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year 5, quarter 3
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I've been screaming out a language that I never knew EXISTED before
Ashe gripped the dagger tighter and closer to her chest as Kefka would comment. "And one you shall not obtain," she thought as her lips pursed matching the fool's own pained expression. His theatrics wore on her ever thinning patience as the group of them stood waiting to figure out the statue's magical mysteries. She cursed at her own limited pool of black magics, and so stood silent as the boy asked for curative and wind magics simply shaking her head with two quick movements. Still her gaze never left the jester who had walked up to the statue and begun messing with the statue. "Stop!" she demanded drawing her sword in warning, but she needn't have. It seemed to be able to keep the jester at bay by forcing him away into a pillar. It was all Ashe needed to discount Kefka as a dumb insufficient adventurer and as one she would keep eyes in the back of her head for.
Still it seemed the woman and boy did not disturb the statue so as their magics brought the amulet alive and as it grew brighter and brighter until Ashe was struck by the blinding light and the odd rush of wind. It felt like a summer afternoon in Rabanastre as the sun would begin to set turning the blistering heat into a calm warm night. Dry but comforting like a soft blanket. The voice of a woman whispered in her mind's ear much different the blonde of her earlier vision. "Know peace?" she asked her voice shaking for the first time in forever. "Do you know peace if darkness has claimed your sanctuary, spirit?" A question that would not be answered as the sensation dissipated and Ashe came back to full awareness of the room
Ashe watched as the amulet fell and the circle was pried open. She moved toward it quickly grasping the amulet cold and lifeless off the ground before placing it in Arc's hand nodding at Cissnei. "Agreed. The amulet responded to your provocation, and thus you might be able to use it once more if the need arises." Ashe peered down into the stairwell as she smelled the stale dead air. Answers lie down there, but Ashe turned as the woman claimed she would stay behind. "Do as you will. I'll descend first. Shall you join behind?" she asked Arc
Ashe had taken one step down before walking back up. Calling over to Kefka she declared, "Leave or follow I care not what you do jester though I'd recommend the former. For now, I shall not bear my sword in your defense. My shoulders shall not carry the burden of your incompetence, audaciousness, or avarice. Your life is now your own burden to keep." With that she once more descended into the depth of the temple one step at a time with patience and planning. She knew far too well the dangers ancient tombs held. e
Arc smiled a bit when Cissnei lent her aid in this as he wasn’t entirely sure how this statue or anything of this all worked. Hopefully their efforts were wanting as he saw the amulet gleaming. Feeling the power behind the amulet, he wondered if this was truly working or if they were causing trouble. As a sudden pulsing power went from the amulet, a voice sounded in his ears again. The power felt like it embraced him, it felt... kind. A feeling he had never known. This time the voice spoke of trust and... something lurking? A blank stare from the boy to the amulet as he turned. It seemed like the others had heard something too perhaps? Considering how Amalia spoke, Arc understood that she had heard something different from him.
Thinking about this seemed a bit difficult, so Arc kept the words to himself and his heart as he thought on them. She places her trust... in me? The monk spoke to them, being surprised by the events. When he mentioned on taking the amulet and the others indicated it as well, Arc moved forward to pick it up, but Amalia had already taken it and placed the amulet into his hand. He was a bit surprised by the quick movements, but then started to study the amulet for a moment. He was not entirely certain what to make of it all, but it seemed they were progressing forward. "I-I’ll hold onto it," he replied.
As pounding and steps resonated through the place, Arc wasn’t sure if it was wise if the group moved forward without the monk, then again... The monk didn’t seem to know what was ahead either, the boy simply felt that the monk would have the best knowledge on everything around them. Amalia was already looking ahead. With Cissnei planning to stay behind and catching up later, he wondered how they would proceed. There did seem some danger following, but wouldn’t it have been best to face it together? Still, he could understand that the purification had its priorities.
Amalia started to ask if he would join after, Arc nodded his head, "I’ll follow after you." Looking at Kefka, he still couldn’t really make of the man in question. He had been rejected by the amulet before, but the youngster was not entirely sure if he was actually a danger at this point, but it appeared that Amalia didn’t like the jester in any regard as she called to him and moved forward.
Watching her descent, Arc held the amulet tight in his hand before taking a last look at the statue. Then he would follow after Amalia as carefully as possible. He had been through his fair share of temples as a Warrior of Light.
