Hallows Eve The Veil Falls

For the Halloween event 2020

Smiling One

Heartbreaker and Life Taker
Banned
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Willis was almost certain that this was a competition like in Loot Runners. But given Kiros' confused glance it looked like he wasn't aware. The young man crossed his arms frowning, speaking of Loot Runners there wasn't any sign of that crazy old Wizard. A sudden chill ran down Willis' spine as his heart raced just a bit. "You know what?" Willis said staring at Kiros. "This isn't a contest at all, ah shit fuck me for assuming."

The young man stared at the ceiling sighing heavily. "You know Gods!" Willis shouted. "If you wanted to fuck with me could you at least gimme something nice? Like a beautiful girl or a land full with Gingerbread houses and the rivers flowing with chocolate please?"

Willis shook his head. "Kiros want to join Lazule and I?" he asked.

He had a sinking feeling that he wouldn't like what he'll find down there. Thankfully he can use the big guy as a shield in case things go pear shape.
 
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Farzad Oldsummer

Dungeon Delver D.D.
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As the limelight of fire was slowly catching it's breath in cold dead embers he looked to someone a little more battle hardened then himself. A lot more battle hardened. If he was to be frank, the man had the look that he had walked through pandemonium barefoot. And only gave it a two star review in spite. "Thank you my good man. Answering questions is likely going to be on the agenda tonight. Glad someone knows how to answer them." Farzad replied half chidingly to everyone else, but rather thankful to the man in question.

Next, he was approached with possibly the most direct man he had ever met.

"My name is Lazule. I do not know why anyone is currently here. I know how I arrived here and I assume it to be the same for all others present. I have not heard the word 'ghoul' used in that manner before, and thus I am insufficiently equipped to comment on it."

...


"I intend to ascend the stairs and discern what is causing the creaking sound. Will you accompany me? I require light to be battle effective."

Farzad tapped the giant of a man on his back the best he could manage with such a frame in the way, "My dear ally. I'm glad someone has a sense of adventure in this impending doom." Farzad stated in reply, picking himself up and dusting himself off of a copious dust that had settled on the floor than attached to his knees. "And what a budding pair. As my First Rule of adventuring goes. If you can cast magic, find someone that can cast fist." He said solemnly as he took in a deep breath. Really admiring the landscape as the world seemed to expand, the darkness itself consumed with more light than he assumed he had made before old hardman chipped in. "Ah well. Let me ask you. Have you ever been to a strange house and not gotten into a fight?" Farzad inquired with a voice that talked with a little too much experience on the subject. "Because I'll tell you. The most boring ones never fi... This is almost feelingly like I'm incriminating myself into robbing houses." He cut himself off, shortly. "Lemme rephrase. Let's be ready for a fight." It was short. Sharp. Simple and honestly should've been what he opened up with.

Than came the young girl. She had propped herself up to fall if he was to term it. Her voice rang with the confidence of a sick donkey. But so often do the weakest seem the most determined. Farzad couldn't help it. He liked it. Determination was half the gambit of life, and facing defeat with it seems the best way to live. Even if for the millionth time in his life, this seemed to be he last adventure. He would at least face it with determination.


Green as a legume but as sincere as one too.

Farzad was does that mean?

Yes.

He mused shortly looking at the staircase as he had managed two steps towards it. Hopping the Giant would follow. Or at the very least follow. As he was hopping the red and gold wizard who had planted himself at the staircase just before would do. Farzad needed some personality to accompany him. But he seemed to be a little... Wizard-y for Farzad's taste. Booksmart. That's the word.

Green as a legume but as sincere as one too.

Farzad where did you hear this?
Crystal Ball.

The man hadn't even talked and Farzad had already ascribed it onto them before the third one propped themselves up. An Elf. He was certain. A soft voice of reason in a house were only calamity and confliction was seemingly brewing.

Green as a le...

Shutit Farzad.
...Fine.

Than came the fourth, and by this point he was done. No one had actually walked up the stairs. Too busy arguing with each other. By this point Farzad was four fifths of the way there and was getting tired of waiting. He didn't talk. He didn't bother. Everyone seemed too busy on their own thing. Some people wanted to stay. Some people wanted to discuss things. The monster hunter for some reason forgot Farzad was involved and declared him and Lazule a team up. Farzad simply walked to the steps. Put a hand on the sincere elf's shoulder and pulled down his masquerade mask.

It was warm. He was warm. The soft glow of magic seemed to dance and create shadows for the elf, accentuating every crevice and curve of fabric in their clothing. The incantations shifting and forming as the wafting of incense refused to back down to the bleakness of despair that had washed over everyone. That smile. His smile. That one that said, I
t'll be alright. Without ever parting lips. His eyes seemed unphased, still passing the spectrum of a rainbow by the odd movements of magical tides as a strand of a midnight blue hair fell into his face, the tip turning verdant green as he tried to comfort without a word passed. Instead he slid them across with a soft gentle touch. He took in a breath of the musty air. He strided forward. One step at a time on old wrinkled floorboards. An adventure always began with one step. Farzad seemed to be the first.
 
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Kiros Rahnel

Outcast Priest
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Her face went flush with red, her heart was beating rapidly, ”we certainly should look upstairs, but as I am a trained member of the Guard I’d ask that all civilians stay close.” It would be difficult to protect anyone if people began running off on their own.
Turning to face Colette, his expression changed to concern as she continued on; a young woman with tone and body language that screamed her lack of confidence and experience. His expression transformed into dismay as she spoke her brazen plan and nearly stepped off the moment the suggestion left her mouth. About to speak, he was gratefully interrupted by the older Anirian first, grizzled in tone and posture. A sharp contrast to the lost looking Colette. That someone put forth a plan was a good thing indeed. The plan put forth, far less so.

Listening on, his expression relaxed as Thorne talked the woman down, speaking with the wisdom of an experienced soldier. He looked around; he and this Anirian seemed to be the a fair bit older than most aside from perhaps the elves. One of which was simply sitting down and seemingly, simply waiting. A short moment after, the other elf snarled out her offended protest, causing the Zier to finally rise from his chair with the first words he’d spoken thus far.

"Okay... I don't understand the issue? He wasn't undermining her worth in any way. He was simply saying, and I mean this in the most respectful way I can, that we don't follow a visibly Anxious person literally into the dark."

Given Sylvian's offended tone, he worried that verbal defence might not quell her mood; if not, he hoped explanation would. Turning to Sylvian, Kiros began to speak after Zier’s words concluded.

