Quest [Fall Quest] Descension

[Jenni Twilight]

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Jenni listened to the ghost's introduction, surprised. She'd thought the specter was some kind of age-old one... not a student of the Dawn Tower... that was the last thing she'd think. The Twilight frowned at... Zael, his name was, confused by his statements. Harm? What did he mean by that? What did he do? Other than try to make a name for himself, and die in the process.

When the light went out, the morpher scowled, but glanced at the Shinya in worry. However, Shara seemed to be dealing with that problem, so there was no need to do anything. Again, she considered morphing so she could see, but immediately dismissed the idea. No light meant everyone was blind... but it was a little disconcerting. Even opening her eyes as wide as possible, she couldn't make out a single thing.

Zael continued speaking, mentioning that the place was alive, and he had to fight... something. Right. Well... they would probably have to kill the same thing, unless the ghost did the job for them... but it seemed unlikely. The concept of a living cavern was stranger, however. What kind of magic did that?

Soon enough, the light came back on, Opheria looking strained and worried. Jenni mostly ignored this, wanting more and more information from the ghost. She needed to know, to understand... since right now, very little was making sense. It seemed the cave didn't like you going deeper... and... people were dead? What was the specter talking about? The only recent deaths were... the earthquake.

It dawned on the morpher just as the boy explained, telling them that all the horrors above, the earthquakes, the riots... had been his fault. Hearing the words aloud, she stared, eyes bulging slightly, not quite sure what to say. "Oh Gods..." she muttered, more to herself than anything. This was a lot to take in. Though she kept her demeanor, her knees wobbled a little, awed by what they'd just discovered. By going deeper into the cavern... this boy had caused hundreds of deaths.

She thought about their own journey, and realized the consequences of heading deeper might be just as severe. "If this... caused so much damage..." she muttered, thinking aloud but spoke so everyone could hear. "If this caused so much damage, should we even go deeper? I mean... the knowledge... but is it worth it? The consequences..." she shuddered at the thought, thinking of another event like the one before. The city would fall into anarchy... it probably would never recover. It was a scary thought... and the decision. Should they put knowledge above other people's lives? Should they take this chance, or leave the cave a mystery. Then she remembered their way back was blocked. "Well... I don't think we have a choice, do we... there's no way back. Unless we all kill ourselves, of course." The last was said with a bitter bluntness, the realization that they weren't going to be able to abandon this journey... and though there was another option - there always was - it wasn't exactly a good one. But was continuing a good idea either?

Common - Nari/Crook - NPC - Writing - Reading

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[Alses]

“Would you like to leave this thing here? This maddened, insane ruin that was once some grand edifice when Suva still ruled this half of the world and the Valterrian was an unknown?” Alses asked, voice quiet but firm. She’d spoken quickly, words filling the yawning silence. Anything was better than that.

“I daresay the reimancers of the Dawn Tower could pour lava in and seal up the entrance we know about,” she mused. “That option and their skill I’ll not deny, but who knows how many other entrances there are, scattered through the Misty Peaks and the Unforgiving – especially given our geology. All it would need is for some unfortunate traveller or particularly resourceful monster to wander inside to set off the quakes again; our city would forever be courting catastrophe, never knowing when next our homes might be shattered.” She shook her head – that was something that no-one wanted, surely.

Jenni’s pronouncement about death caused Alses to frown blackly; such thoughts weren’t welcome, when aired. Everyone was doubtless thinking about it, and mentioning the fact only brought the horrible prospect to the forefront, a punishing dip in collective morale. “We have a reimancer with us,” she pointed out mildly. “And even if our best bet at finding a way out of this place without using Opheria’s reimancy to blast through who knows how many thousands of tons of rock and earth wasn’t by going forward, we’d still want to push on.” A faint smile touched her lips.

