A Night Like Any Other? [Potentially M. Keisen]

[Zombie]

It seemed as though the trail had not quite grown cold yet; for the jungle did not harbor the liveliness that it should have, especially shortly after a torrential downpour. The voices of bird, beast and even insect alike had been silenced, as though they mourned for something monumental that they'd lost. Nature's spirits and the nocturnal phantoms that had surged forth from the dreamlands the night previous had returned to the otherworld. The murderous shrieking of last night's wind had become nothing more than a sigh; brittle, wistful, as though burdened by an immense sorrow; the rustling of the leaves and shaking vines seemed to be trembling not in rage, but barely-repressed fear. Even the heat and humidity seemed as a heavy, sodden blanket; listless and suffocating. The thick, squelching mud was apparently subdued, tired; while it had seemed as though all of nature had assaulted her with magnificent fury last night, this morning, it seemed to be resigned to her presence- yet rife with that peculiar, writhing, maggot-like wrongness that seethed and taunted, threatened to defile; caused the mercenary's skin to crawl with unease- a warning, perhaps, that she should not have been here, may have even been trespassing into forbidden territory, rather than simply encroaching upon an enemy's land.

Though nothing had seemed to have been amiss at first, a frustrated growl freed itself from her throat as she continued onward; for no matter how many times she tried to simply see if the trail had advanced beyond the ruin, it seemed as though she had created a rift, a time paradox: every time she took even a few steps away from the dilapidated structure, something far beyond her comprehension happened. It seemed as though the passageway beneath her feet, or perhaps reality itself, warped and roiled, forcing her return back to the structure once more- and nothing that she did could have prevented it. A soundless snarl was cast at the ruin's malicious presence, even as she found herself being tugged by forces she couldn't begin to imagine; booted feet carrying her of their own accord past the battered threshold and within the hut once more.

It was unsurprising to notice that the aged cracks remained along the walls; the filth could have been explained by being too old and deeply embedded into pourous stone to have been penetrated by the water that had battered the structure last night. The quivering shadows in the building's corners were enough cause for the hair on the back of her neck to rise uncertainly; though they did not rise to attack, there was something quite unnatural about the way they shifted amid other, more static shadows. The dirt underfoot was equally strange- to her, something seemed off about its texture, as well as its blighted hue. Kneeling, she would reach down to touch it, rub grains of that peculiar substrate between her fingers. Though she could tell there was something not quite right about it, she couldn't quite pinpoint what could have caused that vague abnormality.

However, not much time would be given to the study of the dirt; she was neither geomancer nor druid after all- when something even more aberrant drew her attention. It wasn't that solitary tile, but an ageless obelisk shaded in not dull, age-worn greys and browns, but stark, almost greasy-seeming black. As she approached it, an eyebrow arched in both curiosity and a bit of apprehension: though that uneroded, highly-polished stone seemed rather repugnant, there was something compelling about it as well; as though she needed to approach it. Sucking a breath through flaring nostrils, she slowly made her approach; a low, thoughtful noise breaking the unhallowed silence. The woman's head tilted and she took a single step back to stare at the painting that had neither faded nor peeled, but seemed to be part of the stone itself.

Who painted this? The imagery was beautiful and exceptionally detailed; all the while seeming to taunt her for being incapable of supplying the answers that it demanded; for being inadequately equipped with esoteric knowledge. There was something about the elegantly simple, yet awe-inspiring painting that made her believe that she was being judged and it had found her lacking on a celestial scale. One fist came up to slap the painting; the smack of skin against stone shattering the preternatural silence that hung like a shrowd over the hut- an ineffective attempt, a brief release of pent-up annoyance directed at nothing but herself.

The ages-old puzzle before her had to be solved; that much was abundantly clear-- but how? Reaching out to search for a hidden mechanism that may have separated the lunar crescent from the solar disc had proven to be useless- there was no hidden lever or button anywhere on the stone and the imagery had been devised in such a way that made it perfectly clear: there was no way to manipulate anything, nowhere to write out a passphrase. She'd dealt with cloak-and-dagger nonsense before, but this was something that not even the highest-ranking nobles of any country could replicate.

Cocking her head and staring at the image, eye narrowed as she pondered over its meaning, something came to her: "I know you don't give a damn about things like the passage of the stars, or the portents that can be found in them," It was the recollection of a woman's voice; feather-soft and touched by humor, lilting and venerable-- a remembered voice that she could not give a purpose, face or name to: a phantom from a lost and shrouded past, "If the moon is a goddess, then what would that make the sun?" The corner of Perendi's lips twitched into a vague hint of a smirk as that feeling of being judged began to subside; her own uncertainty being washed away and replaced by that calm assurance that she carried like a shield.

The snake's jaws parted and she couldn't have stopped herself from speaking, no matter how hard she fought to maintain restraint. "God," That single word was spoken in a raspy, heavily-graveled alto croon; a deep, commanding tone that condemned its speaker as soon as it was unleashed- the shadows swirling beneath her skin surged upward, leaving blackened imprints around her throat as though an unseen spirit were strangling her. Even as the first throat spasms and trickled blood oozing down her throat at the reminder of her curse's demand of silence; in the wake of the warning pain, she simply widened her stance and grinned, as though finally challenging fate itself.

[Keisen]

The shadows in the corner trembled still, terrified and disgusted by the exchange they witnessed. The cracks creacked and whispered madly, as if something audacious had been committed in their presence.

The sun blinked for the briefest of moments, as if acknowledging Perendi or perhaps her thoughts, it’s light spreading throughout the stone and leaving it transparent, ghostly. A set of stairs leading down, into blind darkness, was underneath it. The darkness, however, like stubborn sea denied light entry and refused to part, leaving Perendi’s perception severely limited.

It was a promise, or a challenge, or perhaps a way of mocking. There was simply no way to know, but the gust of icy wind spoke quite clearly of the impatience of the catacombs, their glee to swallow Perendi. They would not wait for much longer, and neither, it seemed, would the moon, as its glow got brighter, making the door ever so slightly less ghostly, more present. The slippery steps were daring her to walk down, enter the dead lion’s maw and see what’s inside.

