making fighting her two on one difficult with all these coffins around, and they'd have little way of seeing draugr coming. But maybe it was worth the risk.

"My magic can hold her," she said quietly, a hint of nervousness seeping through. "Try to get around her, but watch for draugr. We need to make this fast."

A brilliant spear of light formed in her hand, and she hurled it at the dark elf, only for it to be shattered against a shield of dark magic, bursting into a thousand tiny, fading lights. Goddess, she was strong if she could do that.

Nevertheless Iseldis charged forward into close combat with a flurry of staff attacks. The elf fought barehanded, but it was as though she had eight limbs to work with, and getting through was nearly impossible. Before long the attack was turned on Iseldis, and she found herself backing up, desperately on the defense.

One of the spear-like spider legs went low, the first to slip through when it stabbed into her upper leg. She cried out, blocking aside further stabs with her staff, but she stumbled back into a sarcophagus unexpectedly, and her defense momentarily fell apart. A punch caught her across the cheek bone, dazing her, a second slammed into her midsection, driving breath from her lungs, and then a fierce pain erupted in her shoulder, as she suffered a similar stab wound to Roland's.

"What was it he said?" the elf said, smiling wickedly at her. "Not a princess, are you?" Iseldis caught the meaning quickly enough. She'd been watching them this whole time. It sent a chill through her, even as she struggled to remove the leg stabbed into her shoulder. "Scream for me, princess."

The dark elf released a surge of black, inky magic from her hands, and it hit Iseldis point-black in the chest, knocking her free of the leg and sending her tumbling over the sarcophagus to the ground. Blood ran from her wounds, but the real agony was the wicked magic that surged through her body from head to toe, inflicting constant pain. She writhed on the ground, tears springing to her eyes and blurring her vision. And she screamed.

"Iseldis!" he cried, gritting his teeth and getting back to a standing position. The shock from being stabbed now overwhelmed by his desire to help his companion. Unfortunately, skeletal fingers snaked out of the coffins beside him, three hands planting themselves on his strong, young frame to keep him grounded. He tried to go to Iseldis' aid, but the literal hands of death kept him there. Growling, he pushed back against them and then pulled himself forward again, breaking free of two of the hands.

He grabbed his sword, and did his best to hack through the hand that still held his off hand, chopping through it with ease. Unfortunately, the Draugr that had tried to grab him were now pushing the slabs off their coffins slowly, ghastly moans echoing off the stone. It was a wail that chilled his very soul, and almost wildly he attacked them. His need to exterminate them giving him strength as he hewed at any that were clear enough to be cut down.

But there were far too many, and the more pressing issue was when he heard Iseldis screaming in unbearable pain. The moans of the Draugr had chilled Roland to his core, but hearing Iseldis crying out in such pain... something within him snapped. He felt his heart grow light, and his head began to burn, only for both sensations to give way to a fury he couldn't quite grasp. Everything became lighter and more easy to use, and if he had stopped to get a look at his sword, he would have noticed a faint glow to it.

But he didn't. With a flick of his wrist, his sword clove through the arm of a Draugr, causing it to drop the axe it had been holding. On instinct, he caught the ancient weapon before it hit the floor, and spun to launch it toward the Dark Elf, the creature too preoccupied with torturing Iseldis to notice the projectile before it embedded itself on her right breast. She staggered back and gave a blood curdling scream in anger and pain, feebly grasping for the axe.

Roland knew it wouldn't hold her, and he was already moving. Iseldis would feel the pain ebb away, and her body would suddenly feel weightless for a moment as Roland lifted her up protectively in his arms. "You're ok," he whispered to her once he scooped her up.

The weight would return abruptly, as the world would turn from dark to light to dark as Roland leaped into one of the opened coffins, not understanding himself why he did it. The flimsy stonework beneath them gave way with their weight, and instead of landing in it, they crashed through it. As they fell, Roland remembered why he had leapt it there. The coffin had been open and exposed with its fragile stonework when they had arrived.

They hit the next hard surface, you guessed it, hard. Rolling down a decline roughly until sailing through the air again to crash through ancient planks of oak and cloth. Ancient construction perhaps. It seemed a lifetime before they landed and stopped fully, but when they did the dust settled, and they could hear nothing of any pursuit. Iseldis would feel none the worse for wear, as the torturing spell had been lifted, and Roland had taken the majority of the hits from the long journey down. He lay below her curled form, on the edge of consciousness, his legs and arms not following his commands currently.