“Please understand; their candid tone may appear rude but it’s simply how soldiers speak in times of concern. Looking out for her is his kindness.” They already had uncertainty; the last thing this assorted group needed was internal friction. He hoped his words would reach receptive ears, though hearing an elf defend an Anirian in the first place had been a bit of a shock. It would probably be best not to tell her of Vel Anir while the need for teamwork remained...

“Further; we are but a group of strangers. We risk planning without knowing what utility we all bring.” He added, his tone a bit louder and addressed to all present. Granted, he knew Willis’s capabilities firsthand. And could take an accurate guess at Lazule’s. In Thorne he could sense wise pragmatism; and mentality tempered by similar harsh life. Yet he knew little else about him or any other, and doubtlessly the same likewise. He was just as foreign to him as they were to him.

“I am Kiros."

"Healer and holy mage.”
he spoke his brief introduction loud enough for all to hear, then awaited their response. He could add that he was a monster hunter; but he knew full well how green he was; it was a role he had only taken on recently. Besides, Willis was present; Kiros could hold confidence that said role was well covered.

Willis was almost certain that this was a competition like in Loot Runners. But given Kiros' confused glance it looked like he wasn't aware. The young man crossed his arms frowning, speaking of Loot Runners there wasn't any sign of that crazy old Wizard. A sudden chill ran down Willis' spine as his heart raced just a bit. "You know what?" Willis said staring at Kiros. "This isn't a contest at all, ah shit fuck me for assuming."

He looked at Willis as he crossed his arms, eyebrow raised in confusion until the concern on his face caused Kiros’s expression to take on a look of sympathy. It was an empathetic one; Kiros hardly felt wise at the moment himself, considering the mistake brought him here. Willis's confession did take the sting off that slightly. His futile shouts at the gods brought some hidden amusement; and despite his holy nature Kiros would give no concern or offence. An attitude he could sympathize with but never express.

He gave a nod at Willis's request to join them and looked to Lazule, armoured and standing just taller than he did. A teammate he liked, for reasons Farzad would articulate; these two warriors were a blessing to have.

If you can cast magic, find someone that can cast fist." He said solemnly as he took in a deep breath. Really admiring the landscape as the world seemed to expand, the darkness itself consumed with more light than he assumed he had made before old hardman chipped in. "Ah well. Let me ask you. Have you ever been to a strange house and not gotten into a fight?" Farzad inquired with a voice that talked with a little too much experience on the subject. "Because I'll tell you. The most boring ones never fi... This is almost feelingly like I'm incriminating myself into robbing houses." He cut himself off, shortly. "Lemme rephrase. Let's be ready for a fight."

And he knew well the value in more traditional magic. Farzad was definitely odd, and his words meandering, but he made sense...eventually. Not a skilled orator, but neither a fool. Unorthodox perhaps, but well prepared. Kiros could only question his earlier jaded judgment.

“Of course; let’s be off.” He affirmed with a nod, taking his staff up in hand as he took a step up, ready to ascend with the rest.
 

Lazule

The First Slayer
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Lazule parsed the wizard's response to his inquiry. And it was a peculiar one to him.

Farzad tapped the giant of a man on his back the best he could manage with such a frame in the way, "My dear ally. I'm glad someone has a sense of adventure in this impending doom." Farzad stated in reply, picking himself up and dusting himself off of a copious dust that had settled on the floor than attached to his knees. "And what a budding pair. As my First Rule of adventuring goes. If you can cast magic, find someone that can cast fist." He said solemnly as he took in a deep breath. Really admiring the landscape as the world seemed to expand, the darkness itself consumed with more light than he assumed he had made before old hardman chipped in. "Ah well. Let me ask you. Have you ever been to a strange house and not gotten into a fight?" Farzad inquired with a voice that talked with a little too much experience on the subject. "Because I'll tell you. The most boring ones never fi... This is almost feelingly like I'm incriminating myself into robbing houses." He cut himself off, shortly. "Lemme rephrase. Let's be ready for a fight." It was short. Sharp. Simple and honestly should've been what he opened up with.


A sense of adventure. Lazule did not have such a capability, only the five mundane senses made available to him by virtue of the Unknown Warrior's body. Impending doom. Lazule could not discern if this was evidence of divination or a figure of speech. The wizard had a set of rules concerning adventuring, the first of which baffled Lazule. A question about strange houses. There were the set of houses in which Lazule had slain monsters and the set of houses in which Lazule had not, but he recognized that he was a poor judge of their strangeness. Incriminating himself. Almost. It did not matter to Lazule if the wizard did or did not burgle houses--rectifying that was outside of his Domain.

There. An answer Lazule could--and indeed--nod to. Let's be ready for a fight.

Lazule turned to follow Farzad. Heard and understood that a question had been directed at him specifically. A slight turn of his helm toward Thorne. And he answered, "Violence is all I know."

Perhaps that would change. Caliane had shown him a new Way; a Way whose effectiveness was still in the process of being proven. But at present his answer remained true.

Lazule followed after Farzad. He overheard Willis asking another man, identified as Kiros, if he would join them. Kiros assented. Good. All other conversations and proclamations taking place in the main room of the mansion were irrelevant to Lazule. He was going upstairs to investigate the creaking, and he would have gone alone if that was how it needed to be. The noise was possible evidence of movement. Movement of something living. Something living of possibly being a monster. And Lazule would do what was demanded of him if such was the case.

He would not allow another Gordon. Another failure through inaction.

Lazule began to ascend the steps. Passed by Colette without looking at or speaking to her. If Farzad slowed or stopped in his ascent, Lazule would simply pass him by. As it had been with the Amalgamation, Lazule preferred to be in the front--regardless of the outcome.

The pronged feet of his armor thudded on each step.

And soon he reached the second floor of the mansion.

Smiling One Farzad Oldsummer Kiros Rahnel Thorne
 

Smiling One

Heartbreaker and Life Taker
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"Violence is all I know."

Willis gave a hollow chuckle at Lazule "that's one thing you and I have in common big guy," he said holding to the hilt of Cutlass. Willis had grew up in a place accustomed to violence, saw horrible things done to people when he was a child. Even killed his person when he was 14 years old when he pierced a sailor's throat with a Crossbow Bolt when he and Captain Davis' crew raided it merchant ship. The wizard who was tapping on Lazule's armor mentioned a sense of adventure. Something that made Willis' heart swell with excitement. If there was one thing Willis liked more than women, it was adventure.

"Hey," Willis said at the wizard wearing mismatched clothes. "Don't chip the paint job, people worked hard implementing it on the big guy."

The young man then rolled his eyes. "In my experience," he told the wizard. "The first rule of adventure is to always keep moving, you never know where you might be swept off to."