The very nature aroundw her seemed to come to an uneasy halt, as if a child caught overhearing a conversation they were never supposed to know the existance of. It was now or never, whichever choice Perendi made, would be her and her alone. The entrance was found, the door opened. Whatever was inside - waiting.

[Zombie]

Lifting a hand to shove her hair out of her face, the intruder peered about briefly; as though expecting an unknown enemy to come barreling into the building unbidden, to challenge the one who dared trespass into its den. Instead, what met her eye caused it to widen in startlement; brief waves of disgust and terror washing over her- unknowingly accepting the emotions of the not-quite-living shadows, emotions that elicited an unexpected quiver to race along her spine, coupled by inexplicable anticipation.

It wasn't the same fear that she felt from the living; it was something less primal, yet more incomprehensible- the delicious sort of fear and repugnance that came in the wake of staring a truly nefarious, reprehensible adversary in the face- and living through the encounter. The whispering, ancient croaking voices of the cracks were voiced in a tongue she could never hope to understand; an unbreakable, ageless riddle that even language scholars would have difficulty comprehending.

The sun seemed to blink; or that could have simply been her mind playing tricks on her- Perendi simply shook her head as its light apparently grew immensely. The passageway revealed by the sun's brilliance momentarily appeared to be a spectral illusion, though one that solidified and caused her to snort in apprehension as it fully materialized. Turning her head to spit a mouthful of blood -perhaps an offering to nameless, obscure deities she wasn't sure whether she believed in or not- onto the blackened dirt as the gust of frigid air rose to meet her; laden with an almost contemptuous impatience and greed. 

The unknowable promise or challenge of the vast, unknowable darkness that spread from the new passageway would be met.

As her surroundings seemed to succumb to a cessation of movement, she would step forward. One hand reaching to draw the dagger from its sheath at her thigh as a precaution, she strode into the all-consuming, limitless darkness that almost seemed to rise and greet her; forsaking the safety of the world above-ground, she would begin the descent toward whatever awaited her. Eye narrowed to a defiantly-glittering slit as her perception warped and became exceptionally limited by that unnatural darkness, she would attempt to use her free hand as a guide.

While most people would have probably had difficulty seeing in that impenetrable gloom, her vision was almost nullified; in order to refrain from jumping at shadows, it was necessary to rely on her other senses to lead her to meet whatever awaited. Now was not the time to make a misstep or miscalculation, no matter how unearthly the gloom leading into the devil's house may have been. The call had been given- and she had answered.

[Keisen]

The darkness grew thinner the further down Perendi went. Engraving could be seen and more becoming more frequent and more intricate with every step she took. The black stone that made the walls and the vaulted ceiling somehow was still impeccably smooth.

The scenes appeared to be arranged in neat lines that flowed with the passage, each scene beginning where the previous ended. One fabric woven from many threads. Some had humanoid figures in them, others depicted creatures grotesque and outlandish. The threads didn’t seem intent on connecting with each other, they kept going forward, separated. Every once in a while a thread of images would end and another would begin after a small blank spot. What it meant was anyone’s guess. As the corridor grew wider, new lines of images emerged. Some depicted grand structures to challenge god’s themselves, others had only alien figures doing some menial work. The details in every scenes were incredibly rich, pronounced. It was like looking at real life stuck in stone. As all things do, the corridor came to an end, all threads reached the grand doors and stopped there.

A pair of black tall and heavy doors, as polished and gleaming as the rest of the walls stood before Perendi in a brightly illuminated hall. There was a large scene carved into them as well. A pair of griffins stood above burning water, which rose in between them and slowly but surely transformed until it was all flame that hovered above the beasts’ beaks. That fire licked the sun on the very top of the doors, which actually appeared to be the source of all light in the hall.

It was silent there, drawing a breath would be already too loud. The silent griffins looked upon the flame in what could have been reverence, had their faces not been so alien. Despite the static nature of the carvings every scene seemed to come back to life in light of their sun. It appeared that Perendi, standing on the bare gleaming floor of black stone, was the flat lifeless impression of herself rather than the figures on the walls as the high vaulted ceiling emphasized just how empty the room was without that flame, without that sun.

[Zombie]

Thankfully, there were neither grasping claws, nor gibbering nightmares hiding in wait along the darkened staircase; light manifesting to pierce the cloak of those shadows; incredibly intricate carvings becoming apparent once she was finally able to see again. Shit, this must have been for some kind of royalty, she thought idly. The woman hadn't heard anything regarding the royal families that had surely claimed the jungle as their domain in a bygone era; nor of anyone in recent times having the wealth and prestige to have such a splendorous tomb built. But then again, she was fairly certain that she didn't associate with the right social castes to hear about anything of the sort. The cleanliness of the smooth, obsidian-dark walls was a bit unusual; even that far underground, she had thought there should have been at least dust and cobwebs to be found- and the high, vaulted ceiling would have been more suited for a magnificent temple. That sense of being somewhere else than what she was accustomed to only grew more insistant the further along she proceeded.

Parezi would adore this place! If I can remember how the hell I got here, I'll have to show her! Her eyes followed the alien geometry with no small amount of appreiation for the detail and masterful craftsmanship that went into engraving those scenes; it was impossible to imagine just how long it had taken the artist or artists to prepare an endless scene of such beauty and magnitude; depicting infathomable magnificence and unimagiable horrors at the same time, disconnected and separate, yet seemingly somehow vaguely interwoven at once. It was impossible to fathom the meaning, if there was indeed one- and as the imagery shifted to incredibly bizarre grotesqueries and even stranger figures, she found herself reaching out to touch the stonework; as though trying to see if those engravings emitted the warmth of the living, or not.

The corridor had to be an outer sanctuary of some sort; or so she assumed. It did not seem right to keep her dagger drawn in a location that seemed paradoxically hallowed and unconsecrated at the same time; yet inexplicably, her fingers tightened around the hilt of that blade, as though its weight offered some small measure of reassurance. Time seemed to have lost all meaning as she meandered toward the end of that grand hall; pausing only when she reached a massive set of massive double doors that were polished to a high, burnished sheen; a low, thoughtful sound made in the back of her throat seemed blasphemously loud in a place where merely the act of breathing almost seemed to be a treasonous breach of the dreamlike silence.

