What Lies Beneath

[Kysis]

Continued From: Soaring Dragon, Singing Blades


Boots clicked as they padded down the worn stone stairs, soles somehow gripping on the slick, damp surface.  The shadows skittered away as he descended, globe of light bobbing up and down just behind his head and to the right, casting long shadows and rays of white, magical light down the tunnel of the staircase.  The light of day had vanished a while ago, Eilzair turning his head just slightly to look up the way they had come.  All he could see was darkness.

He kept his sword out, tip positioned downward as he walked.  He could easily enough bring his blade into a thrust or a parry from that stance, as relaxed and unprepared as it seemed.  The staircase was narrow, steep.  Any battle within would be extremely constricted.  Eilzair would not even be able to summon forth his wings if he tried.  The narrow way was making him claustrophobic.

Especially after the open of the library and the garden the night before.

Eilzair reached forward with hesitant fingers, tips brushing over the edge of the scroll before touching lightly the aged parchment, removing it from the stack gently.  He could feel the magic playing over its surface.  Radiant eyes scanning over the magic there, he read it mentally, committing the words to memory though they would do him no good without the scroll.  Maybe one day.

Taking it with him, he left the library, walking a straight line for the garden.  The ward shimmered and crackled when he drew near, splitting so he could step within the door.  That part closed again when he was within.  Eilzair stepped across the grass, boots flattening areas as he walked.  He had clothed himself properly after he left Teyne’s room, his riding suit on for the warmth it provided.  The garden always felt cold.  He sat down, before Iseth’s grave.  It was utterly silent.  It was utterly dark.

“Shirak.”

The crystalline globes in the long, stagnant pools of water came to life, giving forth just enough illumination to read the magic by.  Eilzair sat with a straight back, eyes downcast on the parchment.  Some magic-casters said their spells with a flare, like a performance.  He spoke his with a quiet voice, solemn, sad.  The words of the arcane language tumbled out like pristine spring water, filling the still night air.  He could feel the energy gathering and collecting, pulling forth from deep beneath him.

He had to see his master one last time.

As the spell finished, silence hanging on his lips, the entire garden lit up.  For a moment Eilzair feared he had failed, eyes widening, bright blue, breath stolen from his lungs.  Then the light dimmed.  A smoky, transparent visage of Iseth sat across from him, violet eyes blinking a few times before focusing on Eilzair.  There was a puzzled look on the phantom’s face.  Eilzair could not help but smile, its tugging up at the edges of his lips.

“Hello, Iseth.”

Then his master looked up, locking eyes with the younger dragon disciple.  His golden wings fluttered, grin spreading across his lips in mirror.  Iseth’s eyes lit up, unlike Eilzair’s. “You escaped.”  There was a wistful tone to his voice, hopeful, uplifting.  Eilzair closed his eyes and savored it.

“Yes.”

“What are you doing now?”

“Daheiyna has informed me of some leads as to the cult’s whereabouts.  An elven woman lives here now.  I saved her from a life of slavery.”

“Is she pretty?”

“Iseth!”

The older dragon disciple laughed, light and easy.  It was just as Eilzair remembered.  It was almost like Iseth was not really dead.

“Well, is she?”

Eilzair refrained from answering, steering the conversation onwards.  What Teyne looked like did not matter to their conversation in the least. “Remember the waterfall you took me to, where we camped that one time?  You showed me how you could swim better with wings.”

“Yes.”

“There is a secret door in the back.”

“I know.” Iseth said it nonchalantly, as if the door did not at all matter.  He ran a hand back through his long blond hair, leaving it as a messy halo around his golden tanned face.  His slit eyes did not waver in their cheerfulness. “Down one path is an ancient tomb of a sorcerer, the first recorded of our kind.  Down the other path is a cult, which wishes to resurrect him.”

It made sense suddenly.  Eilzair figured there were powerful guardians in that tomb, the reason the tunnel to the cult was warded, probably to keep those guardians from attacking.  Eilzair suddenly wanted to explore the tomb, but knew that would have to wait.  If the cult felt they were too weak to leave it open, and Eilzair felt he was too weak to face the cult, he would definitely be too weak to face whatever was in that crypt.

“What color are your wings?  I can sense them there, hidden.  Why don’t you show me.”

