(LOG) Into the Magician's Lair

(00:33) Maeryn strolled arm in arm with Quess as they made their way into the woods. Heavy packs full of the things Quess had gathered were strapped to both the girls backs. Mae chattered excitedly as they passed a couple gaurds. Though as soon as she noticed a break in the eyes on them, she pulled the other girl deep into the forest, bounding over rocks and stumps in her hurry to get away from the eyes as quickly as possible. The heavy pack didn't seem to slow her as she ran. Finally, when they got close to the mouth of the cave, she stopped, right on the river's shore and began rifling through the bag, pulling out the beginnings for a torch. As she assembled, her excited chatter resumed. "I suspect it will be dark in there, so we better light the torches now. Did you bring any kind of weapon? You know, just in case bears or something are sleeping in there. I figure they're all asleep for the winter, but if we trip over one, we might need something. I've got my dagger.." she said, patting the hilt that poked out of a pocket on her leather trousers. Tyltin would be appalled at the way she was carrying it, but it was much more comfortable to her, not realizing that if she fell, she'd likely poke a nice hole in her leg.

(00:44) Quess felt uneasy about leaving the guards completely out of things. It was her intention to bring a couple along and then leave them just out of reach of the cave but she also understood the need for a certain amount of extra secrecy. And goodness, the girl was as fast as ever. Quess was in as good of shape as she ever had been if not for her poor eating habits of late weakening her more than she would intend, but she still had a hard time keeping up with Maeryn, who seemed to have a nack for darting under, around, and between things. "Of course." she stated once they'd stopped, letting her catch her light windedness, "I was going to prepare a walking stave to ward something off with, yet I knew it might be troublesome to bring. So I brought the knife I had been coerced into practicing with." The practice sessions with Mari were extremely brief, not that she minded, there was a lot she didn't particularly like about her. And the few sessions with Marillion seemed more like a chore to them both as he was a bit of a poor teacher for small blades. Oddly enough, she'd learned more from her recent dance instructor than the both combined. "Surely there's nothing... large in there however." she peered into the entrance with some reservations about this whole trek.

(00:53) Naiia emerged from the trees as silently as her birds circled overhead, one dark brow arched curiously at the sight that met her emerald eyes. "Welcome back, Highness. I hope you had a pleasant journey," she remarked quietly, still lingering to the shadows for she was scarcely dressed to greet royalty...not that it differed too much from what the Princess wore. A slight grin crossed her lips. "And good day to you as well, Quess. I apologize I've been so absent from the castle." Her leather gloved fingers tightened about the haft of the light spear she'd used for practice, unsatisfied simply with leaving her skills to her birds or arrows. Her scrutinous gaze slid over the pair thoughtfully, seeming to pick through their gear as her guard from Alexston joined his charge, looming behind her shoulder silently. "Torches will be better use against bears than those blades. If you're heading in there.." Her dark head nodded toward the cave. "I'd suggest you make a mess of torches ready to use at a moment's notice." Her tone wavered between knowledgeable and respectful, a faint flush rising in her cheeks to be instructing them so.

(00:59) Maeryn's brow rose at Quess. "You had to be coerced into practicing?" Maeryn tsked softly but went back to finishing up the torch. When it was good and blazing, she handed it to Quess and began another for herself. The soft voice from the shadows stole her attention, though she quite easily recognized it. "Ah, good day Naiia!" she sang out happily then looked down at the torch in her hand and hummed slightly in thought. "Ah yes, I suppose you are correct." With a sly grin she nodded her head toward the mouth of the cave. "Want to come exploring? You wouldn't mind, would you Quess?" The looming gaurd was ignored completely. He was not one of the castle men, so he couldn't stop them. Well, at least Quess and Mae. Her torch was lit and a few more prepared before slinging the pack back over her shoulder and handing Quess a few of the unlit torches while she gathered up the rest. A few were held out toward Naiia with a wiggle, as if that alone would convince her to join them.

(01:10) Quess shifted her pack enough to show the hilt of the blade attached to the leather belt that swung around the front of her rather blaise dress that was just an inch from being a commoner's if it weren't for the blue velvet overcoat that helped keep some warmth, her azure riding cloak so often seen in her outtings of late noticeably absent. "Tis no small thing when you--" She started trailing off when tender rustling and, no sooner after, a voice entered upon them. She turned to see Naiia, eyes a bit wide in surprise as she exchanged glances with the princess. Had she been invited? Surely it wasn't by chance that she had shown up at just this location. "And good day, m'lady. Be it no concern, there has been much to keep us -both- busy in recent weeks, I am sure." More confusion leaked into her blushed expression, shaking her head, tentatively letting Maeryn take the lead as she often did on the matter, "I would not mind..." It wasn't in the plan, but honestly, the more about, the more comfortable she felt about it. Torches were shifted in gloved hands, lips chewing together as she took another gander at the cave opening. Small, dark, unknown places likely filled with many more of her phobias. She agreed to this that willingly?

(01:28) Naiia's flush faded as a grin tore over her lips at the upbeat greeting, glad to find her advice had not been met ill. It had been chanced that drew her out here as it turned, or rather her eagles, the larger of whom descended slowly once Naiia had come to a stop. Her arm stretched out to offer the eagle a perch, braced against the creature landing heavily on it. With a coo, she stroked Dara's chest feathers, still smiling over at the girls. "Please, Quess, Naiia. M'lady sounds too old and fussy for me." with a purse of her lips, she eyed the torches, quite obviously contemplating. Mischief glittered in her green eyes even as she glanced back at her guard. She knew the look on his face that meant an objection was rising, and she waved it off before tossing Dara back into the air with a sharp four note whistle. As the birds settled in the trees above the mouth of the cave, she reached out for the offered torches with a nod. "I'd love to! Have you rope with you?"

(01:35) Maeryn grinned brightly and nodded her head when Naiia asked about the rope. "Yes, we certainly do. Quess packed these bags before I returned from the mountains. I must admit she's thought of most everything!" Chatter however, was becoming tiresome. It was time for action. She threaded her arm with Quess' simply because she could feel the intrepidation pouring from the girl. No way was Maeryn going to allow her to back down. "Let's be off then!" With that, the blonde took off, not so much running this time, but her pace was rather brisk. In she dove, into the darkness. Once they were in just a few steps, she held the torch out in front of her and slightly to the side, eyes squinting into the pitch black. "Hello!!" She cried out, giggling afterward in delight as her voice echoed through the moist tunnels. Then she lowered it to an excited whisper. "What kind of treasure do you think we'll find? I bet there are piles and piles of gold, just waiting!"

(01:41) Quess was a bit startled at first sight of the burn careening with flapping wings through the treeling, but it did answer the nagging question that if Maeryn hadn't invited previously of how they'd been spotted. "I'm quite fine with that. Naiia it is." she agreed before she found her arm hooked with the encouragement of her energetic friend. There was one last glance about the surroundings of the trees, eyes narrowed in something akin to a scowl, and unspoken words moving from her tongue from within unmotioned lips. It was no prayer though. She quickly tossed a pleasant smile to their near traveling companion and waved her on, ducking into the cave behind the lit path of Maeryn's torch. The sudden outburst caused a playful if annoyed outburst of whispers behind her, "If a pile of bats come hording out at us, I am going to boot your rump!" though she laughed right along with her, shaking her head to answer the echo of whisper that floated back toward her, "I half suspect a secret entrance to the castle." She turned further back to see if Naiia was as close behind her as she hoped, and to hear her answer better.