The carvings that adorned those doors were simply incredible; the detail in each feather of the gryphons' wings had surely taken countless years to execute- even under the brilliant illumination, those bas reliefs seemed to hold life- had they started breathing and charged at the accursed one, she would not have been overly surprised. It was easy to envision the flames crackling and dancing; hear the illusory popping of embers and burbling of the flaming water. Above the gryphons' alien visages, far above the rest of the scene, the carved sun seemed to be the source of the illumination. Had she known much of anything about magic, she would have likely attempted to figure out just what otherworldly sorcery kept it ignited.

Such was the sumptuousness of the hall and doors that she seemed to be the falsity; paling in comparison to that which surrounded her- perhaps an unwelcome mirage of what might have been. Shaking her head and steeling her nerves, she slowed, yet did not stop, footfalls ringing out impossibly loudly as she approached the doors; reaching up sluggishly to stroke one of the gryphons' feathers as though checking that peculiar engraving for any sign of life as well. At last, she would draw a deep breath and move to shove the heavy doors open; daring to invade whatever awaited in what she assumed should have been an inner sanctum of some sort.

[Keisen]

Perendi gave a push - and there was no movement. The impeccably smooth doors just stood there, completely unaffected by Perendi's efforts, and while the sun was glaring at her inadequacy again, the griffins merely continued guarding the flame, which in turn didn't even react to her presence. It was apparent they didn't care, or perhaps their alien nature prevented them from caring.

The fest of live in all those reliefs continued, indifferent to the empty hall, to empty space that could never house them. The reliefs all went to the doors and the flame, so what was the purpose of resisting anyway?

[Zombie]

When the doors refused to budge at her shove, the sun's malicious judgement glaring down at her, her eye narrowed into a slit as she stared up at it. Fuck you, too, was the silent, sneering thought cast upward at the doors. They didn't seem to be locked; at least not by a conventional method. Had they been, there would have been resistance that would have revealed them to be barred from the other side- or at least the clattering of a device holding the entrance-way shut. With an irritated growl, she lifted both hands and shoved against the door one more time, to assure herself that she hadn't neglected to notice the resistance of the door being barred from the other side; hadn't overlooked the sound of a clattering chain, hadn't overlooked the resistance of a more conventional lock. Satisfied that she hadn't failed to notice any such thing, she stepped back and peered up at the door.

Fire can make steam and force water to boil... but this is fire on the ocean, not a pot over a fire, She pondered, glaring up at the alien-visaged gryphons that were guarding either the flames or the water beneath; gryphons were creatures of flight, Air? No... that isn't right, they aren't flying. I don't know if Earth has anything to do with it; if nothing else works, I'll come back to that idea. A low, thoughtful  sound rose from her throat, becoming a groan of vague annoyance. Perendi was horribly unschooled in the realm of the more esoteric arts; a woman of the blade, not sorcery- and the alien landscapes and figures that directed visitors down the hall to those doors didn't seem too willing to reveal their secrets.

Fire is the domain of the sun, but water is controlled by the moon. Does the sun need to go out for the moon to rise, or does the fire need to dry up the water? What about the gryphons, though- what are they guarding, the fire or water? Dammit... what if it's just another word game? Well... I've got water, which puts out fire, so I suppose I might as well try that first. If it doesn't work, there's other things to try. Pulling her water-skin from her belt with a shrug, she popped it open and approached the door again, Good thing it's just me, this is a damn stupid idea. Hoping that there wasn't just a disguised lever or button hidden among the engravings, she began splashing the flames that she could reach with the water in that skin; when the container was nearly empty, she'd toss it upward toward the image of the sun, trying to make sure that her aim was true enough to hopefully splatter it a little.

She would then backpedal a few steps once again, just in case it really was that simple- though she doubted it would have been.  It didn't matter to her how long it would take to get those doors to open; she didn't think it could have been close to even noon yet- or that time worked properly here.


Son of a whore, She thought, glaring up at the cryptic bas relief on the door. All she'd succeeded in doing by attempting to extinguish the flames had been to splash the door itself, as well as the brightly-polished floor. Roaming back through the hall revealed little to Perendi that she could understand-- the grotesqueries, coupled with the beauty of how the images had been engraved were a stark contrast; beauty and horror, simplicity and opulence. And yet, there were messages that could be seen there; if only she were capable of grasping the concepts behind what she was looking at. The same could be said about the duality of the engravings on the doors, though those were marginally easier to fathom.

However, that did not eliminate the desire to find something to simply bash the doors in with; there was no battering ram to utilize in order to assault the barriers. Frustration was causing her to pace like a caged animal- and at last, her feet carried her to the doors again before she'd realized that she'd changed the direction she'd been walking in. Time? No... I don't think that's quite right. Not size, either. Beasts and people, but they're not fighting; nothing is truly being destroyed. They're all looking at the door, heading toward it. Then, there's those gryphons, the flaming water... An irritated kick was aimed at the bottom of the doors, doing nothing but rousing a loud bang to reverberate through the hall. Wealth, prestige? That can't be it, either. Not nightmares, not dreams. "Peace, rest, guidance... pilgrimage," She didn't realize that she'd begun to voice her stream-of-consciousness thoughts aloud; "Immortality, strength, power." By the time she'd finished that verbal tirade, the mercenary was left gasping for breath and trembling, blood trickling from parted lips as she slouched against the doors, waiting for the dizziness to pass; ineffectively banging a fist against one of the doors. If that's not it... Something told her that she was probably grasping at shadows, though she couldn't be certain one way or another.

...Until nothing at all happened, once again. Once the dizziness finally subsided, she unhooked her liquor flask from her belt, unscrewed it and gulped several mouthfuls of the cheap rum; throat spasming in protest even as the blood was washed away; her breathing finally becoming even again as the bright, wavering swirls of light that had threatened and taunted to knock her on her ass subsided. Refastening the flask to her belt, a soundless laugh was pantomimed at her predicament- and yet, it was nothing more than a puzzle. She'd successfully survived nightmarish experiences before, had completed a few truly harrowing retrieval missions, slain truly deadly adversaries, there was no way that a riddle was going to lead to a defeat- no matter how long it took to solve.