The spell crackled, a warning that it was about to end.  Eilzair only had a few seconds.  He could not tell him.  The image of Iseth became hazy before flickering out entirely, the spirit returning to where it had come from.  Eilzair felt guilty.  He could not tell Iseth.  What would Iseth think, seeing those blood red wings spread from his pupil’s back?  It made him hurt inside.

But Iseth was glad Eilzair was alive.  That would be enough to exist upon for now.  Eilzair went back to the library, where Teyne found him slumbering in the morning.

Eilzair continued downward, feeling the chill of undead ahead.  As much as he felt the tingling of magic rise in his blood, that want to let it loose, he restrained himself.  These crypts might be connected to the actual ruins beneath the city, where the cult was.  Eilzair had to be careful.  No magic from him.  No draconic powers from him.  Just his sword.

“It is not much farther.  I can feel them.” He turned his head to speak, eyes seeking out Teyne.  Just two days ago, they had spent the whole day together, and then most of the night as well.  Though he had gone back to sleeping in his own room (after cutting down the noose), he still craved closeness to her.  Teyne was all he had, at this point.

[Existentially Odd]

She nodded acknowledgement of his statement, knowing he would see it in the light shed by his damnable globe.  He would be useless without it and she wasn\'t sure how pitch it was in this horrid space - there might not be enough light for her exemplary vision to amplify it - but she\'d have liked to find out.  It messed with what she saw, causing her to constantly look beyond the light source itself, in an effort to gauge properly what was ahead.

Thankfully, her hearing wasn\'t thusly hindered (despite Eilzair\'s graceless attempts at sneaking) and she\'d detected some movement ahead.  They\'d come into this place prepared for some skeletons, perhaps a zombie... she hoped there wouldn\'t be anything worse.  They\'d only been able to secure one vial of holy water each.

The biggest problem she foresaw at this stage was the tunnelled stair case; neither of them was going to be able to swing a weapon inside it comfortably.  Eilzair\'s sword was huge and he\'d be restricted to thrusting in the confines they were in, she wouldn\'t even get a chance to do anything.  She was dressed in her dark green leather outfit, with her six throwing daggers inside it and a mace and a club at her hips (she\'d left her swords, bow and arrows at home, since she knew they wouldn\'t be much use against skeletons) but she couldn\'t exactly move in behind Eilzair and start clubbing randomly; she\'d hit him first and do nothing useful afterwards.

Teyne gestured Eilzair onwards, knowing he would be thinking the same thing and seeing no point talking about it.  They\'d done enough of that, that morning, when they\'d talked about what they\'d do in this fight this afternoon.  Eilzair\'s strategy was quite straight forward - he was going to try and avoid using spells and swing his sword as much as possible.  Teyne was a great deal more complicated.  She\'d ended up explaining her arsenal to her master in far greater detail, explaining the benefits she\'d gained from her years of varied experience.

Each morning, she prayed for one spell to aid her through the day, thanks to her ranger heritage.  This day, she\'d chosen the ability to detect snares and pits.  She could also cast a total of seven arcane spells each day thanks to her bardic experience.  Her most powerful spell could only be used once, but she had the choice of curing a moderate wound, making one of them extra strong or invisible or harder to see (and therefore hit) in combat.  It would depend on the situation as to who would gain the benefit of such a spell and if it was desperately needed.  She had a bit more leeway with the easier spells she knew.

Also to be considered as part of her repertoire were the songs she could sing.  She\'d learned four from her mother - though there were others she\'d not had the concentration or interest in learning, because she\'d grown tired of travelling and learning by the time she was fifty or so and was more interested in settling down in the forests around her home and attending to her father\'s teachings.  Given that she knew she was limited in concentration, she didn\'t sing any of the songs she knew, realising that their complexity and the effort that went into them would sap too much energy for nought; best to keep them all to herself, just in case.

Instead, she explained to Eilzair that she could sing a song which boosted their fighting abilities, one that would counteract some spell effects, one that could keep a creature fascinated with her (though she couldn\'t fight while singing that one) or a song that would inspire competence in the two of them.  As long as they stayed within relatively close proximity, they\'d be fine.

Their session together had been informative but hadn\'t given them a great deal of preparation.  A lot of what happened in combat was spontaneous on Teyne\'s behalf - especially since she was using blunt weapons to do greater damage to the undead denizens of the tomb they were investigating.  She wouldn\'t be able to perform a bladesong in such a manner, and her assassin skills weren\'t likely to aid her much, either.  They did show one another a few of their moves and had made a half-hearted attempt at co-ordinating some blows - her avoiding the extended reach of Eilzair\'s sword seemed of paramount importance - but ended up deciding fighting back to back was going to be the only way to do that safely.  It suited Teyne, anyway.  They\'d then headed to the sacred grounds where the undead had been reported as living at, just after lunch.