He nodded at Kiros and smiled. "So folks," Willis chuckled rubbing his hands. "What are we waiting for? Discovery awaits and those who get in our way, well may the Gods grant them safe passage in the afterlife." Willis turned to the wizard. "Name's Willis by the way," he said following Lazule up the stairs.

Willis carefully sidestepped Lazule's lumbering armored body, the last time he went up the stairs the big guy came tumbling down on Willis wrecking his back. The young man could feel his spine tingle remembering the pain. Willis looked at Colette giving her a smile and a wink while he watched Lazule's right flank. "I guess you take point." Willis said to the armored Lazule.

Lazule Kiros Rahnel Farzad Oldsummer
 

Caliane Ruinë

Angel Nuke
Staff
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Outside the wind began to howl and batter at the house as the storm rose. Only the sickly eclipse light shone through a dusty window pane to illuminate the second level, throwing most of it into shadow.

As the group ascended, there was an odd snuffling noise and a small shadow on hurried feet parted from the hallway into the third room down.

The sound of childish laughter came in the opposite direction from the shadows.
 

Colette

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Colette looked up in awe at the gruff older gentleman, named Thorne, who had placed a hand upon her shoulder and ordered her at ease. She wanted to inform him that it was her solemn duty to ensure the safety of all civilians within Anirian territory and while she wasn't entirely sure where she was at the present moment she was positive she had disappeared in Anirian territory. Instead she gave him a simple nod.

With a warm smile cast towards Sylvian she ignored the 'visibly anxious' quip that came from the other elf and simply offered, "right. We should all be very cautious." Her words rang out right as the hulking piece of armor, the priest, and the man calling himself Willis all proceeded up the staircase.

Colette followed rapidly behind, knowing that she'd likely face a disciplinary hearing if she allowed any of these non-combatants to be injured. The wooden steps echoed throughout the grim house as the guardswoman avoided using the railing which seemed to be coated in dust and cobwebs. The sound of twisted wood was so loud as the multitude of footsteps ascended that she could just barely make it out in the background.

However faint and quiet it was an obvious sound she hadn't heard in some time due to her military service.

Joy. Childlike and simple. High-pitched giggling emitted from the lungs of small children. What were a bunch of kids doing in a place as horrid as this? Despite the near pitch blackness and the shadows moving along the far wall Colette knew that something needed to be done.

"There are children here, we must save them!" she shouted in a rasping panicked voice. Whatever figures those shadows belonged to didn't matter. What was most important in the here and now was the safety of the innocents along the far wall. Stumbling up the rest of the stairs she rushed forward.

There was no hesitation to her movements, she barreled directly forward in the direction of the laughter.
 

Farzad Oldsummer

Dungeon Delver D.D.
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Farzad turned to the dark hued man, raising a finger, "Ah yes well. I tried that rule. I found it didn't bode well with the snake's. You know they can only see when you move?" He rebutted he was at the top of the stairs now, the snaring darkness lashing and whipping at his body, trying to consume and take his shape and form in unending umbral tides. But he didn't relent. His form refused, his voice beaconed through the darkness without pause as slowly light began to shine, shadows illuminated in the soft glaring light of that gorged moon.

"Oh right introductions are a thing." Farzad stated, he was still at the top of the stairs as slowly people began to converge up them. "Farzad. Farzad Oldsummer. And I am but a humble civilian carpenter." He lied clearly and without regret, tapping the butt of his staff at the bottom of the stairs. It creaked. It moaned. It groaned. It done everything but seemingly stay quite. He could say the same for the house really. "This house. Needs repairs." He mused wistfully, Lazule and Willis were at the top by now, Farzad was happy to let them take point. If he was being frank. He didn't exactly need to lead the party. He simply needed to get their asses moving. He had achieved that quite well he thought. And as he was about to take a step with the holy mage it happened.

That. Whine. That childish giggle. In the shadows. In the dark shadows that formed beneath that watching moon. That waxing. Watching. Waiting. Moon. He could feel his every bone and muscle tingle as the guardswoman rushed forward. It was a trap. One that he knew he was about to be suckered into.


It can't be.

But what if it is?

It shouldn't be.

But it could be?

We could die.

Has that ever stopped us before?
It was that line alone that made him decide. He wouldn't leave the child. On that tiny fraction, that sliver. He knew it was foolish. Hell he knew this entire group would think him a fool. But than came rule #8. Don't worry what other people think. That was it. If he gave two damns what they did he wouldn't have gotten half as far as he had, and only been a quarter as happy as he was this day. He'd rather die and be wrong. Than survive and be right. He rushed right beside the passionate young lady. Better in pairs at least.
 

Thorne

Dread Hunter
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"Thank you my good man. Answering questions is likely going to be on the agenda tonight. Glad someone knows how to answer them."

Thorne gave the mage a nod. He wasn't generally much of a talker, but given the circumstances and the...ragtag nature of present company, somebody had to be able to provide clarity.

“Please! She’s doing her very best.”

This gave Thorne pause. On one hand, it was...slightly endearing? On the other, it was almost patronizing to Colette, and worse, a dangerous mentality. Alongside appreciated affirmation from the tall, redheaded elf, Thorne quipped back in a flat, gruff tone.
"Effort is not tantamount to survival, my lady."

“I am Kiros."

"Healer and holy mage.”
Hmph. Identities. The old soldier did believe that a certain level of trust would need to be established if the group was to escape whatever this place was alive, but...if the guardswoman knew he was a fugitive, things could get messy among them. They didn't need, nor did he expect them to understand the context. A fake name would serve fine here.
"Lieutenant--former Lieutenant Benjamin Mercer, of the Anirian Guard. Retired." He lied plainly. Perhaps the others might take some small comfort in knowing they had someone with the confidence of a military officer among them. The rank was accurate, of course, just not the name nor status.

"Violence is all I know."
"What are we waiting for? Discovery awaits and those who get in our way, well may the Gods grant them safe passage in the afterlife."

Gods above. The one called Lazule was strange, but the sentiment was relatable. What Thorne didn't like was his extremely narrow focus. One could lead a violent life and still stop to think about the consequences of one's actions from time to time. Then again, if he was strong enough, perhaps he'd reached a point where he felt he no longer needed to.

The other one, however, was wholly unspectacular in appearance, and was disconcertingly confident and jovial with the situation at hand. He felt like this man, this 'Willis,' was likely a lunatic thrillseeker to have known what he was getting into and followed a spirit into this strange, foreign land anyways. That mentality made him a liability if he couldn't match the gusto with skill and ability.

Thorne stuck behind the rest of the group as they ascended towards the next floor of the house. The ominous sounds and glimpses of movement were setting off silent alarms in his head. Everything about this was screaming that some sort of trap lied ahead, be it from predatory beast or sadistic spirit creature. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was off, or at the very least observing the group.

