"Cheerful place," Mesteno remarked dryly, head tipped to peer up towards the city partially hidden by the cloud cover.

He'd a mind to get up there some day, if only to see what the view was like from the top, maybe rile the locals and see how much he could get away with, but his mind was firmly set on their task for the moment, and every sly sweep of wolf's gold eyes was measuring this place they'd emerged in. It paid to be cautious, when there were so many bars upon the windows.

He felt somewhat uncertain that things had gone right when, on emerging, things weren't nearly as different feeling as he'd imagined they might be. The gravity pulled at him in no ways other than the usual, the colours did not seem more vivid, the air... well it left something to be desired, but enter any industrial part of RhyDin and a man might find a parity.

"At least they don't seem bothered by us being here. Not like anyone's running off to report an arrival. Maybe the opposition isn't monitoring us all that closely."

Lexius pulled off his gloves and turned his gaze back to the city.

"The Lady does not allow the Powers into Sigil. Their Proxies, however, abound. Still, there are thousands of Doors here and no way to truly know where we might appear. The Doors on this side tend to move. We're currently in the Clerks Ward." It explained the uniform feel to the place. Government buildings! "The last I used this portal, it emptied out into the Lower Ward. Come."

Stepping off down the neatly swept cobblestone street like he knew where he was going, he led the Sadist across a small square where a fountain depicting a valiant looking horned creature burbled happily.

"Which means if we happen to get separated,? Mesteno remarked, ?and I'm stuck finding my own way back, I shouldn't just expect there to be a way out where we came in." Clerks Ward, Lower Ward - his sense of direction was terrible in territory not his own, and in a city it was even worse. He seemed to have better luck identifying natural landmarks than structures created by the hands of sentient beings, where one might look too similar to another to be trusted.

"If we get separated," Lexius replied grimly, "you will find your way to the Flapping Dove inn. Brill will see to it you get back to RhyDin." That place and that person were, in fact, where they were currently headed.

Much like RhyDin, the citizenry of Sigil was diverse. Scaled demons and bat-winged devils were as likely to be seen (but never together without much snarling and glaring!) as regular looking humans. The human population was a real minority here. All those who seemed so had something a little bit extra that marked them, and Lexius helpfully murmured the names of the races as they went along, a welcome distraction for the necromancer. It helped to diffuse some of his apathy, and at times he almost ceased to scowl.

Here a woman with tiny little horns jutting out of her hair (a tiefling), there a man with broad, pale wings sprouting out of its back (a deva) and more besides. The strangest might be the cloaked, gaunt looking humanoids (dabus) that seemed to not quite walk, yet not quite float along the city streets, projecting images into the air near their heads. There was a pale clerk conversing with one on a street corner, the clerk talking aloud and the Dabu answering with those projected images. There were few to no horses to be seen. People either travelled afoot or were carried in sedan chairs.

Lexius didn't stroll, but took them at a decent clip along the streets until the buildings began to look more like businesses. Mesteno kept abreast of him, untroubled by the weight of his armour.

"Tell me about this Lady who has enough power to deny the Powers into Sigil," he prompted. "She lives up there, right?" He angled a nod towards the cloud city, though Lexius was too busy watching their route to see it. "Are they scared of her, or just respectful of her rule?"

The Elf paused just outside what appeared to be a restaurant. The sign on the window advertised fresh Styx Eels (fried in goat butter) for just five silver each! Lexius turned and pointed back the way they had come.

"She lives back there in fact. The entire city is a circle. What you see up there," he pointed to the roofs of the buildings that made up the sky, "is simply more of Sigil. The city is built on the interior of the ring. But the streets and the buildings tend to change as easily as the locations of the Doors in some places. The Dabus are constantly rebuilding." He looked back to Mesteno as he continued. "And the Lady's origins and nature are unknown. What is known, however, is that she has absolute authority over Sigil. What she wants to happen here happens, and what she does not, does not."

The Elf continued on then, leading Mesteno into the next part of the city.

"What could be more powerful than... well the Powers?" the necromancer asked lowly, hoping that some roaming Dabu, or elitist native wouldn't overhear him.

"In this place, the Lady." Was Lexius' succinct answer. A more protracted discussion of the woman in question was best saved for another time, when they weren't in her city and under her power! Lexius didn't sound particularly awed by her, but neither did he seem too interested in unravelling the mystery. No one knew if her power would extend beyond the city because, as far as anyone did know, she never left it. Whatever she was, it was foolish to probe too deeply at her secrets. Anyone who did tended to simply disappear.

The Market Ward of Sigil was impressive. Gone were the official buildings of the government, replaced by inns, shops and stalls aplenty. It seemed everything was for sale here, from food to weapons, from potions to pets. Things Mesteno recognized and things beyond bizarre. Snatches of conversations drifted their way as Lexius guided them through the motley crowd. And though they spoke common, the slang was far, far different. Almost a foreign language. Words like cutter, berk and jink and dark were used in ways not easily identifying their meaning unless one listened close.

Up ahead, the Elf was angling for an inn that had the picture of a giant grey dove flapping its way through a cloud filled sky. Climbing the steps, Lexius stepped into the inn without hesitation and settled his gaze immediately on the creature tending the bar. A centaur.

The Dove's main room was open, broad and inviting, littered with an assortment of people and creatures matching those on the street. No one paid them any undue interest, though the centaur behind the bar did lift one meaty hand and grin toothily at Lexius as they approached the bar.

"Hey, Cutter." The centaur greeted. "Good t'see they ain?t written your name in the dead book yet. You playing tout to a Clueless?" He was looking at Mesteno when he said that last. There was no particular hostility in his tone of voice. More curiosity and a little surprise than anything else.

The centaur wore a leather harness over his muscled chest and shoulders with a pair of daggers tucked into sheaths along it. Long, dark hair was half braided down his back and some sort of pack slung across his equine withers. Obviously, there was plenty of room behind that bar for him to move around and his hooves clopped hollowly on the stone as he did.

"Brill." Lexius greeted with his usual reserve. "No. This is Mesteno. Mesteno, this is Brill."

Mesteno had been about to offer a retort when Lexius cut in sounding quite the native. It was all he could do to keep from staring at slack-jawed and giving away just how new he was to Sigil. Not wanting to seem entirely useless, he let his expression fall somewhere between blankly unimpressed and storm-cloud surly. Let the dwarf think he was the kind of grim-faced 'Basher' who could handle himself, and maybe he'd be less inclined to stiff them.

Dressed like he was, putting on that surly face, added an extra note of credibility to the Elf and the story of mapping the tunnels Grizzle had been fed. Maybe they were serious about getting this job done, after all, and not just some crazy idiots out to waste his precious time and knowledge. And that pouch looked weighty.

Lexius upped the ante (it seemed) by drawing out a small, gold pin from behind his belt. It looked kind of like a winged serpent curled in a circle as if eating its tail. He showed it to the dwarf then hefted the pouch again, head canting expectantly.

Before the dwarf could say anything, Tishina showed up with the bub (drinks!) to further grease the wheels of the negotiation. She did knock once on the door to announce her presence but just came strolling right on in with that tail waving behind her. Oh yeah, absolutely some demonic influence there.

"Here ya go, cutters. Finest ale in the Cage."

She plunked down three mugs on the table, heedless of their relative position in the room, then went sashaying back toward the door, he gleaming green eyes giving Mesteno another once-over as she passed.

"You just let me know you need anything else." She told Mesteno. Pretty smile, pointed teeth, and she was gone, her tail waving bye-bye to him as she went.

Mesteno had a way with women. In that he never quite seemed sure how to handle them if they were deliberately flirtatious; Tishina's attention left him scowling darkly, but that suited him just fine since he was supposed to be playing the surly side-kick to Lexius' intrepid explorer-mapper. He sat down in silence, avoidant of consuming too much of what they'd been served just in case it was something uncommonly strong that might somehow seep insidiously past his usual remarkable tolerances.

Grizzle was already guzzling down a mug. He slammed that one down too, belched hearty satisfaction than gave them a snaggle toothed grin. "I ain?t out to peel a fellow Indep. Hand that milk on over and we can get started."

Once Lexius had flashed that pin and Tishina had brought the drinks, Grizzle became a much more cooperative dwarf. Not that he was friendly, precisely, but at least he stopped blustering about them being idiots for not only wanting to go to Nidavellir, but also wanting to map it. He only made once more disparaging comment on the futility of trying to record the ever changeable tunnel system, but it seemed it was more to boast his own credibility and value than any attempt to dissuade them or try to get out of the deal.