At this point, however, there was no fighting.  Just an extraordinarily long flight of stairs in a confined tunnel where the stench was an assault in its own right and the footing beneath her soft boots precarious (it was also seeping wet coldness in with each step).  As Eilzair said, though, it wouldn\'t be far until there was some action, which should hopefully relieve some of the tension holding her muscles stiff.  She wanted to know if he could see the bottom.  She wanted to tell him to be careful at the bottom, for there was likely to be a trap of some sort there.  She wanted to squeeze his shoulder in reassurance (but couldn\'t reach).  She wanted to start swinging.

Ah, the thrill and the angst of battle.

[Kysis]

Eilzair had been down into the crypt before, though just briefly.  The gravekeeper had to go down there on occasion to be sure all the residents still rested in peace, and one time he had requested Eilzair as a bodyguard.  He remembered the layout of the entryway area, and how there were no traps to spring until after the first hallway.  Eilzair stepped nimbly down the last few steps, waiting for a second before launching out of the opening on a powerful spring with his legs.

The first skeleton was cleaved in half before it or its fellows noticed there was someone there, Eilzair spinning with his momentum, foot coming up to kick another back as he slashed horizontally through another which had just turned towards him.  There were five more left standing, and in battle instinct, the spell flew forth before he could stop it, bright missiles of magical energy bursting out from his left hand, one for each skeleton.  They thudded in to the things and exploded their brittle rib-cages, Eilzair noted that they were a lesser form of the usual skeleton one found wandering a crypt.

The room was littered with bones, Eilzair lowering his sword and turning back to face the staircase, where Teyne still was.

“Change of tactics.  I’ll fight how I fight, and you fight how you fight.” Eilzair had not explained the extent of his spell knowledge (or lack there of) to Teyne.  He had, however, explained that his swordsmanship and sorcery were at a dead equal for now.  Eilzair hoped to change that in the near future.  He could work on his draconic powers elsewhere, when the cult would not be breathing down his back.  They could just be biding their time, waiting for him to increase in power again.  Eilzair did not want to give them the satisfaction of that.

[Existentially Odd]

She blinked at the disarray around them, then up at Eilzair.  Her shoulders slumped ever so slightly.  "Right," she sighed, surveying the destruction and him with incredulity.  She muttered to herself that he might need to leave something to fight for her to get a chance at doing what she was good at, but said it deliberately low enough that he would only hear speech, not content.

"So... you think that\'s all then?"

[Kysis]

"No.  I can sense more ahead."

Eilzair looked around the main room with the light of his globe to aid him, seeing the overturned coffins and empty burial shelves on the walls.  There were more disturbed remains than what was in the room.  That, and there was something a bit further off.  He could feel the energy buzzing around it, though he was unsure as to what it was.  Eilzair wanted to investigate.

"There are footprints..." The tracks were so blatantly uncovered that even Eilzair noticed them.  He walked up next to them, his own foot not to far away from one of the marks.  The mark was decidedly smaller than his.  A shorter person?  The foot was fat though.  There might have been markings on the bottom of the shoe which left such prints, but Eilzair could not tell.

"I also remember the gravekeeper telling me there were traps up ahead."  The gravekeeper had made sure to steer Eilzair away from them the last time he was there, but had not distinctly pointed them out, and with reason.  The gravekeeper was a touch on the paranoid side and would have no one exploring his crypts without him.... unless there were already undead down there, like now.

[Existentially Odd]

Teyne finally deigned to enter the room when he pointed out the footprints, having been too busy gaping at his domineering attacks to look elsewhere.  It irked her that he\'d pointed them out, too, though it was likely a carryover from his selfish fighting (not that there\'d been much opposition for her to have done much, it was the principle of him not sharing that bothered her).  Still, it wasn\'t as if she wouldn\'t notice footprints, it was what she did for a living, for the sake of the Gods.  He didn\'t need to tell her her job.

She crouched down near the centre of the room, where there were the most indents.  The footprints were small, not human or elf.  Too light for a dwarf, too narrow for a halfling.  Gnome, then.  A gnome that had been up to some sort of mischief... Teyne walked in a crouch around the floor, following the story of what she was likely looking at.  The gnome had entered and stood in one place for quite some time, but then he\'d fled suddenly and in fear, heading for the doorway on the other side, rather than the exit.  That did not make a lot of sense until she realised that the gnome hadn\'t been thinking too well at the time.