(01:48) Naiia found herself juggling a lit torch, several unlit ones and a spear, though thankfully her guard came to her rescue to take the lit one as the girls took off. Green eyes rolled expressively as they jaunted in without the slightest precaution. "What you'll likely find is darkness and dead ends," she scolded quietly as she crept up behind Quess. "May I have one of the ropes please?" Gloved hands were already prying at the pack to try to find it. "We'll tie it to a tree outside and let it out as we go." The youngest Alexston explained patiently, lips finally quirking into a small grin when she caught the general idea of the whispers. "But on more fanciful ideas..perhaps we'll find a hidden stream, cool and perfectly clear, buried for ages. Where is that rope?"

(01:57) Maeryn giggled at Quess' commentary. "Wouldn't that be something? If we found that it wouldn't be such a hassle getting in and out of the castle!" Excitement rolled through her, until Naiia broke the fantasy with a reasonable conclusion to the adventure. Maeryn turned on her heel, her eyes dark, and voice lowered dangerously to match them. "Don't ruin it with talk like that. I've spent the last few months slitting mens throats. Watching our good men die. Now, I just want fantasy if you don't mind." She tucked the unlit torches beneath her arm and reached into Quess' pack that was more easily accessible than her own and tossed the rope in Naiia's direction. She then took a deep breath and closed her eyes, rubbing her free hand over the bridge of her nose. "My apologies. It's... been a hard adjustment." Instant guilt washing over her at her outburst. "A stream would be just as wonderful as any forgotten gold piles."

(02:05) Quess felt rather like a pack mule with some many hands rummaging around her thankfully well organized back that had the rope tied into a convient look just off to the side. But more than the rope was her younger friend's words. She could feel something stirring and ready to slip out of her, something angry yet horrified, but refrained it. Such a thing, if necessary at all, would come at a better time than here and now. With no torches lit of her own, and for good reason, she stayed perhaps a bit closer to the leader of their pack, realizing the need to make their little adventure happen far quicker than she expected after her return, "No need to apologize... I am sure that whatever we find in here will be worthy of tales and memories alike." She nearly offered to take the lead if Maeryn got tired, but she usually didn't take well to that sort of mothering so again, more words swallowed into silence.

(02:10) Naiia's green eyes darted up sharply toward the princess, her lips set into a thin line as she met her gaze. With just a momentary touch of stubbornness, her chin lifted slightly, but her expression softened with the Maeryn's words. Sympathy glimmered in her eyes as well as questions as she searched the girl's paler gaze, hand shooting out to snatch the rope from the air. "As Quess said, there's no need to apologize. It was merely a warning, and who says finding darkness is a terrible thing?" Her brow arched curiously. "We've light with us after all, and the rope will keep us from getting lost." With a polite smile for them both, she jaunted back to the entrance and quickly tied the rope off around the tree before running back to them, her eyes searching over their leader again. Cutting men's throats? "Now, let's see what we can find. Do either of you like animals? A cave like this could have some interesting dens."

(02:19) Maeryn refused to open her eyes, or move for that matter, until she felt that darkness settle back down where it belonged. She realized she should have had a talk with Tyltin before she tried to simply resume normal castle life. Surely he would have had some advice. Unsure why, she slipped her free hand down and let it rest on the dagger's hilt before finally turning to begin leading them through the winding passages. "Dens would be fun to find," she finally said quietly as they walked. "Animals scavage some interesting things." As they walked, she'd put her torch up to this strange rock or that, poked it into different small holes that they certainly couldn't climb through, selected forked passages through gut alone. Finally, after a long while of walking, her torch lit up a large cavern. Tilting her head, Mae stuck the torch further in and took a few tentative steps. "Girls," she whispered, "I think we've found something." Slowly she moved and slid her pack from her shoulders and lit one of Quess' torches and handed it to her and Naiia's as well. Another few steps took her further into the room. A glint of metal on the wall caught her attention and upon inspection it proved to hold a torch of it's own. She pressed hers to it until it caught flame and wandered further down the wall, lighting the torches until the full cavern was lit. Wide eyes turned to the other two, Mae, for once, unable to formulate any words.

(02:30) Quess breathed a laugh at Maeryn's quiet retort, it seemed like the perfect answer to Naiia's question. "As long as they do not mind our visit, I shant mind a den or two." She had lost the sense of time during their spelunking, needing a second rope to tie to the last, never had she ever even thought to entertain something like this in the past but no panic had settled in on her in the very least, perhaps belied out of concern for what had happened to her friend out there on the battlegrounds. The way the torches flickered before and behind did present it's out threats and shadows turned rocky crags into slender fingers and moving forms that meshed on either side of her like they were creeping their reach closer. She had to constantly remind herself it wasn't real. The latest stall brough quess' steps to a halt, leaning one of the extra torches she had on hand to light since there seemed to be need for it by Maeryn's urging. At first, Quess helped Maeryn brighten the room but only made it to the second torch before she paused herself to look over her shoulder at just what they had been bringing to light. A dreadful feeling passed down her spine... not at all what she expected.

(02:37) Naiia had paused further back to make certain that the knot on the second rope was secure, but as hushed as the cave was, Maeryn's excited whisper bounced off the walls to her ears. Her dark head lifted to follow the turn she'd taken, Naiia bounding after them with her guard several steps behind her. He collided with her back when she pulled to a sudden halt, her nose wrinkling at a tinge of something on the air. The damp cave smelt of all sorts of things, but something..a shudder coursed over her. "I think you've found something dead...very dead." She called as she rounded the corner. The sudden brightness of the room they'd lit was nearly blinding, her head jerking back as her eyes watered, trying to take in the strange ...possibly inhabited room. "Girls.." Wariness crept into her voice. "Torch holders don't just..appear."

(02:47) Nogi =The details of one's existence was lost to those who feared only to become dust. From dust all things are born, to dust all things must eventually go. But for some, the dust was stirred. Was it the voice of their master that echoed in the hollow halls, or was it the many voices of intruders who had the ill luck to come to a place saturated by the restless born from dust and animated by evil? The blood in the air was not the same used in the rituals to bind the master's faithful, a crime that could not be ignored had been committed in the hallowed halls of shadow. Behold, the criminals spread their intrusion by lighting the way into the master's sanctum! Such desecration of the dust-borne could not be allowed any longer. Graveyard chills and windless whispers echoed in the stone crypt. Now, the faithful awoke from their deadsleep once again. The first among them stood stoic in the firelight brought from the outside. Motionless he stood, breathless he watched, and lifeless he walked: his arm merged with rusted steel edge and his flesh conjoined to the mail he was gifted long ago in life. Milky-white eyes cried tears of pus, lipless mouth showing off the decayed teeth where only maggots swam. The flickering of the firelight illuminated the silent observer to these intruders. Shattering the silence like a jousting lance bringing victory to its owner, the faithful dust-borne let its jaw drop open and released its call: a garbled and ear-splitting moan. So sounded the Hunters' Horn, they have been found; and the faithful must protect their master's secrets. Elimination was the answer to all things.