"Are..." he coughed. "You ok?" he breathed weakly, his world spinning. At least they weren't where they had been, anymore.
@Luminosity

For a time Iseldis couldn't comprehend much of anything beyond the pain, lancing white hot through her body and blinding her to all else. She knew nothing of the magic save that she didn't have the faintest idea how to defend against it, and the weightlessness and the fall were afterthoughts until they were almost through. That was when she spilled onto the ground next to Roland, their descent complete and her senses returning.

His quiet words barely reached her through the pounding in her ears. Her heart, she supposed. "I'm--agh." She'd tried to rise at least to hands and knees, but a sharp pain raced along her right arm and that side of her chest, and when the tears cleared from her eyes she saw blood dripping down from the stab wound she'd suffered. There was another in her right leg, on the outside of her thigh.

She gave up on trying to rise, instead rolling over onto her back and lighting a spell on her palms. They glowed with a soft white light, and she pressed one hand to her shoulder, the other down against her leg, searching until she found the torn hole in her leggings. It was difficult to pinpoint the source while there was still so much reverberating pain. Even with the dark elf's spell passed it was significant.

"I can... slow the bleeding at least," she said between exhausted breaths. She didn't have enough in her to heal the wounds properly, and they had to be able to keep moving. From her back she looked around. "Goddess, where are we?" By the looks of thing they were simply deeper in the darkness.

When she'd effectively slowed her own blood loss she sat up and did the same for Roland, pressing both blood-soaked hands to his shoulder and willing reserves of magic from deep within her. She was a mess, beads of sweat rolling down the sides of her face, her white robes dusted, spattered with her own blood, and clinging uncomfortably to her skin. Despite all that she felt chilled, and cold.

Her hands were shaking from exhaustion before she was satisfied with her work on Roland's injury, and the tremor extended to her legs when she tried to stand. She felt dizzy, sick, weak, and entirely unsteady. She was quite confident she'd never felt worse. She just needed to lean on her--

"My staff," she exclaimed suddenly. "It's..." It didn't need saying: it was back up above where they'd fought, where she had so swiftly lost. She knew she'd be lucky to conjure so much as a dagger in her current state. It took everything in her to keep despair from taking over.

This couldn't be how it ended. This couldn't be how she died.

And then that chilling voice echoed down from somewhere above. "The two of you have the sweetest smelling blood. Fresh and full of life. Run if you wish... but I do hope you're not finished yet. We've only just begun."

Whatever Roland did to her clearly hadn't kept her down long. "We need to move," Iseldis said urgently. "Find... some way out of here. If there is one."

Roland felt slightly better after she had helped patch the wounds up a bit. The throbbing in his head lessened, and through he was sore and still bleeding, he felt like he could sit up. Grunting, he slowly pulled himself to a sitting position, One hand on the hard floor, the other reached for Iseldis and cupped her cheek gently. "You good?" he asked her breathlessly. He knew they had just met, but already he found he was worrying about her, even if he took the brunt of the damage from that fall.

Once they lifted themselves off the ground, they had a few tunnels leading away where they could potentially go. Roland had never been so far underground, but he'd met more than a few Dwarves at his Chapter House. Their stories would come in handy. He whispered into her ear, making barely a sound. "We can't make any noise," he told her. "Sound travels in the low ways. Don't say a word. Just stay with me and keep moving until we can find someplace to rest."

He reached into his tattered bag and pulled out his last torch, lighting it up after a few cracks of the flint. It was their only light source until Iseldis got her strength back, so they needed to keep it safe. He might be slightly more worse for wear than her, but he wasn't as tired.

His hand went down to hers, and gripping it tightly he led her forward to the right tunnel. He didn't know why, he simply wanted to get going wherever they could, before the Dark Elf witch could gather her wits. Stumbling over fallen timber and jutting rocks, they made their way into the darkness of the tunnel. The air was dank and stuffy, Roland trying to even breathe as quietly as he could muster.

It took longer than either of them knew, bumping around the stalagmites in the dark. It could have been minutes or hours, but it felt like forever. At first, they didn't know why they were beginning to feel better about where they were going. After a few minutes, they realized there was light ahead of them. They slowed down, but the excitement between them was palpable. The young squire didn't know what to expect, but what they found wasn't what he would have imagined in his wildest dreams.