“Caution will have to be our watchword, though, especially if – as Zael, was it? says, the sentience driving this place gets more paranoid and extreme as we go down. I can find its presence in the chambers and rooms ahead of us, now I know what to look for, and we can prepare, but progress might be a little limited,” she warned. “Whilst we want to be out of this sunless hellhole more than all of you-” literally true, as far as Alses was concerned, but the fact that she’d voiced it at all was a subtle sign of the tension inside her, the wanting ache for the sun that would surely only grow stronger and stronger as time went by “-I also want to come out sane and alive.”

Turning to the Konti healer, Alses felt strong enough to answer her, at least, with a negative shake of her head, still not quite able to look the corpse-pale thing in the face. “We read his aura, the secrets and emotions every soul throws off. Not the visions a Konti experiences; you’ll have to elaborate on what you saw. But for now…be calm, healer,” she murmured. “He’s paid the ultimate price for that action. I’d hazard a guess his guilt - justified, perhaps - is what’s anchoring him here, as a ghost, rather than letting him move on to the grand cycle.”

Alses turned, unerringly guided by her magic, towards Zael, trembling and half-transparent and yet defiant. “A way to set things right would be most welcome, we’d guess? Or at least some means of ensuring that further quakes don’t tear Lhavit’s crystal crown from her granite foundations. Perhaps you’d care to tell us what awaits down the staircase? Eight might have better luck than one, but since you’ve already been there, so to speak…” she tailed off, the implication clear, and then, to give him time to mull it over, she turned her attention to their Shinya, and to Shara.

Alses needed no encouragement to scrutinize Opheria with the full force of her not-inconsiderable powers; the sudden loss of light had prompted a near-instinctive reaction that saw her plunged on a long dive down to the numinous depths of her skill, where physical sight barely existed and the world was lit by the obscured machinery of the heavens instead.

She was swimming in the Shinya, her senses weaving in and out of strands of wavering colour, drinking in every scrap of information radiating out from the protector’s soul, sifting each and every one of them effortlessly through the shimmering matrix world, reflecting each glimmering filament through filters and baffles and shimmering interactions that her magic almost-subconsciously deployed, sending understanding without conscious effort to her brain.

Discipline and control – cracked and crazed; the situation slipping away from the ordered and orderly Shinya protector – that was easy to see, slotted like shielding armour over softer, more delicate threads and waves of colour and sound and touch. Shinya training had done that; Alses had seen it many a time before, an example of the way that the guards of the city could shrug off uncertainty and impossible odds and demands on their mental and physical resources in defence of the city. Something in the training instilled that aegis inside each and every one of them, an impressive arcane manifestation of mundane effort and perseverance.

Alses had found herself almost-subconsciously sorting the Shinya guards into their various ranks based on the strength of that internal shield, and on whether it was even present or not – initiates were allowed to patrol, after all, under the auspices of an older and more experienced guardsman, to give them a gentle introduction into civil peacekeeping and thief-taking under veteran supervision. Probably a good idea, to moderate high ideals and fire under a gentler superior, someone who’d seen the way of the world and who could tell the difference between a friendly debate and a furious argument in Springwater Square without the benefit of auristics.

With a flicker of thought she brought herself back to the task in hand, winding all the million million wavering strands of her magic tighter and tighter around Opheria, absorbing every erg of radiant aura and integrating it, as only a formally-trained aurist could, into the wider picture.

Soon – auristics at this depth was quick, a tradeoff for considerable djed expenditure – she’d know the Shinya inside out; hopes and fears and dreams as well as emotions and gross physical states. It was the arrogance of the body to think it could constrain or control the soul, and that was what Alses so effortlessly read.