The magic hits the jester like a burning tidal wave, knocking him back in a painful recoil. As he staggers and curses, the others pay him no mind, collecting the amulet and looking forward. He doesn’t even have time to try to claim the relic for himself before the fierce woman has handed it to the child. As the woman shoots him a cold look, he can only stare at her, a flicker of fear shooting through him without his magic before he finally manages to yell something unpleasant after her as she begins her descent.
The stairs are cracked, worn, and unsteady. They extend for nearly three floors before evening out into a tunnel. This entry hall is framed in crumbling columns and worn murals of four adventurers on both sides.The light from above has quickly faded, and the end of the tunnel is quickly lost in absolute darkness. The distant echo of water reverberates off the walls. Occasionally the tunnels shakes, loosening gravel and threatening to bury them alive. Magic is thick in the air.
Beyond the inky blackness, the tunnel continues for some ten minutes before a wide double door blocks the hall. The door is framed in gold with no visible handle. Though quite heavy, it screeches forward if pushed with the right strength, opening into an altar room thick with dust and silence. As soon as they step foot in this room, torches along the eaves light with a flickering green flame in quick succession, casting a shrine in deep shadow. The same statue from above looms over a silver-lined sarcophagus that refuses to budge if pushed. An uneasy aura emanates from it. There are no further exits.
Below, the floor is split again by a purposeful crack that runs from the base of the sarcophagus to a cloister of stone pedestals that face it. These wide pedestals are raised barely an inch from the ground and match that which the statue rests on in a meditative pose. The amulet glows with a dull white light as it approaches the sarcophagus. An inscription has been etched into the sarcophagus: ’Find your peace, and may the gods judge you worthy.
Outside the tunnel, the stumbling footsteps echo louder as the woman and boy disappear down the stairs. The monk stares at the two remaining, the color draining from his face. ”You don’t have time for me!” he sputters before his eyebrows furrow. ”This is about the Crystal!” Should the two remain unmoved, he raises his voice. ”Just go!”
By the time that the others have reached the bottom of the tunnel and moved on, the shadows of the undead have already lurched into view. The monk goes quiet. As the first of the zombies round the corner, a dark aura seizes the air. The dark tendrils of magic that had creeps over the temple’s walls thicken to trail above it like smoke. The same tendrils surround the monk. His lips draw into a smile.
”You should have gone,” he says. He raises his head, and his eyes hollows out to reveal nothing but empty sockets filled with dark magic. His form flickers and then falls to reveal ghastly pale skin lined with purple veins. He has been dead for days at least.
”We’ve corrupted the Crystal.” Its voice comes raspy on a dried throat. The other undead breach the courtyard’s edge in a swarm of over a doze. More approach behind them. ”The earth will die unless its purified, but none of you have the peace of mind to manage it. And if it’s touched by impure hands…”
The opening to the tunnel shudders and begins to slide closed with the slow screech of grinding stone. ”She is the last seal against us. If that seal is broken, then we will rise. We. Him. I.” The monk’s lips widen into an perverse smile. ”The Lich.”
Cissnei simply nodded as Amalia picked up the amulet and handed it to Arc. Cissnei would have loved to keep the amulet and learn more about it. But she had a feeling that Arc would need it in his custody in order to complete the mission. Besides, Cissnei was no hero. The other two felt more aligned to the task than she. All Cissnei could do was serve as support and see what happens. She would need to survive to see the relics and gain information on this place through to the end.
Hands come to pat the dust off her suit and readjust her tie as Amalia and Arc descend down the stairs. After the amulet’s attack against Kefka, Cissnei moved to his body and laid him in rescue position so he was more comfortable on his side and allowed to breathe easier. She did not know if he was just unconscious or dead. But she did not have time to check. Whether he was threat here or not, was to be determined. In the meantime, she would not judge someone based on appearance alone. She had once served evil for the greater good of the people of Gaia. Who was she to judge regardless?
As she adjusts Kefka’s body, she heard the monk shouting and raving at her to go on. But she ignored his commands as she stood back up to her feet, shuriken in hand and fire pulsing around her fist. Her eyes were hard on him. “This whole time you seemed to know too little. I know when I am being used.” She had stayed behind on a gut feeling and the crystal’s warning. Cissnei had been used too many times.
