Fate - First Reply On Ancient Crimes and Modern Consequences

[Samara Asenta]

The black pools of Samara's eyes shot open wide as the Horrors visited the pair with skeletal hands and piercing screams. She could see the bony tips stretch out toward her face. Feel her body tremble in Cauldwin's cloak from the pain and dread that flooded her senses.

Breath was expelled from her lungs when her valiant, black knight bent over to draw her away from the grasp of the dead. Samara drew in new breath and turned her eyes forward, down, and then to Cauldwin's side to observe the latest level of the Abyss to which they'd sunk -- a living, waking nightmare.

The philosophical or metaphysical natural of the place hardly mattered. With the shrill shrieks it was impossible to think. Scarcely possible to know they needed to get out of there as fast as possible, but Cauldwin managed the fleet of foot. Until even darker appendages lashed out at the man's legs from the liquid that surrounded them. Samara hadn't even noticed it until their progress showed obvious signs of slowing. The sound of the black fluid being thrashed by his weight had been drowned out before it began.

As Cauldwin struggled, Samara knew she needed to act. Only the Dark Elf found she couldn't conjure the dark powers that had shown themselves earlier. In fact, even the voice of Dshara had been strangely silent the entire time. Since the cell where the man found her. With no blade, Samara found herself without any means to help the man that carried her through the endless terror that surrounded them. All she could do was lay there in his arms. Her teeth clenched in response from being so useless.

Light shone in the dark ahead suddenly, which drew even her eye. It hurt to look at especially the closer they came to it, but it had to be a way out. It couldn't be worse than where they were now. Even an end would be a tender mercy. Cauldwin's progress grew ever slower even as he fought all the more against the tide of darkness and despair around them. "You can do it, Cauldwin. Your strength is greater than these pathetic shadows. This isn't the end." Words of encouragement were all Samara had at her disposal. Hopefully they were enough even from a tainted Vampire like herself.

Samara gave a choked cry as her eyes squeezed shut from the light that engulfed them. It truly had been blinding as her light-sensitive eyes were bleached by the veil they tumbled through.

Once they landed, the Dark Elf lay still in Cauldwin's arms with her eyes still shut. The ghost of the light still flooded her vision even with her eyelids firmly closed. Silence, however, reigned; the pain in her ears diminished rapidly unlike that burned into Samara's eyes.

Cauldwin soon stirred even as he continued to hold her close. Samara's breaths were slow, but shallow for a time. Even when he spoke, the Elf didn't open her eyes. "Where are we?" she asked quietly. "It doesn't feel like... before." It was too peaceful. Too serene. Even the very air around them was light and swept over them as a sweet caress. Part of the Elven woman felt afraid to open her eyes even as the echo of blindness began to fade from the insides of her eyelids. The place felt right, but at the same time wrong. If this was the place of Cauldwin's Warfather then Samara wondered what might become of her if they lingered too long.

Perhaps nothing. Perhaps everything. Samara didn't even fully understand the nature of what the Dark One had done to her soul, and what it meant to the vast cosmos -- if anything. But the darkness within did not like being there.

Cauldwin Talson Valfnyr

 

[Cauldwin Talson Valfnyr]

Cauldwin relaxed as he had a chance to go over the events of that accursed place in his mind. He knew what it was saying about him, but he refused to dwell on it. The past was done, he was something beyond a watchman now, and he had a new duty to fulfill. He knew this was a brief disinterment. The Warfather's direct intervention was always brief but potent. Soon, a tear would open and he would need to hunt the wounds heart, but for now they both had a moment to rest.

He pondered for a moment where they were, as this was far from the usual ordered, militant, blocky spaces of the rusted realm. His thoughts were interrupted however,

"Where are we?" she asked quietly. "It doesn't feel like... before."