A large chamber, larger than the largest buildings Roland had ever been within, stretched at least a mile in every direction, including up. A vast forest of faintly glowing, giant mushrooms filled the cavern floor. To their left was a rise that led up onto a balcony-like plataeu, and they could even hear running water. "What in the Gods..." Roland said. He didn't know what to think, but in here was better than back there.
@Luminosity

Iseldis walked more or less in a daze, tugged forward by Roland's hand. She kept glancing behind them, hearing something in the dark, but at this point she couldn't be sure if she was imagining it or not. Roland didn't seem inclined to stop, so Iseldis was willing to accept that the dark elf had just gotten into her head.

And then they stumbled out into that subterranean environment, and all thoughts of their pursuer fled from her head. "How... how far did we fall?" she murmured. She'd never seen anything like this, and while it was beautiful to look at from a distance, she couldn't help but feel uneasy about it. No one that she'd ever spoken to had heard of this place, not even any of her brothers or sisters. Was this where the dark elf lived, in hiding? Were there more?

They were important questions, but the sound of running water was enough to make Iseldis put them off. She let go of Roland's hand to lead the way up the rise on the left, and there found a sheltered cave of sorts in the rock wall. A running stream from somewhere above turned into a waterfall that spilled over the mouth of the cave, close enough for Iseldis to reach it at the edge.

She washed her hands clean of the dried blood that coated them, and then cupped her hands to gather enough to drink. It was cool and refreshing this far beneath the surface of the earth. She washed her face next, the water helping to clear her senses some.

"I'm not sure how long we should stop here," she said to Roland, "wherever here is. She's probably still on our trail."

When Roland let himself sit in the small cave, he very nearly collapsed. He felt as if he had been walking for days upon days, his muscles giving way. He knew it was the fall and the battle, more than anything. He had gone days without sleep before and fought, but never against something so terrifying, and never after having fallen for dozens of feet, hitting various stones on the way down.

After a moment however, he grit his teeth and pulled himself up. The bruises and possible broken bones would need to wait. He was a soldier, and he would act accordingly. Getting to his feet shakily, he ran his hands through the pure, clean water that flowed down beside him and Iseldis. He was glad she was here. She was a good fighter, and truth be told he felt she had been far more effective so far in their travels.

At least he would be resilient, he thought, with some self depreciation. Once Iseldis had washed the blood off of her and gotten her fill of the water, Roland would step forward directly under the flow, so thirsty was he. The water poured into his mouth and into his thick, brown hair. Stepping out, he dripped like a dog that had just been out in the rain, and shook his body and head like one as well.

Wiping the hair out of his eyes and doing his best to fix it, he coughed. "You're right, we should keep moving. Let's just eat a small bite first to get our strength back." he told her, fishing into his pack to produce some jerky to eat. He knew if they wanted to survive down here, food and water were the most important things. He also refilled both of their canteens/water sacks so they would have plenty of water later on...if there was a later on.
@Luminosity

Truth be told, Iseldis didn't have much of an appetite. Maybe it was the queasy feeling lingering in the pit of her stomach, the exhaustion, or some effect of the magic she'd been hit with. Still, Roland was right, she'd lose what little strength she had left if she didn't eat. Her pack was quite small, given that she hadn't expected their trip to last more than a day and a night, but she did at least have some rations.

She lowered herself carefully to the ground against the rock wall, wary of straining the partially unhealed wounds in her leg and shoulder. She wanted to lie down, but knew that if she did, sleep would probably take her, and they couldn't afford to rest for that long here. She focused on eating while Roland refilled the water sacks.

"I feel like a fraud in these robes now," she admitted, not sure why exactly she was speaking. Something to help keep her awake perhaps, and it was the thing weighing most heavily on her mind. "My first real task, my test to become a full-fledged priestess, and I'm running for my life. My magic was supposed to cut that witch down, but she cast it aside like it was nothing."

The confidence she'd had felt so foolish in hindsight. Like an adolescent thinking she was invincible, when she was really more vulnerable than she possibly could've known. She hated the feeling.

"If it wasn't for that quick thinking of yours back there I suppose I'd be dead already. Or worse."

His companion knelt down to rest in the gloom of the smaller cavern, Roland listening as he refilled the skins. He had never been good at talking, at least to girls. Probably because he often went straight to the point. That and he had little experience doing so, having been trained in his Chapter house for most of his life. But he had seen his superiors comfort fellow knights and soldiers, and Iseldis had earned that title tenfold.