He concluded with a "Who'm I to try and convince some barmy, pointy-eared mage otherwise?"

Lexius hadn't bothered to correct him on his assumption.

Once they'd gone over the details of the arrangement, the Elf had produced a copy of one of the runes they'd been given, the image of it drawn onto a piece of old parchment. Grizzle squinted and snorted and guzzled more ale, but admitted there might be something like the drawing in some of the older tunnel systems. Nowadays, the run magic was much more sophisticated and stylish. But it was a place to start, and start they did.

From the Flapping Dove the dwarf had finally led them back into the Market Ward and across the bustling commerce section to the next district over. The streets were seedier there, the inhabitants rougher yet, but only a few gave them anything more than a glance before deciding they weren't worth the effort of trying to roll on a public street.

Mesteno followed the pair out of the inn playing rear-guard to his companions. He intended to keep Grizzle ahead of him at all times, and it let him peer backward from time to time without their guide spotting him at it and wondering what might have him so paranoid.

The Door they needed to go through proved to be a dwarf sized window frame in the side of a building. Without any warning at all, Grizzle threw a stone dagger at the glass....and the window transformed into a swirling portal that he clambered through without delay, the Elf crouching through right behind him.

Mesteno paused for a final glance at Sigil, suspecting his brief visit might be his only visit, and then followed the pair into Nidavellir.

Nothing really looked particularly odd about their selected tunnel aside from the total lack of life in the rune The mouth of it did seem slanted and cracked by the pressure of the earth to either side, but it was an easy fit for any of them to head down that dusty stretch of corridor that seemed to go on for miles. No other branches led off from the tunnel they travelled, but the earth did seem to rumble and groan here a little more than they'd experienced before. Enough, at least, to have their guide break off his grumbling and eye the walls warily.

Mesteno wasn't oblivious to them either?

The little earth shakes here, I'm having trouble deciding whether its more likely to be as a result of the magic used to seal off the prisoner, or whether it's a trick to try and deter anyone from roaming around down here. To Lexius? mind came the commentary! Seems too coincidental to be natural. Can you sense anything either way?

The Elf answered in a thoughtful tone, with the ghost of a thoughtful feeling.

Nidavellir is made up of several thousand floating tons of earth crammed together so tightly they form these tunnels we are walking. The push and grind of all that earth causes the tremors and the reshaping of the tunnels. A natural explanation then. As natural as such a place could be, anyway. Still, it does seem more...active than usual.

At long last, they finally came to a dead end, the tunnel ahead completely blocked by a bulging boulder that seemed to have fallen out of the roof to impede the way. Grizzle gestured at it in the dim, dim glow of the lichen light and sneered out a comment. "Like da -guide- said. Blocked."

The Elf frowned and the beads murmured.

Mesteno stepped past the dwarf, and reached out a hand to touch the boulder, just to see if it was illusion or had true substance. He slanted a bright-eyed look over at the Elf. Well?

Lexius was probing with other senses into the stone as Mesteno stepped forward to test it. This proved to be a very, very bad idea. Grizzle was working up another split when the Elf looked sharply Mesteno's way. He only had time to bite out "Mes--" before the boulder the Sadist was touching came to life.

It unrolled from the bottom up and a viciously hooked claw came swiping out from underneath where the creature it actually was had curled around itself into a ball. Grizzle choked on his spit. The cave walls trembled violently. And something yanked at Mesteno's pack, tugging him backwards even as a second horrible claw joined the first, swinging from the opposite direction.

"Sanctus fut--," whatever the second word might have been, it wasn't going to get said, because Mesteno was staggering backwards, lucky enough to keep from overbalancing and landing on his back despite the abruptness of it.

The claw Lexius? psionic tug had saved him from clanged into the wall where the necromancer had been standing, the rock crumbling away, while the other swept toward Grizzle, necessitating some swift ducking from the bellowing dwarf.

But now that the creature was uncoiled, a being of squat, barely-there legs and long, segmented arms ending in the vicious hooks it was swinging about. A flat, broad head with four beady little eyes rested directly on the main body of the beast, just above the gaping maw of a mouth filled with rows of stone chomping teeth.

The tunnel was narrow, not suitable for close quarters combat with a scimitar, so the first thing Mesteno reached for was his suppressor equipped Colt. He squeezed off some nasty little glaser rounds that punched into the thinner armour in the beast?s abdomen.

Grizzle freed his axe from the loop in his belt then went charging forward like a demented berserker, swinging for the creature's belly and causing Mesteno to cease fire in order to avoid hitting the dwarf.

The creature to start leaking thick, gritty streams of brown blood.

Drawing its hooked arms back in, it seemed like it was about to give the incoming dwarf a hug and roll up on itself all over again. But before it could complete that action, Grizzle buried his axe into its belly and sections of the crumbled stone wall lifted up and went -slamming- into the creatures head, causing it to reel back rather than rolling forward.

Wait...was that the scent of violets in the air? Weird.

Mesteno kept the gun levelled, a good, two-handed grasp to steady it. That Colt was made for putting big holes in things, and had a predictably impressive recoil as a result. He was just beginning to wonder if he dared take a shot at those beady little eyes despite the miniscule target they presented, when the axe sank into the beast's gut, and whom he could only assume was Lexius, was borrowing bits of the rock as missiles to send it keeling over backwards.

Instead of firing again, the necromancer loosed his own energies, and where the foul, brown fluid was leaking through the compromised armour, he afflicted it with foul rot. Its shell began to drop away, leaving the creature issuing a grating howl.

Lexius was about to very calmly advise Mesteno to shoot the creature in the head (that was well above the dwarf now!) or even the mouth, sure that the Sadist was capable enough with the weapon (or just not caring about it!) to avoid hitting Grizzle. But before he could speak (again!) the tunnel gave a sudden, violent shudder when the Rock Monster flailed both arms out and to the sides, slamming them into the walls as if to catch its balance, and a section of the ceiling collapsed right on top of the Elf.

"Lexius!" Mesteno barely enough time to start towards the Elf when he saw the rock beginning to collapse, and an outstretched arm and the back of a hand not quite quick enough to grab him and haul him away ended up receiving a battering before he managed to back up.

There came a ghost of pain shimmering along the link, accompanied by a mental growl. The scent of violets abruptly disappeared and the few stones that had been lifting up from the ground to be used as further projectiles dropped right back to the floor of the tunnel to bounce and roll with the shimmying of the earth.

The mental link snapped sharply, right on the heels of the Elf?s growl, leaving Mesteno suffering a sharp stab of horror at the implications.

For the first time in weeks Mesteno was smiling, and not a forced thing, either. It was a broad show of bright, even teeth with just a dash of savage to it.

"Are you hurt? I felt you hurt. What's broke?" He even sniffed, to see if he could catch the scent of blood.

Of course, given how that dwarf was carrying on behind him (and where they were!), the Elf supposed relief was warranted. Really, it was the smile that threw him the most.

"I am well." The beads gave an irate little click of sound, but he ignored them as easily as he did Grizzle who was finally winding down his colorful cursing. He supposed he could stomach half a mountain falling on him if it put the Sadist in a better mood! The smile seemed to suggest he might be. "I am well." He said again, more quietly, a confirming nod and a faint smile of his own given in return. Probably because Mesteno was sniffing at him. There was blood, dried and matted with dirt and hair somewhere on his head, but whatever wound had caused it had been closed. "Nothing is broken."

Anymore was the thing he left unsaid. He touched Mesteno's elbow lightly with dirt crusted fingers then turned to study the dwarf.

Those traitorous beads told the truth of it. Mesteno suspected that 'I am well' translated roughly to 'I'm sore as fuck but functional', but given that he'd have continued in similar conditions, he couldn't go chastising him for the deliberate attempt to assuage concerns. His hand eased away with the touch to his elbow, but he didn't apologise for the violation of personal boundaries. It had been thoughtless, true, but the impulse had been born of relief. As for the smile, it was understandably short lived. It gave way to a narrow-eyed look that fixed on the Elf's dusty hair. He could smell with startling accuracy where the injury had been, and those keen eyes could see the matted blood even in the gloom of the tunnel.

"Need to keep an eye on you. Head wounds, concussion..." He was sure he need say no more. He'd be observing him whether Lexius wanted it or not.