And then the guardswoman just...ran in. Headlong. And the mage, who'd seemed rational before, rushed in beside her. So much for caution.
"Wait!" He called after them, slipping a hand beneath his cloak to grasp the length of chain holstered beneath. They were going to get themselves, and perhaps everyone else, killed for certain.
 

Sylvian

Snow White
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I might have been a little harsh, the elf reconsidered silently; in the end she meant no harm. Her eyes dug into Zier, sapphire orbs swallowing up his appearance until her features visibly softened once more. Another mouse? Her eyebrows arched slightly in surprise, but she merely gave him a smile. He was youthful like the human girl, and of elven-kind. Sylvian rarely saw children and although this one was still different from herself, she felt a sense of understanding towards the little one.

When Kiros’ words reached her, Sylvian merely gave a nod. “I understand,” she spoke quietly and looked at the human. He was aged in comparison to others present, but by no means old. His voice was that of reason and when he introduced himself as the healer he was, Sylvian suspected that protecting him was in her best interest – the elf could barely heal herself after all. Lastly, Sylvian turned to Thorne. “I will remember that.” She smiled. It’s not the Avariel were experts in survival to begin with – all they’d done was fly where no one else could reach and hide until the world had forgotten about them.

Sylvian could learn a lot from these people and she would keep her eyes wide open.

The group motioned to proceed up the stairwell and to the second floor of the building. On their way another person – Farzad – stopped by Sylvian’s side and placed a hand upon her shoulder. Unlike his, the elf’s body was cold to the touch. He radiated warmth and although the man did not speak, the woman couldn’t help but smile at this act of what she assumed to be kindness.

“Thank you. I'm Sylvian."

As the elf headed up the stairs, she gave a quick introduction following Farzard’s example. “It’s good to know your company,” she concluded and glanced around at the others, many of which she hadn’t properly acknowledged yet. Once upstairs, Sylvian peered into the darkness. A child’s laughter erupted from the unknown, and noticing how visibly affected some of her fellows were, she uttered a sigh and raised her hand. In between her delicate fingers a long spear of ice formed from magic and as the other one lifted up her long gown, Sylvian took a step forward.

“If there were any children in this house with us, they surely wouldn’t be laughing.” Sylvian said with a flat voice. Then she gracefully threw the spear into the darkness (in between Farzad and Colette so it wouldn‘t harm either of them) where it shattered into a thousand frozen needles.

Offense is the best defense after all.

Colette Zier Xya Zythos Farzad Oldsummer Kiros Rahnel Thorne
 
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Kiros Rahnel

Outcast Priest
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“I understand,”

He gave a polite nod at her reply, glad for a kind response. They may be able to organize themselves yet, he hoped.

A steady pace took him up the stairs, a bit lighter in step after Willis’s reaction eased his attitude from its former self-bitter state. Kiros well needed it. With confidence in his team and focus on what lay ahead, he continued up the stairs; preparing himself mentally for whatever challenge may surprise them. He was hardly expecting a fight himself. Yet; though he hadn’t been keeping count, he felt fairly certain that he had gotten in far more fights unexpectedly than otherwise. His musing mind came to an abrupt interruption when Colette rushed past at a full sprint; accompanied by Farzad alongside her.

"There are children here, we must save them!" she shouted in a rasping panicked voice. Whatever figures those shadows belonged to didn't matter. What was most important in the here and now was the safety of the innocents along the far wall. Stumbling up the rest of the stairs she rushed forward.

There was no hesitation to her movements, she barreled directly forward in the direction of the laughter.


He paused in stunned shock as the two rushed on. Lazule, by his earlier stated requirements, would be required to follow. He held little doubt that Willis would do so without hesitation as well. He was familiar with the man’s nature; perhaps a concern at first, but he handles things well. But the other mage was an unknown. And he feared what problems Colette's unrestrained impulsiveness could bring.


Hearing Thorne’s unheeded protest, Kiros turned to face him from his location atop the stairwell wearing an expression of disbelief and dismay. Without words, it was a look that shared his dire concerns; that this junior guardsman would spark the cause of their deaths. It lasted for but a pensive moment before he could allow himself to remain still no more. He was determined to provide some sort of intervention; the impulsive group rushing headstrong into danger required it. Turning about, he steeled himself and rushed off after the two with urgency.
 
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Lazule

The First Slayer
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Willis spoke a phrase which meant that Lazule should take the lead. And he had intended to.

Yet the situation changed once Lazule reached the top of the staircase and observed his surroundings. He had not seen movement around the third room down the hallway, but he--like the others--heard the sound. Human children. Laughing.

Before Lazule could do anything, Colette the armored woman ran forward. A noteworthy resemblance between that woman and Lazule's old body, Lena. If Colette had a missing right eye then the resemblance would have been even greater. Regardless, she had run forward. Charged with righteousness in her action.

The wizard--Farzad--also began to run forward. Alongside Colette. Lazule did not quite understand why he did so or why Colette did so. The sound of laughter was not indicative of danger or of someone in danger. Lazule had concluded that it had been another person, like himself and all the rest of those gathered, who had been brought to this mansion by the Pstyxia. Likely the first person, given that they had time to come up here and that their presence was previously unknown. Lazule had not yet determined if this unknown person was the source of the creaking, so while possibilities did remain, no monsters as of yet had been positively identified.

Then Sylvian--the elf--said something. Something that suggested she had more insight about the laughter and the present situation than Lazule. Something that suggested a power of discernment in this matter that Lazule lacked. And she was convinced. So convinced that she launched a spear forged of ice ahead of Farzad and Colette, penetrating the darkness with it.

Her conviction was enough for Lazule. He stretched out his right hand and in it--drawing from the fleeting light from Farzad and the pale light from the dusty window--manifested his Lance of Light. The weapon extended a full eight feet in length (possibility to become unwieldy in tight quarters, Lazule noted) and it glowed meekly, seemingly to fizzle and disappear briefly before reappearing in sporadic spurts. Though forged from the weakest kind of light for his Luminomancy, it would have to do.

"Thank you for providing the proper insight," Lazule said to Sylvian. Thorne had had a similar reservation, but did not share his elaboration on it as she did.

Where Colette, Farzad, and now even Kiros had gone at a run, Lazule walked forward at a steady pace. The exact location of the possible monsters had not yet been determined, so haste was unnecessary. Meticulous, relentless hunting was demanded.

To Willis, Lazule said, "The rooms need to be checked. We do not know what lurks in them."

A fundamental of hunting a monster that has occupied a building. Buildings were environments of tight spaces, sharp corners, and doors. And it was a mistake to advance forward, thinking one's rear was secure without having made certain of it.