While she continued to try and unravel the mocking imagery that stretched out before her and to either side, her mind drifted back to a conversation that she'd had last night. A derisive snort was given as she stopped assaulting the door. Beasts -even noble ones such as gryphons- people and nightmares, deities and demons, even elements in opposition have something in common. Some people think the moon goddess is a creator, a mother.

"Destruction," That single word was more of a thick, pained, hoarse rasp of a groan; swaying on her feet for several long moments as her vision swam yet again; the fluid shadows beneath her skin swarming upward to grasp at her throat and higher- this time, rising to envelope her chin and lower jaw as well, before separating into long, thin, searching, intangible tendrils that grasped at her cheekbones- she was pushing herself toward her limitations for speech; that pressure increasing substantially, throat and vocal cords shredding themselves as she slouched heavily against the wall nearest the door, forced to breathe shallowly through clenched teeth, one arm rising to mop sweat off her forehead. All she could do once again was try and wait for the warning assault to pass; wait to see if she'd progressed at all.

When nothing happened again, she had to admit that there was something vaguely amusing about the whole situation. Apparently, this nameless deity wasn't quite nefarious enough to be known as a force of destruction; so that likely eliminated the thought of death as well- which, by proxy, made her believe it wasn't even a god of her own element, which was war. Alright... I know it's also not going to be anything such as farming, hearths, fortune, trickery. Perhaps I'm not even supposed to figure out what kind of god it is? I do know what they say gods are known for. "Wisdom," Was the single word that she rasped; grinning in defiance against her own curse, cheekily at the challenge of opening the door, even as another spasm seized her throat. If that's not it, I'm burning this place.

[Keisen]

The sun appeared to be amused by Perendi’s efforts as its glow died down and the doors parted. The brief darkness was swiftly shoved aside by the pale light coming from what appeared to be the grand hall.

It was large and spacious. The walls rose up to ten times Perendi’s height and the vaulted ceiling was lost in the darkness. It was all smooth gleaming black stone once again, but this time even more reliefs could be seen literally everywhere, illuminated by some unknown source of light. There were grand scenes depicting battles and bizarre structures, which looked like castles, cathedrals and cities. There were once again humans and human-like creatures, but surrounding them were unknown grotesque creatures. Smaller scenes surrounded the bigger ones, depicting some inconsequential but meticulously carved motives.

Another difference was the floor. It was of course made of the same material that everything else, but when one looked at it, they could see the map of Le’raana, complete with every minor detail one could expect on a map. There were even tiny people that despite being literally carved out in the stone appeared to be moving. All the names, however, were written in a flowing language that Perendi couldn’t identify.

Each wall of the great hall had a passageway leading into the darkness. They were entirely identical, gaping jaws of blackness and shadows, tempting and taunting. Perendi literally stood at a crossroads.

[Zombie]

At last, it seemed as though her efforts had paid off; for she could sense the preternatural amusement eminating from the sun- enough so to cause her to hold back a bark of laughter; cage it within her own throat. Silently, those doors finally parted and revealed a luxurious room that was no temple sanctum, but appeared to have been the grand hall of some forgotten lord's keep. Whoever had dwelt here in the distant past had certainly been far more wealthy than anyone she'd ever heard of; the splendor of the glistening black walls, the way that the ceiling vanished from sight, spoke of a prestige she couldn't hope to aspire to in this lifetime. That strange, hidden light source -perhaps remnants of some ageless sorcery?- cast everything in that same soft radience she was becoming accustomed to.

Here, the imagery along the walls seemed to be even more elaborately carved than even in the corridor she'd passed through; she seemed inconsequential and tiny when compared to the size of the grand hall, the magnificent detail that went into those reliefs. The scenes of battle were of immense fascination; as were the bizarre, unfathomable creatures that seemed to have surrounded the humanoid figures- while she could not identify the structures as being of Le'raana origin; at least they did not resemble anything she'd seen during her travels. There were clearly innumerable stories to have been found among those engravings- tales that she would have tried to decipher, or at least ascribe her own meanings to, had she the time to examine them more closely.

Not even the floor underfoot was bereft of stunning detail. It seemed as though she strode across a meticulously-crafted map that described all of Le'raana in exquisite detail, including the Niahi Woods, La'marri- and to the north, the mountains and even the Fell itself. Forests, rivers and lakes, even the foothills and the tiniest details -as she knelt momentarily to truly look at the map, she swore she could see the entrances to mine shafts and even the mouths of caves- laid beneath her. More impressive though, was the incredible detail that went into the stonework of the miniscule people; though they were not living, they seemed to be moving with a life of their own. The labeling, unfortunately, was in a flowing, spidery language that she'd never seen before, would proabably never be able to identify or understand.

That map, Perendi could have remained to watch for hours; just to see what the stone figures were doing, where they went. But that was a luxury she couldn't afford herself, she had not come here for simple pleasure. Finally standing again, she noticed that here were numerous passages that led from the hall; abysses of darkness that seemed to tease and invite exploration, taunt and mock. If I had my dice with me, I'd toss 'em to figure out where to go, She thought idly, rising once more and stretching before setting off into the left-most passageway, tightening her grip on her dagger as she plunged headlong once again into the expanses of the unknown.

[Keisen]

Perendi walked through a straight wide corridor with reliefs following her like flowing lines someone wrote long ago. Each had a different motive, a different style and a different plot. Some depicted hunting, others showed prayers - all of them twisted warningly, so much unlike what she had seen in the entryway. The silence remained however, ever-present and ever-apparent. In fact, Perendi's steps were like rhythmic bangs of some ancient clock. The ethereal glow still cast light on the polished jet-black slabs of stone, making them gleam almost gleefully, as if reminding by its sheer presence about the darkness that had suddenly vanished when Perendi stepped inside.

When the corridor finally came to an end, Perendi saw a fairly large, though not to the extent of the great hall, room with no cravings this time and no pictures. Instead the walls were alsmot completely obscured by paper, sticked to them by some unknown force. They showed diagrams, pillars of flowing text and multitude of obscure symbols of unknown origin.

At the first look it wasn't obvious, but the room used to be a chapel. There was even a niche of the altar. It appeared that now in its place was some unknown diagram, a combination of circles, triangles and gods knew what else. By each side stood a number of desks, filled with books, scrolls and various unknown items, no doubt used in whatever the owner of the place was doing here.