Samara, he had forgotten he had been carrying her. Honestly, he wasn't entirely sure she was real in that place, but her presence here told him she was in fact existent. She wasn't the frail, damaged, naked, pitiful damsel she had been from before. She was the vampiric she-elf hosting the shadow-fiend from before. She was still wrapped in his fur cloak, but he couldn't tell if she was now clothed beneath it.

Initially he considered standing and dropping her on the ground, but for whatever reason he couldn't bring himself to act so coldly. Not when she held her eyes closed out of apparent fear of their surroundings. He answered her assuredly, "It's alright. It's a pocket realm or the like, the War-father aided us in our hour of need. But we can't stay here long, we must re-enter the wound soon. Can you stand?"

Samara Asenta​

 

[Samara Asenta]

A part of Samara, deep within in, thrashed at Cauldwin saying the War-Father aided them. It wanted to shout the deity couldn't be bothered to lift a finger to help anyone. That everything they saw and believed was a convenient lie taught to control the ignorant masses. Fortunately, the dominating hold that was present in the Wound didn't exist in this place. She could feel it and the desires born of it, but wasn't compelled to act by them.

With a soft sigh, the Elf knew standing with her eyes closed would just be foolish. Samara cracked her eyes open and the moment the light struck them the color was bleached form her body and the white rings in her eyes returned. She all but jumped out of Cauldwin's arms feeling the change wash over her. Her hand instinctively reached for a sword that wasn't at her side as she turned in place expecting to be attacked any moment.

When a Host of Angels didn't descend from above, however, Samara let out another sigh of a long held breath. A soft cough followed suit as she turned to look over at Cauldwin. "No Inquisition, but no masks either." Seemed someone or something didn't want to suffer Samara's lie of convenience -- that she was an ordinarily Dark Elven woman.

Slowly her gaze was directed toward the tree for a moment. Then at the relatively confined parcel of 'land' they found themselves on. Clear indication the War-Father didn't plan on them staying long. Suited her. Samara hid from what had happened, but she didn't hide from the world. Staying in a place like this would be a lie too far.

"I know you won't shed any tears, but D--" she stopped in case saying the name aloud might trigger something, "you know who won't help us with whatever is ahead. And She won't interfere any longer." Not that the Dark One had abandoned Samara forever, but Cauldwin's refusal came at a cost. Even if it was one the man paid gladly. "So, what's our plan?"

Cauldwin Talson Valfnyr

 

[Cauldwin Talson Valfnyr]

Cualdwin only stared vacantly at Samara as the color faded again from her skin and the white rings fromed around her eyes. Here we go again he thought, as she jumped from his arms. His fur cloak gifted to him by his charges in the Falwood fell to the ground. His brow furrowed, and in a quick motion he grabbed his helm and cloak up from the ground, placing the vissagesless helm again on his head and the cloak on his back. He then stood up.

He watched her reach for her sword. Strange, he bent the sword when it had become thrusted into him, but he never discarded it. Had she lost her sword in that hellscape? It was mildly insulting given the effort he had gone through to return her to relative safety, but it was irrelevant. The same as before he and her had a mission to see to. He watched her gaze move about as she studied her surroundings.

Samara let out another sigh of a long held breath. A soft cough followed suit as she turned to look over at Cauldwin. "No Inquisition, but no masks either."

He ignored this statement, as it seemed like more meaningless prattle.

"I know you won't shed any tears, but D--" she stopped in case saying the name aloud might trigger something, "you know who won't help us with whatever is ahead. And She won't interfere any longer." Not that the Dark One had abandoned Samara forever, but Cauldwin's refusal came at a cost. Even if it was one the man paid gladly. "So, what's our plan?"

He spoke monotone and directly, "So you've been saying, but given the course of this adventure: I would say it is likely we will see your goddesses' hand again." He said this, not fully knowing if he was talking to D'shra at this very moment. He continued, "The plan has not altered, reach the heart, then tear it out."