(02:58) Maeryn glanced around and slowly moved over and crouched in front of what looked to be an old pile of cloth. "No, they don't," she whispered to Naiia's assessment. With a finger, she poked through the molding bedding until something gleaming beneath it caught her eye. Gingerly, she pushed more of the sour smelling cloth away to reveal a heavy metal box, the silver tarnished with time. The box was impressive itself, but what really caught Mae's eye was the blazing symbol worked into the design. The Valenti seal. Her fingers brushed over it almost reverantly, confusion deep on her face. "I... think I found something importa--" She was cut off by that sudden spine-chilling cry. Her head whipped around, only to have her own shrill scream join with the creatures. Down she tumbled, into the sopping wet bedding, the box clutched tight against her chest. Feet kicked out, shoving at the fabric until her back found the mossy wall. Terror like she never felt rendered her frozen then, save for her vocal chords, which produced scream after piercing scream.

(03:10) Quess shuddered at the bizarre sounds that shrouded the very air with its thickness, proving it wasn't just the mere cold causing nerves to react and hair to stand on end. She still kept a watchful eye on Maeryn as she dug through the remains of someone's former bedding. But movement, no, something seeming to arrive into existance from the shadows of the corner of her eye tilted her head just enough to spot to putried creature before its howl. The impossible sight didn't register properly. Even while her friend were musing about her find, a trembled voice called out to it as if it were any other man who had ventured upon them though no less petrified, "Who are you?" It wasn't real. Just the play of the shadows and her overactive mind again. And then it wailed. She found herself falling shoulders against the rocky walls, head thumping against it but there was no time for the pain to set in. For the whining screech of her mind drowned out the noise, the sound of her heartbeat drumming over her friend's scream like a thousand wardrums. Events and memories, real and imagined, flashed as her as hand reached painfully against jagged stone to the hilt of the blade. "Not ever again." the whisper was left unheard under the chaos.

(03:18) Naiia's eyes tore over the room with a tracker's gaze, every instinct screaming for them to leave this instant. Something moving drew her, and her guard was instantly in motion, launching himself at the foul thing before its cry even tore through the air. "Run!" She yelled, her voice nothing against the twin howls rising from Maeryn and the ..thing. Her head whipped between the two, and her hand shot for Quess' arm as she tried to drag her toward Maeryn, torches and spear crushed against her own side. "Get her out of here, now!" If Quess could even hear her, it'd be a wonder, but she shoved her hard toward Maeryn before trying to grab hold of the blonde princess's hair. With a twist, she sought to yank her to her feet as her guard aimed his sword for the thing's putrid head.

(03:24) Nogi: =The stoic guardian was knocked to the ground, but its call continued to bellow out and echo in the darkened halls. No answer manifested to mortal senses, but the warcry of the dust-borne came like a blanket of heavy air - rushing to fill every crack and space within the cavernous crypt. The faithful began their movement towards the chamber where the three intruders were causing such chaos. Chaos was not welcome in the realm of dust, where the silence of death is the one power worthy of respect. They came with axes, they came with swords, they came with knives and they came with scythes. Each one more rotten then the last, but bound by a fealty that the living could never understand. More came into the light, seeking to dig into the flesh of the villains before them. Their weapons were poisoned by the elements themselves and by the mastercraft of time immeasurable. Closest to the youngest of the living among the three, an agent of the master leaned towards its side as if about to stumble. Its arm, weighed down by the rusting sickle it held, swung limply out, and the dust-borne leaned back before twisting forward and hurling its weapon clumsily forward at the criminal before it. Others merely began unspoken formation as they approached the light.

(03:40) Maeryn felt her stomach lurch, tasted the bile at the back of her throat when fear finally brought silence to her. She gagged against the sudden stench as more spilled from the shadows. The book-sized box was clutched painfully tight against her chest. All the blood, all the death she'd saw and delivered only recently was no comparison to what shambled before them. She only vaguely felt herself pulled to her feet by her hair, but it was enough to snap her from silence and into an episode of her underlying madness. "No... no no no. You can't be here. It's dirty. So much dirt. I need, I need, I need..." One hand released the box to pull her dagger from her pocket. "Isn't right. Not, not allowed. The numbers are off. The numbers are off." Her frantic fear melted into a boiling dangerous insanity. They came in an odd number. It had to be corrected. She pulled away from the other women, slid down the wall, wide wild eyes on the dirty things. Her head cocked in an odd way. One step, two, she broke from the wall, toward the things. Even as the closest swung at Naiia.

(03:59) Quess's torch fell to the ground out of her limp hand, the dark eyes widened with terror with tears steaming out of them and a minute but violent shudder forcing aches into her body from stress muscle, trembled lips pulled into a taut scowl. Yet not a sound made and the right hand had frede the dagger into a deathclutch at her side. Even as she was roughly dragged from her former position, feet barely keeping up without stumbling over each other, her eyes never left the vile apparitions. Maeryn? The golden hair shining in the firelight distracted her gaze to realize she was moving past her. "Maeryn! Stop!" she couldn't hear her own voice. She wasn't even sure if it made noise, to be honest she didn't even know if she were breathing any more. What good does such a panic do, lass? One moment of panic let her shake, one forced breath, oblivious to the creature from the corner aiming its death at Naiia, she likewise broke from her grip with knife clutched by both hands. Her friend. His sister. No one's getting taken away. Not this time.

(04:09) Naiia's hair prickled on the back of her neck as she felt more than heard something moving toward her, but she held tight to Maeryn's hair until she was sure she had her feet under her. Twisting her spear to block the sickle, she spun away, the beast's slow movements easy enough to escape though she tried to keep herself between it and the other women, her green eyes glittering. Such efforts were in vain, Naiia's head snapping around as she heard Maeryn's incoherence, the Alexston girl staring in horror as the princess went toward the damnable creatures..and Quess too. "MAERYN!" It was as much of a roar as she could provoke from her thin frame, Naiia struggling to keep her attacker and the girls in sight. "Quess, get her out of here. Drag her by her damned hair if you have to!" Her free hand shot to her hunting knife as her feet slipped on the damp floor and molding blankets, the girl struggling to keep her footing.

Meanwhile, back at the castle:

(17:31) Drysllthen rolled his shoulders as he wandered out into the entrance of his castle, blue eyes scouring the usual bustle of the huge hall. Stewards and servants handled the flow of visitors as the last petitioners of the day filed out, bobbing and bowing as they passed the King. A gloved hand waved them to be on their way dismissively as his own guards loomed near the monarch who was quick to wave off any ceasing of the activity in the hall. Instead, he watched in silence, no doubt to the unease of some of the occupants, standing with his gloved hands clasped behind his back, lightly armed as he usually was within castle walls. Restlessness hung about him as he wandered to one of the entry guards. "Has Lady Direnni returned?" He asked in an undertone.