Her heart leapt into her throat as the atmosphere grew cold and heavy in darkness. But little did this creature know that flames thrived in the dark, and Cissnei’s flame was burning bright. She stared deeply into its hollow eye sockets unflinchingly, absorbing its every word. Heart was pounding hard, but her flight instincts were weak. Every fiber told her to fight. Even if Cissnei could not defeat this THING here, the least she can do was buy time. Besides. She was sure she had seen uglier. “Oh yes. I figured that was you and your friends. You could not have made it more obvious. My true reason for staying was to keep an eye on you.” She said icily, but a smirk. Her palm ran over her shuriken to set it alight.
Cissnei prayed to the only embodiment of earth and life she knew. Minerva. If she was out there, please give her the strength to protect the land and its citizens here. This was not Midgar, who’s denizens she committed her life to protecting and enhancing. Nor was it Gaia. But she had found Tseng, and she was sure she would find the other Turks. She had to do what she could to contain this contamination and protect what little she had left. She was not afraid of death as long as she could protect her small group of comrades.
“She may be the last seal, but I will stand and protect it.” The materia in her gloves went alight and a soft air rose around Cissnei. A soft light sparked and lit around her before fading as she cast the Barrier spell. “I’m sorry.” She said softly to the statute as she began to use her gravity magic to tear down the pillars to fall on and slow the tiding swarm of undead. Then, without warning, she flourished her arm in an arc and sent her flaming shuriken flying true. The shuriken did not fly straight but arced around to try to hit him from behind. Cissnei took a forward assault, as she drew from the power of the magicite as it called to her. She charged the regen spell in her fist and aim to deck the undead monk creature in the face.
I've been screaming out a language that I never knew EXISTED before
Ashe carefully descended the worn and eroded steps as she descended downwards into the depths of the temple. Each step was carefully planned as she would test to see if the rock would slip from under her weight or hold. She could not afford to fall down for however long the stairs would go, not could she afford for those who followed to rush blindly into traps or sabotages she would have to deal with. As the light vanished as the descent took her deeper into the earth, Ashe produced a small flame in her hand that barely illuminated more than a few steps in front or behind. She turned to see which of the others had followed only to notice that the boy had followed. Well enough, although she would have preferred the combat prowess of the other woman, at least the jester had not boldly decided to follow where he was not wanted
"If you've magic to produce light, make use of it," she said turning the to show him the weakness of her flame. "My magics are not as potent as yours or Cissnei's appear to be. I may be able to light a candle or chill a goblet, but my strength lies in my sword and words." Ashe gave Arc a solemn nod as he now knew where her strengths and weaknesses lie. As she turned back, the earth gave tumultuous shiver which almost caused her to lose her balance. She grabbed the boy's shoulder to steady the both of them as the violent rumble ended as quickly as it began. "We go with patience,"
Ashe was more prepared for the following quakes and although progress was slowed, progress was made. The final step evened out in a hall of some sorts. Ashe quickly made a search of the perimeter for any monster or traps. Along the way, she would stop for but a second as murals of warriors were painted on the wall to make sure an esper or maligned spirit of the portrait's occupant would not ambush them. She passed quickly from a dragoon to a monk who looked much like the statue had to a more darkened knightly his armor of black and a sword of obsidian shade, and lastly past a figure of a religious looking figure, a sage perhaps before beckoning Arc forward down the long corridor.
At tunnel's end, Ashe found herself in front of a massive door. "How do you propose it opens? Magic once more?" She questioned giving Arc a look of perplexment as she studied the golden laced entryway. Ashe ran her hand cross the smooth surface of the thing looking for any divet or hidden mechanism to open the thing. Frustrated she leaned against it with her weight and felt the tiniest of movement inwards. "Help me push," she ordered as the small inch proved enough to stoke her fire once more. She ached and groaned as the door proved heavy and unwilling to budge but last they were able to slip the crack they had formed
Ashe would immediately draw her blade as the unsettling green flames illuminating the walls would burst into existence. She would hold her stance waiting for an onrush of enemies, but none came. Still uneasy she walked further into the room a feeling of deja vu running over her. It seemed they had stepped into the same room as above save for the sarcophagus in the middle of the room. "Could this be the very same monk's tomb as the statue?" she questioned stepping towards the coffin each step bringing her a more foreboding sense of unease. Ashe brushed the dust and cobwebs from the tomb's etching and read the words hoping for a name.