Apart from the fact the prints were blurred with speed, in amongst the shattered bones Eilzair had dotted the room with, she found something else that put a whole new slant on the footprint story she\'d concocted.  It was a necklace, made entirely of what appeared to be human finger bones.  Different sizes but the right shape, joined by metal links.  At the centre (opposite the clasp) was a tiny, shrivelled hand, complete with claws attached.  Teyne picked up the necklace (simply touching it first to see whether it had any negative effects to deal her through her gloves) and inspected the miniature hand, quickly deciding it wasn\'t the limb of a natural beast.  It was probablysome sort of demon.

She got up and walked it over to Eilzair, knowing the thing was magical.  "Someone\'s been in here playing with magic they don\'t properly understand," she announced dryly, holding the necklace up so he could see it clearly.  "I\'d say this is some sort of animate dead amulet," she scoffed, having recognised such things from being in Zaruul\'s employ.  "But once it actually worked, the gnome ran out to escape the fruits of his labour.  Or hers," she added consideringly, though the pressure of those footprints indicated a male.  "Do you want me to go first this time?" she asked brightly, thinking her skills at detecting doors naturally might help.  She might consider casting her trap discovery spell as well, but would wait for her position to be confirmed or denied..

[Kysis]

Eilzair took the amulet in his free hand, feeling the waning magical energy in it and floating across its surface.  It had been used recently, Eilzair thought.  Perhaps?  He was not too sure.  Some of its abilities were starting to return, but not enough to use the amulet again.  Knowing it would be useful in explaining the situation to the gravekeeper when they were finished, Eilzair kept the amulet, hooking it on his belt for safe keeping.  It might even come to use in the future.

"Go on ahead."  He could feel a slight bit of irritation coming from Teyne, though he had no clue why.  Did it have to do with their first combat encounter together?  Eilzair had told Teyne he thought his elven name mostly fit for a reason.  He tried to be like lightning on the battlefield.  The shorter the battle, the less likely he or any allies would be injured.  So why not make it fast and efficient?  That was Eilzair\'s reason, at least.

Though he would have to learn to fight with only a sword.  When they finally did confront the cult head on, he wanted his full arsenal of spells ready for those mages at the head of it all.

"I cannot sense traps or doors to save my life." Eilzair added, with a short, quiet laugh.  He had not been so moody lately.  It was as if a great weight had been lifted off his chest.  Eilzair had not told Teyne about the spell he did, to commune with his dead mentor.  Nor did he see it as necessary.

[Existentially Odd]

Teyne gave her partner a slightly crooked look, an ironically raised eyebrow skewed for his benefit.  He seemed to be in a disconcertingly good mood, considering.  She\'d assume that it was the battle that agreed with him, if it weren\'t for the fact that he\'d been similar ever since they\'d spent the night together.  She could therefore only conclude that their time together had done him as much good as it had done her; she was sorry it had ended so abruptly, really, but not to the point where she\'d actually discuss it.

With an exhalation of air that likely didn\'t convey the amusement she felt (now that she\'d been approved for doing something useful that didn\'t include standing in a doorway merely observing, anyway), she turned and led the way stealthily out of the room they were in, following the fleeing footsteps.  Numerous feet had shambled after this figure; she believed there was another eight skeletons and one set of prints that bespoke a zombie.

Her concern shifted as they crept along the connecting corridors, however, to worrying about the gnome.  For a start, he\'d not been coherent enough to realise that there were traps set into the crypt (not a very gnome-like thing to do, as far as she knew), for he\'d triggered two of them.  The first was a series of darts fired from a wall, instigated by a pressure plate set into the floor that, had he been travelling at less than panicked speed, he would have seen without an issue.  Instead, it appeared two darts had hit their mark, for drops of blood were soon to be seen amongst his footprints.  Teyne spared a frown for Eilzair over her shoulder.  "It seems you wouldn\'t need to sense traps or doors to save your life," she commented, before continuing along the gnome\'s path.

His progress was severely hampered after the darts thumped into him and he took a few turns that Teyne never would.  For a start, he was going deeper into the crypt.  He also managed to find another trap, this one seeming a lot more serious than the first (for they were likely heading towards some tombs belonging to very rich and powerful people who desired such protection even after death).