(17:38) Carrigan Alexston had returned from hunting into the Alexston grounds with venison for the chef, but had stopped halfway up the entryway path with the dead animal draped over her dark bay hunter's quarters. She'd looked up at a familiar screech and reined the beast in, and shortly after her brow furrowed. She trusted horses. But she recalled Dierdre's response to being near Jenova's trees; and these were Naiia's eagles. Then where was Naiia? And why were they so distressed? She turned the horse one-handed and nudged it back the way they had come, the neck of the dead and now hornless stag flopping against the horse's thigh as she made her way through the streets to the church compound. A quick question to Silas had her turning around yet again, and clattering through the gates of the castle. She dismounted in the quicker, leg-over-the-front fashion and told one of her own assistants to take the deer to the kitchens for the van Reinhardt creature, and then she progressed into the castle looking a touch less perfect than usual, red hair falling naturally as opposed to being shaped as she'd like it. Cherry black leather was hardly suitable for turning up at court, but for now, she was worried, and after a brief scan of the room turned her eyes up to her brother-in law. "Have you seen Naiia?" she asked, fletchers' glove lifting to push her hair back in another remarkably Mereavus gesture, the other at her hip. 'Worried' wasn't a colour she usually wore.

(17:44) Tamarilyn is not in fact Mari, but a nondescript guard for the purpose of this exercise. He was out of breath by the time he came before the king. The man skidded to his knee before the tall ginger, perspiration dripping from his brow. There would be outrage to follow over the way he'd charged full-tilt through the castle's grounds, knocking aside servingwomen and squires, but for know the man knew that every second counted-- Mari had impressed this point upon him with the point of her blade at his throat. "Your majesty," the man managed, heart pounding in his throat, "Your sister and her ladies are in under attack," he paused, face paling as he elaborated, "... I swear on my mother's grave, your grace, it's the dead. They walk." Another pause, and the man managed to choke out the rest of what he'd been sent to tell them, "... lord... er, lady Direnni sent me to lead you to them. We have no time to lose!" He didn't know how long four girls and a couple of guards could hold off the undead...

(17:57) Drysllthen dipped in a quick bow at the sight of his unusually disheveled sister-in-law, his eyes darting over her face with the question. "Not recently. Is there cause for concern?" Solicitously, he reached for her elbow to escort her further into the castle to discuss the matter until the clatter through the door and the general outcry of folks being shoved aside spun him around. His eyes were on the culprit in an instant, staring as he went to his knees before him. His words provoked shrieks of terror before the King could even answer, and a moment later his voice boomed above din. "SILENCE!" It echoed off the stones, the King sharing a small glance with Carrigan before he began sending out orders for his entire personal guard to be gathered into the throne room while his armour was brought and several more garrison contingents mustered in the courtyard. "We will burn them from the land!" he vowed to those about. "Come with me," He motioned abruptly for Carrigan and the guard to follow him into the throne room, the King marching ahead, his eyes dark. "Send for that Sieghardt and Lord Juntric too." He snarled to a passing steward before he swept into the throne room. Without a moment's pause, he turned on the guard, his own men securing the room as the King stared him down. "Where are they?"

(18:04) Carrigan Alexston had been about to answer when the man spoke, and in typical Alexston understatement, her brow arched, but little else spoke of much shock on the matter. Living dead? I'll wager their hearts aren't pleasant to eat. After exchanging the glance with Drysllthen, the words 'and her ladies' making her assume Naiia was with them. Perfectly good reason for birds to go batshit, and if she wasn't, then Maeryn was a sort-of-relative in sort-of-two-ways, so it'd be prudent to go along. And exciting, no? Live a little. She nodded once to the King and followed after him, fortunately still having her quiver and bow buckled to her back. "Damn it, Naiia," she whispered, barely audible to anyone else. Was the girl insane? Trailing off into what she could only assume were strange places, since she hadn't encountered any Undead at the local fruit market?

(18:05) Tamarilyn had somehow managed to stand again to follow the king, though how he'd accomplished such a feat when his knees felt weak as water was beyond the man. "A cave... in the forest. It's not too far from here, and there's a guide rope that lead us near to them. We can ride to the mouth, but some of the passages are too tight to pass through ahorse." He could only hope that their retreat had not carried them far from where the guide rope ended.

(18:16) Sieghardt had been out in the yard with the small handful of guards that thus far he'd been able to convince to at least listen when the horrified guard came riding hell-bent for the castle, he'd already been on his way, sword in hand when the runner came for him, but details were few and far between, the runner was simply the messenger; "Your Majesty!" he called, meeting them on the steps of the keep outside the entry-hall, thankfully already clad for battle from the drills in the yard; "What's happened; the runner mentioned something about little Lady Naiia being in danger, and the undead?" he'd stopped by his rooms and grabbed the many-pouched bandoleer from his quarters, filled with various reagents, powders and devices that formed the bane of a few creatures he'd run across. "Where is she?"

(18:22) Stephen Juntric was more curious then a cat to the summons, the servant gave bits a pieces. What was only known for sure was to be quick about coming. He kept the servant near, he would send the male if need be back to his room for whatever weapons he needed. He steped into the throne room, giving a bow, "You've called, your majesty?" His head moved as he looked around the room to see who was all there.

(18:34) Drysllthen's personal servants had descended to the throne room en masse with the King's armour, Drysllthen stripping off his surcoat and shirt without apologies to Carrigan. With their help, he threw on the light undershirt with dark mail following, the heavy tunic falling nearly to his knees. Back went the surcoat with pauldrons and gauntlets being strapped on as he listened to the guard speak. "A cave?" He cursed loudly before swiveling to the servants cowering in the doorway. "All the torches you can find, make new ones if need be but get them here now." He stomped into boots as he arched a brow at Sieghardt running into the room. "My sister is in danger along with her. Apparently they've found it diverting to wander without protection into caves." His head swiveled toward Stephen. "Yes, Tyltin is from the castle. You'll be coming with us. Arm yourself." One by one, he looked at the men filing into the room before his eyes landed on Carrigan again. "I suspect there's no chance in hell you're letting us have all the fun. What do you need?"

(18:40) Carrigan Alexston didn't seem to much care if he stripped off down to nothing but his flaming body hair (not that she could remark on colour), as she was too busy pacing the carpet, three steps in each direction. "Mother would choke her," she muttered. "Actually choke her." She stopped to look at the King when he asked her what she needed - she had her hunting knife, a bow and enough arrows left to take down a small herd, so she reasoned she was quite prepared. "I need you to keep up with me once we get on horseback," she answered. "Other than that, I'm quite prepared to shoot holes through Undead foreheads." With a vengeance. She had a flair for the violent, and this posed the perfect opportunity to exercise her particular need to hurt things. Kill things, preferably. Along with dragging Naiia out of stupidly acquired danger, it was reason enough to go.

