Taking a knee to better angle the box along the slide, his coat opened to reveal the haphazard stitching of pockets on the interior, each containing a wooden magazine for his armament. Kaeci's ears twitched with the familiar click of everything working as intended, quickly priming the weapon with a cycling of the lever. He was about to stand before a weight pushed up against him, nearly knocking him over. His grip on the crossbow tightened as he turned to find Eris snuggling up against his exposed side and offering a percieved compliment about his fluffiness before seeming to doze off. The demihuman was unsure which part of the scene to be more confounded by, that his traits would draw attention in such a manner, or that Eris could fall asleep in such a ruckus with a clear threat to her safety growing ever more present.
"L-" Kaeci began to stutter, blushing in spite of the obscuring fuzz before his attention was drawn back to the clash of weapons and other sounds of combat from the lines beginning to meet. In his distraction from Eris's attention, he had not noticed how close the orcs had come, and this was hardly the time to be hindered. "Lady Eris, please wake up! Zeis iz not zee time to be sleepink!" he pleaded, raising his weapon to fire a bolt into the chest of a charging, maul-wielding orc. The small projectile stuck into the monster to little effect other than slowing it as it looked between the wooden shaft and Kaeciel with crazed expression of amusement before hefting their hammer over their head. "Soch li'le toys!" the orc roared with laughter, responded to with an 'Eep!' from Kaeci whose ears folded back.

Hugging onto Eris, Kaeci rolled to her side just in time to be showered with sand as the great hammer beat into the desert with enough force to leave a crater where the two once were. Slipping his arms out of his coat with a contortionist's grace, Kaeci dumped Eris in the discarded garment and crossbow while the orc wrenched their weapon from the sandy earth. They were responded to with the song of Black Ambers leaving its scabbard, its claw-shaped guard clutched over its new master's left hand as per design and for a moment Kaeci felt like he was on top of the world. Scarf billowing in the breeze and standing between a vulnerable girl and certain harm, if it wasn't for the fear and adrenaline that made him visibly tremble, he would probably have looked pretty heroic.

Taking his fencing stance, Kaeci felt almost silly in a sense, as this was clearly not an equal duel, and the man had undoubtedly malicious intentions to cave their far smaller opponent. With no choice but to advance, Kaeci took a step and left a slash across the orc's chest, flicking his wrist to run the blade a few inches into the center mass of the man. Bolstered by sorcery, the brute had hardly flinched, growling as they rammed the center of the shaft into the beastman's shoulder. The blow rolled with him and into his throat which was thankfully armored enough to stave off the intended effect, though it still left him reeling from the force...enough of an opening for the orc to wind up for a proper strike with the business-end of the maul.
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Eris was fast asleep through the first half of the affair, until she heard her fluffy companion begging for her to wake up, given as the battlefield was unsafe at this time period, and that it wasn't the time to be sleeping. Eris took no heed and continued to doze off. However, her sleep was rudely interrupted by a charging orc, and she quickly woke up when she realised the gravity of the situation. A great hammer had crashed down mere centimetres from where she was sleeping, and had it not been for the quick thinking of Kaeci, she'd have met the grave given the strength of the blow. She realised that she owed this man her life, and she'd have to repay it if she could.
She realised she'd have this opportunity soon. Because she wasn't really moving, just trying to force herself to get up, Kaeci had taken to fighting the orc by himself. He was doing an admirable job in Eris' eyes, but he didn't really stand a chance given as his swordsmanship wasn't up to par, and neither was his physical ability in comparison to the gigantic specimen he was against. She realised that if she didn't interfere now, Kaeci was going to get his head crushed in. Acting as quick as she could, Eris flipped through her grimoire until she found her newest spell. She figured if there was any time for her to use her spell, it was now. She charged a large amount of magical energy and waved her arm furiously in a desperate attempt to save her friends life, and it worked. The orcs arms went flying mid-swing as the maul was about to come crashing down on the demi-human, and a massive amount of blood spurted out from the orcs arms. He looked bewildered, confused as to why his blow didn't connect. Then he had come to the reality that he no longer had arms, and was bleeding everywhere. He roared in pain, before dropping to his knees, and Eris breathed a sigh of relief. She'd managed to repay her debt of life, and avoid losing a new friend. She was glad that her pillow would live to die another day.
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Kaeci flinched, having started in the motions of ducking the swing before a spattering of blood and a roar of pain followed the heavy swooshing of the maul sailing off to the side, hands still gripping its shaft. Blinking, he looked to Eris and offered a thankful nod before elegantly driving his sword into the incapacitated orc's throat. Their eyes met, the orc's stumps twitching as if putting up an effort to stop him, resulting in little more than a few more spurts to be lapped up by the sands. "I am szorry I had to kill you..." Kaeci softly spoke, stepping forward and angling the blade down so the weight of the orc's body would pull his weapon free, dead before it even hit the ground.
Flicking his sword to the side, Kaeci followed up with wiping the blood from his tool of murder and returned it to the scabbard before retrieving his weapon of choice and giving the leaver a cycle. He looked back to Eris after concluding they were momentarily safe and offered a gesture akin to a curtsey.

Well this is less good. She thought as she closed with an orc who’d snatched up a nasty looking club to go with his sword. She’d encountered orcs who’d been dosed with whatever the green fog was before and it had not been fun.

Iroryn lashed out with a back-to-back Tempest slashes, throwing biting arcs of super cold wind into the attacker’s face. The first caught him across the mouth, and the orc staggered and coughed as his mouth and lungs were subjected to a brief bout of burning cold; however he retained enough awareness to throw his weapons up in front of his face to dissipate Iroryn’s second attack against the body of his weapons.

Though her attacks weren’t as effective as she’d hoped, they still managed to open up a bit of a hole for her to work with as the two of them clashed. She opened with a powerful thrust that the orc almost missed, but just managed to parry in time; instead of running him through, all Iroryn manged was a shallow slash along his left side. Dodging his counter attack, she swore as she saw the cut she’d just made immediately start to heal itself. As she circled wide, the orc looked down at his rapidly healing wound and laughed.