Lazule approached the first door in the hallway, having to hold his Lance out to the side parallel with the hall such that it might fit in the confined space. But if there was something behind the door, all he needed to do was sidestep to his left to remove himself from the doorway and present only the sharp edge of the Lance to anything that might leap for him. A sort of horizontal guillotine.

Lazule lifted a foot and roughly kicked at the door in an attempt to aggressively open it.

Caliane Ruinë Colette Smiling One Sylvian Thorne Farzad Oldsummer Kiros Rahnel
 
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Zier Xya Zythos

Let's Be Honest, My Title Is Dumbass.
Elbion College
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Another mouse? If he could read minds, he'd be very angry at that comment. This Avariel is too damn condescending and she's almost unabashed about it.

Zier was, happily, the last one to go up the steps. He was in no hurry to get snatched by whatever was up there. Midway up, he heard the laughter of children. Now, he is somewhat of ab idiot of he'll admit that, but even he knows that this is a red flag. Fuck are children doing here? Playing tag and hide 'n seek with the spiders? Speaking of idiots, which he would've announced to her if this wasn't a group setting, Colette dashing off literally into the dark.

He reached the top just in time to see Farzad and Kiros run after her. Then, snow white over here hurled an icy spear at absolutely nothing, presumably striking a wall and shattering, which made Zier jump slightly.

This whole situation made him smile. There was certainly nothing to smile at, but he's in complete disbelief at the lack any brains this team this. Again, he'll gladly acknowledge that he failed several Elbion classes but common sense here says that they shouldn't make impetuous decisions in a dark house with strange shit going on. At least Thorne tried. He likes him because he's not an idiot.

Lazule also prepared for a fight, but he was more cau... never mind. He's kicking open a door. He hopes thst Willis shows some common sense as well. Zier is absolutely not following them unless he needs to, so he's going to take a more calm approach at this. Conjuring a tiny flame on his hand, he strolled away from the stairs, careful not to stray away from the others, and further into the second level to examine what's exactly up here. They might as well know about the house they're trapped in.
 

Focraig'Diin

Ice Mage Archivist!
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"Ha... ha... MRGH!"

He had to struggle to not throw up on the door of this... haunted house. By the gods, no matter how much he trained up his mental and physical fortitude, he couldn't stand the blowback of any teleportation, even on a good day. And it was during the Lessat Eclipse of all times, when his magical and mental strength was supposed to be at an all-time high. At such heights he could stand using a magick that could potentially attract the likes of the Herald; surely simple teleportation was not beyond him, was it?

Some Aeonic Cryomancer he was. But the sensation was still there - what felt like a literal hole in his soul, a numbness in his heart; tell-tale signs of the eclipse's influence on his magic and mind. It was... unique, how it reacted, how he reacted to the celestial phenomenon. Any observer, even in the house itself, would feel a subtle chill, of how their shadows somehow seemed darker from the corner of their eyes. Focraig's own eyes were no better - where they only glowed when he was actively using magic, now they were perpetually alight in a cerulean eclipse. A haunting image, only enforced by his nigh-constant choice of dark robes and fur coat.

He'd be lucky if he wasn't mistaken as a wraith of some kind, especially with the chill emanating from his very self. He had quite a lot of such misunderstandings during previous eclipses.

Holding the Necolumerce Amulet like a lantern, its pale blue light a small reprieve from the odd darkness around him, the mage cautiously opened the door, only to find a slew of activity already beginning without him. Tsk. Just like him to be late to a soiree, or whatever this little gathering was. But he wasn't so late as to miss the cause of such activity. The sound of a child's laugh, the way those stairways revealed themselves...

Bother! He should have brought more company than a possessed amulet. The groups had already moved on ahead, the mage following them as to not bring up any sense of alarm. He did not like how fearsome some of those looked, especially the one with the mask - it reminded him of Traecon, specifically when the warrior would literally be alight in heat. Taking his time, each step on the worn wood beneath him begot more creaks, other than those sounding upstairs.

He saw one of them fire an ice spear into the dark, and another try to kick down a door.

Here goes nothing....

"Hello? I appear to be a little late to this gathering. Would anyone be generous enough to... enlighten me of this place?"
 

Caliane Ruinë

Angel Nuke
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"That wasn't very nice."

The voice belonged to a young girl who had appeared in the frozen doorway where the Avariel's ice attack had landed. She was dressed simply for the times; a dark plain dress cinched in at her narrow waist. Her hair was done neatly into little bunches done up in black ribbons. One bunch hung lower than the other. Freckles dotted her flat nose and her eyes stared hard at the newcomers. In one hand she clutched a knife that dripped with blood to the floor.

"You shouldn't be here, Daddy is going to be very, very cross when he comes home," for a moment her face was one of fury and then it broke into childish glee. She began to laugh, a high-pitched giggled that suited the playground more than this house.

"Oh! I do hope he lets me help this time," she fingered the blade calmly, watching the group.
 

Farzad Oldsummer

Dungeon Delver D.D.
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Farzad was halted in his tracks. He was a little gobsmacked. Honestly. He wasn't ready for... this. Sure there was the part of him that hoped. But how often was he wrong. In this. Exact scenario. It was always! It was never this. It was never the child actually there. His eyes narrowed. As if the fact that he was right was an omen in and of itself. As if this, wasn't what was meant to happen. It wasn't. It shouldn't. It couldn't. It. Can't.

Farzad brought a finger to his lips, his momentum thrown at the windo as he stood still. It was ominous. Weird. But than again, so was this whole house.
"And... I am going to guess here. Throwing the hoops as I believe you young kids say." He inquired, getting on his knees to reach eye level. He was still a good length away. He was hoping far enough away. "You won't tell me daddy's name?" Farzad furthered his line of questioning. He was right. He was certain he was. Sure he was already wrong once. But surely his luck couldn't make him accidentally right twice.

"Even for... A toffee... Apple?" He pulled it almost magically, in fact magically, out from a pocket of his bag and offered it to the child. Candy always works. So this couldn't. He was honestly hoping it wouldn't so he could eat it. The... thick slobs of caramel goo so close to dripping. Damn it say nooo....
 

Colette

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Colette had given a nod towards Benjamin Mercer, perhaps he could provide some advice as they searched for a way out.

But at present she was charging in the direction of childish glee. This place was no place for some lost child. They might be laughing now but there was something off about this place. Something she couldn’t trust as the disrepair, shifting shadows, and odor of death painted a grim picture.

She heard the calls to wait from retired lieutenant Mercer but they went unheeded. The chill in the air as Sylvian’s ice rocketed passed did give her pause however. Magic? These folks possessed magic? That prospect stopped her in her tracks. Magic was unstable and untrustworthy, it’s why children were inducted into the Dreadlords back in Vel Anir. To keep themselves, and everyone else, safe.