Grizzle was back on his feet, huffing out a few more breaths. "We all done with da soddin' reunion den?" He asked with a glower of his own, beads sticking out in every direction. Dwarves really could glower better than elves any day! "Cause now ya soddin' gets got us stuck someplace, don't know nothin' 'bout!"

Lucky for the Elf, Grizzle's interruption was adequate distraction to draw Mesteno's attention back to him. Yeah, no need to ask how he was holding up. He looked in comical disarray, but whole.

"Look on the bright side, you get bragging rights," he suggested blithely, "and stories to embellish f'your friends at the inn when we get back. Now let's go see what that light ahead is. Where's your sense of adventure?" He wasn't as insouciant as he sounded though, nor was he truly expecting a good outcome. He just needed Grizzle to keep his damn head for as long as possible if they were going to make it out alive!

What might have turned into another full blown dwarven tirade was effectively derailed when Mesteno mentioned bragging rights. Well, then. Since the man put it that way! Grizzle huffed again, grumbled caustically in his own language than pointed the business end of his bloodied axe at the pair of them.

"Ya barmy berks stay behind me!" He ordered. Then he went stomping down the tunnel toward the light, as if he really did know the way and was the best equipped to deal with whatever future troubles might crop up. "And I'll be bobbin' up the amount of milk ya owe me for dis barkle!"

Mesteno suspected that whatever stories Grizzle told would see himself and Lexius much reduced in bravery and usefulness, but given the likelihood he'd never meet the dwarf's audience, it didn't particularly rankle. He lapsed back into the taciturn warrior act he'd been attempting to perfect before he'd proven himself capable of talking, and with a sly glance at Lexius to assure him he'd be keeping an eye on him whether he held back a few steps or walked alongside, he strode off after the dwarf.

The Elf fell into step easily enough, his tread as silent as ever after a swift rush of air that cleaned most of the remaining dirt off his clothing. That little pool he left behind actually began to burn as they headed on down to the tunnel.

What was that thing? Mesteno asked Lexius as they walked, never letting Grizzle get too far ahead. It can't have been there by coincidence. And you notice how there's no more quaking? He refused to believe he was simply too suspicious. Being suspicious had saved his skin on numerous occasions!

Lexius quickly picked up on the thoughts Mesteno was projecting his way. He dipped a single tendril down and re-established the tie, careful to make it voice only!

A rock elemental of some sort. He hadn't had time to do a detailed analysis! They tend to mimic stone perfectly until they decide to become more active. And the placement of it is suspicious.

The tremors had stopped, at least. Everything might seem a little too still, in fact, after such a violet and lengthy upheaval. The quiet was deep, almost ominous, broken only by their breathing and the occasional low mutter from the dwarf. The light ahead wasn't terribly bright even as they got closer. The cause of it became apparent just a few minutes later when the tunnel they were walking led them right into the center of an enormous geode.

They walked out of the rough stone passage and into the center of a massive cavern where the walls, ceiling and much of the floor was covered in crystals ranging from pale pink to the deepest amethyst. And right smack dab ahead of them grew a forest of actual trees amongst it all. Somewhere distant was the sound of water.

Grizzle had stopped just beyond the tunnel mouth as was now glaring at the suspicious sight. When Mesteno and Lexius finally joined him, he pointed his axe up and to the right where holes pockmarked the geode's outer wall at various heights. "More tunnels. Dey might be marked."

Mesteno was staring, like some soft-witted simpleton a dwarf could really paint vividly in his tavern tales.

"How the hell did a woodland start growing down here? And the light... what's making the light? How do they grow without sunlight?" He couldn't help it. Inquisitive beat his reticent act effortlessly. The Elf might need to steer his mind back to the task at hand!

The beads snickered at Lexius? side, but he spoke over them to address the questions.

"This is not uncommon here." he assured even as Grizzle spun to give Mesteno a disgusted look.

"Soddin' Clueless!" He declared scornfully. "Is bleck all ya got in dat idea-pot?!" And it was warmer in that cavern than it had been in the tunnel. Grizzle was about to go on when Lexius shot him a harsh look and cut the air near his waist with one hand.

"I paid jink for a tout, not a mouthy biter." The dwarf sucked in a quick breath, his eyes practically bulging out of his head. Apparently, whatever Lexius said, it was an insult! But the Elf went right on without giving the dwarf time to explode. "Stop flapping your bone-box and catch a skeg of the path or they'll be no more milk at all."

Grizzle ground his jaw then twirled to go stomping off toward the forest, muttering to himself and cleaving the points of crystal rocks with his axe.

Lexius watched after him, eyes still narrowed and a little too bright.

It worked so well, so swiftly, he was almost overwhelmed by the sheer amount of information he suddenly had access to. Hundreds of thousands of insects had died in and around the pool. As had some strange sort of...frog men type creatures. Traces of bones lingered deep in the spots between the crystals at the bottom on the pool and he sensed every single creature they'd belonged to. Fish, humanoids, creatures both strange and mundane, killed through natural means and less than natural. No less than ten humanoid adventurers had died in this place, Planar and Prime both.

He stepped back towards the edge of the pool to get a better look at the blade.

It didn't look particularly worthy of note cost wise, but the fact that it still gleamed and hadn't corroded suggested the metal was of remarkable quality, or that it hadn't mean down there long... he decided to fish it out. Only not with his hands. The shadows oozed down under the water, stretching long until they could curl beneath it and flick it out with a small-scale splash... and right to his waiting palm.

Retracted sharply from the bug deaths, he held the blade carefully, despite the gloves, suspicious of something corrosive in the pool that'd kept the blade shiny. He sniffed that with far more care than he'd sniffed Lexius earlier, examined the leather shielding his hands to see if anything was eating through, then deciding otherwise, slid the blade under his belt for safe-keeping. There was something off about their current location, even if it was fascinating, and he decided not to waste more time before ascending after the others.

There was a lengthy pause. Perhaps the Elf was concentrating on his climbing. No, he really didn't need to concentrate on such a thing, even when he was wounded. Was that a...chuckle? Mental chuckles were certainly strange.

Remind me to bash you later. Apparently, Mesteno had said something that lightened his mood enough to make a quip! The necromancer was pleased.

He could see from where he was, halfway up the wall already, what Mesteno had been up to. He paused there to watch, gaze panning across the cavern and some thought tendrils sent skating out over the Sadist's head toward the forest.

Grizzle had made the cave above them and was calling out as he stepped further into the gloom beyond the entrance. He'd lost his little lantern of lichen somewhere along the way. "It aint blocked!" Then suddenly... there came a rumbling.

Mesteno had pulled himself up barely half a man's body length when Grizzle's voice came spilling from the cave entrance above them - the rumbling though...

"Oh shit, not another quake..." Only he wasn't sure. "Go! Go!" He commanded (hah!) the Elf, who was probably already doing so anyway. He didn't want to stay out there in case those crystals in the roof started dropping on their heads! Himself, he was stretching and launching himself up as fast as he could.

Looking up sharply, the Elf hissed a breath between his teeth as he stretched long for the next handhold, needing no prompting at all. Two seconds later, the rumbling sound resolved into hoof beats and Grizzle barely had time to roar once before the dwarf came flying right back out of tunnel entrance and through the air, seemingly carried on a cloud of thick, grey steam.

The dwarf's roar cut off abruptly. Frozen in a charging stance with his axe brandished high above him, flesh and clothing turned grey and hard as he sailed high above the pool... then dropped like the stone he'd been turned into.

Stop! Came the Elf's voice. As if Mesteno might not do so on his own. He did expend some energy on poor Grizzle, too, trying to catch his statue body with the strength of his thoughts before he shattered on the crystals below.

Above them came a snorting and thumping sound. Something big pawing at the ground, and a quick glimpse of curved horns just poking out of the tunnel entrance.

Had Grizzle been alive to see Mesteno just then, he'd probably have been mocking him for being somewhat slack-jawed, because he was undoubtedly that. He really hadn't needed Lexius' mental command to slow him, to stop him inevitably. Now, the remains of the dwarf unrecognisable, he slowly craned his neck to peer back up towards where the cave's guardian was waiting, a sentinel unaware that more intruders were mere feet below it.

You know what that is? His own voice was quiet mentally, as if he felt the need to whisper instinctively, the way Lexius had murmured earlier. You know how to kill it? That was the important bit.

The Elf had plastered himself to a narrow space between the crystals, heedless of the way they were digging into body. He had stilled in that stretched position, mid-climb, when his thoughts had detected the beast above. It hadn't been there one moment. Then suddenly it had. It had taken no more than five seconds for it to appear and transform the dwarf before knocking him out of the tunnel.