The smell was the first thing she noticed; the stench of burning hair and flesh lingered in the tunnel, searing her nostrils and signalling that she should approach with caution.  It was obviously too late for the gnome, but Teyne was of the belief it didn\'t matter for she and Eilzair.  On either side of the corridor were two statues - gargoyles, perched on small fountains, their grotesque faces drawn back into open-mouthed grimaces, their talon-like claws curled around their knees and the fountains they squatted upon - facing each other.  Both were glyphs of warding, spells cast within them, set to trigger some sort of reaction should anyone unsuspecting approach without a de-bug word or the ability to disengage the ward.  Running at the pace he had been, the gnome had had neither and so the glyphs had gone off as he\'d raced by.

"Fire glyphs," she mused aloud, looking up at Eilzair for his opinion.  Once she got it, she peered cautiously closer to the gargoyle on the left, able to see char marks on the inside of the creature\'s yawning mouth.  The gnome had run by and the gargoyles had spat streams of fire at him, likely singeing his head, at his height.  He would be lucky to have retained his sight or any of his hair; the stench of his skin burning was unmistakable.  It was unfortunate the tresspasser was so short, for the wards were designed to hit around body level for most - no doubt intending to disable their arms from looting the coffins entombed here - but were aimed at a far more vital area for the gnome.  He wouldn\'t be far away, now.

Which led Teyne back to the second thing that had been battering upon her peripheral awareness; the noises that were coming from the doorway just up ahead, on the left side of the passageway.  Nothing extraordinarily loud, just some shuffling with what she thought might be a moan or a whimper every now and then, but it was hard to detect over the sound of numerous feet moving about on the dirty stone flooring.

Again, she made eye contact with Eilzair and nodded towards the doorway, removing her weapons from their positions at her hips.  This time, she would enter the room first.  Ducking beneath the gargoyle\'s mouths (just in case the ward wasn\'t expelled with one burst, even if she thought it unlikely such a trap would have Permanency cast on it), Teyne crept the rest of the way to the burial chamber, keeping herself back and risking a glance inside before she moved.

There were quite a few skeletons in the room, and one zombie.  It was a large space, likely a large family crypt, and she could see numerous dusty and cobwebbed sarcophaguses lining the walls, as well as a few wooden ones down the centre of the room, on biers.  The skeletons all seemed to be milling questioningly around the first one, just inside the room, like bees to a flower in spring.  She hadn\'t been able to see in a glance whether the lid of that coffin was disturbed, but she\'d bet her longswords that it was, that the gnome had clambered into it in his pain and confusion.  She didn\'t know what the undead were hoping to achieve by hanging about him, but without the amulet she could only assume it was going to be violent.

"You go left, I\'ll go right," she hissed at Eilzair and did exactly that.  She moved into the room as a blur.  Sensing her presence, the skeletons turned slowly towards the door but, as with the previous collection, they didn\'t stand a chance.  They were slow and vulnerable, she moved with liquid grace, rising from her low position to slam her mace into their brittle chests with one hand and knock their heads clear with the club in her other.  Her reach was nowhere near as long as her companion\'s, so she got touched with scrabbling, cold fingers of bone, but they did no damage to her as the white crypt inhabitants fell before her.

Thankfully, this chamber was easily wide enough to accommodate her on one side and Eilzair on the other; as the sixth one fell on the right, she looked up to see him dispatch the zombie on the left.  She\'d been aware of his actions, that she\'d had more to fight than him, but she\'d at least left him something to do.  She felt satisfied, rather than hollow this time, and her expression was unknowingly smug as she straightened and dropped her chosen weapons into their scabbards.  "Nice work," she complimented her partner graciously, peering over the coffin that now stood between them to admire his handiwork.  She was pleased that she hadn\'t embarrassed herself, at least (though displeased that what had been presented had been weaker than expected and she\'d not really had a chance to prove herself).

Drawing back and standing on her feet steadily once more, Teyne looked from Eilzair to the coffin and back again.  The lid was off slightly, now that she had the time to look; she and her companion moved it completely away and put it on the floor.  A startled cry met them when they did, and they hurried back to look inside the dark box (highlighted by Eilzair\'s hovering light source, causing the small man inside to blink).

