Shadows of the Ancient Empire

[Sir Kerag]

Once Kerag was satisfied with the stillness of the murky water, he continued to walk the bridge, humming a cheerful tune to himself, proceeding further into the mist, it curling and obscuring the path behind him, and making it difficult to see what was ahead beyond the dimly glowing stones at the end of the stone bridge.

[Margrett]

And a relic is somehow more powerful?

This hallway was long, and they could see that the room at the end was slightly better lit than the previous one.



Kerag hears another noise behind in, in the fog. A wet, slippery sort of sound.

[Sir Kerag]

There was a wet, slippery sound behind him, not far from where he just was when he jerked his head around, hands tightening around the axe. He couldn't see far into the fog, but regardless he didn't like it nor did he consider it a good idea to go investigate. The longer he was in the chamber the more he thought something was wrong. Wasn't quite sure what it was yet, but he continued to walk the stone bridge, checking behind him every few steps or so.

[Alec]

"Is everything about martial power with you?" Alec asks, exasperated. "No, it'd be no more powerful than a regular sword today. But it is a piece of history. It is the perfect expression of a warrior's purpose - function meeting form in a gloriously beautiful blade fit to be worn at the hip of the most brutal of barbarians and most regal of knights alike." All this, recited almost trance-like, cradling the blade reverently. "I know you are no metal mage," Alec says, meeting her eye, "but as a warrior, can you not feel the blade calling to you?"

[Margrett]

As Kerag walked, the sound followed him. Every few steps he could hear it. Joining it were...whispers. In a language he couldn't understand, behind hm. Up ahead, he could see the outline of another door up ahead, out of the fog, more well lit than the room he was in. The whispers were getting louder.

Margrett kept walking, reaching the Quarters room. This one was huge, easily four stories tall, the ceiling barely visible above him. The room was split up into small apartments by walls that went up one story. It was a little bit like a labyrinth, but much more neatly laid out. Looking into a few rooms, the furnishings were nearly rotted away. She shook her head.

Weapons are tools. A means to an end. The only thing I feel when I look at my hammer is sentimentality.

[Sir Kerag]

Kerag's spine tingled as the sounds came closer. He growled and tensed, heart pounding as he broke into a run, moving as fast as he could across the bridge, one hand outstretched ready to grab at the door. The whispers haunted him to no end, and though he was willing to face any foe; he wanted out of this room bad!

[Alec]

"That's what I'm saying," Alec tries. "It is a tool. But a tool that has been perfected through the ages. It does what it is meant to - that is, bite flesh, and beat bone. But it looks damned good while it's doing it, too." Shooting her a look, he grins. "Not unlike certain hammer-wielding Captains of the guard."

[Margrett]

Kerag reached the end of the bridge, the sounds right behind him. He ran through the doorway, into another much smaller room. Right next to the doorway on the inside was a large metal switch, connected to a chain that led up to the metal gate over the doorway. It was obvious this switch would close the door.

Margrett stopped and regarded Alec coldly.

Flattery, Alec? Really? In here?

[Sir Kerag]

The sounds quickly became too close for comfort, rushing inside the smaller room, his glowing eye fixed on the metal switch. He grabbed and flipped it, letting the metal gate down over the opening. The orc rested his hands on his knees, taking deep breaths, fixated on the gate, hoping it would hold against whatever was coming for him.

[Alec]

Waving his hand, Alec meets her gaze. "Hardly flattery. Flattery implies dishonesty in the compliment. My mind wanders, sometimes, and sometimes, it wanders to strange places. Don't take this for me just trying to get in your pants, it's not that at all. I just seem to like to compliment you at all the wrong times." He shrugs, waving the rusty blade around. "If you'd like, I can stop altogether." Walking forward a few steps, he holds the blade before him, and cocks his head. "To save the orc, shall we? Or is it time for a deep and meaningful?"

[Margrett]

Something dark and slippery smashed against the iron bars just as the gate fell, its screeching sounding like the whispers he'd heard, but angry and harsh. It bashed up against the gate twice, then backed up, hissing, hesitating a moment, then slipping away into the fog.





Margrett stared at him a moment, then the edge of her mouth curled into a smile and she turned, walking deeper into the housing.

No, keep it up, I like the attention. Maybe you'll get somewhere eventually.

[Sir Kerag]

He wiped sweat from his brow, mouth open astonished by what he'd seen crash against the bars, the thing that stalked him in the mist. He breathed a sigh of relief, thankful for the contraption. He thought it best not to dwell on the monster for too long, turning around to inspect the room.

[Alec]

"Well, that's encouraging. Don't get me wrong, it's not my goal to get you in bed," Alec says absently, following her, "but I certainly wouldn't have a problem with it, either."

[Margrett]

The room Kerag was in was obviously a store room of sorts. There were a few blue columns of light in the room, and suspended in the beam were suits of armor and clothing of various styles and uses. Some of them were corroded, but some were in good condition. There was a door that led further into the murky depths on the far wall.





Margrett stopped again, looking back amusedly.

Really?

She gave him a once-over and then turned again.

Neither would I.

[Alec]

"Is that based purely on physical merit?" Alec asks. "Merely curious," he continues, waving the rusty blade around absently but still somewhat cautiously. "A tumble's a tumble, but I'm never one to complain if it's more than that."