Moving as rapidly as the loose sand under foot would let her, she continued to circle the orc. ”Watch yourselves,” She called out between breaths. ”They’ve got a quick heal!” The orc rushed her, and she quickly found herself on the defensive, though fortunately the orc’s decision to use two weapons had halved his striking power, though thanks to the shaman, that was still rather significant.

Focusing on dodges and parries for the moment, she did her best to play ‘keep away’ while she waited for the right moment; unfortunately that was easier said than done, as the orc obviously realized what she was doing and began to press her harder. Giving ground back towards the other Irregulars, she felt a larger depression in the sand beneath her feet, and ‘stumbled’ just as the orc committed to a powerful double overhead strike. Rolling to the side, she thrust hard into the orc’s torso, burying several inches of blade between his ribs before hitting him with a blast of Ice Shock along the blade.

He screamed as the ice magic froze and tore at his insides while Iroryn yanked her blade free. Half-blinded by pain, he rounded on her and his scream became an enraged roar as she watched, what should have been a grievous wound, heal with alarming speed. She lashed out with a flurry of wicked Ice Shock backed strikes, and while the orc was able block her physical blade, he still took the brunt of the magical blasts to his head and face.

Eyes starting to freeze over and the cold searing his lungs, he staggered about, swinging wildly, unable to clearly see around himself. She backed off for a moment to catch her breath before charging back in. This time he never saw her coming as she drove her blade into his chest up to the hilt; as the orc toppled backwards, she put a boot to his chest and heaved, yanking the blade free. Blood gushed from the wound as she came in again, hacking once, twice, three times, at the orcs neck, finally beheading him.

Splattered in blood, her sword dripping, she looked for the next opponent.

Ariel closed her eyes for a moment, clearing her mind so she could focus on the battle. When she felt ready, she dashed forward, keeping her head and body low to avoid making herself a target. Behind her trailed her daggers, pointed into the air behind her as she held them next to her sides. Coming into the proximity of one of the shielded orcs near Olivia, she leapt high into the air, aiming for the orc's forehead.
Noticing her at the last moment, the orc raised its shield over its face, her blades hitting the rough metal of the barrier. Not perturbed, she used the shield as leverage to jump even higher, executing a backflip so she now stood behind the orc. She leapt on to the orc's back as her daggers began to emit a white hot heat and, pulling her head level with the orc's neck, thrust both into the front of its throat, blood spewing from the gash and spattering against her face as she opened the wound. She pulled her weapons out from the now dying and flailing orc as she disconnected from its back. In the process, the edge of its shield made contact with her side, its rough edge ripping through her leather encased waist and leaving a gory tear.
Ariel cursed as she almost collapsed from the shock of the wound. She had been careless, and now she had paid for it. "I don't have time for this." she growled to herself, touching the edge of one of the tantos against her side. She nearly howled as the heated blade sterilized the wound and staunched the bleeding, but she gritted her teeth and turned towards her next target, the orc rushing Shion with a deadly looking axe. Ariel rushed towards the heavily armed beast, attempting to ignore the frequent spikes of pain erupting from her side. While her actions had nullified the immediate danger from the wound, she knew that after the battle was over it would need proper treatment. This wasn't the first time she had been injured in battle, but it was certainly one of the nastier injuries she had endured.

With the Orc numbers dwindling the tides had turned sending the last two orcs into a frenzy. The final shielded orc facing Olivia went solely on the offensive swinging wildly with its sword as well as bashing at her with its shield. Her defenses held for a time but eventually the orc broke through. Its shield striking her head and sending her to the ground. The orc then went to follow up but was stopped as Stephan reappeared behind the orc plunging a dagger threw the Orc's throat. As the Orc dropped Stephan looked over at Olivia, she seemed to be knocked unconscious from the blow and was bleeding from the spot she was struck. He thought of making a snide comment to her but refrained carefully picking her up. "One of you with medical knowledge come with me. We need to patch her up. Also bring along the Ariel She will need attention as well." He said making his way to one of the tents which would be made into the medical tent for the moment.

Alm on the other hand had his hands full with the black orc. Unlike the others Alm wasn't able to dance around the orc's attack to find an opening. He was forced to lock blades with the beast and grapple with it. The exchange went on for some time neither able to gain the edge, that was until Olivia went down. With that Alm knew he had to pull out the stops knocking away the Orc before coating his blade with a magical layer of ice, His eyes turning blue in the process. After coating the blade Alm took a different stance. It seemed more feral and savage that his normally refined stance. The two went to cross blades again. But this time Alm blocked the blade with the back end of his weapon the staff end clashing with the Orc's blade. upon contact with Alm's weapon the orcs blade began to freeze over and was quickly shattered when Alm flipped his weapon back and the orc tried to block. His attack also took one of the Orc's hands with it. But surprisingly the Orc did not go into a rage at the loss of its hand. It jumped back surveyed the situation and knew it was in a loosing situation and turned to retreat. Alm almost went to chase the orc but let it run turning to the Irregulars. "Status report, how is everyone holding up?" he asked as one of Shion's arrows flew past hitting the running orc in it's Shoulder to the opposite side of the had Alm had cut off. "That's enough let it run. I know it will come back but we will deal with it then." Alm added as the original flairs burned out and the orc started to disappear into the darkness leaving the light of the artificial sun.

After the events of the Orc attack it took a bit for everyone to settle back in. Although not life threatening it seemed Oliva had received a concussion and wouldn't be able to move for a while. With that being said Shion and Stephan elected to stay behind in the oasis to protect her and keep a secure fall back position near the mission location. But things were quiet for the rest of the night allowing the group to rest if they were able to after the fight.

The next morning Alm gathered everyone up. "Alright so it looks like Olivia is out for a bit so I'll be taking over. That being said Shion and Stephan will be keeping this point clear so if there is any of you who want to stay here as well you are free to. Otherwise I'll give you all an hour to pack up what you would need for 5 days then we will head out. Yes I know we are only a day away from our goal but we don't know what could go wrong so pack extra. With that said I'll leave you to it." Alm said. He wasn't big on speeches but he hoped he got his point across. After concluding the meeting Alm returned to his tent to make his own preparations.