This far down, away – mentally, if not physically - from the halls of the dead they’d found themselves in, the course of Alses’ intent turned from a mantling shield that drank in everything about the Shinya – from her ‘regard’ (and that was all Alses was prepared to accord the blushing rose of silver and low, lupine laughter) for the Seeker, Shara, to her distaste for the antics of Zeran, to her unshakeable faith in Zintila and the starry city so high above, to, at the last, a faint whispering prickle of melancholy grief, buried so deep anyone but a master would have missed it, and much else besides – into a jabbing needle, a dancing lance that darted in and out, a thousand, two thousand times in the space of a few ticks, a continual probing assault on the radiating energies, a fast and elegant technique that brought information to Alses and – crucially – disruption to any obfuscation attempts.

Nothing could hide from her, not for long, not whilst magic roared through her at full spate, directed and controlled to flay secrets from a single person.

‘Now,’ she cackled gleefully, but only for internal consumption, ‘Let us see what you might be hiding, dear protector. Or what might be hiding in you…’

[Zeran]

The cane made a familiar clacking against the stone as Zeran walked from the interrogations of the others. He had gotten his answer; this place was indeed alive, and he had only smiled at the words that drove his curiosity further into the darkest depths of the cave. Something had a mind of its own, something that shouldn't have to begin with. Zeran wanted to know what and how, not for any academic reasons like some of the others, but so he could say what he had seen. Zael continued to give information, and thoughts continued to be shared. Zeran stood before the urns of the room, watching their simple shape, but following the intricate patterns painted on the ceramic. Was the sentience responsible for these urns? Or did it move in some time after this place had its use as a tomb. Compulsion got the better of him, feeling the need to adjust each urn so it sat perfectly central in its own recess in the wall. Even the lids atop each one fell under his scrutiny. "Might as well take the time to attend to the dead while I'm here," he muttered. "The living cave doesn't seem to care much for them." He stopped for a moment, picking up on a few words as Zael spoke still. Descending further sounded like a bad idea from the ghosts words, but the news didn't hold much sway over Zeran's thoughts as he turned back towards the ghost, now absorbed in self-pity. Zeran listened to the further exchange of words. Jenni's reluctance to continue and Alses' ideas formed from reason. "From where I stand, it's irrelevant whether we should continue or not. Although they might be content to stay," he followed the rows of urns with the top of his cane, "I have no desire to stay here any longer than I would like, neither am I so heroic as to kill myself for the sake the masses simply because we can't go back the way we came." Zeran paced up and down the rows he had already tended to, checking his own handiwork. "I'll take an alternative return if one is found, but I have no reservations about carrying on if it is the only way. In the meantime, feel free to make a martyr of yourself Lady Jenni. We shall make sure your heroism is known if we all make it out." Happy with what he had already finished, Zeran continued on to other rows. "As for filling the cave in, whilst a nice thought, I'm sure the current occupants would disagree with you Alses. There must've been a reason it wasn't sealed before." He removed one urn from its resting place, making a point of showing who he was talking about, before returning his new friend back to his place. "Sorry for the abrupt moving around, but I needed some help. Thanks." "The only problem we have now is dealing with the earthquakes we cause," Zeran said, voicing his own thoughts. "We have no way backwards, so we can only go forwards. From what Sir Zael has said, that will cause even further earthquakes sooner or later. We just need to make sure we don't get killed in them now, before we worry about what damages they cause." Loose dust jumped into the air as Zeran fell to the floor, crossing his legs as he sat in his own thoughts. "Yes, we need to continue you, but what about the cave? What about it? There's not a lot that can be done about it, so why the need to worry? It doesn't care what it kills, or how many. Just look at Sir Zael, it killed him and numerous other residents of Lhavit. Another few won't matter. True, but why did he come back? Guilt, that's what Alses' has said. Is that it though?" A wide grin found itself across his face again, as Zeran looked up at Zael. "Why did you return, Sir Zael? Our Ethaefal is kind enough to give you a reason, but is it correct? What's to say you didn't just return for fear of facing Lhex? Are you a coward, Sir Zael?" Zeran laughed as he got himself to his feet, understanding why people liked poking with questions in interrogations. They were fun. The metal tip of the cane tapped against the floor, sweeping it in an arc. "You don't care for the numerous dead within this room, do you? So why for the ones on the surface? Death happens in life, and happens a number of times every day. I see no reason in getting upset over the deaths of people you have neither know nor care about, especially if both Lhex and Dira believed it was their time. I doubt you'd be fun to be around if you did." The distance Zeran had put between himself and the group from his urn rearrangement lessened as he approached. "If you are guilty for the deaths of many, that may be indirectly your fault, what do you intend to do about it? Help us find and stop the cause, at the possible cost of more lives? Try and stop us, and any future explorers, here to prevent any further mass-catastrophes? Or are you going to sit here and feel sorry for yourself, too afraid to face Lhex in his waiting room, and too incompetent to do anything else?" "Honestly, I don't blame you for their deaths. How were you to know? You were curious, and you can't be blamed for that. It was unfortunate, yes, but anyone who blames you is just looking for someone to put the blame on. Get over it."