He pulled those thoughts back quickly and wrapped them around Mesteno and himself instead, twisting them in a new way that buffered the air around their positions. Just in case more of that steam came creeping down the wall.

Gaze canted up, he caught sight of the tips of those horns before they retreated slowly back into the tunnel, the creature they belonged to backing up step by stomping step. It shook the wall a little, but not with the same rumbling thunder its charge had caused.

Lexius? answer to the Sadist was equally soft. Gorgon. He finally supplied. They were named after those from the Greek myths. He sent a mental image of the creature to Mesteno. A massive, hulking, onyx bull with burning red eyes and clouds of steam snorting from its nostrils. Steam that turned anything living to stone. It wasn't a live shot, thankfully, but seemed more a drawing he remembered from a book.
On the bright side, that must mean they were on the right track! Let it withdraw. Be still. So still.

Mesteno hadn't known Grizzle nearly well enough to mourn him, but he did him the courtesy of not feeling outward for the severed soul. The loss of him made the challenge they faced rather more overwhelming. They were going to stumble from tunnel to tunnel aimlessly for Gods only knew how long.

He?d managed to find secure enough handholds and places to wedge the toes of his boots so that he wasn't in imminent danger of falling, but his pack dragged at his shoulders, demanding a constant effort to counterbalance its weight. The damned Gorgon couldn't retreat fast enough for his tastes! As for Lexius instruction that he be still, he did succeed in that, though his eyes slipped from the cave mouth to where the Elf had managed to wedge himself, perhaps ten feet higher.

You can keep the steam from touching us when we get up there, he thought across the mental link, plotting rather than expecting Lexius to provide a plan of attack. He'd noticed how the steam which did drift down hadn't reached beyond a certain point, but he also knew that if Lexius could stir up the air the way he'd seen with the Furies, he could maybe send it flowing in the wrong direction too. We should be able to take it out so long as we can get to the top without being noticed. There aren't enough shadows here for me to slip through into the opening - think you can transport us up somehow?

The stomping steps of the Gorgon's withdrawal continued for several seconds and then the beast stopped and started pawing the tunnel floor again, snorting from time to time. It had backed up, but it was not going away. As if it knew they were there and was simply waiting, winding up for another deadly charge.

Mesteno only got a moment to view the carnage below.

Lexius reached up with his thoughts and, without a speck of warning, snatched him from the mouth of the tunnel. It wasn't a teleport, though. No, he brought Mesteno...flying (more like a controlled descent!) through the air to his position, heedless of the fact the man might shoot him for his temerity or just for the sheer surprise of the move.

Though the unwitting necromancer reached desperately for the wall to try and latch tenaciously, he only succeeded in scuffing the leather of his gloves at the fingertips before he was in the air and descending, with not a great deal of choice in the matter. The height didn't bother him - he had over the years had occasion to be up in the air, or falling through it - but that didn't stop him cursing up a predictable storm before his feet touched down.

Was Lexius smiling? Surely not. Those beads around his waist were certainly snickering, though!

"Turn around." That once he'd set the Sadist back on his feet (light as a feather!)

"Ass!" Mesteno accused him, shoving his gun back into the holster strapped to one leanly muscled thigh and aiming a half-hearted shove at his shoulder, holding back only because of the pained response he'd got earlier when he'd clasped him there. "Just couldn't resist, could you?" Oh, and yes that was a glare he aimed at those beads for their mockery. He heard them!

As for the demand that he turn around... "You know asking a man to turn his back after you puppet him around would normally get you laughed at," he informed him, but he suspected Lexius had reasons for asking it, so he complied, with some more minor grumbles.

Once again, Mesteno's touch was neither buffered nor deflected from making contact. The Elf gave a low grunt for the shoving, as much as he would relent to any discomfort the move might have caused, and refused to look even a little bit chastised for his actions. But it least his smile didn't slip into a grin. Instead, Lexius arranged his expression back into its usual calm and serene lines even as the beads gave one last titter of sound before falling silent.

"I wasn't puppeteering you." The Elf answered reasonably as he stepped close to Mesteno's back and hovered a palm over the recovered dagger without actually touching it with more than some carefully controlled tendrils of thought. "You could have flapped your arms about if you wished."

"Maybe squawked for added effect?" Mesteno asked, amused at Lexius uncharacteristic jocularity even if his pride was still recovering from what he would continue to consider puppetry, simply because he was a contrary bastard.

The blade kept silent despite whatever tampering Lexius was doing.

"Hmmm. Your new toy has an imp in it." He finally determined, a note of distaste in his usually tranquil voice. He pulled his hand and his thoughts back rather quickly.

And that was when the dagger finally decided to speak again.

"He's going to leave you in these tunnels alone!" The dagger told Mesteno. "Or let something kill you next time. He doesn't care if you live or die!" Apparently, the dagger was trying to initiate a fight!

"An imp!? How the Hell does an imp get bound to a blade?" This Mesteno asked as he yanked the offending piece of weaponry from his belt, glowering darkly at it as if he expected to see its reflection hopping about in the gleaming metal.

Turning to face Lexius, the blade between them, he did consider throwing it immediately back into the water where he'd found it (he was suspecting now that some other adventurer had done just that!) but he reconsidered acting on instinct, even if only to ask, "You think it'll be any use, or just a hindrance, 'cause I don't mind bein' smart-mouthed by dwarves we pay, but I'm not about to listen to some little imp shit yap-yappin' for the rest of this trip."

"He's an elf!" The blade insisted. "You can't trust elves!" There was no visual evidence of the Imp that obviously resided inside the weapon. Mesteno was not wrong in his thought that someone had simply thrown the dagger away rather than dealing with the possession.

Lexius met Mesteno's gaze when the man turned back, his own a little intent for a moment. Like he might be searching for any trace of doubt the blade might have already inspired. "The squawking would have been a nice touch." He murmured...almost slyly. Funny that he chose to address that first before anything else. His gaze dropped to the blade then, demeanor settling as he explained.

"Chaos imps. They are native to Limbo. Not evil, merely chaotic." Of course, to the Elf, chaotic was a couple steps worse than evil. But he remained as neutral as possible in the explanation, as if to not unduly influence Mesteno's decision. "Infesting an object is their only way off the Plane. If we fashion a sheath for it, it may well silence the...yap. And the weapon itself is quite fine." A very nice magical item on its own, if they could just get the imp out of it.

"He lies!" The dagger accused. Then it fell suddenly silent. As if it sensed it might get thrown back into the pool where no one could help it get out of here!

"One of my oldest friends is an elf, and she's never once done anything to make me lose faith in her," he informed the blade, or imp, with conviction. "If you want to make me doubt him, you'll have to get a little more inventive than prejudice."

He was getting peered at by Lexius though, and after a moment he snorted, chin up-angled as if he finding the best way he could to look down his nose at him. You should know better, he chided, sounding somewhat disappointed. He knew why he was getting eyed! He deliberately offered the words mind to mind, just so the little shit in the dagger wouldn't have chance to comment on it. No matter how nicely forged the weapon was, he was in possession of far finer, and less troublesome specimens back at home, and was not so greedy as to think it an item worth selling to line his pockets.

Finally, instead of throwing it back in the pool, he simply set it on the nearest jumble of crystal where someone else could pick it up and enjoy the pleasure of its company. Or Lexius might think it worth taking.

"Now, are you gonna put me back up there or have I got to climb again?" Maybe he'd flap for him, if he was nice about it.

It didn't take Lexius long to finish the first tattoo. Palm sized and spidery in conformation, he lifted the crystal and watched it slither along the surface of his skin further up his arm leaving that patch of flesh clear. Only then did he look up to the Sadist, that vague smile fleeting across his lips.

Appetites aside, Mesteno had a healthy respect for personal space most of the time. It had been long years since he'd fastened his teeth on someone (questionably) unwilling, and even then he'd been half out of his wits and half bled out himself. Lexius was quite safe! The proximity was to fresh spilt blood was simply going to be a small challenge.

After cave-ins and gorgons, Mesteno wasn't daunted by it. Instead he seemed relieved to have something to discuss, to make it something he could learn about, and his brows pinched together as he saw just how much skin had been left bare of ink. "And even those couldn't get you out completely unscathed. When y'think that was just the start, and there's gonna be worse to come, maybe y'oughta start inking anywhere and everywhere just in case." He was only half joking.