Selovia

After finishing off the orc with the stab of the throat. The battle was pretty much over. The orcs had made a retreat for the night battle. She was glad that the group had managed the threat of the orcs well enough. In fact, it concluded faster than she’d expect. And now that the few people of the band are keeping the watch for the night, it seems that she wasn’t really needed, for now.

“I’ll be returning to my camp, will be ready should there be anything.” Selovia walked off to her encampment, placing her spear back onto her holster. Returning to the camps, that might not be a good idea so, after the surprise visit from those orcs. Selovia placed her spear by her side, within arms’ reach. Should there be any further attacks,…

But for now, she’ll have her long beauty sleep, before what that goes ahead. Pulling on the blankets, the night of the desert was freezing, especially when sleeping in her plate armour.

The time of the morning was peaceful, as she got herself up, lazily. The group are about to move ahead, She thought, gathering her lightly-packed supplies.

Recomposing himself, Kaeci scooped his coat back up with one hand, holding his crossbow up in the crook of his elbow with the other while surveying the battle. In confusion, he watched the larger and darker orc flee after having its hand hacked off. Seeing the first arrow strike it in the back as it ran, Kaeci leveled his own weapon to join in before receiving the order to let it go. Somewhat disappointed, the demihuman popped the box out of his crossbow enough to ease the string down and slip the otherwise locked bolt back into its magazine. No sense risking the thing going off by accident.
His ear twitched at the call for someone with medical knowledge, having just noticed the casualties. While Ariel didn't look too bad, Olivia being clearly unconscious was worrisome. Thankfully, Kaeci was unfortunately versed in tending to such injuries and obliged in following Stephan in spite of the previous warning, assuming the situation overrid such idle cautions.

On the walk over, Kaeci undid the belts that made up the collar of his armor to feel at where he'd been struck. Drawing his hand back, clean, elicited a small sigh followed by a soft musing to himself, "Iz only bruises."
It was a long night for sure, but nurse Kaeci was able to slip back into his tent, taking only enough time to peel off their chestpiece before falling asleep.
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While Olivia was still incapacitated, it was more or less a waiting game at this point and was more or less out of Kaeci's hands. The invitation to continue ahead with Alm, being so close to the objective, he could hardly say 'no' and was already sorting through his stuff mere moments after Alm adjourned the meeting.

As she saw the remaining orcs fall back, Iroryn let out a long breath as her sword tip dropped. Well THAT was fun… She thought before answering Alm. ”Still good!” She answered before looking about; she’d heard the asshole say something about wounded. A quick look showed him with and out cold Lady Olivia and that Ariel seemed to nursing a rather nasty gash to her side.

”Shit,” She said as she hustled over to Ariel. ”Got you good there. C’mon, lemme have a look. I’m no ‘professional’ but I’ve done this before.” She threw herself under Ariel’s arm on the wounded side to ease strain then motioned back towards the standing water of the oasis.

At the end of it, Ariel almost stumbled to the ground, the pain of the wound almost overtaking her, and accepted Iroryn's assistance with a pained thank you. She leaned heavily on Iroryn as they made their way back towards the oasis. "I-ow-did my best to treat it." She gasped, attempting to ignore the pain. "But a dagger isn't exactly a bandage." As they went she felt something drip down her side. The gash must not have been fully closed by her actions, or it somehow reopened.

Easing Ariel to the ground beside the water, she muttered an apology as the other woman flinched. ”Sorry ‘bout this.” Once she had Ariel down and leaning to her ‘good’ side, Iroryn lifted Ariel’s top as carefully as she could to get a look at the wound. ‘Flash sealed’ by Ariel’s tanto, the rather ugly wound was still letting too much blood out, and it looked like some other stuff had been caught in there as well.

”This’ll sting a bit.” Pulling out her grimorie, her lips moved as she cast ‘Water Whip’ and pulled a tendril of water out of the oasis and used it to wash Ariel’s wound. Once clean, she had Ariel put as much pressure as she could stand on it with her hand, while she went for a bandage.

Ariel gritted her teeth as Iroryn proceeded to clean the wound with the water tendril, pain flaring randomly up her side, all the while trying not to look at the source of her discomfort. Once it was finished, the pain subsided to a dull roar, and she allowed herself to look the tear. It looked, and felt, a lot better now that it was clean. "Thank you." She said gratefully as she kept her hand on the wound, ignoring the blood leaking from the cut. At least now, the gash would have a chance to heal somewhat cleanly. "This is going to leave one hell of a scar once it finally heals." She thought to herself, once again cursing her carelessness. At least it was a spot that would normally be covered, which was a small blessing.

Hustling back to her kit, Iroryn rummaged through until she’d dug out a clean-ish undershirt; she knew she hadn’t had any bandages, so she needed to improvise. Crouching beside Ariel once again, she borrowed a tanto to rip the shirt into several pieces, folding up a few to stop up the wound and then binding it in place with the rest. ”There, that should hold up until the bleeding stops, but I’d really go see a proper healer when we get back.”



The next morning brought some troubling news in that Lady Olivia still had yet to wake up from the blow she’d taken. She was dubious about Alm’s decision to leave the Asshole behind as one of the people to keep an eye on her, but she kept the opinion to herself.

Gathering up what little she’d brought didn’t take much time, and in short order she was ready to go. While waiting for the order to move off, she sidled over to Ariel and asked in a low voice. ”You good to go?”

After the hour of allotted time Alm gathered everyone back up and continued on their way. The day was extremely hot slowing the groups pace as Alm made everyone break regularly to drink water and get some shade if possible. But luckily by the end of the day what would turn to be the Ruins they were looking for rested on the horizon. Alm shortened the lookout shifts taking the final shift for himself that night and woke everyone well before dawn to make the final bit of the trek while it was still cool.