[Iosha]

Iosha eyes flickered from the spirit to horned Ethaefal named Alse when she told her to be calm and should trust her magic over the visions given to her by Avalis. The konti turned and looked at her for a moment than said simply,“Yes, he might have paid the ultimate sacrifice, but it doesn't give the right to treat the other spirit like he did, Alse. I will not give a pass anyone if they are a complete arse even if they are dead.” Looking at the spirit named Zeal, Iosha said softly, “Have you thought about the possibly that he can't move on to the grand cycle because the cave might be preventing him from leaving? When he was talking to our spirit, he mentioned that when you die, you back as something else if you anger this place.” Iosha turned her attention away from Alse and said without looking at her, “You might be wrong about him being here on his own terms. Unfortunately we might be walking into the same fate as ill fated Trailblazer.”

Iosha turned her attention to Opheria when Shana told her that Opheria might have a concussion. Walking away from Alse, Iosha walked towards the woman and put a comforting hand on her shoulder and said with a smile, “Why don't you sit down, Opheria? Do you remember where you hit your head? If not, may I examine your scalp for any contusions or lacerations?” Iosha knew her line of questioning will help her establish if she truly had a concussion or just a head ache. The Konti half paid a attention to the round of questioning from the hypnotist named Zeran towards the Trailblazer. Focusing back on her work, Iosha asked softly, “I am going to ask you a series of questions, and I want you to answer me truthfully. First question, are you having any symptoms of nausea, dizziness, blurry vision or sensitivity to light? Second question, are you having a hard time concentrating or not thinking clearly? Third question, how are you feeling emotionally right now?”

Iosha knelt down in front of the woman and awaited her answer, but she had the nagging feeling that she should ask the spirit something important, “Zeal, I know it might be emotionally stressful to think about your death, but may I ask. What was the year you were born, and what year did you die?” Iosha heard the Zeal's spirit chastise himself for being the cause of earthquakes, but if the young man died years before the earthquakes started than he wouldn't have to blame himself for the rest of eternity for his mistake. Besides, if he was the cause of the earthquakes than he could tell them the reason for the earthquakes. Iosha turned her attention back to Opheria and said with a smile, “Sorry, I had to ask something of Zeal. Now you have my undivided attention, Opheria.” Half listening to Zeal's answer to her question, Iosha sat there kneeling and started to ponder her next move if the Shinya had a concussion.

[Elysium]