"Be assured, I have many of them." Mesteno had only seen the ones on his arms! There were...quite a few more. But he was as concerned enough about the prospect the Sadist mentioned to be pouring his energy into replacing the ones he had lost. He was doing so right before he rested, though. And that would help him recoup some of the lost power.

The matter of Whisper and Ares knotted Mesteno?s frown more tightly. He slumped further back against the rock wall as he watched, each little bead of blood an unwelcome draw to his attention. "When you knew Whisper, you were dealing with the dragon you'd merged with then? Or at least when he knew of you," he corrected himself, since he'd already clarified that they'd never met.

Lexius nodded, gaze set back to watching the needle move. He'd crafted five of them altogether before he stopped. "At that point, I was more the dragon than myself. I visited Koyan once when I was in that state and left him unharmed. So perhaps he will recall that." Lexius was silent a moment, then asked a question of his own.

"How long were you two together?" He meant the unnamed man Mesteno had separated from, of course.

The necromancer had plenty of questions about those tattoos, and yet more he meant to barrage him with about what it had been like to co-habit one body with a dragon for company. He'd been about to fire off a slew of them in fact, keep Lexius talking while there was chance, only then he went and asked about what he'd been doing his damnedest to forget for the past however many weeks, and all those thoughts got knotted up.

He didn't say anything to begin with. It looked like he might've been going to remain that way too, but instead he turned his head and looked out, back to where he had a view of the geode they'd travelled through out of the cave opening.

"Three years 'n change," he told him, fingers palming the flask he'd drunk from as if they needed keeping busy. He couldn't have told him an exact date if his life had depended on it (he wasn't sentimental enough for first this 'n first that) but he knew it had been the summer, and he knew how many times the world had spun. That'd do. "How long were you with Koyan?" Countering! Or rather, deflecting attention back to where it should be.

Lexius was doing a poor job, indeed, of keeping Mesteno's spirits up when asking questions like that! And he knew it would be painful, knew it would bring to mind things the Sadist was trying to forget. Yet still he asked. Another tactic, perhaps, to help purge it from Mesteno's head a little before they reached that ultimate destination. He waited out the silence with his usual patience, already nearly finished with the third tattoo by the time the answer was given.

"Not as long." He'd already raked what little remained of his soul over the coals in front of Mesteno. The attention most certainly did not need to swing back to him! "I've come to the recent realization that I have been wrong in what I've been doing. Not so different, I think, than you." He glanced up briefly to pin Mesteno with a look, then dropped that glinting gaze back to his arm. He didn't know the details of their separation, but what he had heard prompted his assumption. "It will make us...better, don't you think? To not pine for something that cannot truly be?"

As ever, Mesteno was too innately expressive to guard his emotions, and though he did his damnedest, there was a quiet anguish in those often cruel and unwavering eyes, and a mouth far better suited to grim surliness or a hedonist's wicked grins had taken a skew that looked as if it wanted to be miserable, and was only kept from being so by deliberate effort. He was not looking Lexius' way when the Elf glanced up. He was busy staring (but blindly) at the crystalline world beyond their temporary refuge.

"Better? How better?" he sounded distant, rather than dismissive. "I don't even know what I'm doing, Lexius. Whenever I've ended things with people before it's because I knew deep down that the right feelings weren't there and I was flogging a dead horse trying to make shit work. The only other time I've lost someone was Samiel, and we didn't decide we were finished. We were happy, and then he left to meet one of the caravans and he was gone. I didn't have him for nearly as long as I had Evander." Ah, the name at last, whether the Elf wished it or not. "But Evander's not gone. He's an hour's ride away. He hasn't walked away for someone else, he's still livin' an' breathin' and..."

He stopped then, because he'd already said more than he'd intended, and he didn't want to be morose. His mouth firmed up, a near bloodless line. Yeah, he wasn't done pining. Not nearly.

Anguish was an emotion the Elf understood rather intimately. But he might have been living with it too long now to remember how acutely it cut when it was fresh and new. One thing he had not forgotten was how deeply it could infest every part of a thing if wallowed in for too long. He finished the third tattoo and was well into the fourth before he spoke again.

"You told me," he began, blatantly throwing Mesteno's words back in his face, "that I should make a choice. A choice that you have made for yourself from among options not so different than my own. You did not make this choice unknowing of the consequences, but you did make it to improve a thing you cherished. If he did not wish to do such, it is he who has lost and not you. The pain you feel now will ease. Had you continued as you were.....it would not have."

He knew he wasn't saying anything Mesteno didn't know. But as the Sadist had done for him, perhaps hearing it out loud might help in some small measure. "We shall both learn to live in a word where they are close but beyond our reach. And perhaps we will both learn that beyond our reach is how they should be given all that has transpired and the choices we have all made." He let it go there, adding only one more small thing.

"I understand your need to grieve, Mesteno, and I do not begrudge you that need. But I much prefer to see you smile. I shall hope I do not have to succumb to more mountains falling on me to see it." He let that sink in a moment, then changed the subject.

"We are not using the runes correctly. How else might they serve us?" New topic!

You told me. Those words were bound to get used at some point, and Mesteno almost, almost wished he hadn't spoken them to the Elf that night he'd appeared at his home, distraught after seeing Koyan again. "Facta non verba," he murmured distantly, before offering a sickly sounding laugh, or maybe more a croak given how tight his throat felt all at once. "S'always easier said than done."

But there had been a choice. A choice in knowing and accepting that a dead woman would always cast her shadow over anything he might hope to be to his lover - a woman whose presence had been written in the damn stars and scrawled in a dozen prophecies in one form or another - and in walking away, bowing out graciously before he wasted any more years of his stunted lifespan. His masochistic tendencies were not nearly so well developed as the sadistic ones he had a reputation for.

Lexius earned a smile for that mention of the mountain that'd dropped on his head though, even if it were not so bold as the one he'd flashed earlier. It was there though, and genuine even if touched with melancholy. "I'm sorry. I'll get my shit together," he promised him, and with a deep, sharp inhalation, he sat up and set his mind to the task of finding another way to utilise those runes.

Lexius slid the runes he still held into one of those pouches on his belt and produced several small, cut crystals from another as they walked. "I have seven more prepared crystals." He advised the Sadist. "Unless we are at this for weeks, it should be enough."

The tunnel they were following was sloping down again. And, from time to time, they would pass a branch or intersection. There the Elf would prod one of his crystals to life to provide a little more light to inspect the walls for carvings that matched their runes. It would take them at least a couple more hours of travel before they found the next one.

"What did Whisper do that was so wrong that he needed calling before a buncha Powers? Not that I thought the guy was small fry, but for all of them to take such an interest suggests they thought he, or whoever he was workin' for, was pretty damn dangerous," Mesteno remarked. Surely more than just Ares and his titan trophy hunting, though he wasn't so blind as to miss the fact that he'd been trying to cause some divide in his own pantheon.

It was the first time that Lexius had mentioned the 'Company' though, and he grimaced as they travelled the tunnels, watchful of every nook and cranny, but not letting the subject drop, either.

"Really takes the romance out of it y'know, hearing it get called something so... mundane. You'd figure that the Powers, Gods - whatever they are - would have some grandiose title for what they do. It's not exactly awe inspiring." He stopped whenever they came across the carvings, sifting through the pouch he'd kept possession of, though he'd no need of the crystal-born light himself. It just danced off his retinas as if he were a cave dweller himself, and each time they failed to find something to guide them, his frown seemed to establish itself more firmly on his sun bronzed brow.

"I'm sure they do have a magnificent name for it." Lexius murmured absently as they were inspecting the newest juncture. Three tunnels met here in a squareish cavern. "That particular pantheon does seem to love drama in everything they do. But meagre mortal that I am, I am underserving of that particular piece of dark." He was amusing himself, using the local slang rather than saying mystery or secret.

"As for what he did," he paused again, turning half away from the tunnel wall he'd been inspecting.

He had tendrils reaching down all the branches and he was triple checking for any activity along them. So far, nothing. The entire cave system was, in fact, suspiciously empty of any sort of life. Much like the desert, the underground teemed with an abundance of creatures that were mostly hidden away, largely unseen, but always present. Here, not so much. And Lexius couldn't attribute the lack to this being an outer Plane rather than a world of the Prime. But maybe that was the reason. Maybe. Maybe not.