A certain poster called for attention. It had a human body displayed in its center, surrounded by lines of unknown writing and symbols. It appeared to be some sort of documentation of a sick experiment that involved living flesh.

The almost deadly silence was interrupted by a creak of a door opening. It appeared that there was indeed a door near where the altar used to be. Now it was open. Two glowing green eyes were staring at Perendi from the gaping darkness.

"Master has returned so fast?" a voice rasped.

[Zombie]

As she walked along the passage, an eyebrow arched at the change in the flowing artwork that seemed to chase her like the thoughts that warned one of a mistake about to be made. Unlike the cohesion that had been seen elsewhere, there were numerous different styles to be seen this time; as though more than one individual's hands and tools had graced those walls- though the message seemed fairly clear. Even those figures frozen in their hunts or supplication seemed to be trying to turn back, to warn of an inevitable disaster that might have been awaiting. Unlike the peaceful silence of the grand hall, there was a timeless, yet almost oppressive quality to the one that fell now; her footfalls somehow mimicking the rhythm of a venerable time-piece; even the soft sound of her breathing seemed impossibly loud and convoluted- as though waves were crashing against a distant shore; or perhaps a blacksmith was working their bellows.

What greeted Perendi when she finally came to the end of that passage, she paused and blinked owlishly at the peculiar room; where carvings, engravings and detailed embossing had been expected, there were none. A study? Was the unspoken question as she began looking around; peering curiously at the diagrams, text and inscriptions that adorned those pages along the walls- though she could not make sense of them, she assumed them to be some manner of alchemic formulations. The worn remnants of the altar was not expected, nor the untranslatable diagram; she'd not anticipated a chapel to be converted into a study. The mercenary, not being one who looked down on theft -especially when something useful to her mage might have been found- would move toward one of those desks and retrieve an old, beaten manuscript; carefully sliding it into one of her numerous pouches. If nothing else, she could possibly sell it to one of the professors of the Wyrmwood Academy- certainly one of the Arcanists there would be interested in it.

However, it was the larger diagram that demanded her attention; depicting a human form and unknowable, obscure symbols. Doesn't look like it would just be for organ selling, she thought, moving closer to examine the symbols and writing- again to find the text incomprehensible. It seemed to outline some sort of experiment that, while the imagery made it abundantly clear that the experimentation was gruesome and stomach-roiling in nature, did little to reveal exactly what the results might have been. If anyone's still here, I'll bring them back- if I can find them a healer, I might even be lucky enough to have a few new recruits. Though she didn't think there would be any chance of locating the survivors of any such experimentation -if there were indeed any victims at all- it was something the solider of misfortune would keep her eye out for.

When that near-fatal silence was assaulted by the door's creaking, she instinctively flinched away and twisted her wrist so she could land a pre-emptive strike against whatever intruder might have found her in that study. I need to see what's beyond, though the glowing, jade-hued eyes startled her, she couldn't discern what manner of creature they might have been attached to- if any. When it spoke, she didn't think she had the time to mull over the consequences of either option she could have been offered; Don't think- just act. "I have," the snake's gravely voice rang out; another interruption of that unnatural quietness. Had that split-second decision been the wrong choice, she would have to deal with the consequences when they came.

[Keisen]

The scroll turned out to be a little heavier than Perendi expected, but otherwise nothing was out of the norm. The eyes looking around the room from darkness didn’t appear to either notice or care about the action. Their motives were, after all, at best unclear.

When the glowing eyes turned to Perendi and seemed to focus on her. The creature appeared to be examining her. It stepped out of the shadows into the light of the room. “You are not master,” it rasped.

In pale light of the room, the creature looked like a human, remarkably so. It had the appropriate body structure, five fingers on all her limbs, hair, eyes, face, though impossibly white skin. There was, however, something alien in the way it walked, as if not by its own will. The creature appeared to be genderless, at least one couldn’t determine whether they were male or female just by looking at them. The body was dressed in a loose black robe of some rough material.

“Cannot be here,” it rasped with black dry lips, “cannot leave...” it limped closer and closer. “Master will reward.”

[Zombie]

She found it a bit odd that the scroll was weightier than any others she'd picked up in the past; yet was clearly relieved to note that nothing untoward happened: nothing lunged out of another unseen door to attack, no spell triggered a trap or sounded an alarm. Later, she'd try to figure out just what her newest acquisition contained before figuring out if it would be worth selling- or even handing over to her own mage. For now though, her attention was focused on the eyes that peered about the room; it was impossible to determine what they needed, or if they may have simply been the eyes of a watchful animal; perhaps feline in origin.

As those strangely brilliant eyes turned to focus on her and the being came into view, her grip on her dagger shifted slightly; a faint movement that brought the blade back to its original defensive position, knees bending as she widened and lowered her posture somewhat, just to prepare to counter in case it chose to launch an attack. "If not me, then who is your master?" She queried, voice a pained, serpent-like hiss; Perendi swaying slightly on her feet, head involuntarily tilting backward for the span of several breaths- she would have kept her mouth shut, returned to silence once more, had she thought the individual before her might have been capable of understanding the language of sign and gesticulation.

As it was, she could not tell. Once it strode forward from the awaiting darkness, she couldn't determine the newcomer's age, or even their heritage: even though they were at least of some manner of humanoid descent, the stark ivory hue of their skin, the burning green of their eyes and how they moved like a marionette on invisible strings spoke of an aberration. Though whether they were a creature of magical creation, an ancient and infathomable species, or something entirely different was indiscernable. If she didn't know better, based on that robed being's coloration and the way they moved, she would have thought it was a reanimated corpse that stood before her. That was a thought that sent an icy chill racing down her spine, even as she lifted her free hand to sign: "Do you understand? Do you need help?" Though it was impossible to determine whether they'd assume she was attempting to cast some sort of spell or not.