He approached her, handing her waterskin to her and giving a smile. If they had been on the surface or in one of the lesser caverns, it would be hard to see. But with the glow of the mushrooms outside of their small cave, she could see Roland's face brightening, dark eyes glimmering in the light. "Here, drink this. You'll feel better." he told her, and after he took a long swig of his own, he gave a light gasp of satisfaction.

"The order you're in must have a high bar," he admitted. "If you were a fraud, every other priestess must be masters of war. What I did? It was out of desperation and fear, and the..." he tried to find the word. "-desire to keep you alive. But when we were faced with the Dark Elf? And the Draugr? Only one of us acted without hesitation and that was you." He spoke earnestly, even chuckling at the notion of her thinking she wasn't worthy.

"Eruvar knows, you were amazing. Don't think otherwise." he said, his gaze leveled on hers. He gave a small smile after that. "Ok?"

Her order did have a high bar. Lunaia's servants had to be dependable and effective, because if they weren't, it was the people who were put in danger, the people who suffered. They had to be able to trust that if a white robed warrior came to them, the threat to them would be put to rest. And Iseldis had failed in that.

She took the waterskin and forced a close-lipped smile, taking a drink. She was frustrated, but she could at least recognize a few things. First, this wasn't truly her fault. Her order was supposed to correctly identify the strength of a threat before sending an initiate like her for a trial. This threat called for a veteran, perhaps a team of them, not a single initiate and an escort. Someone had made a horrible mistake.

Second, she recognized that Roland was attempting to make her feel better. It wasn't really working at the moment, but Iseldis knew that letting despair have free reign wasn't going to help either of them. There would be time to sort things out later, assuming they lived through this.

"Okay," she answered, nodding. "So what's our plan? We've no idea what's out there, but we can't turn back." Caught between the unknown and the witch, Iseldis figured the unknown was the better choice. Or at least the better risk to take.

Roland wasn't entirely sure if he'd helped or not. He'd been honest in his praise, she had done far better than he. But at least they could both now turn and face the reality of their predicament. He took her question and considered for a moment. They were better rested, but likely still far too roughened to actually try and fight the Dark Elf, particularly on the witch's terms. It was better to keep moving.

"I would like to stay here and sleep. But we need to put as much distance between us and the Dark Elf as we can." He said. He steeled himself, and groaning, he lifted himself off of his sitting position despite the protests of his muscles. Extending a hand, he helped Iseldis up and gave her a nod. He dearly wished his masters were here. They would know what to do. But he was trained to be a Knight, and so he would act like it.

"Let's move." he told her, and they passed by the trickling water onto the plateau that overlooked the strange jungle of mushrooms that glowing faintly over the carved landscape of hard rock. Gazing over the vast ecosystem, he could see no movement or any sign of any animal, so they began their descent down into the mysterious forest, turning left once they did. Roland had seen an exit on the far side of the cavern, and it was the only other way out of there.

Drawing his sword once they were under the canopy, he crept forward toward the running stream at the center.
@Luminosity

There didn't seem to be any sign of life from the outside of the forest, but once Iseldis and Roland descended into the depths of it that changed. The ground under their feet steadily shifted from hard rock to a softer wet dirt, nearing the consistency of mud. Before long her boots were starting to sink in a few inches with each step, and the ends of her robes were spattered with it. No avoiding that.

"There's something foul in the air here," she said quietly. It reeked of magic, which wasn't surprising, given that this place was unlike anything she'd ever seen. But that magic itself felt sinister to Iseldis. If she had to guess, the dark elf had been frequenting this place for some time. Years, maybe. She prayed there weren't any more of her kind, or at least none they'd run into here.

The only creatures she could hear were insects, an incessant buzzing and skittering that became noticeable when they entered the forest. High pitched whines of flies hovered around her ears before she swatted them away. Before long she began to get a sinking feeling, like they were being watched again. Before she only shrugged it off, but now it left her distinctly uneasy.

"I'm not sure we're alone anymore. How far do you think it is?" They'd lost sight of the exit, but if it wasn't too far, there was a chance they could run for it before they dropped of exhaustion.