-=The Tomb=-

On the Dawn of the groups fifth day in the desert the Irregulars stood at the front of a ruined temple. "Looks like we made it." Alm commented before starting to make his way for the entrance. But even at this point things did not look good. There was no sign of a lookout that would of been posted by the caravan guards or any sign of a caravan at all for that matter. Alm instructed everyone to be on guard and holler if they noticed anything out of the ordinary. As they approached Alm's stance changed. "Weapons up people there was a fight recently." Alm said readying his own weapon and taking a cautious advance. It wouldn't be until the group got within 20 feet of the entrance that the rest of the group would get what put Alm on edge as a heavy scent of iron filled the air. Once reaching the opening Alm told everyone to take up positions and wait or his order before heading into the Ruins first disappearing into the blackness just beyond the door. In a few moments that felt like minutes things were silent before Alm gave the all clear for the irregulars to enter.

Walking from the sun into the darkness was a bit blinding at first as everyone's eyes had to adjust to the dimly lit main hall of the tomb. This was coupled with a wall of stench that comes from corpses left to rot. As their eyes adjusted the sight would unfold before them. Sir Frances' caravan had indeed been here and used this entryway as their camp. But now they were no more, bodies lie ripped to shreds some pinned to walls with spears and arrows and may others lie dismembered with severed limbs. It was not a pretty sight but one Alm had seen a few times in his years. But strangely enough there was no bodies of whatever attacked the group either this was a one sided fight or someone/something removed their own corpses. After everyone had entered and it was evident that they weren't going to be attacked Alm gave out his orders. "Kaeciel, you and Selova do some scouting. Don't wander off to far and keep you guard up. Iroryn and I will take up watch, and everyone else search this mess for any clues on to what is going on here." After giving out the tasks Alm quickly dug into his pockets to find a green scarf that he used to cover his nose, anything to dull the smell, before moving to a good spot he could use to pose as lookout.

Their hood pulled up and ears folded back within, Kaeci knelt after given the command to wait. After a few moments, he racked his crossbow, a somewhat blank expression on his face being teased with the worried furrowing of their brows. Darkly, they were thankful Stephan had been left behind as the situation progressively became more grim by the second. "Miss Selovia, I do not szink vee haf been acquainted. Eit iz a pleasure to serve vith you" the beastman quickly spoke, having never even looked in their direction until this moment, a glance. Their hands continued to aim towards the doorway Alm had disappeared into. Their head looking down and then back to the task at hand, "Vould you-" they began, moments before Alm returned to give the 'all clear' and Kaeci apparently discarded his line of question in favor of advancing. Keeping low, they swiftly approached, entering and sweeping the room with their weapon leveled in the event there was something their new leader had missed. Unfortunately, the motion forced them to take in the sights of smell that money had once been placed on the prediction of. Kaeciel, after a sharp inhale, nearly tripped over his own legs as he scrambled back to the doorway, eyes wide and shifting about the room. They took the smallest of breaths as if to confirm their previous notion and crumpled, dropping their crossbow in favor of holding onto the doorframe as they were promptly sick out onto the sand.
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What if? What if?

Two Weeks.
It had been two weeks since the expedition had arrived at this site. Sir Frances had been a half-decent leader, to the surprise of a few of the experienced members in it. Ashdane had figured the man to be a half-assed noble who’d caught the wild hare and wanted a quick profit with a bit of adventure, maybe some good old fashioned glory. Ashdane still hadn’t thought himself wrong for that assumption. After all, they’d found these tombs in a reasonable time, perhaps he’d gotten news about it somewhere and planned a spelunking to it for weeks, months, or who-knows-how-long. The crew had been well-thought out, a sign that Frances had been putting more thought to it than your average noble. A person had been lined up to deal with most tasks, someone to read strange letters, a guide to navigate the desert, a survivalist who would get them through tough times such as supplies running out or the group coming under attack from an orc raid. The medic they’d brought along had been a victim of that one. Luckily, the group hadn’t had to deal with any wounds beyond the abilities of first aid. Besides the medic’s, of course. Then they’d gotten to the tombs. Whoo-hoo. Getting in had been easy. Getting in deeper had been easy, too. After that, came an attack. Unexpected, unexplained, unprepared. The expedition had more or less been beaten, broken, beheaded; well, some of them. A good number got impaled and their bodies placed on spikes, likely to be saved for later. Others, the dear Sir Frances included, had been dragged off into the darkness.
What if? What if?

Ashdane tried to push away the thoughts that came unbidden to the forefront of his mind. He knew how they would end and didn’t want them to. Even twenty years later, he was still playing that “what if” game. Testing possibilities, feeling out potential with his imagination. Sometimes he could even pick out signs that seemed more like signals. He still hadn’t expected what had finally come. Shaking his head clear, the mercenary returned to watching the horizon. Five days out, fourteen in the tombs, two more since the ambush, twenty-one total. If he knew nobles, then his dear wife would have been worrying about her lord hubby and hired a group to look for the expedition. With any luck, it would be a half-competent group of people with enough supplies to safely extract the survivors. By Ashdane’s estimation, he may be the only survivor. And yet…(edited)

What if? What if? I’m not the only one?
Surely he would be. Frances had been dragged off, along with a few others on the day it happened. Others still stuck to spikes. If not to do the same to the taken, why take them? If not to keep them as food, or as some sort of resource, why need them? There was something logical to it, surely. But it didn’t matter. The expedition had been defeated. The group had failed. Together, they’d been ambushed and slain. Now Ashdane remained, lingering just beside the entrance, ready to either run out if more of those things came from the inside of the tomb, or to run inward if opposition found its way in. And then, fortune came around. Movement on the horizon, figures that began to resolve into a group of un-orc-ish shapes as they approached the tombs. Ashdane had nothing to go on to believe that they were friendly, outside of the chance that they might be hired by the lord’s wife, but they certainly did appear to be making their way closer.

What if they’re bandits? What if they wouldn’t care for your life? What if they’ll take what rations you have left, steal your gear, and be gone before you’re even dead?