The ghost spluttered. ”I care because I knew those people!” He turned, eyes flashing. ”I don’t know the people in these urns! It sounds like you just don’t know what it’s like…” He seethed. ”I bet you don’t have a single person that you can call a friend. And if you do, it’s good to know you won’t care if they die…” The ghost was infuriated, now. He crossed his arms. ”You know what? I’m not going to help you.” He turned his chin toward the sky. ”Good work,” Opheria mumbled irritably. In her aura, Alses would find an array of shooting pain, disrupting normally tranquil processes. It seemed their Shinya was injured but luckily, nothing more. The ghost blinked at Iosha, incredulous. ”I think you know what year I died… Uh, this year.” He wasn’t quite as angry with her. ”As for the year I was born, it was 496 AV.” Zael shook his head. ”As for the rest of you, you all can go petch yourselves. I don’t care.” Shara sighed. ”Zeran, could you try a little delicacy, next time? Even if we hogtie the kid and drag him back, we can’t make him help us.” They were left in a difficult situation, then. Opheria allowed Iosha to examine her. There seemed to be a long gash across her scalp and it was leaking blood pretty rapidly. She obviously had been struck by a piece of falling debris in the process of trying to shield the others. ”I think it’s decided,” Shara said finally. ”If we ever hope to get out, we have to move forward. Let’s be brave.” And at that statement, the rest of the cavern growled ominously. ”Hoo boy,” she breathed. And so they’d wait until Iosha was finished buttoning Opheria up and then they’d descend, into the darkness that waited beyond.

[Jenni Twilight]

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The boy seemed to overreact slightly when Zeran accused him of not caring. The outburst seemed to be that of someone who was stressed and irritated. Honestly... Jenni couldn't blame him. Dying, and causing all those other deaths? That had to be traumatic. She wondered what she would do if she were in that situation... but it was a hard thing to think of. Better to try and forget the consequences, and focus on making things work now. Namely, getting out of this cave.

After a short discussion, it was apparently decided that they were to keep moving... as if there was anywhere else to go. The cave make a scary... growling... sound, one that caves did not normally make. But they'd already figured out that the cave was unusual indeed, from all they'd seen. How she wished this was just a normal cave, and educational exploration... rather than something with death mixed in. It was not what she'd signed up for... though, if everything went her way, she'd get some valuable information out of it.

The Twilight waited patiently for the others to begin walking, and began pacing a little around the large room, sticking to the closest wall. The urns were just as disturbing as everything else... how did they get here? So many... it must have taken ages to move them here. Or... make them here? Even stranger. From what they'd figured out, this was pre-Valterrian... and those from that time were very strange indeed. At least... they were different.

She walked up to one of the urns and peeked inside, glancing over its pottery rim to see what it contained. She repeated that with a few more, vaguely hoping that their contents would help her delve their purpose. If they were empty... they were either just for show, or whatever had been inside them had disappeared long ago. Personally, she felt like they would hold dirt, or ash, or something... powdery like that. Sand? They felt like they would hold something like that. Or just... air. She wished suddenly that Eyris had marked her, and she could delve such information from a single touch. However, that day had yet to come... though she hoped it would come around soon.

Common - Nari/Crook - NPC - Writing - Reading

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[Zeran]