"Rhydin is... was not a 'sanctioned' world. Not for him and what he did within the organization. But he used their resources there anyway. And, perhaps the worse crime, in initiated mortals to the mysteries of his world and infected them with its particular...taint. Apparently that and whatever else he might have been involved in, including the God or not, was enough to see him severely reprimanded. And surprisingly, as well. The demon suggested that their being able to confine him for any length of time was unusual in the extreme."

"I'm pretty sure this isn't something we get to just walk away from," Mesteno declared grimly. ?Whoever the losing side ends up being, they'll find some way to make our lives Hell afterward, and even if we negotiate some protection from the fuckers we're assisting, there'll be some loophole the others see fit to use, some rule in the game they can sidestep just because they're feeling vindictive."

Lexius didn?t disagree in the slightest. Suspected his companion was absolutely right. They wouldn't be walking away from this easily, if at all, and to withhold what he knew would only put them both at a disadvantage. It was perhaps the only reason he?d been so willing to explain what he had, at risk of divulging Koyan?s secrets.

Mesteno was fairly certain of what Lexius was talking about. Little did the Elf know, the Turk had divulged certain things to the necromancer some years before, had even demonstrated what he was capable of doing as a result, but he said nothing to indicate that he knew, or to try and pry more out of the Elf on the matter. Some things he respected people remaining tight-lipped about.

"Doesn't surprise me that Rhy'Din isn't considered 'sanctioned'," he snorted. It was almost as varied in its denizens as Sigil was, but seemed far more disorganised thanks to the nexus and all its appearing and disappearing rifts, the people snatched there against their own volition, the distortions in time and reality. "He's either really reckless to ignore the rules like that, or he wound up getting too fond of the mortals he met to care. Seems kinda commonplace with people in his kind of role. I've seen it a dozen times over. More often than not all they do is lead trouble of proportions the human ain't designed to cope with their way and everything gets messy." It was the voice of experience, no doubt about it! "He better be damn grateful when we get him out," was his muttered end to the subject.

Something Mesteno said seemed to give the Elf pause. He went still, gaze turned away toward one of the tunnels and his brow furrowing minutely, briefly. He stood that way for a good ten seconds, then moved abruptly toward a tunnel that was, more or less, opposite the one they'd entered the cavern through.

"This way." Apparently, share time was over.

He doused the crystal light and continued on. He didn't much need it himself, the violet of his eyes gleaming more brightly than the blue when they were in total darkness. He had retained -some- of his drow heritage after all. But he did use the illumination to ensure they didn't miss a rune for it being too faded or worn.

And so it went, but with more of the typical silence on the Elf's part, until they found the next junction with the next familiar rune. The earth would vibrate from time to time, as if to remind them they were trapped in a world shaped by massive, endless tons of earth grinding together. They also passed tunnels that looked ripe for exploration, with strange and colorful fungus growing on the stones or hints of unearthed gems peeking out of the rocks. Yet the path they remained on was devoid of those kinds of curiosities and temptations....as if to further ensure no one would have reason to go delving where they shouldn't.

Lexius had the rune for the next tunnel among the half he had kept for himself and he did not hesitate to match it to the carving on the wall (after setting a few of his crystal wards down, as Mesteno had suggested, just in case) when the pair of them glowed just as the set before had. The same thing happened. The glow shot from the markings and went spiralling down the entire length of the tunnel. But this time it collected at the far end in a furious lightning storm that briefly outlined the hideous shape of several massive creatures that appeared half snake, half man, armed with spears.

Mesteno had been up pacing, too twitchy to settle this time, when he noticed the change. Something not quite seen, but more felt. A prickling along the skin. A shifting eddy in the still air. He thought it paranoia to begin with, but stood still as something stone carved, he knew it was not merely paranoia. He didn't need to be able to feel energy to know it intuitively. Lexius got a rather rude awakening from his meditation. Mesteno kicked him in the knee! Not hard, but with the heel of his boot as he stared off in the direction he thought the trouble came.

"Up, up!" he hissed.

Lexius was already opening his eyes when the kick caught him. The meditation certainly didn't make him oblivious to his surroundings. He immediately forged a mental connection between his mind and the necromancer's.

Do you see them? He hadn't moved. And he could tell it was a ?them?.

The sensation was shifting, growing stronger, closing in from both sides of the tunnel. As attuned as Mesteno was to the shadows and as well as he could see in the blackness, he still had trouble catching sight of the slithering Shadow Fiends that were lurking out there gathering beyond the wards. With that many, he was able to piece together a picture of the creatures from the parts he glimpsed.

They appeared to be vaguely humanoid with bat like wings sprouting from their backs and skinny, overlong arms that ended in wicked claws. And then the blinking began. A pair of red lights here, eyes opening them shutting. Then another over there, flickering to life than dying away. They were taunting now!

I see them, came his reply. Oh how good he'd got at this mental connection business. There appeared to be no effort made whatsoever, no need to modulate his mind's voice at all; it was entirely natural! Then again, it was probably because he wasn't thinking about it.

He took a moment to offer a description, which in typical Mesteno fashion, was as much cursing as it was usefulness. Bat-man shits with fucking wings 'n arms like damn orangutans. But by then Lexius could probably see the blinking for himself, and Mesteno had turned to stand so that he was able to see both ends of the tunnel. He hadn't reached for either of his primary weapons yet, unsure which to go for. The gun might pick a few of them off before they reached them if they were going to breach the defensive crystals Lexius had set up, but once the magazine was empty he wasn't going to have chance to reload...

How the Hell did they find us? Mental muttering now. So surly!

We should have stopped farther back. Lexius turned his head just enough to catch the teasing flashes of the eyes winking on and off beyond the ward. They knew it was there and weren't coming any closer. Shadow fiends, perhaps. He identified them, but sounded mildly puzzled. Or some variant. The Fiends don't typically leave the Shadow Plane. They must have been brought in as perimeter guards.

Probably been wanting a nibble on me for years then, Mesteno remarked wryly. After all, he did keep passing through their territory, a torment who stuck to paths they'd no way to intercept him on.

The Elf uncoiled from the ground and plucked one of the crystals up from where it hovered near his waist.

Your gun will not work unless the rounds are enchanted. They are too intangible. Close your eyes. He advised the necromancer, who did so grudgingly given the threat. But be ready afterward. The very second Mesteno complied with his demand, brilliant light flashed hot and bright through the tunnel from the crystal. He'd brought the desert sun with him in the stone....and the fiends did not like it! Riotous screeching filled the air as the front ranks of the fiends were turned to dust by the light. But there were more surging behind them and they stormed right into the wards in a fury once the Elf's crystal sun diminished and winked out.

More light, this time from the crystals exploding as the wards were overwhelmed. Now. He snapped it to Mesteno's mind as the creatures poured in from both sides.

Mesteno saw the light, a flash of scarlet through the thin covering of his eyelids, bright enough that he knew there would be sunspots when he opened them. Immediately upon the Elf's command, his blade sang, free of the scabbard, and he put his back toward the Lexius? to guard the side of the tunnel they'd been intending to continue down.

Far from graceless despite scars and old injuries which should have been cripplingly painful (and probably were when winter hit!) but with his scimitar he was a force to be reckoned with. Despite the close confines of the tunnel, he managed to keep his side clear as the fiends came slashing at them, denying any the opportunity to break past him. The notched, silver glinting blade darting in and out cat-quick, clipping loose a hand here, severing the wings that battered at him and leaving the tunnel floor littered with body parts and dead fiends.

Then he brought them up, latent power waking, then stretching outward. Slowly to begin with, and then with deranged vigour, the fiend corpses began to fall on their fellows as his allies.

Mesteno was not however, coming through it unscathed. Perhaps it was the split concentration, but the first wound he caught was in his thigh, a swipe of claws which tore effortlessly through his pants just north of the knee. He made not a sound, always determinedly quiet when he fought, but he couldn't quite bite back the bark of pain when a second set of claws caught him at the base of his throat. A few inches higher and there'd have been some alarming spurting of blood. As it was he clamped a hand over it, digging the heel of his palm into the thick flowing fluid to press as he fought. Like he'd stop! He was furious now.

In the back, near where the ward had collapsed on Mesteno's side, stood another of the Fiends not partaking in the carnage. Instead, the others seemed to be protecting it as much as they were distracting the necromancer. The protected Fiend held a cut diamond in its ethereal, clawed hands and was gazing at the Sadist as if enamoured. Fixated, in truth it was casting a spell, trying to pull Mesteno's soul from his body and into the gem. The dark, insidious nature of the attempted theft wrapped its magical claws around Mesteno's soul greedily.