If they really were coming this way then, one way or another, Ashdane would end up learning why there were here and what they wanted. He needed to make himself scarce, if only because what they wanted might be his loss for the time being. Had to conceal, yet stay close enough to catch echoes of what they say upon arrival. Their intentions had to be known before they found him.
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“And its nice to meet you too, I’m Selovia,” Selovia could understand what Kaeci said, for there are people that she knew with more indistinguishable manner of speech from her time as a child. She tied her hair into a braid following the morning of the hot desert. Selovia lit up her lantern upon reaching the entrance of the old ruins. The corridor seem to stretch into an endless pitch of black to her. She mostly followed Kaeci from the back. The smell of those corpse was as ever pungent. Placing a scented cloth over her nose to keep the miasma away, she sniffed at the sight of the litters of corpses along the dark corridors of the ruins. Were there traps in this place?
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Having returned after receiving the command from Alm. Every second of being in the now tomb was horrible, assailing his senses with profound deaths and the imagination that relived the suffering of the corpses. Instinct screamed for the bunny to flee, but he shakily followed suit with Selovia to pull his scarf up over his mouth and nose...not before allowing himself a few small swishes of water to force the taste of breakfast back down. "Iz bad ideas, Selovia" Kaeci shakily whispered after a minute of carefully stepping through the room to avoid both blood and bodies. He was blatantly distressed, pulling his hood down to allow his ears to stand at sharp attention, "Il y a trop de fantômes, ici..." His whispers were becoming softer, still barely audible but intended for himself with the tone, offering little comfort as the words were laced with fear and superstition. The display was certainly having its intended effect, at least as far as the beastman was concerned. If it were not for Alm's order to scout, he'd already be half way back to the oasis with the overwhelming terror that crept under his skin, making his teeth briefly chatter. Holding a hand to his face to force it to stop, he looked down as the light from Selovia's lantern glinted off of a thin wire. Strung across the entrance to another passage leading deeper into the tomb, its design was unclear save for the suspicion of serving as a trigger for some form of trap. Regardless of if it was intended as an alarm system or to spur a cave-in, there was no sense triggering it to find out. "Vire!" Kaeci hissed, pointing out his find and stopping to survey the area past it, optimistic that there was only the one. Drawing a piece of chalk and drawing a line under the wire to mark its location, he stepped over it and shivered once more before continuing down the hall with some haste, eager to be away from the gore, behind him.
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Soft steps followed by a somewhat heavier footfall. One might have been adept at sneaking about, making little noise as they went. The other, however, must’ve been less experienced at the art. Armor’s clink and clang sounded through the corridor where Ash remained, just at the edge of the corner. He wanted to listen, wanted to determine what to do, wanted to know what they were here for and if they could be trusted to not harm him. You had to be careful like that, when distrust ran so heavily in your mind.
Possibilities were numerous, but some tidbits here and there could narrow them down. If a man were ordering a guard post up, then it could be for the completely logical reason that danger lurked about and your people needed to be warned and ready. On the flip side, that same guard post could look out for potential witnesses and deter them from coming closer, allowing a person to get away with more illicit acts such as murder, pillaging, and other mischief. While the chance of innocents being seen in the desert this far out was unlikely, one could never be certain what to expect out in the wilderness. It could be the one day that some merchant comes by with his goods and beasts of burden, or perhaps a monster might be hanging around some new hunting grounds.

Maybe, the most unlikely of possibilities, was that the deserted place that your group had agreed to set up camp in could be filled with hostile characters, traps, and bad manners. While Ashdane could be excused for the first two, bad manners were just bad no matter where you were. If those weeks spent exploring and surviving these darn tombs hadn't made this place his home for now, then he didn't know what did. So he stood, just around a corner, hand wrapped around the hilt of his sword (which was undrawn per civil manner of parley vis-à-vis intruder), and the other on a throwing knife, with a trip wire near the end of the hallway facing the entrance. The wire, of course, hadn’t been connected to anything (his primer was running low), but if someone tripped on it he’d have a great pre-emptive and a fun story. Then it got found. Well, there went that fun. All the same, it was for the best. Some trip wires could end in messy twists and sprains and that just didn’t serve for a good dialogue starter. Neither did swords, but some exceptions needed to be made when dealing with potential bandits, brigands, bastards, mercenaries, raiders, looters, pillagers, groups of-
Rabbit?

The soft footsteps had been approaching his corner and, in response, Ashdane had turned the corner to address and/or attack the scout. Instead, his first observation had been of a particular beast-kind he'd never seen before. Most of his experience had been derived from more…feline-like? Lions, tigers, even a particular lynx. A rabbit? That was new. “You…are adorable.” What if that’s bad manners for them? Good question. What now? Behind the rabbit, Ashdane caught sight of the other scout, the one whose steps had echoed in clinks and clacks. Old instincts kicked in as he scanned her. Rabbit and a noble. Her slave? Is this another expedition? What if? What if?
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As a figure rounded the corner, an audible gasp escaped Kaeci; if he could have gone more pale, he likely would have. The compliment eluded the bunny who swiftly racked their crossbow in the panic. A loud snap rang out as the lever stuck, the fork in the mechanism having failed to catch the string, thankfully resulting in a jam which saved Ash from receiving a bolt to the chest at point-blank range. Stunned, Kaeci looked from his shaking hands to Ash and then to his weapon he nearly dropped with the realization that he'd nearly shot what was likely the sole survivor of the massacre. "Sir! I am so sorry!" he whimpered with shame for letting himself get carried away with his fear. "I vould have almost be puttink bolts in you!" Kaeci explained, his common breaking down from the waves of emotion even as he continued, "Please forgive me, i-iz a place zeht vould not be szinkink to see life!"
Their ears folded back as their mannerisms filled in the gaps in their words, briefly glancing back the way they came, imparting their surprise and relief to have found someone after what they'd seen.

Like everyone else she was glad to see the temple, but the lack of any sign of the party they’d been hired to locate had her drawing her blade before Alm gave the word. Catching the iron tang of blood on the air, Iroryn half-expected an attack as soon as the Irregulars got close. None came, but that didn’t mean there was no danger.