He was a very sore and sorry-looking sight indeed.  As expected, he was a gnome, clinging fearfully to a mostly-decomposed corpse.  He wore grey robes that had been stained maroon with his blood down the right hand side of his torso, and singed black on both shoulders.  His head was covered with blistered flesh, seeping clear liquid and blood in amongst the blackness and tracks at the corners of his eyes and down his cheeks indicated that he\'d been crying.  Judging by the amount of brown hair that was now tufts of blackened clumps atop his head, it was no wonder he\'d begun crying.  It was a miracle he\'d been quiet up to that point - though, on closer inspection, she could see that the little man was barely conscious, thanks to the pain.  That would help his silence, she decided.

Without forethought, Teyne placed her hands upon the gnome\'s side, expelling her energy and murmuring beneath her breath as she channelled it into his wounds.  She closed her eyes in an effort to press the healing will in deeper.  Once that was done, however, she opened them again and regarded his head.  She had already given her greatest heal to the wound she deemed the most life threatening - he seemed a young gnome, inexperienced in crypt-robbing and weak from the loss of blood - but she had another couple she could use on his face.  Again, she touched the wounded area and whispered beneath her breath, needing to use two healing spells (one on each temple) to make the blisters on his skin begin to look better.  She\'d be able to do nothing for his hair, of course.

The gnome appeared to be perking up with the heals flowing into him, his gaze becoming more clear, so she took the opportunity to look up at Eilzair to gauge his impressions before she began questioning the little man (though \'boy\' might have been a more accurate description - it was difficult to tell with gnomes).

[Kysis]

Eilzair followed at what he deemed to be a safe distance.  It was close enough that he could still hear Teyne, could still get to her with a few quick springs from his powerful legs, but not too close.  He still liked his rather large personal bubble.  Eilzair examined the sprung traps as they went, confirming that it was a rather weak fire glyph.  He could have broken it from two rooms over, without really trying.  However, the gnome seemed to get a full blast of it, which would not have been pleasant.

Not that it would have hurt Eilzair.  His heritage did have quite a few advantages.  Eilzair accidentally stuck his hand in the fire not long ago, to retrieve something, he could not remember what.  When he pulled his arm back out, the air was gone from it, but the skin remained unharmed.  It was a handy trick, but unneeded in the field as of yet.

As soon as Teyne told him to go left, he did.  Eilzair darted left once he was through the opening of the door, quickly spotting his adversary.  No magic was needed for this zombie.  Jumping to one side, he began his chain of attacks, lightning fast swings going through the zombie horizontally, five in total, Eilzair holding his sword out to the side after the last.  The zombie fell in ribbons.  Flicking his sword, Eilzair cast all the goo off it, smiling to himself.

It was go to be able to fight again.

Eilzair probably explored it too much for his own good.

As the gnome was located, Eilzair approached, slowly at first as to not frighten him.  Eilzair knew how brightly his eyes glowed in the near pitch black of the crypt.  His globe of light had gone out, just a faint shimmer of light coming from his sword now.  Eilzair would have cast another, but waited, looking down at the gnome, barely able to see him.

Shrugging, Eilzair left the questioning up to Teyne.  He had no idea what to say, much less what to do.  He knew what happened.  Perhaps he should lecture the gnome on magical devices and their proper uses?  No, not yet at least.

[Existentially Odd]

"Are you hurting anywhere else?" Teyne asked, switching her gaze from her partner to the gnome lying on the foul-smelling corpse before her.  She had to stop herself from pulling a face when the small being moved, to test just how injured he still was, and it sent a wave of fragrant decompositional odours her way.  His expression declared that he was expecting this action to result in a great deal of pain, but was surprised when it didn\'t happen.

"No!" he exclaimed in wonder, his voice naturally an octave higher than what would be expected of a human male (but it was quite normal for a gnome).  He responded in the common tongue, as Teyne had addressed him, even though she\'d pondered speaking Gnome.  She wasn\'t very good at the language though, that was the problem.

"What\'s your name?" she continued.

"Jebeddo.  What are your names, sweet rescuers?" he enquired with a twinkle returning to his pale blue eyes, a melodramatic flick of his hand making him seem a little extravagant but well meaning.  Definitely grateful, too.

"I\'m Teyne, this is Eilzair," she answered succinctly, only thinking belatedly that he might not enjoy being introduced to people by his full name but consoling herself with the thought that he\'d never told her such information either, so she shouldn\'t be expected to guess.  "You\'ve had quite an eventful day, Jebeddo.  Would you like some help out of there?"