Slowly side-stepping as she watched the being, trying to stealthily sidle toward one of the exits while peering about for any other possible escape route, she shook her head at their next words. She couldn't be in the study, yet would not be permitted to leave-- that only left three possible options: trying to escape back the way she had come, which would have left her back and flanks unguarded and open for attack, an attempt at rushing forward to tackle the creature and plunge through that open door, or what she thought the most straight-forward plan of action would have been. "I'm going to leave," was growled; those defiant words somewhat choked, her free hand straying to grasp her baselard and pull it from its sheath as she continued to side-step, both blades catching and refracting the light as they were flicked forward in challenge. I don't care what rewards your master promised you, the set of her jaw, the brief upward thrust of her chin, even the peculiar little smile that curved her charcoal-grey lips conveyed rather clearly as the foreign being began limping toward her.

Her eye would remain fixed on her would-be possible adversary as she began to move again; the distance between herself and the passage she'd ventured through was still too great-- though just possibly, she may have been able to continue luring it away from the door it had come through. Even if the robes it wore were due to it using magic instead of being for the sake of comfort, she wasn't going to just give in and submit to its desires; it would take far more than just an emergence and vaguely cryptic warning for anything of that nature to happen.

[Keisen]

The humanoid just blinked at the offer of help, staring with blank glowing eyes at the gesture Perendi was making. It twisted its neck with an audiable snap to look at her again and seemingly decided to dismiss her signals in favor of replying to her previous question:

“Master is master,” it rasped. “You cannot leave,” it repeated when Perendi disagreed.

The hem of its robes brushed loudly against the stone of the floor, a dreary sound in the utter silence of the lab. The shadows on the fabric of the black cloth moved and circled and spiraled toward the creature’s hands. Sharp black claws grew from the tips of the humanoid’s fingers.

“You are fleshing,” it pointed one of the clawed fingers at Perendi, its voice echoing like a broken cello against the high vaulted ceiling of the chapel “we serve master”. There was a certain sense of finality in the way it spoke.

“Master will be God, master will reward,” the creature repeated as it advanced toward Perendi slowly but steadily, its movements devoid of any sort of grace now, like a piece of meat on strings. It took a swipe at Perendi, aiming to cut off one of her hands.

The reliefs of the corridor were silent spectators of the starting fight, perhaps now they were jealous of those hidden behind layers of paper, notes and furniture. Even the pale light itself seemed repulsed by having to fall on the abomination walking those smooth polished stones. His robe itself seemed to be the embodiment of despair as it bent and shifted light, making it the color of spoilt milk.

[Zombie]

She stared at the peculiar creature without judgement; though with a touch of concern- if it truly was a being forced to bow its head to a force it truly didn't want to be controlled by- or if it was trapped between the world of the living and the realm of the dead, she would attempt to either recruit it to join her in the pursuit of her dream- or to relieve it of its unnatural life; whichever would suit both of their purposes first. The sound of its neck snapping as it turned its head to look at her made her wonder if it might have even been a magical construct of some manner. She sighed when it ignored her signed question, though nodded in vague acceptance when it refused to reveal its master's name. "Like hell... you can't keep me here," She growled in defiance.

That circling continued as its robes echoed across the stone floor; her eye widening as she watched the transformation of the shadows that wafted around the hem of its black robe; feigning a fencer's forward lunge-and-stab technique as though to test the peculiar creature, "I serve only myself," A mocking laugh punctuated those words even as blackened-crimson blood dripped from her lips, splattering against the stone floor; an all-too-loud, ominous splattering sound in the otherwise crypt-like silence of the laboratory. Though the atonal, grating, broken quality of the creature's voice grated on her nerves, she wouldn't make it silence itself again- it had the right to speak, even if everything she said, the ideals that were deeply ingrained into the fabric of her being, were in direct defiance of what it stood for.

"No... I'll ram my hammer up your master's ass, turn him to worm food!" She snarled, gravely voice dropping to a primal, near-bestial growl; her internal shadows swirling ever-upwards, the visible darkness beneath her ash-grey skin swirling upward, their intangible touch grasping at her temples- beneath her studded leather armor, invisible to her eyes and that of the creature, those shadows extended past her collarbone, reached downward from her throat and further still; settling across her chest as she swayed viper-like and almost drunkenly on her feet, nostrils flaring as she inhaled shallowly, swiftly; knees threatening to collapse as bright pinpoints of swirling, writhing, blindingly white light threatened to strip away her consciousness. NO! Not now!

As the agony of her quickly-eroding vocal cords became an afterthought, her vision unclouding, she lurched backward; though not quickly enough to put distance between herself and the strange, robed creature that lumbered forward like a puppet in her direction. Had she managed to catch her breath in such a short time-span, she would have been able to correct her movements. Though she did pivot on her heels, it just wasn't quite swift enough. As she turned, her adversary's wickedly-sharp claws managed to hook her right hand, just  above the wrist. Shredding through studded leather armor and the cloth beneath, ripping through ash-grey flesh that was all too willing to part- and deeper still, slicing through nerve, muscle and tendon; cleaving through bone and finally removing that offending limb.

Blackened-crimson blood spraying vibrantly from the ragged remains, painting  the lackluster hues of the laboratory in that too-dark hue, her adversary would probably have been able to detect the wrongness of the scent that filled the air: the aroma of utter filth, of age-old rot and corruption; the stench of complete ruination- the putrid stink of her curse. The severed hand clattered to the floor; the too-loud sound of damnation yet to come. If her adversary bothered to look at the severed hand on the floor, or even Perendi's own ragged stump, it would probably have seen that the splintered bone itself was ink-black; the tattered muscles, tendons and ligaments as grey as granite.

Perendi herself shrieked: a truly animalistic sound that rose and seemed to swell, utterly annihilating the laboratory's near-silence; a sound that carried with it the mingled essences of rage and agony. As long as the opportunity to try and staunch the bleeding arose sometime soon, the would would throb and pulsate with almost mind-numbing agony that wouldn't end until the destroyed nerves died, but would not prove to be fatal.  She was already a demon; an iron will, coupled with wave after wave of adrenaline and fury that crashed through the fabric of her being like endless jolts of thrilling electricity forced her to move forward, even as she flashed her would-be executioner a killer "come hither" look; fighting to hold back waves of agony-and-adrenaline-induced nausea, she seemed to spring to life.

Her left hand lifted, ramming the hilt of her short-sword against the onyx of her cloak's clasp with a loud clatter; what shadows remained in the laboratory would seem to surge from their hiding-places; rousing to skitter, spider-like down from the recesses of the vaulted ceiling, jerking the soldier of misfortune into their cruel embrace as she would seem to vanish.