Zael's words rung in Zeran's head, muffling all others that may have left the ghost's mouth, as his grip tightened around the head of the cane until it hurt. Goading was always a double-edged sword. You'd give some and expect to take at least as much, and he had no right to complain after starting it. However, he hadn't expected those words to hit such a sore spot in particular. Zael held an anger that had made a significant impact on his own accusations. "Ouch," he replied, letting the word hang in the air for a moment, arranging his own thoughts. "Well done Wisp. I can't remember the last time somebody managed to say something that held such weight to me. Rest assured you're capable of doing something in your afterlife." Zael was the centre focus as he approached. All the others melded in with the background. "Though your head seems to be as empty as your form suggests." The butt of his cane ended up through the ghost's head before Zeran's sentenced had finished. "If you had the capacity to listen over the sound of your own self-pity, you would've heard I don't care for people I don't know." The cane swished as it moved through the air, along with Zael's head, with ease. The action was pointless, it it did nothing to the wisp, but the meaning behind it was a great relief as Zeran turned away, clenching his teeth. "I had a friend once," he said as he walked. "A true friend as well. A Kelvic named Elianna in Ravok. Can't say what she thinks much of me now to be honest though. Ended up breaking one almighty promise to her, and I'm not entirely certain how she took it. Never went back to see." Opheria didn't look to be in the best of conditions, speaking in rasps and murmurs as she muttered something up at him. He, in turn, turned to regard her. "You still alive there Miss Guardian? I appreciate the sentiment, though unfortunately we still need to ask as much of you as we have been doing, seeing as the touchy night-light over there isn't helping. It's only fair we take things at your pace. Rest as long as you need. Provided that's acceptable with everyone else." "Back to you Wisp," Zeran turned over his shoulder, "at least I haven't gotten anyone I care for killed yet. How many did you get in one go with your own selfish thoughts?" He primed Zael with a small amount of shame to add to his own guilt. "And how lucky do you think those that remain will be to survive another earthquake that could've been prevented had you been the better person and helped us?" Fear followed, possibly blown to greater proportions from knowing the same thing had happened only recently. "It's as you said Wisp, I don't care. So their deaths are going to weigh only on you." The performance was finished with a flash, showing the devastation of Lhavit that Zeran had seen with his own eyes. The bodies that had littered the streets chimes after it had finished. A flash held a better effect when he took the images from his own memory, rather than creating one. "Now, rot in a hole Wisp. By your own decision, we have no use for you." It was done, and Zeran had nothing more to do with Zael. Whether the conditioning swayed the ghost's choice or hardened it made no difference now. They could only be better off as they had nothing to lose. Even if Zael did stick around, one thing that was guaranteed was that Zeran had burnt down any and all bridges he had of being on good terms with him, but he didn't fancy dying just yet. Despite Zael's willingness to help people he didn't like in order to prevent harm to those he did, Zeran wasn't as fussy as to turn it away regardless of who gave it. "I'm terribly sorry Lady Shara," he apologised, falling into a low bow before the Kelvic. "I shall do as you ask and try a little more delicacy, next time." The innocent smile he offered probably would've meant something, had he not been a contributing factor to their problems. Maybe some of them will forgive me. Each passing chime added to the animalistic nature of the cave, reinforced by the growl permeating through the rock from the depths of the cavern. Zeran could only smile as he turned back to the group, raising his hand. "I still have no problems taking lead, unless someone else wants the position more."

[Alses]

There was an almost audible snap in the air as Alses’ fraying patience – already tested by the reckless antics of Zeran and Marina earlier – broke.

“Then you’ll have the deaths of the rest of us on your hands, Zael of the Dawn Tower,” she observed quietly, her voice cold and clear: the tone and pitch she used on her students to quell disobedience and force attention, a vastly marked change from the usual melodious cadences. Her voice wove around Zeran’s own, filling in the pauses and gaps. “A few more to add to your already frankly impressive tally, how nice for you. What’s a few more drops of blood when you’re already swimming in it, after all?” Blunt and harsh, perhaps – uncalled-for, some might say, but the darkness and the oppressive weight of the earth overhead were getting to her.

Zeran, it was evident, felt exactly the same way about the turn that events had taken – even though he had been the instigator of much of it. She stayed silent as his magic surged once, twice, thrice, directed to some arcane purpose against the dead djed of the ghostly apparition, lancing tendrils of magic puncturing the outermost coronae of Zael’s aura and then splitting and splitting into a Yggdrasil-esque network of filaments that arrowed further in, tinting and changing the essential energies of the boy’s soul.

Fascinating to watch; Hypnotism at work, doubtless, but whether it would take or not…that was another matter entirely.

“We have no time for petulant children and their antics,” she began once he’d finished, reinforcing Zeran’s points, and then stopped, considering. Truth was…important. “No, I tell a lie, I have an infinite amount of time at my disposal, and yet very limited patience for such things. Especially, and we do hope I make ourself clear here, when the existence of one of the only vaguely tolerable spots on this petching ball of mud, a place that we call home and that has a large number of people we care about still living in it, potentially hangs in the balance.” Her glare was fiery and hard, uncompromising.