Samara Asenta​

 

[Samara Asenta]

Samara stared at Cauldwin for a moment before she reached up with her right hand to pinch the bridge of her nose. "That's... not a plan, Cauldwin. That's our objective." She sighed and turned to take a few steps further away from him. It wasn't like she could walk far in the War-Father's grand arena.

With her hands planted atop her hips, Samara turned her head to the right so Cauldwin was in the corner of one eye. "You went through all that trouble to save me back there, and we're right back where we started, aren't we? I want to help, but I can't begin to get close to you. Why did the War-Father even bother allowing you to bring me here?" With a snort she turned her face forward again to stare out into the distance.

Of course he didn't believe her. Samara just didn't know how to prove any of it. A voice only she heard wasn't there. Dark powers that manifested themselves or at her whim weren't manifesting. She wasn't doing whatever it was Dshara did when she took control. Everything she said was suspect because Dshara took control. And the worst part was the Dark Fiend's absence left Samara feeling small and vulnerable. The monster was always there and never gave the Elf a moment's peace, and now it was just... silence.

"Thank you," Samara called out without looking back at the large warrior, "by the way. I... Thank you." Expressing why she was grateful was too painful. To explain the agony that had been revisited upon her from the past hurt too much to think about, let alone speak of. Her voice grew softer by the end. The anger and frustration was just born of feeling adrift and unable to change had had happened.

Cauldwin Talson Valfnyr

 

[Cauldwin Talson Valfnyr]

If he could roll his eye he would, instead it narrowed in irritation, "When the enemy shifts and alters at every turn, the plan changes constantly and in accordance. There is no other long term plan possible of keeping beyond the objective." His posture became more upright, and his hands folded behind him as he said this. He watched her turn and walk away from him even further. Before she put her hands on her hips. He found himself staring as she did. He couaght himself in this and returned his gaze upwards before she turned to look at him.

"You went through all that trouble to save me back there, and we're right back where we started, aren't we?

Perhaps like some preditory creatures, her willingness to turn away from him suggested a level of trust. He took relaxed steps towards Samara, he affirmed and corrected what she had said and asked, "I did, but we've made progress. Wounds and realms can never alter positions, if that where the case I would be teleporting all over the realm to hunt my quarry." She continued.

I want to help, but I can't begin to get close to you. Why did the War-Father even bother allowing you to bring me here?"

What? She wanted to 'get close' to him? Was she still mad? His heart skipped a beat, something that if like some vampires she had an excellent means of detecting a pulse she might have noticed. He pondered that, he decided not to inquire into the getting closer part, "The Warfather is powerful, but not omnipotent. If you are borne from the dark, its likely he can't deny your access to this realm. I believe he intervened to help me, not you." He was standing next to her now, staring into the lights of the cosmos.

"Thank you," Samara called out without looking back at the large warrior, "by the way. I... Thank you."

Had she gone completely insane? What happened to the dark fiend he had gotten to know so well? He was completely unprepared for any form of gratitude. "I- Uhh- Your welcome. I wouldn't have left you there."
He stood there for a moment, just taking in the relative calm before the storm. Then a black pool opened in front of them. He looked at his companion.

Samara Asenta​

 

[Samara Asenta]

"I'm not--" Samara cut herself off and nodded slightly as Cauldwin pondered why the Warfather allowed the Dark Elf to linger. Borne of the dark? She wasn't borne of it. That said she was certainly enveloped by it, so there hardly seemed any point to arguing over semantics. It was curious Cauldwin thought the deity could not deny her access, however. Because of her nature? That seemed counter intuitive to what Samara expected once she discovered where they were. Surely the Light would expel the Dark from its presence... wouldn't it? Yet, obviously such was not the case. Though the Warfather wasn't exactly a shining beacon of Light. Perhaps a level of neutrality with a consuming desire for order (or battle of Light and Dark)? Perhaps Samara would ask later.