Roland held his sword with both hands, the blade aloft like a beacon. It was true enough, because with how unpredictably dangerous it was in the underdark, a good weapon might very well save their lives. He heard her question, and then replied. "How far it is to what?" His mind on further things than the end of the cavern, or perhaps things still behind one would say. He knew there were dangers here, but the Dark Elf was the only thing that stabbed him so far.

He felt stupid questioning her though, once he had a chance to think. He was just tired, which made him dense. "Not far," he replied, giving an apologetic look. He wasn't entirely sure, but if he judged the distance right, they were past the halfway point of the looming chamber. He didn't feel any eyes on him as she did, but he trusted her senses more than his own.

Suddenly, the glow of the mushrooms beside them faded into nothingness. The two young adventurer's gasped, and Roland froze. The glow resided elsewhere in the cavern, but not at its center. They began to hear a faint ticking along the stone, and suddenly Roland realized there was something very wrong. "Run!" he cried.

Sprinting, they ducked and dodged the towering mushrooms, lights winking out every few moments as some thing approached them, perhaps a dozen or so meters behind. Roland glanced back, and he wished he hadn't. Running across the rock, knocking aside mushrooms the size of men was an enormous spider-like beast that looked as if it was made of pure darkness. The beast's aura winked out each light of the mushrooms as it passed them by.

"The tunnel! Go! Go!"

Iseldis didn't need to be told to run. She seemed to be sensing the darkness when it encroached on them, something she should have picked up on earlier in the forest. A novice's mistake. She turned and saw the dark spider beast just as Roland called to run, and then she was ignoring her fatigue to sprint and keep up, the loose cloth and silver ribbons of her robe streaming behind her.

It had to be the work of the dark elf witch, if not another of her kind. The magic was too familiar. Iseldis panted for breath but pushed on, resisting the urge to look up and see how far they had left. She had to watch the ground ahead and make sure she didn't trip.

She didn't expect the spider to attack from range, though, and was caught off guard by some sort of launched webbing wrapping around her lower legs, snapping tight around her ankles. Her feet locked together, Iseldis was pitched forward and hit the ground hard, suddenly spattered with dirt and mud. There was dark magic to the web ensnaring her, and it sent shooting pains up her legs.

Suddenly there was a yank on the webbing, and Iseldis was dragged backwards towards the spider, failing to find anything sturdy to grab onto. "Agh!" she cried out. "Roland!"

When it stopped, she rolled onto her back to find the massive beast looming over her, lifting one foreleg to strike down. Instinctively she called up a magic shield, a glowing white barrier of light above her. The leg came down hard and shattered it utterly, sending bright flares of magic in all directions that soon died out. The spider staggered back, dazed from the effect.

Iseldis was nearly knocked unconscious by the effort needed for the spell, and the force of the blow it received. Her vision darkened momentarily, and for a second she went limp, unable to force her arms to move. The spider was still stumbling nearby, but the magic webbing shot from its abdomen still had her legs locked together at the ankles, and it was obvious Iseldis was not going to recover in time to set herself free.

Roland had been almost too tired to acknowledge where he was or what was happening as the sweat poured down his body, but it all came rushing back in when he felt a palpable wisp of air from his right. He spun, and he bore witness to a nightmare in living form. The thing was massive, all eight legs the size of saplings, with a bulbous body that could crush a man under its weight. But it's terrible maw and its dozen, baleful eyes that pierced Roland's soul.

Hideously, it sucked in a form of webbing as it drew Iseldis toward its fanged mouth, retching shadow and heaving back its gluttonous form to further yank her closer. A part of him believed this was the end for her, and he was helpless to do anything as she would be devoured. But another part of him fought against that fear, and something deep welled within him as he grabbed his sword. Later he would realize it was her calling out his name that got his muscles to move and his heart to steel itself. For now, it seemed like the call of the Gods.

He drew his sword, and despite his fear he gave a roar, fierce and loud, but hoarse from how fatigued he was. Still, the chittering thing stopped its advance on Iseldis (after having shaken off the light shield) and regarded him with its eyes. Roland pointed straight at its eldritch face. "By Eruvar and Baelyr, I will not suffer you to live!" he cried, and the monster flinched as if struck. Roland did not hesitate. He charged forward, knowing if he didn't now, he never would. Briefly, his sword glimmered in the light of the mushrooms that had not been dulled by the creature's essence, and he stabbed forward, piercing the thing's thorax.