When Alm gave the word to move in, she positioned herself out front trusting her ears more than her eyes to warn her of an impending threat; nothing came of it, but it was clear the noble’s party wasn’t so lucky. The ‘unique’ aroma of blood, bowels and decay was something she was fortunately familiar with so she did her best to simply ignore the smells as she carefully inspected the site.

”No dead,” She muttered. From the looks of things the expedition hadn’t been caught off guard, and yet the attackers had left no bodies…that said unpleasant things about the type of enemy they’d been facing. Poor little Kaeci’s stomach got the better of him and she grimaced in sympathy, recalling her first time coming across an ambush, and that one hadn’t been nearly as bad as this.

She considered poking through the bodies to see is if the target was there, but none of the dead looked well kitted enough to be a noble…and she had no idea if there were any specific features to look for, so she left that fun job to Alm and cautiously moved out from the ambush site. Her eyes were beginning to adjust to the gloom and she was about to probe into one of the darker corners when she heard the *wack* of a failed crossbow shot. Rushing to the noise with her blade ready, she found Kaeci apologizing to an unknown figure. Odds were the man was a survivor of the expedition, but one should never assume.

Needs some steel in that spine if he wants to last, She thought, looking at Kaeci as she came up. ”Hoy there!” She called out, blade still at the ready. ”Kaeci, why don’t you take your new friend there to see Alm; maybe he can shed some light on this clusterfuck.” She added with a smile. ”I’ll keep watch in the mean time.” She gave the newcomer a cautious, but not unfriendly, nod in greeting.

Ariel grimaced as they entered into the room of corpses after Alm had given the okay, the stench of death hitting her almost like a wall. She squinted and turned her head around in an attempt to get a better idea of their surroundings in the dim light, tying a piece of cloth around her mouth and nose in an effort to keep her previous meal in her stomach. From what she saw, she was almost certain of one thing. Whatever had killed these men, who she assumed to be the expedition, was not human. Or if it was..."They are inhumanly strong..." she breathed as she examined the remains of one of the men, pinned to the wall and missing all of its extremities. She was no stranger to death. Hell, it was pretty common in the darker parts of the City, but she had never seen anything this grisly.

Ariel winced and wrenched her gaze away from the poor man's remains. Part of her screamed to run far, far away from this madness, to return to her comparatively mundane life in the City. But at the same time, she knew she couldn't, and she cursed silently at herself as she checked the corpses one by one for any signs of them being the missing noble. "How do I keep getting myself into these situations?"

As she proceeded with her sombering task, a worrying thought occured to her. She couldn't be certain, but none of the bodies appeared to belong to the offending party. Were they too quick to hit, or immortal? Or was there something more to this whole scene that she wasn't seeing? Shaking her head, Ariel picked up a sheathed short sword, its owner presumably never having gotten the chance to draw it from its hardened leather sheath.

Alm had made his way to a dilapidated pillar while keeping watch. As he climbed up he noticed an intricate drawling carved into the stone. He wiped away some of the dirt and looked at the ancient drawings. The hieroglyphics were well beyond his ability to translate, but one marking stood out to him; some sort of snake depicted in crusted stone. After taking a bit to study, Alm turned his attention back to observe the room. So far everything was still quiet, such enough that Alm's gaze began to wander. Among the nearby dead Alm spotted a notebook sticking out fromf the pocket on a dead mercenary. He quickly hopped down and plucked the book from the pocket. "Lets see what you had to say," Alm said out loud while he started to flip through the pages.

It wasn't too much later that Iroryn ran off in the direction of the scouts after hearing some sort of noise. Alm readied himself at her movement and called out for the others to do the same. "Dammit we're to spread out... and running off on your own didn't help" Alm muttered to himself as he tried to make a plan for the situation. Luckily it didn't seem like there was any danger as a few moments later the scouts and Iroryn returned with another human in tow. Alm took a moment to look over the newcomer. "You must be Ashdane," Alm said while waving up the journal he had been reading, "The Captain here seems to have thunk you were a capable sort, although it does seem you two didn't get along to well." He continued looking at the pages once again. "So can the "Insufferable Bastard" give us a clue into what was going on here?" Alm asked reading the title from the book then looking back at the group.

But before Ash could respond a noise filled the tomb that filled Alm with dread. An Orc war horn came from outside the tomb and Alm looked around frantically. "Everyone follow me, now!" he shouted, darting off into the pathway opposite to where Ash, Iroryn, and the others had come from. The Irregulars quickly dropped what they were doing and followed Alm, the last member disappearing into the darkness just before the first orc made its way into the chamber. Soon enough, some forty Orcs had made their way into the tomb. At the entrance stood what must of been the Orc Warboss with a familiar one armed black orc at his side."I though you says them gitts be in here?" The Warboss said to the black orc. "Dem Humies must be deeper in boss. I swear they waz here," The black orc replied. the Warboss gave a huff. "Alright Boyz! we got some humies to hunt! No one hurts my little brother and gets away with it! Find them!" The Warboss shouted and was meet with a cheer from the Orcs.

During this ordeal Alm and the rest of the irregulars stayed out of sight. Alm frantically tried to think of how they could get out of this. Just when he heard the "speech" from the warboss, he knew they didn't have much time. Alm had just turned to the irregulars, about to say some sort of plan, when it happened. From the pathway opposite them a spear flew out of the darkness impaling one of the lead orcs dropping the beast to the ground. This action halted the rest of the orcs, frozen in their tracks as they were in a state of certainty where they had not expecting to be attacked. Moments later, more spears flew from the darkness followed by a wave of Snakemen who fell upon the orcs in abrupt assault. "Dese aint humies..." the warboss grumbled in surprise, "But dese gitts will be a good fight! Boys attaaack!!!" He howled with a sinister grin of bloodlust, eager for the challenge while making a gesture with his weapon, pointing at the snakemen's entrance point.