It was strange to hear Cauldwin say he wouldn't leave her there. Not because Samara believed him a monster, but because he believed her a monster. The hesitations. The looks. The throwing her through a portal that could have resulted in instant death... Yes, she hadn't forgotten that one yet. Despite all of that Cauldwin said he wouldn't leave her to suffer. Samara was grateful because she doubted suffering through that a second time there'd be a sane woman left to resist Dshara's will.

When the portal appeared before them, the Dark Elf drew in and released a breath. She turned to look over and up at Cauldwin with a smile. "Tear out the heart," Samara repeated the 'plan' with a slight nod. "Once more unto the Abyss, Cauldwin?"

With any luck when they jumped into the void they'd find themselves on the other side of the maze. Otherwise Samara felt she'd find need to discover some way of being useful as Dshara truly was silent; whatever dark powers were in her possession at times would likely be gone with such a strong rebuke. Samara wondered what Cauldwin had said this time -- and would be grateful if she knew it was refusing to turn the Elf over to the dark fiend.

Cauldwin Talson Valfnyr

 

[Cauldwin Talson Valfnyr]

He grinned behind his helm. As odd as it was, this host of corruption started to grow on him. Then again, she could be playing the long con. He would keep his guard raised just in case. He mused on something else however. He looked into the abyss, he still remembered when he entered into the world. When his fragile wraith was sent back into the world of the living, to the icy hellscape of his people's homeland... returning to life was a uncomfortable process. Being spit out of the black pool, twitching and jittering like an injured insect. Unable to think straight, unable to utilize his motor functions...

He giggled behind his helmet at the thought, he was like a roach without a head wasn't he? Missing his most important extremity, bleeding everywhere but refusing to die. Having a shell the was hard to crack, yet coated in the dark putrid places he dwelled. No. No, roaches don't fight dragons, cut through armies of the dead, slay vampiric lords, or act as the harbinger to dark gods. He was a lawbringer, THE Lawbringer. This was just another day, another operation, but with a new component in the mix.

He responded with some renewed spirits to Samara, "Once more through the flames." With that he inhaled deeply and took a step forward off the edge and into the portal of dark, sinking into it like a large pool of ink. He emerged on the other side to that familiar sight, the many log wooden plank bridges leading to the old toymaker's home, naught but the black void around it. Like many strands of silk leading to a spiders nest. The home was colorfully lit, he was eager to go, but awaited his companion to emerge.

Samara Asenta​

 

[Samara Asenta]

Samara stepped through the portal and onto the landing of wooden plank bridges. The change in lighting and decor took a second to adjust -- the Wound having a far more pleasant ambiance -- but otherwise the Dark Elf weathered falling into darkness as most did passing through a doorway. Popping into a deity of Justice or Light's realm was far more the jarring experience. There was something to be said of Cauldwin describing her 'borne' of darkness even if it wasn't literally true.

As if someone or something wanted to emphasize the point, a slender sliver of the Wound began to crystalize before their eyes just to Samara's left. It bent in on itself until it formed a long, slender blade of obsidian complete with hand guard. As it hung there at her side, the Elven woman reached out slowly to grasp its grip firmly in her left hand. A few quick swipes at her side followed suit.

"Thoughtful. Better if I wouldn't need it." Though who knew what lay ahead of them. As for the source of a sword being returned to her... Samara wouldn't waste time guessing. Maybe something wanted to make sure she'd be a proper threat -- proper entertainment.

Samara looked over at Cauldwin then. "After you." He was the one with the gauntlet of shadow-rending -- the pass card for this pit of endless suffering.

Cauldwin Talson Valfnyr

 

[Cauldwin Talson Valfnyr]

A sliver of the shadow crystalized into blade, samara reached out for it, "Don't touch it." He was ignored of course, as she took a few test swipes with it he replied simply, "What if by taking that you just made a pact with something?"

"Thoughtful. Better if I wouldn't need it."