“Zael. If we go on – and we have no choice in the matter - and we die, know this: I will turn down Lhex and spit in Dira’s eye to stay as a ghost here myself and I will torment you to the best of my ability down the ages until one of us ends up a gibbering and snivelling wreck. If we go on and by some miracle we survive without your help, without your experience and your forewarning of what is to come, then I will pay the finest spiritists in Lhavit to come down here and inflict whatever tortures they can on your incorporeal body before sending you screaming to Dira, have we made ourself perfectly clear?”

Alses’ mean streak, that twisting kink of ruthlessness normally hidden and veiled, was out in full force; an altogether uglier side of her patchwork personality had come to the fore down in the dark.

“On the other hand,” she continued, tone suddenly light and even rather jolly, all the odder for the previous viciousness, “Help us and we’ll laud you to the highest pinnacle of the Twuele. Loyal and true to the city even beyond death, a credit to his Tower and his name…whatever you like.” Carrot and stick, basic but often disturbingly effective, coupling fear and desire together into a beautifully elegant social tool.

A sigh, a long and slow exhalation of breath, and in its wake Alses seemed smaller, somehow, crushed in on herself by the weight of the earth overhead. She sounded almost resigned, now, rather than incandescently furious, cheerful or even the serene calm her kind were known for. “Either way, I second Shara. Let’s be off when the lady Shinya’s been attended to and we've all calmed a little; the sooner we confront whatever’s in these Syna-forsaken depths, the better. Death or sunshine,” she added, a lopsided and slightly macabre grin breaking through for a moment even as she turned to address Zeran. “Speaking for ourself, I’m quite happy for you to continue at the vanguard, Zeran, but…perhaps not so far ahead this time? And if we tell you to stop, for all’s sake do it, hmm?”

Her attention was drawn, then, to the studious and quiet Jenni Twilight, pacing around the half-ruined chamber all unnoticed in the fraught atmosphere that Zael’s declaration, and the subsequent rebuttals from Zeran and herself, had generated. Now, with her temper vented for the moment and sweet reason prevailing, the steady and measured pace of the quiet academic, the slow and careful scrutiny of the surrounds, drew her. It was a reminder of more civilised times, of the person she tried to be up in the light, where everything was so much easier.

“Have you found anything, Lady Jenni?” she called quietly, not wanting to startle the girl.

[Iosha]

“Sorry I have to check your head to see if you cut yourself when you hit your head.” Iosha leaned forward and started to move Opheria hair to get a better look at her scalp. When she started to look through her hair, she found a contusion with a small cut on the back of her head. Knowing the extent of the injury, Iosha reached into her back pack and pulled out her field healer's kit. She opened her box and reached into it and pull out her roll of bandages and vial of salve. Parting the woman's hair away from the wound, Iosha raised her hand and gently put it over the wound. The konti closed her eyes and said a soft prayer to Rak'keli in Kontinese, “Rak'keli could you please help me purify her wound of any impurities caused by the accident, and could you please alleviate her headache, so she can concentrate on the task at hand?” Feeling a gentle warm thing in her heart, Iosha could tell Rak'keli heard her call for help, so she murmured in Kontinese, “Thank you.”

Iosha opened her eyes and say her hand start to glow a soft blue. The healer couldn't tell how bad the Opheria's concussion was by looking at it, but at least the healer could alleviate the pain. When the soft glow disappeared, Iosha corked her salve, reached into it with her finger, and put a little bit on her finger. Pulling it from the vial, she gently smeared it on the top of the bruise and the cut. When Iosha was finished with the salve, she pressed one end of the bandage to the back of her head and started to wrap it around the warriors head a couple times. When Iosha felt like she had enough of the bandage, she used both of her hands to tear the bandage. When she was finished with roll, she put back into the box and tied both end of bandage. Smiling at Opheria, Iosha warned her, “I don't know the extent of your possible concussion, but I need you to take it easy because you can injure yourself more if you are not careful.” Putting the rest of her equipment in her backpack, Iosha stood up and said to the group, “Sorry it took me, so long...” When the cavern growled suddenly, the konti's eyes widen in fear and waited for the group to continue.

oocSorry it took me, so long to respond, my life after Christmas had a couple of unexpected turns, but I am back and ready to continue.