"Peace?" she said scornfully her nose wrinkling in anger, "How can one know peace, if one has no answers." She turned to Arc with a cold look, "Do you know peace?" she asked before turning from the coffin and walking toward the statue. She noticed the same cracked floor as above and looked at the dagger in her hand and at the statue before them as content as if this was not a dark dank tomb and rather a somber holy place. She twirled the dagger in her hand as she thought, "I can not know peace until I know I can protect that which I hold dear. I wonder if you would have felt the same." Ashe knelt and offered the dagger on one of the risen platforms and stepped back awaiting to see if their peace was the same. e
Slowly descending down the stairs, Arc wasn't surprised by the state of the steps. This place definitely didn't seem safe to wander around in. At least he hoped the stairs wouldn't crumble as they moved over them. While he watched the steps, Arc did try to keep check of his surroundings as well. Especially behind him at times to make sure no problems followed, also there was a chance that Cissnei hurried after them, although he didn't think she'd run down the staircase like a lunatic. However... the clown seemed a more likely candidate for that. Hopefully not bringing down the steps with him.
With the darkness slowly taking hold over the place, Arc noted a small light before him as he saw Amalia create a flame. Looking around, he checked if there was perhaps a piece of wood or something to try and create some sort of torch to give her. He didn't really see anything with the cracked stairs and stone walls. Plus, they were heading down, so he doubted there'd be a lot of trees in this direction. Nodding to Amalia who spoke on producing light, he was about to create a flame when she suddenly grabbed hold of his shoulder. The rumbling and the grabbing had him a bit shaky on his feet, but he tried to keep his balance as best as he could. Once stable, Arc created a ball of fire in his hand as well. “Careful would be best,” he nodded once again as he continued to progress downward with Amalia.
Coming down in the entry hall, Arc looked somewhat curiously around. There was a faint sound of water, so there might be an underground stream nearby. The hall itself held columns and some murals, nothing he could recognize, not that he anticipated seeing anything familiar to start with. Perhaps some image of the guardians or something. The shaking of the earth was a true problem with how cracked and damaged the place was, he could see some bits and pieces get loose in places that he chose to avoid as much as he could.
Moving further into the tunnel with Amalia, Arc did keep check both of the surroundings as well as again the back. He did hope to see Cissnei follow at some point, but he doubted she'd follow this quickly. There was also still the chance of Kefka following along, he couldn't place the jester in any way of what he could possibly want or plan to do. Seeing ahead the door, Arc came slowly to a halt for a moment as he tried to listen where the sound of water was coming from. Just in case they were moving towards the source or if it is somewhere at the walls.
Sometimes it could even tell of some secret chamber if he went after the sound. Arc noted then that Amalia beckoned him to come closer as he followed while listening to her query. Looking over the door, he tried to use another Study, or Libra, upon the door before Amalia started pushing against it. Her voice then sounded more like an order than before, causing him to take a step back before hurriedly pushing against the door with as much strength into it as he could. The door was opening somewhat difficult, but it was opening and that mattered the most.
Seeing a green light coming from inside, Arc did look somewhat troubled as he looked quickly around. Studying the chamber they entered, it seemed like another shrine as the same statue was here again. Looking where it stood over, there was a sarcophagus with a number of stone pedestals around it. As he slowly moved further inside, he noted the amulet he had was giving a dull white light. He was still holding it in his other hand since it had been placed there by Amalia. Looking at it and then back at the sarcophagus, he watched Amalia brushing it. Hearing her soon speak, he came to stand next to her as he read the inscription.
Arc shook his head, even if he didn't look at the situation as it was right now, he found it difficult to find peace. He really wondered how his home world was doing right now or if it was still there with the Cloud of Darkness still there. “Too many burdens, too many questions,” he said quietly and in a sad tone. He looked up at the statue, wondering how to deal with the situation, then held up the amulet again first towards the statue then down to the sarcophagus to see where it reacted to the most. He was uncertain if he wanted to place it on top of the thing. Instead wanting to test the thing first for magic with another Libra spell. He definitely was using it a lot. Though, he doubted the Libra would tell him what the sarcophagus was containing. This place felt dangerous.
murk™ WORDS: 827 TAG: DM , @blacksuit , @ashe , @kithos NOTE: Post turned out a bit longer than anticipated.
The tomb is silent, and while the ground trembles with another quake, its full force doesn’t rock this sacred room. The air is hushed with nothing but the sound of their footsteps and muffled voices to reach them. The amulet continues its steady white glow as its placed near the sarcophagus and statue, however, its shine strengthens by an almost imperceptible degree when the boy steps away from them. His magic overtakes the sarcophagus. It is strengthened by earth, and some mysterious presence appears to linger within. It is weak to light.
