Both Shamans and the Faith have sent some of their own to investigate the rumours of foul, wicked things around the Blue Potion. Details are scant, with neither Spirits nor humans able to answer what awaits inside, other than a strong feeling of unease, one that has grown more and more over the past few days. Your reasons for coming vary. Perhaps you were chosen. Perhaps you volunteered to come, to guard and protect. Or were paid to do it. Either way, you gather before the Blue Potion, a shop of previously good reputation, its owner Master Athris an appreciated member of the community. But the man has grown to be a recluse and closed his shop, with no one having seen him in weeks, at the very least. Now, this sudden change has grown suspicious in the light of past events, and you intend to find out just what is going on within the shop.

The building itself has one main entrance and a back door. It is two stories high, made of stone, and is otherwise unremarkable. What do you do?

Plagued for a few weeks now by what appears to be lack of sleep, or some other nefarious nemesis, Freja arrives clad in the scouting leathers of her beloved North. The hides of a monstrous albino bear cloak her, hiding her armor and whatever weapons may lay underneath it. Its head hides her curls, its maw casting a shadow over her face that allows only her lips and nose to be glimpsed - her line of sight and eyes hidden entirely. It is only the tilt of her head that acts as any indication, the headdress's snarl currently directed at first at the front door and then a window on the ground if one exists. She is sweeping the perimeter, but not too brazenly so - she waits for the rest of the team before risking any more sanity. Yet.

Khanne arrives in front of the Blue Potion looking as she normally does of late, dressed head to toe in her fur trimmed leathers, bow at her back. She is no stranger to spirits of the non-shaman sort and other things these days, and it was suggested that she join the others for the investigation, to see what she can see. Upon spotting Freja, a nod is given to the bear-clad Redrain. She looks up at the building then and asks the other woman, "have you been here long? See anything?"

Clad as usual in his set of plate, steel splint, quilt and leather all mated together in a fairly unremarkable, if encompassing package, Agnarr slows to regard the shop, no weapon in hand. He does have a big fat white handle in a simple steel holder in hand, though, unlit but held nonetheless, and he slows to regard the shop's exterior. Nodding over at Khanne and Freja, he points up towards the windows. "Could get in there. Fool of a man, though, if he ain't had those fixed."

Aureth arrives, without fanfare. What is he doing here? Mmm, who knows. The services of a prophet for hire probably have not been retained by anyone. He greets the others converging on the building with a slight upnod. He has an old, well worn crossbow held loosely down at his hip. His armor is well-loved and shades of blue and green that do not look particularly stealthy. His hair is bound in a twist at the nape of his neck, with more heed to it being put out of the way to its general beautification. For once. "Freja," he says. "Lady Khanne." His pale eyes flicker, skipping sidelong toward the building. Lifting his spare hand's thumb to his mouth, he nibbles thoughtfully on his cuticle. "Back door? What d'you think? I can handle a lock, probably." Should he be admitting to that? No. Is anyone surprised that a Grayhope comes equipped with crime skills?

There aren't many people taking this road. Actually, it's rather empty, even in the afternoon. Perhaps the recent attacks by wandering Bringers within the city have the people scared. Or it's that sense of unease that now begins to set in among you, though you're able to shrug it off, the heroes that you are. As you consider the shop before you, its boarded up windows, its most likely locked door, you see... nothing. No one seems to be inside, or betraying their presence. Looks empty. And yet... There's something off, certainly.

Freja doesn't really have to stand on her toes to look into the windows, tall freak that she is, but she nods to Khanne as she approaches. Her answer favors brevity, but more out of a sense of business of the matter at hand rather than lacking cordiality. "Looks like a closed shop, like someone has moved out, but he hasn't. People have been comin' to and fro. The counters are empty. Dusty. Furniture doesn't look used for a while." 'What do you guys thing?" Aureth and Agnarr get a nod each, Aureth's offer to break in a twitch of her lips as if she may dare a smile were the circumstances different.'

guys think*

Khanne smiles at Aureth, briefly before lookint back to the building. To Freja, she asks, "do you see it? It has... " She shakes her head and her nose wrinkles in distaste. "Something... residual..." misty-grey eyes sweep over the stone, then the grounds. "Sort of like the blights... corrupted... but not..." She shrugs and says, "we need in somehow, right?" She looks to Aureth. "Seems the quietest way, that."

"Worth trying the front," Agnarr supposes with a brief look Aureth's way, saving whatever dumb remarks he may make about the man's choice of words, shaking out a gauntlet to circle around the building and approach the front door. But he doesn't touch it yet, instead inspecting the lock and knob for any signs of tampering. "That, or the window. Could be the man's the fearful type, got no back door."

Agnarr checked perception + investigation against difficulty 15, resulting in 7, 8 lower than the difficulty.

"The windows are barred." Freja points out and with a solitary nod to Khanne to confirm what the other Shaman says. To Aureth she concedes, "The back seems more logical and with less lookie-loos, if any were to happen by."

Khanne nods and says, "yeah, I would vote for the back, myself." She takes a few steps in that direction, stopping a moment to see if the others are as well.

"Do as you please," Agnarr murmurs, withdrawing from the front door without even trying it, perhaps not wanting to chance it's trapped in some way.