He shook his head, "Forget it, it's too late now." He began to go forward, unsheathing his sword again and hoisting it over his shoulder. He was puzzling in his mind how impulsive she was, hypocritical perhaps, but it might be a good idea not getting to attached. Granted that's why his death goes unmourned, but in his line of work it might be for the best. No sense in holding on to anything that could be gone in a few moments, right?

"After you."

He replied in a tone that was hard to tell if he was joking or not, and not stopping his pace, "I was about to say 'ladies first', but alright."

Samara Asenta​

 

[Samara Asenta]

"Cauldwin," Samara replied patiently, "my soul's already claimed. If some weak evil entity wants to fight Dshara for ownership, you should feel sorry for them." After a moment she broke out in laughter. "I know how serious it is," she added with the mirth from the laughter slowly dying down as she spoke. "From personal experience. It's not that I'm not afraid, but I didn't feel the... attraction of a pact begging someone to claim it. I've felt that before. In other places I've visited."

"I'll be happy when this Wound is ended," she sighed. "Perhaps the woman this conjurer loved can finally find peace knowing their suffering has ended. Do you ever think about what it means to close a Wound, Cauldwin? What happens to the souls that formed it?"

Cauldwin Talson Valfnyr

 

[Cauldwin Talson Valfnyr]

He was reminded that Samara was a bit of a witchy woman, for all the untrustworthiness and chaotic malice of Dshara: Samara may come by a bit of that chaos naturally. Taking pacts and toying with powerful forces of any kind should never be done so lightly, even with divine protection. Though it might be calling the kettle black to say that she was overly impulsive. Despite having Samara grow on Cauldwin, he still had the gnawing concern that she may sabotage the mission. This feeling was not helped by what she would say next.

"I'll be happy when this Wound is ended," she sighed. "Perhaps the woman this conjurer loved can finally find peace knowing their suffering has ended. Do you ever think about what it means to close a Wound, Cauldwin? What happens to the souls that formed it?"

He knew exactly what happened to the 'souls' within these wounds. That which only exists because of these wounds are simply erased from existence with no realm to sustain them. Very much like fey creatures, when their home realm is irrevocably altered so to are the inhabitants. As for the lingering essence of those who had a corporeal from, they are irreversibly changed: corrupted. Closing the wound sends their souls off to roam or face whatever eternity they were promised for their actions. In not so rare instances however, a Lawbringer judges the souls.

The results can vary significantly: release, their soul will suffer eternal torture in the many wards in the rusted realms, or even conscripting them into a wraith to join the effort should they prove an exceptionally stabilizing force in the world. Cauldwin already had a few ideas for the soul of the old toymaker, if indeed it was his soul and not a representative corruption formed by something else here. After all, wounds are not always formed by a soul. As discussed prior, these places are abstract, non-sensical, and twisted.

A weighty enough deed alone can create such places, and not all wounds are outwardly dark. They are however a perversion of the natural order and a violation of reality that can spread. An existential threat that must be battled. That enough should be reason for anyone with a wish to protect something from altering unnaturally (like Cauldwin) to close these wounds, and an exceptional affront to a deity of order such as the Stríðsfaðir. On a more personal level for Cauldwin: regardless of what pity one may feel, a memory of time of those past overriding those who have yet to have their time is never acceptable. (OOC: for all the meta-pseudo-philosophical bullshit in these paragraphs it should be said wounds do not actually affect time, it's like a corrupted memory that turns into a pocket realm.)

He stopped in his tracks, and turned waving down Samara to halt for a moment, the bright colors that shown out from the toymakers shop behind him making his silhouette appear darker by contrast. Perhaps he would be ignored, but the existential threat these places posed needed to be addressed, then, he could explain to her what would happen to the 'souls' that dwell here.