The dagger clinks against the stone pedestal and glimmers beneath the flickering green flames. For a moment, the trembling ceases before it overtakes them more violently. The protections around the room has weakened if only faintly. A creeping feeling of disapproval touches at Ashe and lingers there in a chilling aura.
The woman stands alone against a rising horde of shambling abominations. Still, she stands stalwart and unmoved. Her shurken blazes with magic, and at her prayer, she feels an envigorating aura overtake her. Though its origins are unknown, it is a strengthening presence that imbues itself within her weapon. In this way at least, she is not without allies.
A crimson light overtakes the jester. Though he is only faintly conscious, a booming voice wracks his mind. ’I have further use for you.’ Though the voice is beyond the woman’s reach, the violent aura that overtakes him is not. The light mixes with shadow, rising from him in snaking tendrils, before they shroud him completely. When they fade, the jester has disappeared with them.
”Protect it?” The faux ally tilts its twists its head too far to the side. A ghastly grin widens on its thinned lips. ”It’s set to break as we speak.”
The earth gives a violent shake that cracks the stone beneath their feet. The pillars topple at her command, but break at irregular intervals. Two topple together and crash in a cloud of dust, crushing nearly a half a dozen corpses and blocking the others as they stack together. Three others crash before their entrances, crushing at least a dozen more in total and impeding the progress of the others. However, two entrances still remain on either side of her. They struggle to climb over the fallen pillars and funnel through these two archways.
Her shuriken arcs around the barrier, lighting white fire to every body that its edges rip through. The undead scream as their sloughing flesh is set ablaze. In their muted panic, they stagger together, spreading the fire among them. The smell of burning flesh in mass is unbearable, but ventilates through the open air. The light in unison is blinding and the long-dead monk raises a hand against it, hissing curses. It doesn’t see the blow coming and her fist connects dead on.
The curative magic overtakes it as it staggers back, screeching. The spell corrodes into its face, blackening it and spreading by the moment. Its hollow eyes blade with hatred even as its rotten flesh flakes off into dried dust. ”There’s nothing you can do,” it croaks. ”The Lich comes.” With that, the its knees give out and it collapses, degrading more by the second. Still, the horde comes. They scrabble over the fallen pillars. They funnel through the archways, arms grasping and claws sharp. Her shuriken returns still lit ablaze as the walls of putrid corpses closes in from all sides.
The tomb’s entrance continues its shuddering journey to a close. The remaining gap could only fit the most lithe of forms and it shrinks by the second. The horde surrounds her in a growing wall of bodies. The statue looks on with impassive eyes.
Cissnei felt a sudden energy wash over her. The fatigue that creeped in and doubt was starting to recede. She was unsure where the energy come from. Perhaps it was Minerva’s blessing. Perhaps it was the entity that resided in this temple. It did not matter. It only reconfirmed what she needed to do. Though her eyes dart to Kefka who disappeared before her eyes. Shit. That was another mystery to deal with latter. She had to focus now.
At least the pillars helped slow progress. Cissnei did not think that she could completely stop all of them. But any little bit she could to impede progress helped. Shuriken taking out many, but she did not take notice as her tunnel vision fell on the false monk. The blow connected, and it seemed the regen took on the villain. She deftly caught her shuriken and reeled back to stand tall again. “Oh. The lich may be coming. But you’re stuck in here with me, right now.” Her voice was edged with ice. There was nothing worse than to be in a room with an angry Turk. Instead of a swift end, she would let the regen linger. She would let him suffer each and every surge of life energy that seared through him. It’s what he deserved.
The entrance was slowly closing. It was now or never. But the undead was shambling forward quickly. With a flourish, her shuriken went flying. With the beautifully brilliant light trailing along it, another dozen undead were torn and ripped to shreds, and dispersed in a purifying energy. Cissnei made a running slide to the entrance, only catching her magically returning Shriken just before the door snapped closed.
She sat at the top of the stairs panting for breath for a moment. She was expending much of her magical reservoir and physical energy today. It was indeed taking a toll today. She could hear the scrambling of undead above. The earth rumbled around her as if to swallow everyone within whole. And she stood up ignoring the dusty debris that fell on her. She focused her energy on not falling down the stairs. The faint light emanating from her shuriken lit her path. Just try to swallow her. She’d at least give it heart burn.