(18:54) Sieghardt felt a little sting from his own personal interest coloring his priorites, but he dismissed it as he rifled through his pouches, where did he put it... "Understood, Your Majesty." he murmered and finally produced a roll of leatherbound vials of a viscous white fluid; "Here." He said, pulling one free and handing the half-dozen or so left to the king; "It's an oil, made out of crushed lilies and a few... other things. The oil was blessed by a crazy priest I met near Szongrill." he said, tucking his own vial back into his pouch; "When we get there, coat your blades or arrows in it, it's extremely caustic to restless spirits, I've found it rather effective against ghouls." he arched an eyebrow at them; "Don't drink it though, it's caustic to them, but outright poisonous to us." That taken care of he turned to follow the Lady Carrigan, friendly or not they both had a stake in this, William would never forgive him if anything became of Naiia when he had power to alter her fate; "I'll get a head start Your Majesty, I'm sure Lady Carrigan would love to accompany me while you finish your preperations." Mostly he didn't want her anywhere behind him with that bow.

(19:01) Stephen Juntric nodded his head as he sent the servant of to fetch his things. Being the crown prince's personal advisor he himself felt a personal attachment to how things would turn out. He quickly prepared when the servant returned with his blades and light amor. He nodded to Dryslltthen, he was ready. Despite his limited vision, his blade was ready for whatever may cross its path.

(19:11) Drysllthen snorted at Carrigan's response. "Trust that we will, my dear lady." Eyes narrowed at the rather obvious statement on the poison, but he simply ordered more cloth brought to soak their weapons when the time came. All he'd demanded was brought quickly, thought Sieghardt's sudden attempt to control the situation drew a glare from him. "My preparations are quite done, and no one will be getting a head start. I am leading this, Sieghardt, make no mistake of it." With that, he slammed on his helmet and strapped his unornamented sword to his back while two squires came running with his weighted quarterstaff. His gauntleted hand creaked around it as he waved the company toward the door. "The horses should be saddled and out in the yard by now. Take one that suits your size, Sieghardt." With that, the King stalked from the room with his men in tow, assuming those necessary would follow. "Lead us." He snapped to the guard that had flown in to inform them.

(19:15) Carrigan Alexston was, quite naturally, the first one mounted, though she did pause by Sieg to murmur, "Word to the wise, don't patronise the King," to him, followed by a short, mocking little laugh. "Or try to tell me what I will or will not be doing, even if it is nicely worded." She read commands rather well - Mother had been the Queen of nicely phrased orders. They were orders nonetheless, and Carrigan didn't take them from Sieghardt. She settled into her saddle comfortably, her own horse looking slightly bewildered at so much use in one day. Didn't she have runners for this? He looked dubiously at the other horses, before deciding to adhere to family tradition, decide he was better bred, and snort. After a brief girth check, she was happy to settle in somewhere behind the guard and near the front of the group - going slow was just too frustrating.

(19:25) Sieghardt simply put on a wooden, businesslike exprssion, tucking the balde oil away in his pouches once again. Did these ingrateful nobles want to ignore his advice? That's fine by him, not everyone was Will, and open to other points of view, and being royalty only exacerbated the issue. He simply tuned out the hostility and went to work. At least they'd been open to the poison, now the blonde warrior just had to work around a troupe of clanking, clattering infantryman walking into a confined space inhabited by several delicate young Ladies and the walking dead. Peachy. The big man was used to the dismissive ridicule though, afterall when you plied your trade as someone who hunted both men and fairy tales, you ended up with more then your usual share of derison shunted your way, he simply picked the larger of the horses not already occupied and kicked it into a canter, pulling the heavy-bladed horsemen's axe always hanging from his belt free and giving Drysllthen a hard-faced nod; "Lead on, Your Majesty." he said, reining in behind the King, he silently made bets on how many of these loyal young men would be lining the gizzards of the necrocotic freaks threatening the princess and his friend's sister by the day's end; grim-faced, he only hoped that their sacrifice might at least serve to add some weight to his opinion amongst these blue-blooded sort.

(19:31) Tamarilyn had mounted up already-- he'd traded in his horse for a fresh mount upon arrival at the stables, but it seemed the whole pack of beasts misliked the stench of death upon him, and shifted uneasily. "I'll lead you to them, your grace... as soon as you're ready to go." he offered dutifully!

(19:36) Stephen Juntric fell in line, shuffling out with the rest. He choose a horse closet to him, mounting the lumbering creatrure. His fingers flexed around the reins as he waited. He would lend his blade to recuse the ladies and keep anyone he could safe, he would make damn sure he wasn't counted amoung the fallen.

(14:31) Tyltin V: The horn...the damned -horn- had to blow, that abominable instrument which roused the dead from their lamentably finite slumber. Creatures of sense and pain awoke, driven by the dust in their joints and the gnawing hunger in their bellies. Some had eyes; others hardly had faces to speak of. Three managed to shuffle into the wide chamber, while another awoke from the back of the room. Behind them a veritable column shuffled in, scraping and bumping, until the last of the horn's strength wore off...without sensing their quarry, these creatures fell back into a fitful sleep, their lumbs glossing over, eyes fading to cold grey stone. Unfortunately the great knot of living-dead statues formed a twisted barrier at the narrow neck of the cavern, just in front of the chamber's entrance. Only the four remained lucid, aroused by the chaos scrambling before them.

(14:38) Maeryn didn't hear the calls of the other girls. Those wild jade eyes much too focused on that one creature who desperately needed to go. Her ears only filled with internal chants; Not right, numbers off. She didn't notice the influx, the trap, the creeping of Quess. Dagger was held tight in her hand, some basic funtion reminding her the pointy end went into the soft parts. There was a moments hesitance as she continued to draw closer, the thing was missing much of its soft parts, and coated in armor. The Knight's words floated through her madness. The eyes. This one still had retained one. And that is where she aimed, breaking into a run with a wild banshee shriek. But the floor was slick from moisture and she found herself skidding, the knife arching just off target, and her thin frail body fell into the zombie's chest as if she were swooning into a lover's arms.

(14:52) Quess, while intent on warding off the attackers with violence, she were doing so out of protection of the others despite being the lesser experienced of the three. Thus she slashed out a clawed hand to try to grab Maeryn's clothes at the beginning of her deadrun into the armored beast. A futile gesture, missing by inches. There was no panic allowed in her even as nerves shuddered, watching the princess flinging herself in the midst of the three shambling toward them. Instinct had her barreling foward into a run, blade held firmly with both hands close to her chest to make a hard stab for one of the creatures, in best hope of at least tumbling it to the floor with her under her charging weight. She misintepreted the corpse's strength, face first into its armor as she pressed up against its putrid frame, repeatedly stabbing at it in vain before she felt something blunt to the side of her head knock her down to the floor where a sword crashed down against the rocks she had just rolled away from but not without feeling the sting of its rusted blade.

(14:57) Naiia slammed her feet hard on the ground, legs tensed to harden her stance as horrified green eyes tried desperately to assess the situation. Her guard had launched for the main group, the gurgle that his cry had ended in still shuddering through her as the putrid things enclosed him. Faint, very faint relief crept through her when they stopped moving, Naiia herself skittering backward with her spear upraised, attempting to get close to a torch. Her stinking persuer raised his sickle again, and with a hiss, she stabbed upward with her spear, trying to jam the point into the blasted thing's neck, unaware that she was snarling back at the beast, fear having turned to fury. Her left hand swooped in, attempting to bring down the serrated hunting blade onto the arm holding the sickle as the light of the torch flickered near her head.