"Yes please," the gnome responded sheepishly, climbing out of the coffin with a little bit of help from Teyne and Eilzair.  When he was standing on the crypt floor once more, it was a great deal harder to look at him.  He stood as tall as Eilzair\'s hips and Teyne\'s rib cage - when he wasn\'t fussing with straightening his clothing, of course - and that would have made him very difficult to distinguish for her human companion.

Teyne took the time to replace the coffin\'s lid before she spoke to the little man again.  "Care to explain what went on here?" she then demanded, fists going to her hips like a scolding mother.

"Uh... well... you see I uh, came across this necklace in a shop and I... " the little man broke off then, touching the area just below his throat before patting down places in his robe that obviously contained pockets, a growing look of dawning horror expanding his shiny eyes.  "The necklace!" he cried, looking wild-eyed at Teyne.  "I\'ve lost the necklace!"

"No you haven\'t," the woman answered him patiently, gesturing towards her human partner.  "We have it.  I found it amongst the rubble where everything likely went wrong for you."

Jebeddo\'s bright blue gaze swivelled towards Eilzair instantly, spying the item in question dangling from the redhead\'s belt before he leaned back slightly in order to stare imperiously at the human.  "May I have it back?" he demanded, raising singed eyebrows (what was left of them, anyway) in a way that declared he was desperate to get the necklace back.  And fast.

[Kysis]

Eilzair listened quietly, taking note of everything in his mind, though his concentration was elsewhere.  He was searching everything mentally, making sure there were no more undead as well as no cult members.  Their magical signature, so to say, was very well known to him.  However, Eilzair caught no traces of them in the crypt.  That was good.

As much as he wanted his revenge, he also wanted to be strong enough to exact it.

Now would not do.

Suddenly everything was pointing back at him again, Eilzair following the gnome\'s gaze to the amulet.  Eilzair unhooked it from his belt, holding it out too high for the gnome to reach.

"After all the trouble you\'ve already caused?" His voice was a dark purr, mocking but not malicious.  The reminder of Iseth, of why he still had to live, had curbed his evil streak.... for now.  There was no guarantee.  Eilzair had every plan to let his dragon spirit grow in strength, and red dragons were hardly known for their benevolence.

"Magic is a very tricky thing.  In the wrong hands, it could do so much damage.  You have already set off a great deal of traps and awakened these slumbering dead." Eilzair considered not giving back the amulet at all.  Then again, what use did he have for it?  Eilzair would rather be able to cast all spells he used himself.  Relying on equipment only worked until one was stripped of that equipment.  Eilzair had learned the hard way. "Why did you get this amulet in the first place?"

[Existentially Odd]

Jebeddo watched the dangling amulet with what could only be described as a pout upon his face, occasionally casting filthy looks up towards the glowing-eyed stranger.  He knew better than to test his meagre wizardry against two such obviously powerful opponents, however - especially when he\'d used a great deal of his spells for the day in his efforts to escape the terrifying undead assault he\'d endured.

"I... was in the mage tower\'s shop, collecting my reward for doing a few... deeds for them," he answered Eilzair honestly.  Though he obviously skated over the details of the deeds he\'d performed for the mages in the tower, it was enough to state that he had, for they wouldn\'t have challenged anyone who didn\'t have at least some experience or potential about them with one of their tasks.  His collecting a reward also proved he was capable of succeeding at something.

"I enjoy the enchantment school and was told about that necklace.  It cost me a lot of gold because it regenerates so, even though I rather... erm... overstepped my own bounds with it this time, I\'d like it back to learn how to use it properly!" the little man declared, again with all the dignity of a paladin in full, gold plated armour.  He was not at all intimidated by Eilzair\'s glowing eyes and stared into them expectantly.

Teyne, however, sensed something awry with the easily-told story, but she couldn\'t pinpoint what it was.  Her guess was that his boast about how much money he\'d spent was inaccurate but whether he\'d stolen the necklace or merely \'borrowed\' it so that he could sneak it back at a later date she couldn\'t be sure.  If either of those choices were true, the punishment and potential danger Jebeddo faced in returning the necklace was far greater than what he\'d faced here or that she and Eilzair could be bothered dishing up.  He\'d given them a little distraction for the evening, after all, she wouldn\'t hold a grudge.

"The caretaker that hired us to come down here and see what was making the noise over the past couple of nights won\'t be impressed with this story - was it all you?  Have you come down here before tonight?" she demanded of the gnome.