Lexius was much too busy defending his end of the tunnel to have noticed the stand-alone Fiend and its attempted theft. Not right at first. He'd put three glowing crystals toward the ceiling above their head, further brightening the area and weakening the creatures. And he was twisting his Will in ways that caused strange, out of place sounds and smells to briefly surround where he and Mesteno fought. He was also wielding two gleaming daggers that seemed to be made of pure energy with every bit as much skill and grace as Mesteno was applying his scimitar to the situation.

Still connected mind to mind with the necromancer, he gave a mental snarl when he suddenly identified the reasons behind some strange tugging sensation he felt. Find the mage! He suddenly hissed, turning away from his end of the tunnel to do just that despite the swarm of Fiends he had yet to deal with.

Lexius slid a strip of muslin free from around his neck and sent it floating Mesteno's way. "Bind your wounds." He advised serenely, out loud, already turning back to their little camp. "We should not linger here." He bent to gather up his satchel, called the floating crystals from the ceiling back down to their hover around his waist and doused their light.

Unaware that he was inspiring any violent urges in his companion inadvertently, Mesteno was quite busy harnessing his own base instincts, that intrinsic desire to make things suffer which'd earned him a reputation as a sadist to begin with. He was a little subtler about it these days than he had been once upon a time, but there seemed to be some measure of common knowledge out there even amongst people he'd never discussed it with. Maybe he just couldn't pull off being a convincing pacifist.

The way he snatched the muslin from the air suggested a lingering level of aggression, but he complied with the instructions anyway, using the strip to wind about his neck, uncomfortably tight in an attempt to staunch the bleeding. There wasn't enough to spare for his leg, so he left it to clot up on its own. He wasn't about to bleed out because of it, anyway.

"We used the rune. We defused the trap," he muttered as he fastened the knot, already on the move as he worked. "So someone has been tracking our movements down here in order t'know so precisely where to send them. I can't think they just happened to come across our scent and were smart enough to pincer us the way they did. So which of the pantheon is most likely to send shadow fiends down here to intercept us?"

And why was that mage trying so specifically to snatch his soul? If they hadn't been working for Hades, he might almost have thought it him, making a minion do what he'd failed to back when they'd visited the temple district.

Lexius was doing one those mental exams of the Sadist even as they gathered up their things and head right back down to the tunnel.

"They were most likely sent." The Elf agreed with Mesteno's logic on the matter. His boot kicked free the dropped diamond from the muck on the ground and he paused long enough to collect it up with another scrap of muslin. "The one we annoyed seems the most likely candidate. If it was from them. Perhaps there is another working in collusion with them. Or working against our purpose." Too many possibilities, really, but all worth considering. Lexius tucked the diamond away into his satchel and continued on.

"Whatever the case, I believe we are now on a stricter timetable." And so he was lengthening his stride and sending a gleaming crystal floating out ahead of them in the search for the last junction, the last rune. The crystal, at least, would flush out any lingering Fiends should they be hiding in the darkness ahead of them. It might also serve to give them warning of other creatures lingering about.

Mesteno matched his pace to Lexius', but he didn't suggest they edge up to a lope just yet. He wanted to give the wounds in his leg some time to clot, which would be difficult enough with the constant movement, before he did anything more strenuous than a fast walk. The floating crystal was so vividly bright that he walked with his eyes at a constant squint, hand resting uneasily on the pommel of his sword as if he thought he might need to draw it again at a moment's notice. He'd barely had time to do more than wipe it off, a terrible thing to do to good steel.

"Got my suspicions one of them knows shit about me," he murmured as they walked, his frown now a fixture. "Would have been easy enough to have those things kill me if they'd sent enough. I can only fight that many for so long, even with you at my back," a compliment paid without intention! "but it was like that mage one specifically wanted to trap my soul. Maybe it coulda done it when they overwhelmed me, or maybe it was using it as a distraction to keep me from using certain talents, but I get the feeling it wasn't just a method to keep us from getting to Whisper."

Something had the beads muttering at the Elf's waist It was a soft, sporadic sound, but apparently annoying enough that Lexius touched his fingers to the string to shut them up. They quieted for a bit. Mostly. Every once in a while, they did make another note of noise that the Elf endeavoured to ignore. He didn't answer Mesteno's musing for several minutes, but when he did so it was on the heels of a slowly drawn then carefully expelled breath.

"There are fiends in the Abyss." His tone was smooth, serene, quiet. Still sands, calm waters. "They trade in souls and memories taken from others. I believe these were those kind. Your soul, should it be trapped, is probably worth a fortune to such traders. The Abyss is one step beyond Carceri." And Carceri, of course, was where Tartarus lay. All very snug, these connections! Yet still there were no clear answers. If anything, the puzzle just became more complex.

"Carceri... I remember seeing that name on the map you showed me," Mesteno admitted, "but I don't think we talked about what's there. Folks who trade in souls, huh? I should make some connections."

He was attempting to be humorous of course. He utilised souls for all sorts of things, and had been in the possession of (and occasionally devoured) those of everything from the most mundane of humans, to as exotic as draconic. That didn't mean he was about to start trading them in though, even if that part of his nature which edged a little closer to the black every year was genuinely intrigued by the idea.

When the Elf spoke again, his tone was a bit more...tight.

"Do I need to look at your leg or neck?" He didn't look at Mesteno when he asked it. And he was fairly certain he knew what the answer would be. The beads gave a satisfied click, though, then settled down to their normal silence.

"I'd rather you saved your energy for whatever we're going to meet ahead," the necromancer told him.

The wound in his throat would probably have benefited from the attention, but the tight tone of Lexius' voice spoke volumes. Wary? Repulsed? He wasn't sure of the cause, but he heard it loud and clear, and there was truth in the necessity that they prioritise. They might be coming out with far worse before the end of it all, and they really hadn't the time to stop for first aid now that their schedule was so tight. "I'm not about to bleed out," he added, just to reassure.

The Elf nodded once in acceptance of the answer with absolutely no emotional inflection whatsoever and the beads made a sound so soft it might easily be missed. If somehow beads could sigh, his just did ever so quietly.

Lexius returned to the subject at hand, the fingers of one hand curling restlessly at his side. He'd never recovered the energy daggers. But then, that hadn't been lying about to be recovered. Not physically, at least.

"Their underworld is there. The prison." Where Hades had taken them. A small corner of it anyway. "And I would..."a sliver of heat almost entered his voice, but he caught it and cooled it right off before continuing, "...I would advise against ever visiting the Abyss or doing business with those there." Chaos and evil combined ruled that plane. Not something Mesteno should court given the state of his soul! At least, in the Elf?s opinion. Which he was trying not to weigh the Sadist down with. He was Mr Neutrality.

"Don't worry, Lexius. I'm not so far gone I'd really consider it. And if I do ever get to the point my morals fail me on that front, you have my permission to kill me."

Because that was not a person Mesteno desired to be, and the very notion of becoming that way made him hot with shame. His determination not to become the stereotypical necromancer was matched only by the propensity to do ill his soul seemed so rife with. Which would win remained to be seen. If this journey ended as poorly as he expected it to, he might never need worry about that fork in the path!

It started with a thick, white mist that crept along the floor. Tangled vines appeared, reaching down from the top of the walls. Not quite long enough to reach him yet, but longer the further he delved. At one point he tested his scimitar against them, to see how quickly they grew back, but he couldn't ignore the feeling that they were determined to move him forward, onward to either the maze's centre, or the creature hunting him.

On the positive side, with each appearance of some new element, it seemed he was making actual progress in getting somewhere. When nothing changed, he invariably hit a dead end and had to retrace his steps and try a different route.

Lexius? He tried again, because what harm would it do?

Still no words from the Elf. But he did get something in return. Rather than words or an emotion, it was just a vague sort of tingling that sent actual goose bumps marching along the back of his neck, the skin of his arms.

When he made a left turn down a corridor, his boots splashed quietly into water fully obscured by the mist. And down the length of the hall the vines were now stretching long enough to reach the floor. They wiggled in place when he appeared, as if eager to greet him. And the snorting came again, this time accompanied by the stomp of a hoof that was strong enough to send vibrations rippling along the ground.

It seemed like a meeting he wasn't going to get a choice about avoiding, so he moved onward with his heart hammering in his ears and expression grim. And it happened sooner rather than later.

The vines did nothing to impede his passage and the water was only ankle deep, if completely covered by the tangling mist that floated along the surface of it. One, two, three turns later and the Minotaur was just there.