Yet in this house there was unmonitored magic being flung around all willy-nilly.

A feeble figure’s soft voice interrupted Colette’s terrifying realization as an adorable little girl stepped forward. Her freckled face reminded Colette of her younger sister and... why did she have a knife?

”Hello, is this your home?” she asked, ignoring the toffee apple sleight of hand the oddly dressed man had just performed. ”Um, I believe we are all just a tad lost. Is your father going to be home soon?”

Despite the small girl’s appearance there was something about her that didn’t sit well. It gave you a frog in your throat, a weight in your tummy, and a chill up your spine. That was all before Colette had noticed the blood dripping from her knife. Pooling onto the splintered creaky wood.

”So, uh, did you... cut yourself accidentally?”

The guardswoman audibly gulped as her flesh started to pimple in nervousness.
 

Caliane Ruinë

Angel Nuke
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The little girl giggled once more and then moved.

It was inhumane really, the speed at which the creature moved and suddenly... changed. The girl was no longer there but what came forth now was what appeared to be a large tongue. It lashed around the forms of both the kindly, old wizard Farzad Oldsummer and the young naive guardswoman Colette and hurled them into the darkness of the room beyond.

The door slammed shut behind them barring the others from entering.

Please continue as a Loot Runner style mission - kill the Epigone and then ping me for your next segment.



At the same moment, from the room which Lazule had thought empty for no monster had appeared at once, swarmed the snuffling creatures. In a frenzy they leapt upon the armoured man in their way and rushed the other two nearest them in the corridor; Thorne and Kiros Rahnel.

Please continue as a Loot Runner style mission - kill the sneezies and then ping me for your next segment.



Before the remaining group would be able to rush forward to help, the stairs of the old crooked house suddenly groaned and swung. Smiling One Sylvian Zier Xya Zythos and Focraig'Diin who were either still on the stairs or at the very top of the landing would now find themselves not on stairs at all. With an ear splintering creek of wood the steps turned into solid smooth wood, creating a chute that sent the group tumbling back down towards the ground floor.

Or at least, where there should have been floor. Instead darkness loomed towards them and the group would find themselves vanishing into the basement level of the Haunted House.

The hole would close as the last of them vanished below.
 

Lazule

The First Slayer
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Many things happened in rapid succession, but it culminated in the room that had at first appeared clear being definitively not clear. A tide of creatures of varying size but all of similar kind spilled out and onto Lazule, this as he had glanced to the side to observe the "child" (Sylvian had provided insight, but a more proper term for the thing was still forthcoming).

Lazule was unable to do what he had planned, missing his chance to sidestep. So much in the manner of when he was swarmed by Risen at the Gates of Bhathairk, Lazule was swarmed here by Sneezies. He stumbled backward until he hit the wall to his back, the creatures snuffling and scrambling at his feet and at his legs and on his arms and his shoulders.

The irreality of the horde of Sneezies took effect immediately. Lazule's Lance, still held out to his right side, stopped flickering and began to grow brighter. Brighter. Dangerously bright. Lazule tried to will it to dispel but it would not--it was self-sustaining now. He was holding a bomb in his hands, his Luminomancy spiraling beyond his control, and soon the instability of it would cause a catastrophic failure the likes of which happened before during the fight with the Amalgamation--when his arm had been obliterated by his own magic. He did not have much time.

Worse, Lazule himself was a being of magic encased in a suit of armor powered by magic. The crystals of his suit began to absorb even the tiniest traces of light, charging the suit past the upper limits of its capacity. It would have given Lazule great strength and endurance...

...If he did not lose control of the body he was piloting.

Lazule was in truth a Life Fire, an artificial creation of life. A sapient magic Fire that had the ability to control a body if the heart of said body was removed and the Fire placed inside. The very air of Arethil was deadly to Life Fires as well, so in order to keep the Fire safe and placed securely in the right spot within the body, glass chambers could be used. Implanted into the chest of the body with the Life Fire contained inside.

And there came a loud POP and a shatter.

This the sound of the chamber containing the Life Fire of Lazule shattering. Shattering after the Life Fire of Lazule had also grown incredibly more powerful and brilliant with the presence of the Sneezies, causing what was once a small ball of blue-green Fire to enlarge, to heat up, to expand, until...POP.

Now the Life Fire of Lazule was loose inside the body of the Unknown Warrior, falling out of position of where the heart should be along with shards of glass from the chamber. And once this happened, Lazule lost all control of the body he was piloting, access to all of its senses, truly the ability to do anything other than think. Lazule was once again, by his own perception, merely a consciousness in the dark.

He did not know that his armored body had slumped down to the ground and that Sneezies were still swarming him.

He did not know that the magic Lance was still in the body's hand, despite having lost all control, and that it was slowly being primed to catastrophically detonate.

He did not know that he himself, the Life Fire inside the body, was also growing larger and larger, increasing the pressure against the tissue and bone and flesh and armor that where the remaining layers between him and the fatal exposure to the air.

Thorne Kiros Rahnel
 

Eren'thiel Xyrdithas

The Broken Sword
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Time seemed... slow.

Somewhere along the way... he'd lost track. He must have.

Their encounter with the werewolf - his friends and he - had gone awry. A creature the three of them should have easily bested had proven difficult, possessing abilities unusual to its kind. Abilities that had separated them. But there was an unspoken understanding between them, seasoned hunters of such things as they were: to regroup with the morning's light. One way or the other their immediate threat would be parted, if only for a time. But even then, the Spine was hardly a forgiving place.

But as he came there now, to the edge of a clearing blanketed in white, he looked up into the sky and beheld an awful truth. The morning's light never came...

For an almost solemn moment he gazed up at the spectacle of this misfortune. But even still, he had faith in his companions' own abilities, and felt no fear for their safety. He did however feel now with the realization of this happening, an uncertainty. All while he thought and felt his ears keenly listened, but nothing caught his attention. Nothing. That in itself was again troubling. His eyes fell back to the world, and he looked through the dim shroud with acuity - or at least, it should have been. Elven eyes were seldom made foggy, but through whatever dread that foul moon cast he could not see far.

But then, out there in the dark of the clearing, something, no, someone was shown to him...


… the woman, an elf he could tell, looked to him like a trick of the eye. But after several moments observing her he resigned that this was not true, and he was indeed seeing what he was seeing. She walked, paced almost it seemed, though leisurely. And all the while she seemed totally unaware of the creatures that were about her, one even slung over her shoulders. Curious things they were, casting glances even to he, meanwhile she seemed completely unaware of him. And as he watched her, he felt a... familiarity. He stepped forward, from what compulsion he did not even compute.