His indignance swayed as he cast a sheepish look at Teyne, instead of attempting to stare Eilzair into giving up his bauble.  "Uh... w-well... y-yes," he answered, blushing.  "Nothing terrible happened the last three times.  Just one skeleton a night, that stayed down here until I came back.  I... uh," he paused to scratch his head as he now looked from the female to the male and back again, cringeing when he felt no hair where there should have been (even though Teyne had healed his burn wounds, a look of pain certainly crossed his features), "I\'m not sure what I did differently tonight."  This admission, awkward as it was, seemed to provide him ammunition for appealing to Eilzair once more.  "That\'s why I need it back, to figure out how to use it.  It is mine, you know!"

Teyne\'s gaze shifted up to Eilzair as well, taking in his domineering pose but not saying anything to sway his decision.  The way he was lording his extra height over the troublesome gnome bothered her on a level she didn\'t wish to explore right now, but it was filed away for later examination.  For now, she watched her handsome companion and held her tongue as the feeling of apprehension sifted through her.

[Kysis]

There was a shiver in his back, one Eilzair knew well and also knew he had to resist.  Giving in now could be catastrophic, for the gnome’s already frazzled nerves and for them.  Eilzair did not know the exact span of the ruins the cult took residence in, did not know how far they could sense.  He had to repress that shiver in his shoulders, that crawling beneath his skin.  It felt like it wanted to take over.  Now was not the time.

Eilzair thought about giving the amulet about, as he had been thinking about it all along.  Something dark flickered across his eyes, while at the same time his human side begged for caution.

“If you do not know what you did wrong, what says you won’t make the same mistake again?” His voice came out as another low purr, eyes flaring brighter for a moment.  That seething sensation in him intensified, Eilzair fighting silently to get control of the reins again.  It was a loosing battle, quickly spiraling downward. “Can we trust you to experiment with a more experienced supervisor next time, to be sure you do not awaken the whole crypt next time?”

One thing he knew for certain: he needed to get out of there quickly.  Though he could vaguely see in the dark, it felt stifling.  The crypt felt like a cage.  Perhaps it was being underground.  Perhaps it was the fact that he could not unfurl his wings here, could not spread them and fly.  That had to be it.  It was much like the dreams, nightmares, he had suffered while being held by the cult, dreams of flying, of being unable to fly.

The energy, that constant aura about Eilzair, it was quivering, unstable.  He needed the gnome to hurry up and answer.

[Existentially Odd]

The gnome actually looked as if he was going to argue the point about needing a supervisor, but the brightening of Eilzair\'s eyes and the energy picking up around him was palpable and warned him against such stupidity (thankfully, before he\'d even opened his mouth).

"I will be more careful next time," Jebeddo promised solemnly, watching the redheaded male with a mixture of uncertainty and determined piety warring across his features.

Teyne\'s gaze was also glued to Eilzair, though she was frowning slightly and looking around him as much as she was looking at him.  She fully expected his wings to erupt at any moment, despite the limited space in the crypt.  He was as fascinating as he was terrifying at times and she was simply glad she wasn\'t the object of his focus just then.

[Kysis]

That was not the answer he was looking for, but Eilzair could not wait any longer.  His shoulders tensed, but he kept his wings in check for the moment.  How long he could do this, Eilzair did not know.  He had to act fast.  In a blur, Eilzair lowered the amulet, letting go of it when it was right above the gnome’s head.  For a second he considered saying something more.

He couldn’t.  Breaths slightly ragged, Eilzair turned, calling forth a ball of light as he headed back out of the crypts.  As soon as he was out of their sight, Eilzair jogged, hurrying out of the crypt.  The gravekeeper looked started, but Eilzair managed to rattle off a quick explanation, hardly enough to work before hurrying out of the graveyard, into the near forest.

The moment he was in the trees, his wings came free, glistening and red.  Eilzair stumbled at first, that sudden change in weight setting him off balance.  He stretched, wings fanning out, taking in the air, shivering.  That burning in his blood settled some.  His draconic side did not like being ignored.  In fact, it absolutely refused.  That would make things troublesome.

Flapping his wings, Eilzair carried himself upward a bit, until he found a suitable perch and sat, up in a tree.  There he could let his wings be out while not in the general line of sight.  Eilzair did not want to be spotted, though his energy probably gave him away.  He leaned against the tree, closing his eyes for a moment.  That had been dangerously close, but he felt better now.