Alm sat for a moment surprised. These snakemen might just have saved their lives. Their involvement was more than enough to distract the orcs, and it gave Alm the time he needed to think. "So I have a stupid idea..." Alm started, looking back at the group. "I say we use this nice battle to our advantage. Right now the orcs are distracted, this will give us the chance we need to win this fight. If we are able to kill that Warboss, the remaining Orcs will break and retreat. That being said, we don't know how many Snakemen there are in this tomb, and if we make the orcs retreat then we will be their only targets. Again, this is a bit of a stupid plan so I'm up to a vote here and also for any other sugetions." Alm said to the irregulars. They were safe for the moment and they had the time to talk... for now.

Any thoughts of continuing to question the fellow Kaeciel had found was thoroughly disrupted by the sound of a Orcish war horn; seems the survivor of their first little spat had had friends way too near by. Scrambling into the relative safety of the shadows with the rest of the Company, Iroryn swore under her breath as a full war party came into view.

Her grip tightened on the grip of her blade, there was no-way to avoid a fight, so if she was going to go out it would be swinging. She was still psyching herself up for battle when challengers appeared behind a volley of spears. Watching the Snakemen clash with the Orcs, she sidled over to Alm as he pressed for ideas.

”Variation on your plan Boss,” She said, crouching beside him. ”We let this lot kill each other, then we think about jumping the ‘winner’ from behind. If the Orcs win there’ll be fewer of ‘em and they’ll be wounded, and if it’s the Snakes, either same thing goes, or we’ll see fresh bodies come on a back up. If that happens, we sit our asses here until they go back deeper, before legging it the fuck outta here.”

Following the lead of the group, Selovia thought that the talking survivor was a trap of some sort. She had a bad vibe on the field of traps and corpses regardless. So, it might be rude to cover her face in the eyes of the dead, as the companion warned. Had it been not he job that she was tasked to do, she’d rather leave the place sooner or later.

The dreaded sound of the Orc warhorns echoed along the tomb ruins. Have they been tailing them all this while? She wasn’t sure of the numbers, but the previous night was a skirmish as far as she knows. The traps of the tomb become the least of her concern. Following the leader of the band, Selovia watched to see the warboss showing up with his band of orcs. The depths of the tomb were eerie, especially from that smell of the rotten miasma of the tomb.

Snakemen emerged to fight off the orcs. But she doubt the snakemen would be able to take the orc warlord that easily, not especially with that size of his.

“Sounds like a decent plan, I’m going forward with this.” Selovia tapped on her powers of her soul stone, forcing the magic into a rough shape of lightning. Her magic wasn’t well-refined, and seizing magic was a better term than casting magic. Holding her cast of magic, sparks of purple and blue surrounded her spear. She was ready to send lightning at that orc army at any moment.

Relief washed over the demihuman as Iroryn made her attendance known, calling out to the two. "Y-yeh!" he agreed after a moment of inspecting his crossbow, wondering what went wrong with the device. In the process of leading Ashdane back the way he'd come before noticing something peculiar. Ariel was reaching down to relieve one of the dead of their weapon, almost causing Kaeci to come to a halt with both a confused and mortified expression. A chill ran up his spine from the perceived affront, casual theft from the deceased, causing him to fluff up. His ears perked up, frantically looking about as if expecting something to happen, and appearing cautiously disappointed when nothing did.

Perhaps...perhaps humans have a different relationship with Fish? I had known curses to be placed on those that bit hooks, as the saying goes, but was this act somehow acceptable? Maybe...maybe humans' dead were somehow...distant from Fish?
Maybe we are the ones who are distant...

Kaeci reentered the chamber, thankfully not needing to introduce the man they found as Alm took a notice to their newest member, introducing them as the rabbit continued to watch Ariel with a hint of worry in their eyes just before the blast from an orcish warhorn snapped him out of his thoughts. He hadn't needed Alm's order to quickly fall in step with the man, disappearing into the passage way with him. Kaeci continued a short ways and once again began shaking as he went about partially dismantling his crossbow as quietly as he could manage to find where the fault was.
With the box out, he held the string up as he brought the lever to a half-cycle, revealing how the fork was getting worn down again. The string must have slipped right over it, having not even reached the lock which seemed to still be in working order. Unfortunately, the fork was also responsible for triggering the drop of another bolt from the box, and the old wood, comfortable to the touch as it was, was likely not intended for as much use as he'd put it through without being replaced. He made a mental note to see if he could find a way to get a metal replacement, should they survive this mess.

Their ears drooped and hope briefly left his eyes until the sounds of the orcs engaging the other denizens of the ruins brought attention to how he may have enough time to at least attempt to jury-rig a fix. "Vould eit not be better to let zehm kill eachozher?" Kaeci softly asked, barely enough to be heard over the fighting but outwardly stressed by their harrowing situation of being now stuck in the ruins. In the meantime, he used a small knife to etch enough of a notch into the wooden fork for the string to catch. It was an optimistic fix at best, the next misfire would likely be the fork outright breaking under the stress. The device could potentially be loaded, primed and fired manually, though that would no doubt take time they would not have. To prolong the inevitable, he went about the process of practically wrestling the worn string onto the lock by hand at least for the first round which he picked out of the box, loading it and then slipping the box back into place with a soft prayer in the beastman's foreign tongue.

"Y-yes! Miss Iroryn iz makink sense. Vee found zee expedition..._{among vehr dreams sleep}...should our mission not be complete?" Kaeci chimed in to agree with the woman's suggestion that more or less ran parallel with his own. Still fluffed, he moved to properly rejoin the group as he spoke, holding his armament at the ready, though with little confidence of its reliability.

Crossbow leveled at him, followed by a snap as it failed to go off. Something must not have caught properly. Ashdane, of course, was more worried about why it didn’t work than having not been skewered at the end of a bolt. His eyes flicked to the crossbow as he curiously began to imagine how the insides worked based on its appearance. He’d had a mental list of each piece and part and how they may have worked together in his mind, but it was a theoretical figure at best. To properly know how it works, he’d have to see the inside and either confirm his theory or change it to meet reality’s version.