Breath coming in irregular pants, heart hammering against the cage of her ribs like a bird determined it escape from its captivity, nerves ignited by ceaseless electrical currents that caused her to want more,; to force her adversary to taste how delicious agony could truly be when one's flesh and bones were shredded and torn apart  by the exquisite torment  born from the intimacy of the dance of blades. Handless arm quivering and  curled protectively against her chest, all rational tactical knowledge vanishing from her mind in a dazed fog, she was but a beast: coming to stop mere steps behind the dark, unliving manifestation of despair, that bereft limb would shoot out in an attempt to catch the creature's neck in the crook of her right elbow; simultaneously, her baselard would be thrust forward savagely, seeking to eviscerate that peculiar enemy from behind; trying to thrust the blade of that short-sword between two of its vertebrae- intending to skewer it as though it were nothing more than a suckling pig to be roasted on a spit.

[Keisen]

When the piece of flesh fell on the floor, the humanoid just stared at it for some time before limping forward toward Perendi, its feet clanking against the stone at every step. Perendi's blood mixed nicely with the black tiles under its robe.

The creature didn't appear to pay any attention to Perendi's statements. It appeared as though it didn't even comprehend the words, it's dull green eyes staring at her with all their emptiness leaking out almost to the point of filling the room. It paid no mind to the shrieks and growls of its enemy as its limbs stalked forward and its mind collapsed into a tip of a needle, incapable of comprehending anything aside from the immediate thirst for blood.

As the shadows short forward, so did the humanoid. It lunged at where Perendi was standing and thrust its clawed hand at where her left hand was supposed to be - only to be startled into a statue-like state when the claws met nothing but thin air. It looked around, its movements slow and uncertain at first but more frantic every second. The creature looked remarkably similar to a bipedal dog that lost its nose and its sight. Low growls emanated from the back of its ragged throat, hoarse low sounds of a primal beast. It was as if a dragon of ancient times, once mighty and noble, was put in shackles and mutilated until there was nothing left but a docile husk with little left from its former self, which could only come out as rabid unconscious sounds and gestures.

"Master," it rasped, as the lost green glow was frantically searching for Perendi.

As it felt a hand locking around its neck, the creature went stiff and shouted in pure agony when the dagger sliced through its flesh came between its vertebrae. Its legs gave out and its hands slumped, unmoving slices of flesh hanging uselessly at its sides, and the whole mass of its body collapsed on Perendi.

"Mas-ter," it rasped, its voice dull.

The body ceased moving when the black sticky oily liquid started pouring from its mouth and oozing from the wound on its back, coating Perendi's hands. The reliefs continued to look on. Silence reigned once again.

[Zombie]

The simple fact that the peculiar creature had frozen in place when the mercenary had activated her cloak's enchantment was the circumstance that had probably ended up saving her. In the back of her mind, it had struck her at how the formerly seemingly-intelligent being had been reduced to almost canine behavior; a hound that had lost the trail it had been following. There had been something pitiful about that poor sod, even as she had managed to capture its neck in the crook of her elbow; in its cries as she eviscerated the unusual being. There had been no true hatred in her attack; just primal fury and the desire to survive that fateful encounter. She staggered backward under its weight as it slumped against her, supporting it with the arm around its neck and her blade, until it ceased moving and became nothing more than a lifeless shell; a peculiar, oily substance coating her baselard's blade, hand and stump. At last, she would unhook her arm from its neck, tilt her short-sword downward and shove the limp corpse to free her weapon once again; the blade of that weapon would be dragged along her armor's sleeve in an attempt to remove as much of he oddly sticky fluid as possible before it was sheathed again-- she had no idea if the liquid that served as that being's blood had any peculiar properties and didn't exacly want to take the chance of it potentially eroding or rusting that blade-- save for her meat skewer, it was the only lengthy weapon she was able to use any longer.

Breathing heavily, cold sweat dripping down her face and neck, she made her way to sit near one of the closest walls; fumbling several times before she was able to remove her liquor flask from her belt and uncork it, taking a long swallow of her rum before beginning to unfasten the upper half of her armor. Though she did not want to be without that added protection, it was the only real way she could get to her stump; growling in irritation as, more than once, she had lifted her right arm and had tried to use the phantom fingers of a hand that no longer existed to assist with undoing the buckles and clasps that held that armor in place. Trembling from annoyance, adrenaline beginning to wear off and sheer frustration, it was painfully slow-going, shrugging out of her now-useless hammer's harness, removing the upper half of that armor and shoving the remnants of that rust-colored sleeve back, so she could see the extent of the damage. Oh, fuck me. She thought with a groan; from what she could see beneath her own blood and that of the slain creature was nothing more than a gruesome, tattered mess: shredded flesh and unevenly-broken bone, not unlike what remained after snapping a joint of meat. Hefting her liquor flask once more, she would draw a deep, steadying breath as she shifted positions, hissing and groaning, drumming her heels against the stone floor as she poured the remains of her rum over that wound; an attempt to potentially halt the spread of possible infection, at least for now.

Her left hand would pull a long, thin leather strap and a roll of bandages from the pouch at her hip; twisting and contorting uncomfortably, she used her left hand and teeth to wrap the leather strap above her right elbow; not tightly enough to completely stop the bloodflow, but to slow it considerably; while cauterization would have been preferential, she was not prepared to try and strike her flint-and-tinder with one hand, or to waste the time removing those notes and diagrams from the walls in order to ignite a fire. Finally, she would yank her rust-colored sleeve back down, pulling it around the stump as much as she could, holding the tattered edges of the fabric in place with her teeth while slowly wrapping the bandages around and over that coarse material, then the ragged edges of the stump. It wasn't masterful work; in fact, it was sloppy in several places, but it would hopefully get the job done until she had the time to locate someone able to do a better patch-job than she had- and possibly replace that missing appendage, either through metalwork or magic. Closing her eye, her head lolled back and rested against the wall behind her for several painfully long moments- until the newest waves of nausea, agony and dizziness subsided.