(15:00) Tamarilyn had assumed that this would be a simple 'round 'em up' job when she'd departed the castle on Drysllthen's order, and so had taken only a couple of guards with her. They'd tracked the girls on horseback to the mouth of the cave, where the narrow passage made it necessary for them to dismount. The guide rope tied off outside made it clear enough that they'd have to venture into the cave, and the girl hadn't hesitated. An arm came up to halt the guards at her flanks as they came upon the room in question, and the girl took quick stock of the situation before hissing between her teeth, "Shit." She turned to one of her companions and drew steel, wagging it perhaps a little too menacingly at the man as she delivered her orders, "Get his Majesty and the rest of the guard.... run." The room presented her with two options-- skulk around the edges and try to avoid notice, or take the most direct route to the girls-- through the crowd of the undead. Naturally, Mari picked the more exciting of the two and whispered to the guard next to her, "We're going to them-- follow my lead." And so the pair, back to back with swords in one hand and torches in the other, set to cutting a swath through the creatures, toward the three girls cornered against the back wall.

(15:05) Tyltin V: The floor-bound corpse suddenly found a dagger sliding high into its throat. It didn't properly hurt, not like the mind-numbing ache twitching through his muscles, but it suddenly made his limbs more difficult to move. Dust poured from the knife-filled hole when Maeryn's weight emptied the groaning wight's lungs of air, and mindless arms slowly coiled around the girl's shoulders. Instinct drove him to squeeze, to crush, even as grey rock spread from the knifewound...and if he succeeded, the warm girl would be trapped in wrapped stone and steel. The two near monsters slowly reacted to the barelling girl, while the sickle-wielding corpse swung the rusted tool wildly, cracked hands hardly holding onto the wooden shaft. Again metal contacted necrotic flesh, but this one retained a bit of nerves and cried out in the surprise of pain. Naiia's spear was gripped with a sudden burst of strength, teeth and ooze spraying from the dead man's mouth as he lunged forward, blinded by pain and rage, biting at her so hard his remaining teeth began to crack. Poor Quess had two of the dust-mongers reaching for her, bone-showing fingers gripping for cloth and hair, bone and flesh. In the hall, only the last of the monsters was lucid enough to react, turning and screaming at the new intruders--the others formed a maze of petrified stone, ranks almost closed in more than one spot...doubtful anyone of great stature could make it through.

(15:17) Maeryn froze, completely when she found the dead things arms around her, her cheek and side pressed against its rusting armour. Wild eyes turned into utter horror. Unclean, unclean, unclean... the chanting in her head screamed. It was soon joined by her own proper screaming as she felt her bones begin to strain under the pressure. A sharp 'crack' sounded as her shoulderblade cracked, another as a few ribs were crushed. She couldn't find any air, the scream strangled off into a series of choking gasps. By then, she couldn't move if she wanted to, those stone arms holding her securely, toes barely brushing the ground. Her quick gasps accompanied by a madness induced ticking and tremble of her head and eye.

(15:24) Quess slashed against the brutality that were pushing her further away from Maeryn which only made her irrational tenacity grow more furious, blubbered tears yet felt none of the physical pain, only the pain of helplessness that she couldn't help either of her compatriots, crying out their names over the bestial sounds in frustration. Her only weapon, the dagger, was then thrown with all the ferocity her arm could muster but she hadn't taken enough lessons in the regard and simply clocked Maeryn's ghoul in the head in vain. But the moment of her own distraction had her own encounter's blade thrusting between her legs, pinning the girl's skirt to the dust of the floor as its companion wound a heavy slash that was meant to cleave her head. One heel dug into the floor to try to pull away while the other pressed a foot against her subduer, fingers clawing backwards in violent struggle to free herself until something stung her hand just off to the side. The torch she'd dropped at the beginning of all this! Thankfully, she were faster than her opponents as fingertips burned themselves a bit more to get a decent hold on her newly acquired weapon, plunging it forward into the face of the free wielder who had its vile talons sharply into one of her shoulders and preparing to jab its gnarled weapon into her torso.

(15:27) Naiia had only a moment to glimpse that the foul creatures had her companions in their grip, her vision suddenly burning as the ooze struck her face. Hissing, she grappled for the spear, left hand flying wildly with the knife as teeth snapped toward her. Misjudgement allowed her hand too close to that oozing mouth, and her scream joined the others as teeth clenched to bone, pain screaming up her arm. The spear snapped in their hands, and she threw it aside, her stomach lurching with the agony and disgust. Clawed fingers ripped the torch from the wall, and she shoved it into the undead thing's face. Muscles poised, ready to jerk back her hand if for an instant that terrible jaw loosened. The single fight had her attention, Naiia desperately trying to free her hand and dispose of this one to get to the others.

(15:33) Tamarilyn shouldered her way through the crowd, ducking and weaving with the nimbleness of an acrobat, thrusting sword or torch at anything that moved ahead of her. The guard behind her was not so fortunate, and as he fell behind, unable to fit through where the shorter, more slender girl could, called out, "M'Lady!" Without looking back, Mari barked a, "I'm fine. Get to the mouth of the cave. Show them the way when they get here." With all of the creatures turned to stone, watching her back became a secondary concern. She came first upon Naiia and her attacker, and sought to dispatch the biting thing with a quick cut to the thing's neck, intending to take its head off cleanly... or partially. Either would do for the girl, at this point. Though her nostrils were filled with the scent of them, and her blood ran cold at the realization of what they were, the girl betrayed none of her nerves, her cuts and steps quick and deliberate.

(15:38) Tyltin V: Maeryn's captor sucked in his last breath just before the grey spread to his lungs and down his arms, pinning the blonde girl even tighter in his grip. Despite her wriggling intrusion, the beast succumbed to the great exhaustion...not even the Master's torturous magic could keep him from his eternal slumber, now. The near pair grew confused at Quess's valiant resistance, their mush-minds churning very slowly. Much more quickly than it could comprehend, the one monster's face caught fire like so much kindling; necrotic flesh sizzled and ignited, sending a sickly-sweet stench to add another layer to the pungent mixture. The remaining beast continued to grab and bite at the former Princess, unable to care about his burning companion--who still shambled around quite dangerously, a quickly-brightening torch. Teeth broke off in Naiia's arm, slimy gums gnashing the splinters deeper into her muscle. The jaw hung on even as the cinders caught in the monster's hair...indeed the flames licked lifing flesh before dead muscles broke free, and there were two flaming corpses shambling about, slowly turning to stone. Stone and flesh alike seeming to burn hotter than twelve Hells.