His eyes searched her over.

Another step, and carrying through, starting forward now.

He drew closer. Then suddenly, she turned. He froze. She looked, past him, through him more-like, and a pleasant smile took her features. He looked behind, and at first he saw nothing, but as he started to turn back he felt a rushing cold, and coming back around he looked to see her there with her hands clutching at her center, grasped around an unseen sword. She looked down at it, and back up at whoever it was he could not see here and now. Confusion and grief marred her face, and before she dropped to her knees her saw her lips move.

And then she fell into nothingness, disappearing. As she did, the creature on her shoulders leapt from it's place, it's feet found the ground, and it persisted while she did not. The other two did as well, and all three had turned now to look at him. Just at him.

For a few breaths they stood off. He uncertain of their next move, and they... motionless.

Then one started forward, before stopping to look back again.

They want me to... follow?

And so he followed them, and they led him through the shrouding dark, until soon they came to a place. There was nothing magnificent there, save for one thing. A strange rift, the likes of which he had never before gazed upon, lay before him. The first of the three creatures - unbeknownst to Erën, a Pstyxia - ducked quickly in through. The second, a little more casually. Then the third, the third stopped and spared him a final stare. This was a moment of decision, and it was one left to him alone. And then the third, it too entered in.


And with little hesitation, he too entered in to pass through the veil.

Caliane Ruinë

 
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Kiros Rahnel

Outcast Priest
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"Wait!" came his shout as he chased after both with bounding strides, all while Farzad made no attempt to halt Colette. While Kiros knew little of the house, the incantation of insight that brought him here told of it's supernatural nature if nothing else; He was fearful of what horrible things they might naively unleash. His first instinct, like any good mage, was to solve his sudden problem with a magical solution. Yet, his powers however were quite limited; he possessed nothing suitable to stop them. His conjured curtain of light would only bring a hald to one of them, enabling the other to their naive and impulsive action alone and without restraint

The only suitable means of intervention remaining was physical; that too was not an option. While hardly a slow runner, he was clearly unable to catch up with either in time. The realization put a sudden end to the pursuit after several steps, bringing him to a halt a few meters ahead of the others. Defeated and devoid of viable options, he prepared himself to protect the group from whatever unknowns may result from the consequences of their naivety.

During this futile attempt he remained unaware of Lazule approaching the door behind him, and the loud report of his foot striking the door caused Kiros to straighten up his posture in shock. Turning about, he gazed at the now-empty doorway, with darkness concealing whatever laid within. With his back towards the wall of the hallway, he merely watched on in a state of readiness when the words of children next caught his attention. He listened in great dismay as Farzad responded to their threat with an offer of candy after having run headlong into danger. Maybe his initial assessment of the man was right, he reflected; his opinion shifting for the third time within only minutes or meeting the odd eccentric wizard.

Colette's naive response provided little reassurance, not that he had expected it to. With her and Farzad well ahead, Kiros kept his position and readied himself to conjure a curtain of radiance; it would buy them precious time should things turn worse. He was fairly sure they would.

He hated being right.

Heavy, stumbling footsteps preluded the noisy crash of steel against wood as Lazule struck the wall behind him, besieged with the sudden ambush of strange, two-legged, and large nosed creatures pouring out from the doorway he had just cleared. Lazule was clearly overwhelmed and scrambling beneath the sudden onslaught. He needed help, and Kiros had just the incantation; one that would multiply Lazule's strength and allow him to overcome them.

But before he could cast the spell the sound of shattering glass and the sight of Lazule's body falling over, limp and inanimate, put an end to such plans. It was too late; lifeless, he had no more strength to multiply.

And yet, without wielder, the lance continued to grow brighter and brighter. Brimming with magic. Far too much magic, increasing in scale without control. And this was but one of two problems suddenly befalling him; more of these horrid things were racing straight his way.

Desperate to save this entity that he had only just met, Kiros was in despair at his sudden lack of options. Lazule was now unable to respond to any aid he might bestow. The lance lay motionless in his hand, continuing to grow in power and luminance. Threatening to bring an end to not just his life but theirs as well. If he was going to cast a spell, now might be his last chance before the sneezie's assault prevents his arcane concentration. Withstanding their violence would be terrible; but withstanding uncontrolled and unrestrained magic would be fatal.

It was a difficult realization for him to come to terms with. He held on to some glimmer of hope that there was some means of aversion to his death. It was a brief, panicked search that turned up only further desperation rather than answers. To dispel such out of control magic would only hasten it's arcane detonation. He truly had nothing further to help, holding neither magic nor means to prevent the end of a life he had meant to protect; hardly moments after he had silently sworn to upon meeting him.

But there was nothing that could be done, and he could only come to the distressing conclusion that he had already failed.

Lazule was dead. And further; Kiros would have to ignore him in his final moments.

He would have to make a regrettable choice.

Bracing himself for what had to be done, he prepared his spell with care, but haste. With his staff held forward and a briefly uttered Kaliti prayer he cast the spell, conjuring forth a radiant curtain of bright shifting light. Far beyond it's usual luminosity, and shifting far more rapidly than it out to. The curtain cut diagonally through the hallway in an instant, leaving Lazule and the sneezies swarming him on one side while Kiros and Thorne remained on the other. The result was a shock to Kiros; he knew his magic well. It was limited, but it was predictable. It was constant. It had never behaved like this at all. Now, it bathed the entire hallway in painfully bright light.

The oncoming sneezies gave him little time to contemplate why. As soon as his curtain had been conjured, Kiros took a few defensive steps back as they drew near. Holding his staff by the end, he gave a heavy swing along the ground and struck one across its side with a sickening thud, and enough force to launch the creature against the wall. But it was only one of many, and before Kiros could swing his staff again he was overcome by the others, knocked clear off his feet as the pack overran him.

Thorne Lazule
 
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Sylvian

Snow White
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Sylvian froze.

Her ice spear shattered, but the noise created by the impact was lacking, muffled even. As if it had landed somewhere far away, much further than here, at the end of this building's very hallway. Her eyes narrowed and the elf’s lips formed a thin line. A twist in the corner of her mouth, and another one tingling through the fingers of her sword-hand hinted at unease, and Sylvian took a step backwards.

The darkness was unsettling.

Then, a child emerged from the doorway. Her voice was corrupt, that gleeful smile a lie and nothing about this creature appeared genuine. Maybe it was the rarity of elven children – their birth came with so much appreciation and happiness – that Sylvian knew this wasn’t one, and never had been. But much to Sylvian’s dismay, the humans did not see what she saw.

