The forest was wet, cold, and all around miserable. The trees overhead hung heavily under the weight of the rain that poured mercilessly, but Robin soldiered through the heavy fall to search for those plants and herbs Ssaliist has requested. It was harder to see them with the dark storm clouds blocking out the sun, but, the little pouch he carried at his side was steadily filling with the plants. He just hoped they weren't all ruined from all the water. As he picked a path through the wet forest, his boot caught on an overgrown root that he hadn't seen and he tripped forward, diving through thick brush and tumbling down a muddy slope into a large puddle of water with a splash. He coughed, wiping the dirty water off of his face as he sat up, blinking the wetness from his eyes. Ahead of him was a dark opening, a burrow in the earth just large enough for him to slip through. Curiously, he rose to his feet and stumbled forward, peering through the gloom. It wasn't a natural opening, the walls were too round and smooth, and so he wondered what sort of creature might make such a hole in the ground. It had to be huge.

He walked on for nearly twenty minutes before the tunnel opened into a single, round underground chamber with a low ceiling. He stepped forward, peering through the gloom at the speck of light that was a flickering candle across from him, set upon a stone altar decorated with a strange pentacle, what appeared to be human bones, and a bow with fresh blood and petals of a flower floating in the red ichors. "The hell?" he asked, stepping closer to the altar to peer down at it. There was a small, leather bound black book beside the bowl. Robin reached down to open it, the pages felt brittle beneath his fingertips, fragile, like they might fade to dust at the slightest touch. Words scribbled in black ink covered the pages, faded by the passage of time. He frowned, squinting to try and read them by the dim candle light.

"Baal," he whispered aloud, shivering at the sound of that name and the unpleasant sensation that filled the air. He snapped the book shut afterwards, turning to glance over his shoulder at the sound of movement. The book was taken, tucked into that same pouch with the herbs as he stepped back and turned to duck beneath a large collection of boulders and rocks that dominated the corner of the strange chamber. He peered over the stony surface of his hiding spot, seeing a light at the end of the tunnel slowly grow brighter. Then a figure appeared, it wore dark robes, holding a bright torch in one hand while the other held the walking stick that the figure leaned on heavily with each passing step.

He was whispering, and at first, Robin thought that he might be talking to himself. But then he saw what entered afterwards. There was another figure who entered behind him. This one was obviously a male, he was broad shouldered, stooping under the shallow roof of the chamber. When he spoke, his voice was louder than his predecessor's and chilled Robin to his bones.

"Someone has been here," the words were cold, sounding dispassionate, separated from the sound a living man might make. They were forced, artificial. "He is still here."