(15:44) Drysllthen asked questions only of the guard guiding them as they rode at a furious pace through the forest, flattening bushes, leaping fallen branches. Heavily armoured or not, he laid flat against his mount's neck fallen into silence and keeping up with Carrigan just as he'd asserted. Quickly, he dismounted, his jaw set beneath his helmet as he grabbed hold of his quarterstaff. Abruptly, he pointed it at two older men, men who'd seen even undead in their service of his father and survived it, and Sieghardt. "Coat your weapons in the slayer's poison, and see what awaits us. Leave the poison with us to ready our weapons." He pointed sharply to another four. "Light the way and the archers will follow." He nodded for Carrigan to join those ranks if she wished, continuing to arrange them into a narrow column with archers interspersed. It was a small group..a small space, and the King held himself at the front of the second wave, forcing them to wait give the first one room to attack, but soon too they were twisting down the narrow corridors

(15:53) Maeryn felt the thing she was crushed up against give its last squeeze. The squeeze that left her completely incapacitated in his statue-grasp. The corner of the silver box that she still had against her chest shoved into it painfully. The sharp corner biting deep into her, just between the crushed ribs. The dagger she'd held, having been harmlessly laid between the things armour and her box slid in her trembling, the last squeeze forcing the blade to shift and slide from the box that blocked it and pierced her low between her ribs. She didn't feel the pain, couldn't. Maeryn had vacated all her senses. The shambling zombie that spread fire and lit the backside of her leathers couldn't even rouse a scream from her. Instead, as the blood rolled and the room grew warm, her eyes rolled backward and she let herself sink into black unconciousness.

(15:57) Sieghardt readied the stout axe at his belt, far more effective in a closed space then his lengthy sword would be. The king's words drew a curt nod for efficency's sake, pulling the leatherbound roll of vials from his bandoleer and handing them to one of the milling soldiers, speaking a few words of what a proper dose was in a mutter before turning to his two companions; "The toxin won't do your work for you, but it will cause the dead a great deal of pain; enough to make the stoutest wight recoil." he grimly ran the sickly, pungent smelling fluid over his axe blade; "Take advantage of that weakness." with that he set about fufilling the king's wishes, stalking ahead of his two armored companions and into the caverns, the rope strewn across the floor guiding him as he moved deeper, thrusting a borrowed torch ahead of him as the sounds of battle and terror reached his ears; "They're this way!" he shouted back once before jogging ahead, gripping his weapon with grim purpose.

(15:58) Carrigan Alexston had opted for the quicker version of applying poison - coating every arrow with a cloth in turn would be too time consuming. So, as she melded into the back of the fore-runners, she slotted her quiver down to her elbow and upturned the entire contents of her vial into the bottom of it. The bow remained tucked onto her shoulder, boots moving as quickly as she could get them to go through the winding corridors. William would kill her if she failed to keep Naiia safe - she was already metaphorically shitting herself over what he'd say about not keeping an eye on her whilst Cordelia was away. The girl was supposed to have better sense than this. Once the long, twisted corridors began to come to their close, she picked up the pace - better if some of the ranged attacks could get there early. Arrows were faster than running in. Her voice preceded Sieg's first wave, leaving the opening to the chamber in the perfectly simple, "Naiia!" Not a shriek, not a war-cry (that'd be a touch over dramatic for even her), rather just the intended assurance of one Alexston to another that someone familiar was coming.

(16:02) Quess, even with both legs propped against it, she simply couldn't press off the weight of the lower creature, only kept it at bay as it tore against her dress in attempt to climb toward her, leaving the sword it its partial sheath of dirt and stone that normally should have snapped the aging metal. While it's partner was detained by a body ever engulfed in flame before its demise of stone, she used her ever failing strength to bash against the other's head with the dulled torch, a savagely yelped word with every strike as she stared straight into its nightmarish gaze, "Not. Losing. Anyone. Any. More!" It was unimpressed as the torchlight was merely falling to embers against the soldier's helmet, its ghastly growl inched its way ever closer.

(16:03) Stephen Juntric settled himself in the second group, limited vision kept him close to the gaurd with the troch. His short sword coated with poision, he lumbber through with the others. He didn't know what he was going to see, but he was ready for what may come, or at least he thought so.

(16:07) Naiia sucked in a massive breath when the thing finally stumbled back from her, wide eyes staring at the two firey things as she swung at Mari. She caught herself with a choking gasp, emeralds staring disbelievingly at the other woman. Where had she come from? "Maeryn," she rasped to her, pleading. "Quess.." Her eyes tore over the room, trying to find them as she stumbled away from the burning stone. A choking sob welled from her at the sight of Maeryn encased, but she charged with a roar toward the one that still bit at Quess. She kicked hard at its head, heavy hunting boots slamming down until the helmet and skull gave beneath it and beyond, grinding the bits into the wet floor frantically. Only a familiar voice broke through her sobs as she shattered the skull. "Carri?" She asked Quess dully, suddenly looking around as if her sister were somehow in the room. "CARRI!" Knees gave out and she slid to the wet floor next to Quess, shuddering, eyes following the burning beasts until she realize Maeryn was aflame...the lass half crawling over to beat out the fire, even if ..even if..

(16:13) Tyltin V: The burning ghouls slowly gave over to smoke, stone overcoming flesh in the race to consume the twice-dead beasts, leaving charred half-statues when the last fuel of flesh turned to ash. The one functional corpse was knocked off of Quess by the titanic kick, and suddenly a blackness more complete than sleep had taken it away. Out in the corridor, a few of the stone sentries were brushed to life when Mari tried squeezing through them; they grabbed and bit at the woman until her blade dispatched them, sending them back to their rigid state forevermore...and trapping her in their cold embrace, sealing the entrance to the burning room more completely.

(16:19) Sieghardt's charge was brought up short by the ghastly bulwark the undead had put in place, he paused for only the shortest of moments to remark on something you really didn't see every day."HOLD ON!" He roared, putting the bulk of his muscles to good effort and plowing hard into one of the statues, a dull CRACK echoing through the tight passage, partly from the petrified ghoul, partly from the protesting bones in his shoulder! The planted his feet with a grunt that rapidly degraded into a snarling roar of defiance against the stone blockade, with a grit of his teeth he shoved harder and felt the stone ghoul shudder, the thing's thin limbs cracked, spindly knees of rock crumbling under the mercenary's unwavering assault, bashing his pauldron into it over and over, adding the heavy pick-spike along the back end of his axe to the mix. "To the pits with this..." he muttered as he felt the stone ghoul buckle, leaning back,t he barbarian planted one of his steel-shod boots square in the battered stone guardian's chest with a sharp CRRRRIACK of stone that echoed over his efforts through the tunnels, and the zombie's calicfied corpse toppled over into it's nearest neighbor in the file behind it... which toppled to the next, like grisly dominos sieg's first felled beast opened a gap, which he proceeded to savagely widen.