Slowly she found her way to the others, “We have to hurry. I do not know how much time we have, but those things are trying to break their way down there. I held them off as long as I could, but I…” Was she a coward and ran? No. There was something more she needed to do down here. She felt it. “I prevented them at least from swarming right away. What have you both learned?”
She read the plaque and took note of the similar position of the statute and the other pedestals. Well this was going to look silly. “I feel…an energy rushing in me right now…” She moved to mimic the statute and moved to meditate on one of the pedestals. She ignored the awkward feeling of the others watching her do this, but what did they have to lose in trying this? She closed her eyes and tried to focus her prayers on Minerva again. Or on the energy that was imbued inside her and the shuriken. Perhaps she should give it back to the entity here? She tried hard to focus. Life and death. Rebirth. Wasn’t that the natural order of things? What went so wrong here?
I've been screaming out a language that I never knew EXISTED before
Ashe sighed as Arc would state he had too many burdens and questions as well. She wondered what lay on his shoulders so heavily, but now was not the time to ask. After placing the dagger on the pedestal, she turned to ask what his thought on what to do were when suddenly a violent tremor hit. Ashe tried to maintain her balance, but the shaking was so intense she fell at her next footstep. She rolled quickly in fear of any of the pillars caving in, but none did as she rode out the wave til it dissipated and eventually faded.
She went to stand when she felt a chill run the length of her spine as if cold water was being dripped on her neck. She looked up to make sure the roof hadn't caved in any and started leaking, but found no trace of it. Still as the seconds passed the chill didn't fade; instead a sense of being watched and judged melded into the chill. Ashe tried to pinpoint what or who was doing it first looking at Arc anger written in the wrinkles of her brow before realization had her turn to the statue.
"What would you have me do then?" she yelled her voice echoing around the chamber as she marched over to the statue picking the dagger off the pedestal and staring the stone face in the eye. "Your defenses are waning and you refuse protection of your sacred place. What do you want?" Ashe looked down to the dagger in her hand then back to the statue's face. The cave ha errupted in the most violent spasm yet when she had sat it down, perhaps then it was a weapon used against the monk and not her own.
She was about to ask the statue if that was the case when she heard the stone door being pushed open. The Treaty Blade was ready to cut down whatever would come through, but it turned out only to be Cissnei. She waited a moment before to see if Kefka trailed behind, but there was nothing else that followed her in. "The jester left then?" she would ask although she didn't really care aside from making sure his foolery was far and away from them. "Not much," she would admit when asked they would learn but she was more intrigued by Cissnei saying she felt a power and began meditating with the statue
Ashe stared for a moment before, "Energy?" she murmured looking at the statue. The presence had chastised her for offering the knife and filled her with negative feelings. Perhaps then if Cissnei was feeling something positive it was sign of the statue's approval. Ashe walked over to the stool next to Cissnei and assumed a similar position. Ashe was not good at clearing her mind, this seemed something more Rasler would ask her to do than something she would volunteer to do. But even think of him caused a swirl of emotions and memories to play in her mind's eye as she tried to concentrate and fill the same energy from the statue.
Arc wasn't learning much of this place yet when it came to possible magical properties. It seemed a lot of defenses were in place, but beyond that there was little. The door held nothing but being a door and the sarcophagus had some kind of earth protection that was weak to light. Considering he held no offensive magic of the Light element, the scholar moved away from the sarcophagus as he checked on Ashe's situation.
It didn't seem to take long before Cissnei caught up. He held up a hand in a wave as a “welcome back” while looking if Kefka had possibly also followed. The monk appeared to be gone too. Listening to the girl, she was talking about little time and 'those things'. "What happened above?" he asked in surprise, a bit scared on what might be going on right now. Did some enemies appear. Truly, what did happen to the monk? And Kefka?
Seeing her meditate and suddenly Ashe joining in, Arc was looking a bit wildly around. Looking at the amulet again, it had shined stronger when he had moved away from the sarcophagus, perhaps he wasn't really needed in this position. Moving away and towards the door, the young Warrior of Light thought to at least defend the two women if something came in while they were busy. He didn't have any feelings like them thus far while in the tomb, so perhaps this wasn't his place. So instead he took his book in hand and stood a little away from the door while keeping check of the surroundings.
murk™ WORDS: 264 TAG: DM, @blacksuit, @ashe NOTE: -rolls- Sorry it's a bit short.