Screeching, the thing shot a web at Roland, taking him by the arm and flinging him at the mushroom behind him. He hit the trunk hard, knocking the wind out of his body and dazing him, his mind ablur with images of his training. He couldn't die now...it was getting closer...
@Luminosity

Light and sensation steadily returned to Iseldis. At first she only registered pain and the aching throughout her body, but before long she was able to take in the situation, the hideous dark magic arachnid hovering above her, battling Roland. She was still ensnared by its web, and since Roland was preoccupied, she'd just have to keep ignoring her exhaustion and free herself.

Iseldis managed to sit up, and crafted a small blade of white light, little more than a dagger. It was about all she could still muster, but for this purpose it was efficient. She sliced through the web, and then carefully split the bonds holding her feet together, freeing herself. She did so just as Roland was flung through the air to crash harshly against a mushroom. The spider advanced on him, ignoring the priestess beneath it. Iseldis had one chance, and she steeled herself, intent on making the most of it.

Rising slowly but surely, she stabbed straight up into the beast's abdomen, her blade of white light cutting right into it. She couldn't pierce very deep with such a blade, but the monster clearly felt it, immediately screeching in pain. Gritting her teeth, Iseldis tore the blade sideways, cutting open as wide a wound as she could before the dagger came free.

The spider staggered several steps away, sudden winds of dark magic swirling around it. It seemed to shrink as the clouds of darkness intensified. Iseldis dared not approach while the magic lashed out at everything near. Quickly it cleared, and where the massive spider previously was now stood the dark elf witch, the spear-like spider limbs still present upon her back, only now she sported a new bleeding wound in her side. She was pained, but if anything she only seemed angrier for it.

The witch advanced on Iseldis, who stood her ground. She still had the light dagger conjured, and refused to let it go for fear she wouldn't be able to call it again. The witch had taken her staff, the handle of which swung from her belt, but until she could beat her the knife was all Iseldis had to use.

She tried to use the brief moments before the fight to calm herself. Roland was still recovering, and there was no more running they could do. Iseldis would have to hold her off alone. Her heart pounded in her chest. Her breaths came in pants that she tried to steady. Sweat dampened her dark hair and dripped from her chin. No training could have prepared her for this, but by the goddess she would do her best to endure. She flipped the knife backwards in her hand and settled into a fighting stance.

"By Eruvar and Baelyr," the witch spat with derision, stalking forward. "By my murdered ancestors, I will make the two of you suffer."

She struck swiftly, forcing Iseldis to dodge. It seemed to take great coordination to use her hands and feet in tandem with the spider limbs, but she did so well, and always seemed to have the advantage, never giving Iseldis a chance to make a strike of her own. She danced away from strike after strike, a whirl of muddied white robes and silver ribbons in the air. She thought she finally had an opening, and tried to drive her knife down on the witch's neck.

Spider legs blocked her arm a few inches from the target, and Iseldis didn't have the strength left to force her way through. A punch from the witch found her ribcage, striking hard, and a cry of pain was caught and cut short in Iseldis's throat. Trapped at an intimate range with the witch, Iseldis desperately tried to defend, but the dark elf overpowered her guard. An elbow caught her jaw, dazing her, and another punch hit her head from the other direction, spinning her about. Dark magic then surrounded the elf's closed fist, which she slammed against Iseldis's lower back. Her back arched and became rigid as the magic surged through her body with an all-too-familiar pain, causing her to cry out in agony, tears blurring her vision again. She staggered forward away from the witch, her dagger dissolving from her hand into the dark, as the magic had taken the last of her energy.

When the dark magic had run its course, Iseldis's legs shook and then gave out, sending her falling heavily to her knees and elbows. Over the pounding of her heart she heard the witch laughing softly. She couldn't let it end like this. She couldn't. She needed to escape with Roland and bring some warning of this darkness to those it threatened. But no matter how desperately she gasped for air, she couldn't find the strength to keep fighting. All that remained was for the witch to finish her off.

"Are you spent already, princess?" she teased, stalking around to Iseldis's side. "I'd hoped for better, and you were so confident before. Now look at you. You humans are so frail."

Her bare foot shoved against Iseldis's hip, spilling her over onto her back, and there she remained, limp beneath the witch and clinging to consciousness by a thread.

"Be a good girl and stay put while I deal with your friend. Then we shall see how the Master wishes to make use of your pitiful lives."
@POOHEAD189