(16:29) Carrigan Alexston suddenly found a benefit to not having a particularly wide body, boots carrying her behind Sieg. She didn't have the body mass to break anything, so she opted instead to use Sieg's size to her advantage. She balanced the quiver against the back of her hip, keeping it upright, and spurned her steps into rather more of a skip when she got closer to her brother's friend. She'd timed it as right as she could; a moment where his back was a little bent. She'd have to live if he assumed she was attacking him - as it happened, she was using him to vault the wall instead of concerning herself with futilely hitting rock. Her boot caught first against a zombie knee and second at the pit of Sieg's back, firm but not painful, and she flexed her body up and over with a smooth bend that grazed leather against the cave ceiling. She landed on the other side with a barely graceful roll, turning before she even considered standing past the dull throb in her knees. There wasn't any ranged necessity so far as she could see - arrows against rock was pointless. Once her eyes set on Naiia, the name left her lips again, though her movement over stumbled some for the first few steps. Note to self, Sieg-vaulting is not a sport to introduce at the next joust.

(16:33) Quess's sudden relief of pressure was unexpected as eyes widened at the sight of her rescuer, Naiia's confused stare and call for her sister bringing lucidity that she could again run to Maeryn's aid. The stone and fire was little deterrant either as the groggy rise of the girl was quickly flattened to the floor as feet entangled with the tatters of her dress. Quess had willpower in spades and proved it by not skipping a beat to raise to her fours to crawl just behind Naiia to reach the stone-shrouded friend. Phobias the least of her concerns, she tried to smother the growing flames with the same torn dress that felled her a second ago, uselessly coordinating her slender fingers to pry against the petrified creature with pitiful grunting noises. Open, damn you.

(16:38) Stephen Juntric followed lead moving through the now smashed zombies, Sieg so kindly moved out of the way. He pushed through the opening eye taking focus on the happenings. His focus lay on the movment of the women, Quess putting out a fire and the Princess laying trapped. With the hilt of his sword he moved over bashing as the stone zombie's arm.

(16:40) Naiia coughed on the smoke rising from Maeryn's dress, the stench of flesh beneath it, but between the pair of them, they managed to quell the flames. With a whimper, Naiia slumped against Quess, a sob choking through her as she joined at the attempt to tear stone away from Maeryn. "Wake up," she whispered. Only as she tried to grasp it with her heavy-gloved left hand did she realize the extent of the injuries, unable to close or flex it. It hung limp as her right pulled. A noise on the ground drew a low terrified whimper from her to Quess, and she turned, half expecting another of the undead to shuffle toward them, or one of the firey things to fall upon her, but they had fizzled and before her was the most welcome sight she could ever remember. "Carri," she whispered, tears streaming down her face. "Maeryn..she's.." Helplessly, she gestured to the stone limbs encasing her, nearly choking again.

(16:47) Drysllthen's party further back continued even as one of the guards ran back to report. The King's brow arched sharply beneath his helmet to hear that the things had turned to stone, and there was only a faint breath of relief to hear that they'd heard voices. His own echoed as he bellowed down the corridor. "Archers back!" It rumbled off the stone as his men lined themselves against walls, allowing the archers from the cave. Motioning a few more...stalwart men forward, they marched on, the King's quarterstaff at the ready to crush what remained. The way nearly cleared, he sent several men to free poor Mari as he pushed through the wreckage just in time to see Naiia's gesture..hear her words. The last flaming two were ignored, the King sliding down to his knees next to the stone thing, his chest rising and falling raggedly as he tore his gauntlet off to wiggle two fingers inside, seeking a path to her mouth..very faint breath spilled over them. "She lives.." He whispered to himself, bared hands suddenly grasp at the hardened limbs as fury roared through him.

(16:49) Tyltin V: In the midst of all the pushing and pulling, the once-living-dead statue began teetering threateningly...

(17:00) Sieghardt grunted when the Alexston woman used him for a glorified stepping-stool, gritting his teeth he simply muscled his way past the last one blocking his path in step with the King, and as the monarch kneeled the mercenary swung, the head of the first flaming zombie was not merely cleaved in two, but crushed down into it's neck, the creature flailed as the toxin coating hte blade made it's final moments of undeath an unbearable agony, kicking the smolder corpse over, Sieg backhanded the blade into the remaining ghoul's face, the backspike embedding solidly into the bone with a sickly-wet crunching sound, the zombie stopping in mid-lunge and simply toppling over with the grisly blade as a new hat, rubbing his shoulder, the big man gave Carrigan a stern look then moved to Drysllthen's side with the wounded Princess's fate on his mind; "My King, wait." he said reaching out to the trapped girl's shoulders, eying the creature's stone grip; "If the lady's ribs are broken, freeing her could only only kill her faster. We need a healer here before we dare risk it."

(17:02) Carrigan Alexston had been about to answer when the statue began teetering, mouth hovering open as she eyed it. She was fucked if she knew what to do - there was only one possible thing she could think of, so she unlooped the religious necklace that habitually hung beneath Derryk's. She slotted it off her neck and drew it off her hair, squeezing it into her hand and whispering a prayer over and over whilst she picked up Naiia's injured hand with the other to examine it. Her accent seemed to have thickened with the presence of distress, and she paused in her praying to shake her head some. "Mother'd have y'face off in one sentence if she was here," she muttered, letting go of her hand when Drysllthen's relief sounded. "This one's teetering," she told him. "What if they reanimate?" She caught the glance from Sieg but didn't really seem to give two tugs of a dog's cock about whether he was being stern or sashaying around like Julian in William's boa.

(17:06) Quess felt the tentative hands over a large male pull her back so that more capable hands could take her place while securing the girl at the same time, despite her fighting against the fellow to get right back to what she was doing, oblivious at first that the new figures crowding around them weren't more creatures of death at first, kicking against his shinguards and clawing at his bracers to get free. The soldier took it all in stride as he tried to aggressively whisper she was safe now, trying to be gentle in his tight hold in fear of injuring her further. Realization snapped to her when the tears, ash, and blood in her eyes allowed the face to match the voice of the King a few feet a way. Maeryn and Naiia apparently were still alive... the cavalry had arrived... the evil quelled. She started trickling into absurd hysterical laughter, drawing ever more limp into the soldiers arms as he tried to quiet her. Other soldiers meanwhile took to prying Mari out in similar form to those attending to Maeryn, but were obviously all ears on the planning out how it was best done.

(17:10) Stephen Juntric had been bashing away at one of the zombie's arms that held the Princess, Seig's words were a little to late. He would stop though looking toward the King. He certianly didn't want to cause more injury, relived the women were alive and they had gotten there in time. He stood moving back and sheathing his sword.

(17:13) Drysllthen's hands only crumbled dust from the stone that encased Maeryn, and it was the rumble of the monster-slayer that drew his head up, his eyes worried and thoughtful. He seemed to see nothing before him, vaguely hearing Carrigan's question. "We can't stay here." He began quietly, looking between them both. "The healers are back at the castle, and staying here only increases the danger." The tottering of the thing that held Maeryn seemed to snap it all into place. "We carry them encased. We have fine stone workers at the castle that can get them out, and healers too." Words came out quickly, breathlessly, a glance spared for Naiia and Quess though all he could see was the stone and blood that was his sister. "Keep men around us that are armed with the poison. Sieghardt and I will take Maeryn, and take however many men you need to get Lady Direnni." He nodded to one of his personal guards. "The rest of you seal the entire cave system off until further orders."