“Please, you mustn’t–”

Everything happened so fast. With intensity and high speed the monstrosity revealed its true form, only to swallow both the gentle wizard and Colette whole. “No!” She cried out; a second ice spear had formed in Sylvian’s hand, but before the elf could even take aim, the ground beneath her very feet disappeared – and she fell into the darkness.

Then, in very anticlimactic fashion, Sylvian’s lithe but tall frame came crashing down on the basement floor and the elf groaned in pain. “Shit.” She cursed, muttering a few more profanities under her breath. Sylvian propped herself up and nearly sobbed at the stupidity of it all: what good were her wings if she forgot to use them in the right moments? Disregarding her own failure, Sylvian acknowledged that there were more pressing matters. The Avariel looked around, searching for any injured in need of help. It seemed that a few others had taken the fall with her.

“Is anyone hurt?”

Smiling One ; Zier Xya Zythos ; Focraig'Diin
 

Thorne

Dread Hunter
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Such were the consequences of charging in to this situation blindly. Thorne could do little but watch as Colette and Farzad were pulled into a room by the child-turned-tongue as his attention was near instantly pulled to the sudden stampede of snuffling creatures plodding towards his own group. For all the impressiveness and majesty of Lazule, the armored giant fell impossibly quickly without hardly putting up a fight. Worse, his weapon seemed to be on some kind of magical overload...if these nasal nuisances didn't kill the lot of them, that lance almost certainly would.

Kiros' spell was timely. Dividing the sneezies' numbers in two would obviously make them far more manageable, but limiting the space Thorne could work with as well as cutting him off from getting to that lance might prove problematic, given time. Regardless, the old merc decided that he would deal with what he could right now, and that meant saving Kiros from being overrun like Lazule had been moments earlier.

He quickly pulled his chain from beneath his cloak, leather straps holding it in place coming undone in a swift motion, then allowed it to unfurl. A quick vertical swipe of the hooked end caught a sneezy by the eye socket and turned it into a makeshift bludgeon, the critter sounding its pained protest by way of a high pitched honking sound. Thorne then lashed the counter weight and sneezy bludgeon at the few that had begun to maul Kiros, knocking them back.

Finally, Thorne stepped in front of Kiros and spun both ends of the chain as rapidly as he could in front of him, forming a whirling wall between himself and the priest. A few sneezies attempted to barge through, only to be swatted aside by the chains and smashed handily into the wall of the house or curtain of light that split the room.

"On your feet! NOW!" He shouted at Kiros, whipping the weight end of his chain in a slightly different angle to stop one of the larger sneezies from approaching. "That lance looks like its about to blow. If we don't want to go up with it, I'm going to have to be able to reach it."

Unfortunately, that meant that they'd either have to clear the room of these creatures first, or Kiros would have to hold the remaining sneezies at bay somehow while Thorne worked his own brand of not-magic.
 

Farzad Oldsummer

Dungeon Delver D.D.
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It was as second. A single fleeting second he had to react. That tongue. The floorboards felt like the gums and the walls like dirty rotted teeth that had closed them in. It was him and the guardswoman now. And he had one second. He raised a hand, and brought the toffee apple to his mouth. If he was going to die here, he wasn't about to give this brash tongue the satisfaction of his toffee apple.

"Ahsonofabitch!"

He screamed as he was tossed to the other side of the room. All and all it went about as well as he expected, the large shape smashed into his body, the feeling of warm saliva attempting to ruin and garnish his paper in it's sickly smell. He could feel it, his quarterstaff may have held, the buckles and rivets of metal done their job to maintain shape but the weight was too much. The wood had splintered. At least it meant the tongue had the displeasure of splinters in a small section of it now. He was in a haze as he watched it, that subtle motion tasting and gorging itself on every flavour of the air, each miniscule drop relished as it swayed back and fourth. "Ok... Okay Collette. Gonna call you Coll. Maybe Col." He sputtered and spat, he was harshly winded. "Gonna need you to cast fist..." He hesitantly got up. It was slowly seeping in. The darkness. The cold cruel darkness of the world. He hadn't noticed it earlier, but his incantations had brightened the world, and that tongue. It had licked off a small portion of ink, a tapestry of smears now laced it's tongues and his magic was losing it's potency.

The tongue slathered again. He may have been tiny, but magic was the key. Oh Eleth... Did it get my Toffee apple? He whined as it came back down, the thing lashed with much more force, he almost saw the magic and limelight cursed and caught in a tendril of saliva that splashed against creaking floorboards, now swole with his own magics. He braced his staff, metal braced without a bend, but he felt a splay of splinters this time smack into him as he was cracked into the wall. Though this time, he made his own purchase.

Reality had a funny way it did. When something goes up. It must always. Always. Come down. And as the beast slapped his body and rose him high, he came back down like reality dictated pressing the splintered wood and heavy metal down onto the middle of the tongue. It was a loose pinning. But he had made some purchase, legs pressed with as much might as they could as they held to a slippery ground.
 
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Focraig'Diin

Ice Mage Archivist!
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He didn't even feel the world drop out; just one moment where he felt weightless, almost as if he defied the natural laws of the world. He had been about to take to the steps themselves, and then,

"Wait whaaaaAAAAAAAAAA?!"

And down he went, sliding down into god knows where.

He hit solid earth about a minute later.

"Ow."

It had to be on the bone. Grumbling up a storm, he rose to his feet, rubbing the aching tailbone with a chilled hand. Pain alleviated for the time, he glanced up to see he wasn't alone, at the bodies thrown beside him. But what concerned him was the area he had been dropped into. This frigid temperature he was used to, but the eerie nature of this place was quite unnerving. He'd been to alot of places, but a living house? One that moved and contorted itself as it wished?

Oh yes, he was not about to have a good time, he was sure. What light was provided, it hung by the ceiling like a torchbug, faint and weak. Lifting his amulet, providing a mite more illumination, he patrolled the general area, taking care to avoid the others who had fallen in with him. Other than the wooden ceiling, he couldn't see beyond. He hadn't any cantrips for night vision, which... was amateurish.

He took a closer look at the source of light on the ceiling.

It was a lantern, covered in metal and translucent glass that obscured the light source within. 'Yes, Magus Obvious, and the floor is made of floor!'

Ignoring the voice, he circled it once, twice. Then backed away, a little concerned. Every now and then it pulsed, three times in the circles he had walked about it. A systematic rhythm... like how an organ would function... He crossed off the suggestion it could be a heart - what kind of horror monster would show such a weakness this early anyway? But clearly this metal container housed an organ, or something similar.

But what? He was very tempted to prod it once or twice.

Then he heard more stirring, and not taking his eyes off the light source, he called out quietly.

"You're finally up?"