Ash’s attention got caught back to the world at large, where he again looked at the rabbit-person holding the tool. The boy (girl?) or man (woman?) seemed frazzled over the malfunction. Focus! The maybe-noble behind the beastman didn’t seem ready to harm Ashdane, and another person who approached, he figured a mercenary, appeared with sword-in-hand. She was tall and had an unusual elvish look to her. A beastman, a noble, and a half-elf walk into a tomb infested with corpses and horrors. Now where have I heard this one, he remarked.

"Kaeci, why don’t you take your new friend to meet Alm; maybe he can shed some light on this clusterfuck.” Must've been the company’s leader, Ash figured. Things were looking up. This group, if nothing else, seemed to want something to do with Frances’ expedition, and that would make him an asset.

What now? What now? But he knew what then. Now he had to meet with the guy and make a report. Maybe get rescued from this place finally. Frances had been taken further in a couple weeks ago, abducted by the ones living here. Surely that meant that he was dead and there’d be no reason to go further? No, no he knew better than that. They’d want proof. Something to return to whoever hired them, either of Frances’ demise, or potential survival. Cursed nobility. Wouldn’t accept being told something without a piece of Frances’ armoire or jewelry or his personal emblem to prove it.

At least, that’s the expectation Ashdane set in his mind now. He relaxed his sword stance and sheathed the blade next to its mate, following the prompts to accompany the crew members back to this “Alm”. The mercenary a moment ago nodded to him, he found the gesture reassuring. He replied with a nod of his own and faced forward, prepared to hear the bad news when they met with their leader. These tombs weren’t done with him, not after two weeks of that odor, surrounded by death and risking being found again by those scaled bastards.

They passed a young woman along the way that appeared to be picking through the corpses for useful or profitable items. He couldn’t blame her, as he himself had been doing the same for the past time here. Ash had survived on scavenged rations and canteens, kept his gear clean and oiled and maintained after his own supply had run out by robbing the deceased. Whatever she'd hoped to find, he quietly hoped he wouldn’t have needed later.

Then they'd found the man himself, Alm. He stood over a corpse Ashdane recognized as Frances' captain, reading the dead man's journal. I can only imagine what that ass had written about me before… The weight of the situation crept upon Ash's face suddenly. Emotional scabs that had coagulated to cover the fear and desperation and had allowed him to persevere through the worst days here seemed to open momentarily. He sharply inhaled and used the pressure to push those feelings back down. Now wasn’t the time.

Another time, another place. Ashdane remembered the noble's captain as a buffoon who yelled orders better than he'd worked. He'd had questions about Ashdane's craft. Not intellectual ones like, “how does this work?” or “how much force could this device exert against an object three inches left of its primary focus?”. More along the lines of, “can you blow the latrine holes up so we can’t smell them anymore?”. The idiot.

Alm clearly seemed to find the journal worth reading, at least. Ash found it comical what the dead man may have written in it about their interactions. The thought brought a smile to his lips, dry and cracked from living as he had recently. Alm's eyes darted up to look at Ashdane before verbally pegging him by name. ”The Captain here seems to have thunk you were a capable sort, although it does seem you two didn't get along too well. So can the "Insufferable Bastard" give us a clue into what was going on here?”

Ashdane never made a response, not one that sounded louder than the echoes that came at that moment. Orcs, he thought bitterly. Did this group just lead them in here?! Orcish warhorns blasted through the tomb’s walls, drawing both eye and ire of the company, and they weren’t the only ones. From deeper within came animalistic hisses and the sound of scales rubbing against stone. The snakemen were coming to answer the call.

Where once he had hoped the danger had passed, now it came again tenfold. Alm directed the group into a corridor to the side, where they began to head. Ashdane stayed back a few split seconds more, intending to bring up the rear if only to prevent getting a knife in his back. He took off after the group, eying each individual to watch their movements. The beastman from earlier seemed to be meddling with the crossbow as they ran. Ashdane looked back to the two groups of foes as they watched one another before engaging directly.

Inside the corridor, Ash pressed his back against the wall and listened as Alm threw out an idea, which was answered by the mercenary who’d reassured Ash before. Run or kill the leader and hope one group leaves? How would that let them handle the second? How would they go about dispatching a single orc in that instance, nonetheless one considered their strongest and most aggressive member in the party? What if? What if?

What if? What if? One target. Easily notable. The cogs began to turn. Snakemen who could ambush and crush a group of human expeditioners. The situation was different. The current engagement involved orcs in a head-to-head melee. Casualties on both sides would be unavoidable. Kill the leader, the orcs leave. But what if the snakemen force looked too weak at that point? You wouldn't leave a weak enemy to survive just because your on-scene commander was wounded or killed in action. It would demoralize them, but a foe on its last legs took priority.

The survivor’s pulse began to race as the idea struck home. He needed something to make it work. Needed what? His eyes darted to the crossbow in the hands of that beastman. What was their name? ”Hey, Rabbit!", he called in an excited whisper. Ashdane’s hands were groping about his tool satchel, pulling out a metal cylinder. ”You got that thing working? Throw me a few of your bolts.” He untwisted the lid from the cylinder and tried to estimate the contents within. Normally, the amount he had left would be good for another razor wire trap or a pair of small shrapnel bombs, but neither were quite what the group needed right then.

Ashdane took off his right glove and used his bare hand to pull out the remnants of the moist seed-filled resin that made up the primer from the container. The beastman had passed him the crossbow bolts he’d requested. The survivor tore off a bit of the resin and molded it over the head of the bolt firmly and slowly, leaving the sharp tip exposed. He repeated the process thrice more, leaving no resin unused and four boom-headed bolts that he held out for the beastman to take.

"Use these. Wherever they land, the primer will react. It'll explode. Get it in a vulnerable spot, that orc boss' neck, for instance." He looked to the rest of the company. There may have been better times to make a plea for them to leave instead of delving deeper, but Ashdane felt it worth trying, especially when the others seemed to already agree. "Forget the expedition, Alm. I saw Frances get dragged in deep weeks ago. The man's dead. We should focus on striking when we can do the most damage, when we can get both of them to consider retreating. We could get out of here!"