Ten feet tall if it was an inch, covered in dark russet fur and wielding an axe that looked like it could fell redwoods with a single blow, it spoke in a voice that sounded like boulders grating against each other.

"I smell you, human." It spoke pretty damn well for having a bull's head. It could also swing an axe like nobody's business. The whistling sound of the steel cutting the air accompanied the words.

"Wore this cologne just for you," the necromancer managed to snarl, and that was all.

Quick reflexes, he had those at least, and as the axe clove the air where his head had been, he ducked under the whooshing swing, rolling forwards through mist and damp toward one hoof where, instead of attempting to maim it before it could stomp on him, he jabbed upward with the scimitar right towards its... bull parts.

The Minotaur?s axe clanged loudly off the wall of the maze, loud enough to leave him half-deafened and showering him with sparks and chips of stone. The beast wasn't too happy to have missed, but he was surprised when the human rolled toward him rather than away. Most folks didn't willingly choose to come into cuddling range. Of course, Mesteno's idea of a cuddle was a little too... sharp for his liking.

The Minotaur snarled and twisted with its swing, managing to avoid getting its parts (and they were all out there and exposed for Mesteno's viewing pleasure since the thing didn't seem to believe in clothing beyond a leather looking harness that cross crossed its furry chest!) cleaved clean off and taking the blade of the scimitar along the thick hide of its hips and side instead.

Black blood splattered out even as the beast roared and tried to close its arms around the Sadist for a crushing hug. Since the guy was so close and all. And had worn that cologne just for him.

Mesteno lurched sideways, keeping himself just low enough to deny the massive limbs the crushing hug they desired - he was playing hard to get, the coy bastard - and again he stabbed, this time trying to get up and under its ribs. Hard to see precisely where they were under all that russet fur, but it seemed wiser to stab than slice, unless he had the good luck to get behind it somehow and aim to hamstring it.

The great beast took a single step forward to catch its balance, the hoof slamming hard enough into the water to send it splashing up around them and cause another little tremble to rock the earth. The jab had punctured it squarely in its folded gut, causing more blood to spurt free. Of course this just enraged the creature more.

"C'mon fucker - make an effort!" Maybe he'd be able to taunt it into making an error!

Yanking the sword back viciously (and he was a sadist, so the fact that he twisted it on the way out should be a no brainer!) he'd been ready to try and throw himself out of range of whatever came next, but the stomp had actually unbalanced him for long enough that he was caught in the process of swaying to correct himself.

Its eyes burned a hot red and its arm swept out in the opposite direction to try and backhand the fickle Sadist away. It won the questionable glory of having swatted his victim aside as if he were a gnat. That was the downside to being a lightweight - it was painfully easy to be knocked down by things others might be able to stand fast against.

For what felt like far too long (but was in all actuality more like a second) he was airborne... then he came crashing down with a thump and a wheeze as all the air shot out of his lungs, arm twisted painfully beneath him and cheekbone smacking into the wall. In one eye, everything went black shot through with red like a lightning strike gone awry. He bellowed too, a sound as furious as it was pained, and it was a small wonder he hadn't managed to stab himself with his own damn sword somehow.

The vines were already reaching out the grab him, lashing about his limbs to hold him in place so he could truly enjoy the attention of the beast's axe. Or maybe something more personal since the creature seemed to be squaring its body for a charge.

Still no Elf.

Mesteno?s good eye shot wide - the other was already swelling shut ? and he hacked into the wretched vines wildly, leaving them bleeding white ichor. Just enough success there that he could scramble clumsily, trying to time it so the beast might brain itself against the wall.

Unfortunately, it wasn't quite dumb enough to commit itself to a full-on head slam. It was dumb enough to drop its axe, though! Mesteno had forced this into an up close and personal kind of fight and the bull was all for it despite its dripping wounds (and was that a length of entrails hanging out of the savage cut on its abdomen?!). Massive lips pulled back from teeth much too sharp to rightfully belong to grass chomping creature, it had bloodlust in its burning gaze, all for Mesteno.

"It's not as bad as it looks," he began defensively, because all Lexius had come out of it with was a limp, and he was beginning to feel a little shown up. He did keep still though when ordered to, even if he was a little taken aback by the contact, and ever awkward about accepting aid.

The touch was surprisingly light. A ghost of contact that suggested at the grit in the Elf?s skin rather than screamed it. His other hand had dropped lower, snaking surely past the rip in the Sadist's trousers to curl around the skin of his leg where he'd been wounded by the Fiends. If Mesteno decided to back up rather than allow any of that, the Elf would simply follow and do what he did next without asking permission or giving warning.

That mental connection between them was still active. And once he had the Necromancer?s skin beneath his own, Lexius' Will poured down into his flesh from face to leg, stitching things back together, flushing blood from the spaces it collected, knitting bones where they'd been cracked. This was no subtle, 'let's hope he doesn't notice' experiment to see if it could be done. He knew it could be and he applied his own energy to it with a vengeance, the blue in his eyes burning brightly and the scent of sand thickening around them both as he worked.

Mesteno felt, and heard (some interesting clicking there) the way the bones in his cheek and eye socket resituated, fractures sealing, and that alone felt so bizarre that he was reaching up to try and avert the hand at his face instinctively. Clenching his fingers into a fist to lower again moments later, because he'd been told to be still, he did his best not to fidget or distract, and as the flesh sealed itself up, skin forming where there had been bare muscle in his thigh, he was able to stand a little straighter. Even the tear at the base of his throat seemed to be healing beneath the muslin cloth, so that it no longer hurt to swallow.

The mental connection hinted at the relief he felt from the physical discomfort, but also suggested some concern. Lexius must be spending a great deal of energy to fix him, just as they needed to free up Whisper.

"That's enough. Really, it's enough," he told him when he considered himself fit for travelling again, and he did reach up with a hand then, to lightly catch his wrist and use it to press his hand away.

Mesteno had probably considered himself fit for travelling before Lexius had even touched him! The knowing of that was in the hard line of the Elf's jaw and the slight narrowing of his eyes. He understood it; the pride and competitiveness behind it. He even mimicked it in his own way from time to time. So instead of pulling back or speaking (he was quite sure he could say nothing correct in this instance), he twisted his hand about nimbly and caught Mesteno's wrist in return, holding it tightly for several seconds. The beads went silent as a tattoo slithered down the Elf's arm, across his hand, and started to slide itself onto the Sadist's flesh.

"You don't need t'glower like that it's-" Mesteno had thought the capture of his wrist some sort of retaliation to begin with, but as he tried to tug it back he spied the movement of the tattoo. The ink's slithering surprised him, but not to the point of panic.

Palm sized, glimmering blue, the geometric pattern of the design was distinctly unique and completely incomprehensible to any but the Elf. So he defined its purpose as it travelled.

"For healing." Then Mesteno could decide on his own when to use it rather than being forced to endure... this again.

Samiel had once performed a similar trick, and long years before that, a witch named Gabriella. Maybe that was why Mesteno allowed it with a look of resignation, and only nodded when Lexius explained the purpose. It was practical. "All right, gratias." Genuine thanks, and not strained or grudgingly surly either.

There wasn't much skin on his arms that didn't already have ink or scarring, the gold pigment of an arcane nature that didn't seem to take well to being interrupted by the geometric blue. The back of his hand though, that was free, and just the right size, so it went sliding down under his glove and out of sight where he couldn't even examine it.

Lexius let go and stepped back the moment the tattoo no longer belonged to him, turning away to stride back to the centre of the maze where the portal and the pedestal still waited, avoiding a prone Minotaur along the way. He didn't look particularly drained, but he was pouring three faintly glowing crystals from a pouch and setting them into place to hover around his waist.

When Mesteno join him there, he nodded to the stone pedestal. "That last rune was there. It crumbled as the others. Once it did, the portal appeared where it now spins. I cannot see the other side. We must step through blind."

The necromancer gave the stone pedestal only the most cursory of examinations, nodding his understanding, then he had eyes only for the portal. "Basher goes first," he informed Lexius with a touch of amusement, and giving him no choice about the matter, he stepped right on through!

Reasoning required calm heads and the ability to hold an intelligent, rational conversation. And the Elf was feeling...the Elf was feeling. It ruled out that kind of talking altogether. He didn't protest when Mesteno volunteered to go through the portal first. His jaw did tighten a fraction, though, when the guy hopped to as if to negate any possibility of being overruled! Mesteno would miss seeing it for his haste. Lexius wasn't terribly far behind him.