[Marina Agamand]

OOCSpeeding this thread along at the speed of light! The other room was dark and quiet. Urns of the same familiar design lined the shelves all across the walls. An even thicker layer of dust covered every inch of the chamber, and nothing looked damaged. This side of the now-gone walkway was clearly the least exciting, since it was apparently untouched ever since its builders left it. The spectre floated around the room, taking care not to whip up the dust, and examined it for any curiosities. A hidden treasure in one of the urns? A lurking monster? A secret passage? Nothing. If the ghost could draw breath, she would have let out a sigh of disappointment. Oh, how much happier she would have been if some untold horror lunged out at her from the shadows! But sometimes, Marina told herself, one must gather one's patience and let the good things come when they may. sweeping one last glance Listening to the exchange between the ghost and the group, Marina smiled inwardly. The boy's cheeky responses and unwillingness to cooperate seemed natural to her. But the girl knew how to deal with capricious brats. She was one, after all. Verbal threats and promises would do nothing but feed his ego. This required a hands-on approach. Still staying in the shadows, the ghost analysed the situation. The boy was somewhat larger than her, but seeing as he died very recently, he probably didn't have any proficient control over his soulmist. The fact that he currently had his attention turned away from her sealed the deal. Zeran's grab earlier wasn't enough. Poor Zael hasn't received his share of manhandling yet. Marina's uncommon sense was tingling, as usual when something reckless was in order. Detaching from the doorway of the distant, beshadowed room in one swift motion, the spectre slithered silently across the chasm, depraved intentions filling her mind. It wasn't often that an opportunity to toy with a weaker ghost arose for Marina, and she wasn't going to let it pass. Although usually quite peaceful, here the wraith saw a golden opportunity to get violent. And, as any wise man would confirm, there are no problems violence can't solve. Clearly, this boy was unworthy of ceremony, and trying to guilt trip a ghost into doing something was a waste of breath. In Marina's mind, what the group really needed from the boy was not his sympathy, it was his submission. Just as Alses finished her fiery monologue, the lurking ambusher lunged from behind the boy, sinking her fingers into his sides and beginning to furiously tickle him. The scene looked comical enough to anyone nearby, but to Zael, it was like being burned with hot iron. Tiny tendrils of soulmist extended from Marina's fingers, her arms, her entire body, reaching for his essence, tearing and consuming it little by little. "Disgusting. Revolting! That you even dare to argue them. Do you think you can escape responsibility for this? May you be brought back to life, so that the invigilators of this land may execute you for your crimes! You are nothing. You decide nothing. You are blessed that these people are here to repair the damage you have caused. I solicit you, rapscallion! You shall assist, or you shall suffer a thousand years!" Marina paused her assault for a moment, before using her freed hands and tendrils to latch onto Zael like a hungry lion onto a zebra's back, in order to prevent his escape. Whispering so that only he could hear, the older ghost traced a cold, sharp nail across the male apparition's blurry throat, her voice dripping with glee. "If any of them dies for any reason, I will make you feel their pain. Serve your own interests, knave, and do as I say." The malevolent spectre was fully aware that it wasn't her place to pass judgement on Zael, but she was taking great pleasure in this. Besides, it would only help the group along; Marina did genuinely want to support their heroic endeavor. Maybe it was because she cared about the city. Maybe it was only because she wanted to lay her mitts on whatever sinister pre-Valterrian relic might have been at the bottom of this catacomb. At the very least, she was not indifferent to the fates of her companions, while this sudden acquaintance was nothing but a means to an end.