Story I: The Rift

After reaching the door, Pyrrah collapses to her knees, her breath ragged, and shoves the rapier back in its sheath. She yanks her bow from her shoulder and is forced to balance her supporting arm against the top of her knee. She blinks her vision back into a single image before pulling back an arrow and letting it sail for the creature directly across the room. After the arrow sails, she staggers to her feet in case the worms return.

"Die again and stay that way this time!" Still wincing from the pain in her shoulder, Ameera turns to round the column and flee down the tunnel, then realizes Erran is in trouble. After a moments hesitation she points are Erran and calls out to her familiar "That one need our help, distract the ghost on the left." The Imp flys at the ghost and feints an attack with its wicked tail. Ameera shifts her pointing figure to the left and says "Agradoth" to release another bolt of energy.

Erran grits his teeth as he feels the burning cold for a second time, "You're going to have to try harder than that, you perferated bastards!"

He uses his previous momentum to make an slanted, upward swing at the ghost in front of him, a fury in his eyes as Erran puts his all behind the swing.

Seraph seems marveled by the battle, and from his resting place on the cold floor he simply mutters, "Wooow!"

"Those worms are coming back! Get out! Now!" Devanis drops down into the tunnel.

Bah, curse the worms! And the dead!Baric spits on the ground in front of the ghosts and sees the worms and the injured Flare at the other end of the hall, almost passed out.

Trust me, of-Clan-Escolant you'll thank me later.

Dimming heart, in darkened night.
Hold fast to life and to light.
Grabbing Erran from behind and hoisting him bodily through the door at their back, he begins a loud, yelling chant,

Be healed, Flare, you hero in my tales,
hold fast to hope that never fails!

The Dwarf shouts the last line through a grunt as the pair make it through the door and onto the landing as the glow that was forming around Baric is pulled across the room toward Flare.

Whoever provides the power for those always does love idealism and dramatics...

"Comon laggards, you too Flare, down the hatch!" Ameera turns to scoop up Seraph with a purple mage hand and rounds the column to follow down the tunnel after the greying ranger. "Zubie, to me!"

Erran allows himself to be pulled back in order to escape the florescent creatures, readying himself in anticipation for more spectral foes.

"Pray we don't have to face another round of those spirits on our own."

Pyrrah watches wearily with blurred vision as the shroud of magic approaches her, gasping as it makes contact with her chest. It hits her like a wave of dry desert heat, the magic blasting through the numbness and the cold which had ensnared her entire body and filling her once more with the warmth of life and vitality on all but her furthest extremities. Her mind immediately snaps back into focus. Throwing her bow back over her shoulder, she runs towards the tunnel where Ameera and Devanis wait, ducking around the pillar and sliding down the slope as she skids to a stop next to her party members.

"I'm here!" She looks back out towards where she had come. "Are we splitting up? Or just riding out those flesh-eating worms?"

"Are you alright, Pyrrah?"

"I'm okay. Not great, but I can at least keep on my feet now."

She carefully climbs back out of the tunnel against the sloping floor far enough that she can see Erran and Baric across the room, though her muscles remain tense and ready to spring back into the tunnel should she hear the sounds which herald the return of the worms.

"Are you guys coming this way, or do we all want to go through the door? "

Nodding to Pyrrah, Devanis turns around and tries to scout ahead down this twisting tunnel.

"My thanks, Baric, now let's get moving before more of those things show up."

Erran jogs swiftly across the room to the twisting tunnel, hoping not to be greeted with another welcoming party.

It is also worth noting that an invisible, spectral hand - one you've seen Ameera cast previously - floats in the air, holding Seraph by the hilt. "Oh," it says, sounding relieved, "Thank you. Who are you? Are you magic?!" Seraph sounds excited and cheery once more. It is uncertain who Seraph is speaking to; perhaps the mage hand?

Pyrrah scowls darkly at the sword she believes betrayed her, but otherwise makes no comment as she courteously steps out of Erran's way to allow him to stand behind Ameera.

Devanis forges cautiously ahead through the tunnel's twists and turns.