Samara Asenta​

 

[Samara Asenta]

Samara watched Cauldwin as the man silently stalked forward. Despite being well-learned in mystic arts, matters of the divine were not her strong-suit. Metaphysical tears were theoretical at best and seen as some form of sustained spell that threatened the natural order. The longer they were here, the more practical her knowledge became and the less she liked them. The worst part was a certain evil goddess playing puppeteer and joy riding in her body. A dark reminder of the future that Dshara had in store if she got Her way.

The nature of the realm was better understood than its cause or its resolution by the Dark Elf. Given her circumstances Samara had spent time when not learning how to wield a blade studying corruption and bindings. This place preyed on the negative energy within them, or sought to turn it against them as it had in the maze. It only made her want to sever its connection all the more -- that had been a most unpleasant reminder of the past. There were no words for the suffering she'd endured at the hands of Dshara's imprisoned vessel.

Suddenly Cauldwin held up his hand, which caused Samara to come to a halt and narrow her eyes. The Toymaker's shop had begun to grow brighter, which caused her nocturnally adjusted eyes to begin drying immediately. Curse the foul beast behind this place conjuring light surrounded in so much darkness!

Slowly the Elf lifted her sword and leveled it horizontally with the tip forward. The flat of the blade rested over the top of her other forearm as she braced for battle.

Cauldwin Talson Valfnyr

 

[Cauldwin Talson Valfnyr]

Cauldwin took a step back, and spread the claws of his hand. The air around it seemed to distort and darken. In a single motion he ripped into the frame of the door before tearing it from its hinges before throwing aside. In the door frame was another dark portal. No, more like a barrier, a last ditch effort to keep them out perhaps. A low growl emanated from behind his helm. He then tore into the barrier like fabric and lifted the fold open.

Inside was an exceptionally colorful wooded toyshop, stocked on the shelves with a menagerie of toys both carved and stuffed. The area was brightly lit with many lanterns of various colored glass. Straight ahead was a counter with a green embroided cloth over it. A certain dry warmth emanated from the inside. It was deathly quiet however, and the storefront appeared to be empty. There were three levels to this place of course, if the heart wasn't on this one it could be on the next.

He backed away, still holding the tear in the barrier open and looked to Samara, he signaled with his right hand to head inside. If the contrast was now not so blinding she may notice his otherwise rusted plates had become a flat black, and he no longer cast a shadow. An indication he had become more incorporeal, and further evidence they were close to the heart.

Samara Asenta​

 

[Samara Asenta]

The Vampire's eyes slid over to Cauldwin. With a nod, Samara silently slid toward the tear with the blade ready to thrust into the first creature that assaulted them. A brief pause at the threshold followed so she could get her bearings followed by a quick step through the doorway. Being caught within the doorframe would severely hamper her ability respond to an attack; best to move through the choke point and remain primed.

The stability of the floor beneath her foot was tested for half a second with every step. Samara's head panned and her eyes swept the interior. Carved and stuffed toys lining the shelves had her on edge. If this were any other place she wouldn't assume they'd come to life and attack, but here? It would be more surprising if a giant hand crashed through the ceiling -- and that was also entirely possible in a realm that wasn't required to abide by physical law.

Provided nothing immediately happened, Samara would make her way toward the counter. She spared a look behind to make sure Cauldwin was able to follow and didn't show even further signs of fading. An unexpected development, which should would have inquired about only they were in enemy territory now. More so than before. One held in the throes of silence.

Samara could at least nod if the warrior awaited a signal that the room was clear -- for now.

Cauldwin Talson Valfnyr

 

[Cauldwin Talson Valfnyr]

He watched tensely, she was definitely the lighter footed of the two of them. If she triggered some kind of ambush or trap he was ready to rush in to her aid. After a few tense moments, she signaled to him with a nod.

Stealth was impossible for Cauldwin, he simply drew his sword in his left hand and walked inside. Every one of his steps on the wooded floor sounded like a hammer smacking down, CLANK CLANK CLANK. He looked around the room cautiously expecting the dolls stocked on the shelves to sprout claws and teeth then lunge at him. However it all remained still.