Perendi had no way of knowing exactly how long she'd ended up resting like that; the silence surrounding her being of absolutely no assistance, nor the shadows and reliefs that seemed to be nearly alive. After what seemed like hours, days; possibly a lifetime of just resting, she finally managed to get back to her feet again. Curving her stump against her chest protectively and to hopefully further slow the blood-loss, it was time to continue. "Master, you're back?" The dead creature had inquired when she'd entered the laboratory; to her, that was an indication that he would not be found through the door the humanoid had emerged from. Instead of proceeding forward, she chose to back-track, through the long, meandering hall once again; this time though, she would turn to move down the right passageway; that would probably only leave the one heading forward and the one backtracking to the grand hall once more, if her choice ended up being incorrect again.

[Keisen]

The great hall hasn’t changed, it seemed that Perendi was completely irrelevant to the reliefs on the walls as they observed her like a piece of flesh, insignificant on the grand scheme of things. As she passed the map, the small carved people were still going about their business, not even noticing the giant among them and the static wind was still rushing the unmoving waves to meet the illusory coast of the carved Le’raana.

The corridor to the right was in the first glance identical to the one she left behind, but there were stark differences. Where the previous one was chaotic, this one was orderly, as reliefs once again flowed in neat organized lines toward the other end, the scenes had a lot of battles in them, depicting mounted knights leading others to battle, or throne rooms, filled with nobles, all looking at their kings in deference. Dragons towered over the kneeling beasts, griffins held the sun over the castles at their mercy. It went on and on, battles of strength and wit raging in the pale light.

Eventually Perendi reached the end and entered a sort of antechamber, a relatively small circular room, lit by the same pale light. Two dragons, numerous constellations behind them, were carved on either side of her, they seemed to be fighting. Their flame collided right in front of her, where one would expect a door to be. That flame twisted and spiraled until it formed the sun’s crown, a symbol that looked like a sand clock inside it. A big naked eye towered above the scene, shining light on it. The craftsmanship was just as elegant as one would come to expect from this place. The light flickered from time to time, and made it look like the flame, the dragons,, the stars, the eye were all moving - except the symbol in the center. It stood unmovable, the only absolute among those that were relative.

Perhaps, though, the reliefs weren’t Perendi’s main concern. In front of her stood a tall woman, dressed in a set of robes that looked rather smart on her, emphasizing her tall and slim build. Her auburn hair cascaded from her shoulders to her shoulderblades, her green eyes fixed on Perendi.

“So you’re the intruder,” she said, her voice soft, like silk. Her eyes flickered to the missing limb. “And you went to the homonculi labs. I didn’t think First was capable of anything beyond drooling, I see I underestimated him. So,” she raised an eyebrow, “why are you here?”

[Zombie]

It came as a relief that nothing in the great hall had changed; that the mercenary seemed to be as inconsequential to the reliefs as she had been during her first trek through. The map underfoot seemed to have continued moving in her absence; the miniscule carved people drifting from location to location- all was as it should have been, nothing seemed to indicate cause for alarm. The shifting in the embosings along the new corridor's walls, unfortunately, did not serve as an indicator as to whether or not she was drawing any nearer to her intended target.

Anywhere else, the orderly rows of flowing reliefs might have proven that she'd chosen correctly this time; though the imagery shifted from strange scenes of peace to even more peculiar depictions of war. While her eye roved appreciately over the mounted knights and dragons, gryphons and the figures that kowtowed to their lieges, her gaze was only apprecitive of the imagery and the deadly beauty contained there. It would have served her well to have been a scholar of history; perhaps then, she would have been able to unravel the mystery of the wars being waged, the rampaging dragons and commanding nobility. The sand-clock and massive celestial eye were certainly noteworthy and doubtlessly represented something, the same as the passage of time. A deity, watching for eternity as their creations are destroyed by time? She pondered idly, though it seemed like such things were not meant to be considered for very long.

For more noteworthy than trying to discern the stories strewn across the walls were the indiviudal that stood, as though anticipating her arrival. A statuesque woman clad in elegant robes; Perendi's eye slowly roving over her figure appraisingly What a shame. She was truly an appealing lady; even noble-looking- and as far as the fighter could tell, she didn't appear to be carrying any weapons, nor did she look like she indulged in skirmishes- though appearances could be and oftentimes were deceiving. However, it was her eyes that caused the mercenary to be watchful, wary: they were green, like the creature that she'd slain had been. Are you a slave, servant, or are you here because you want to be? Maybe someone's mistress?

The stately lady's voice was incredibly soft and smooth; though the revelation that she'd known where the warrior had gone revealed that she definitely had some hand in what was occuring here. Unfortunately, relying on non-verbal communication was out of the question; she would not be able to convey complex thoughts to the other woman at that time- she had inadvertantly been forced into speaking. "Homonculi?" Perendi queried, her rough voice a sharp contrast to the dulcet tones of the robed lady. "Hmm... is that so; must be a relief. Who are you?" She swallowed blood after voicing that demand; cocking her head and making a thoughtful sound in the back of her throat at the green-eyed woman's question, "I'm here to see your master; I have important matters to discuss with him-- and got lost."

The first and final points were honest enough; I'm just an artifact hunter; I got turned around in the hall and attacked because I went into the wrong room, was the thought she was trying to convince herself of, a spur-of-the-moment idea that she'd formulated upon seeing that she wasn't alone. Leaning against one of the walls and attempting to look like she belonged there, that she had all the time in the world and was comfortable.

[Keisen]

The woman just looked at Perendi with amusement. A short dry chuckle escaped her. "Really," she inquired, looking at Perendi as if she were a child, "and what would my arrogant self-absorbed divinity-obsessed bastard of a master want with a simple woman who can't even handle a failed experiment?"

Her green eyes shone in the pale light of the room as they looked Perendi over once again. The woman shook her head gently, causing her hair to scatter and flow in the air before gracefully falling on her shoulders once again. Her posture was relaxed and non-chalant, as if she was making social small talk with a random noble, not standing in front of a warrior in a hall surrounded by carved ancient battle of dragons.

"No, I really don't think so," she concluded. "My arrogant master would never let a mortal anywhere near his lair, much less inside. No, he is far too haughty to speak to mere mortals if he doesn't intend to kill them. Though I do remember him speaking of some 'upstart woman', who managed to actually injure him," her eyes locked on Perendi, "just out of curiosity: was that you?"