This location would have inspired some childhood nostalgia had this not been in the heart of a horrific realm, or had his childhood consisted of such things. He spotted a door behind the counter that he presumed led to a stair case. It was strange, whatever force existed here had tried everything to keep them out of this place. It sent monsters and formed walls around them but now that they were here it had not answered with anything but a barrier? He didn't like this.

He inhailed, given that if anything was here it probably already heard them or sensed them. He walked over to the door and opened it. Before ducking inside he looked back and spoke to his companion, "Shall we?"

Samara Asenta​

 

[Samara Asenta]

The lack of an attack was a welcome surprise, though the racket Cauldwin made was less so. That was part of why he'd held back? Made perfect sense witnessing it. It hadn't been a consideration earlier. Strange that the toymaker's home should seem so real. Was that an artifact of it being near or within the heart? A sliver of what formed it preserving even physical law? Or perhaps the void simply wanted armored people like Cauldwin sounding the war drums by traipsing through the place.

Tension drained right out of Samara when Cauldwin didn't trigger every alarm and have a horde of monsters pour out of every crevice. Bit hard to take caution and stealth seriously too with the racket.

"We've come too far to turn back now," the Dark Elf replied. They weren't here on a vacation, but then Cauldwin knew that better than most. "And we've been through too much to expect this will be easy."

Samara checked to see if the big man wanted to take the lead this time before she'd step through the doorway. Dshara, she prayed, please let the stairs be of finite length and actually lead somewhere. Preferably the second of three stories that would bring them within reach of the Heart. Not that she expected the goddess to answer; just a reflex action of a Dark Elf hoping for a good end to all this misery.

Cauldwin Talson Valfnyr

 

[Cauldwin Talson Valfnyr]

He gave a nod then ducked beneath the door frame into the dark stair way. He marched up the stairs which led to a second door at the top. He went to open the door, grasping at the ornate brass handle before quickly realizing it had been locked. He then forced the door open breaking the handle and opening the door which flooded the room with light from the second floor.

It entered into a main room, it had many traditional furnishings of elves native to the Falwood. The shine and craftsmanship or craftselfship was of an exceptionally high quality the complex engravings were done by the hands of a master. There were a few tapestries and tables around the area, as well as tall twisty bookshelves filled with colorful books. At the end of the room was the beginning of a hall which was flanked with doors. To the left of the hall entryway was a door in the center of the right of the wall.

In a second Cauldwin rushed to the door to the side and kicked in the door. Revealing a vacant storage room. He turned back to signal to Samara to move with him to the hall.

Samara Asenta​

 

[Samara Asenta]

Samara cursed inwardly. A dark stairwell followed by a burst of light from the second floor; just like the light from the first floor upon violating this Toymaker's sacred space. Did it know how sharp the pain was to her strangely-vampiric eyes? Was it deliberate? Probably not seeing how most lifeforms preferred a well-lit room. Just so happened the Dark Elf wasn't in that particular group any longer.

Just as soon as they stepped into the next room, Cauldwin bullrushed a door that led no where. Samara stared at the man without expression. Why had he done that? Could he make a little more noise? Sure his thunder-boots weren't assassin-grade, but... Ah, Dshara, the man was probably right. Kick in the door, find out if anything was there, and move on.

She did dawdle long enough to scan over the spines of the books on display and some of the woodwork, however. Samara was curious about the collection someone like this would keep. Not likely anything of a dark origin as this place seemed to be of a time before -- a pristine moment that they likely still believed to be reality. It made her fearful of how they might find them in the end.

Not to waste time, Samara followed Cauldwin to the hallway. Her blue eyes shifted from him to the length before them. One more level. Perhaps there'd be a bedroom down here and perhaps a study, or the heart would be upstairs... a workspace? Assuming the layout of the shop had any resemblance to reality past or present, and it wasn't some kind of stitched together monstrosity.

Cauldwin Talson Valfnyr