Aureth checked dexterity + legerdemain against difficulty 15, resulting in 26, 11 higher than the difficulty.

Aureth sidles casually up to the door, reaching into one of the myriad pouches that are attached to his armor to retrieve a slight length of metal that nobody respectable has any cause to identify. Moments later, there is a soft 'click' sound, and then the gentle creak of the hinges on the back door as Aureth casually, respectably slides it open.

The back door looks about the same as the front, though it's quickly growing apparent from the footsteps in the dirt that a small group of people have been using it far more than the main entrance. The group is alone in the vicinity, with no one seemingly there to watch as Aureth picks the lock successfully. Once the door is slowly opened, the interior of the shop is revealed. Empty counters as previously seen by Freja, all with a thin layer of dust showing an extended amount of time left in disuse. Same with the furniture. From the back door, you see a small corridor that opens up to the main room with the front door, where Master Athris would meet his customers. To the left, a staircase going up, likewise with a thin layer of dust on every step. To the right, a staircase going down. That one doesn't have any dust.

As she slips softly through the door once it opens Freja pauses a few paces in, glancing down at the spot of floor between her feet. Her head tilts to the side as if she were trying to listen to something and she says quietly to them all. "Fathoms, fathoms deep. Very far below is something that stirs."

Aureth checked perception against difficulty 15, resulting in 17, 2 higher than the difficulty.

"Doesn't sound good," Agnarr observes in a low voice, setting his steel candleholder on the nearest table delicately. From his belt he draws his flint-and-steel, setting light to a piece of charcloth with sparks before bringing the candle to life. Then he extinguishes the cloth in his gauntleted hand and picks it back up, glancing briefly to the stairs going up, then the ones down. "Reckon there's only one real way to go ... less someone here can float."

Aureth heads to the right and the stairs going down immediately. He pauses at the top of the steps, testing his weight on the top step, and he looks down their length with a thoughtful frown. "Not shocking," he says, glancing back in Freja's direction. He nibbles on his cuticle again, saying, "The stairs down have been used recently. Anybody got a light?"

Aureth amends a moment later, "Ah. Good. Somebody does."

"There is no other choice, really.... it's there, all from down there." Khanne nods with her chin towards Freja. "She feels it, I feel it... We're going to have to go down..."

For the remark, the not so Princess-y Princess moves to give Aureth's shoulder a friendly shove as she begins to walk towards the stairs. "Shall we? Every other path seems pointless." Freja intones, a thankful nod given for the candle.

The light shed by the candles do help see more of what lies downstairs. An apothecary's laboratory, with the equipment one would expect to brew potions and grow some of the more underground plants. Most of the plants are dead, however. Either a lack of water... or something else. There doesn't seem to be much to attract the eye... until you look at the wall opposite the stairs. There's a hole in what was once stone, an opening big enough for two men, or a very large man, to go through at a time, heading... straight underground. Steps have been dug out, and should one care to take a look down... it's a circular stairwell. You can't see further than the next few steps, the stairs curving. But definitely going down.

Aureth checked dexterity + stealth against difficulty 15, resulting in 23, 8 higher than the difficulty.

Freja checked dexterity + stealth against difficulty 15, resulting in 70, 55 higher than the difficulty.

Khanne checked dexterity + stealth against difficulty 15, resulting in 23, 8 higher than the difficulty.

Agnarr checked dexterity + stealth against difficulty 15, resulting in 27, 12 higher than the difficulty.

"Hold onto these," Agnarr then states to the party after trying for a glimpse down the stairs from the ground floor, a few beads of sweat on his brow though that might be from the weight of the helm he's wearing - he has to keep his visor up to maximize vision, so its fancy visor is useless for now. From his pouches he produces a few rushlights - dirt cheap compared to that big fat beeswax candle of his - and distributes them among the party to get them lit. Then he waits, letting everyone go first before him. Maybe so he can flee first.

While the pecking order is decided, and hopefully no one brought actual straws to be drawn, Freja slips forward with a candle procured from Agnarr to begin the descent down the spiraling stairs. Her footfall is completely silent, every fiber of her being focused all too entirely on each advance forward. Leaning over the edge of the stairs she extends her hand with the candle and drops it, watching it sail down and down and the shadows and light that the small flickering flame casts. Her deed done, she returns back to the group and informs, "Goes on for a small eternity. Down into the catacombs."

After a little ordering on the stairs, Aureth moves at Khanne's side for the gap, shadowing Freja's step up until the point where she melts into the shadows to the point where it's hard to detect her. He contains himself to the quiet hush of breath, moving as quietly as he can. "Shit, of course it does," he mutters in answer to Freja. "And to the armies of the dead and ... onward, I suppose."

Khanne walks downwards with the others, through the lab and towards the hole in the stone wall. Noticing the plants, she frowns. "So uh... Anyone got holy water? Just, I mean, I saw a teenage boy be an actual bringer yesterday... and uh..." She gestures to the dead plants. She takes the light offered by Agnarr and issues forth a, "thanks." Looking at Aureth she asks, "as in, your dead army... or.. the other dead army?"

The group gathers and, in the order chosen by our courageous heroes, they begin the descent down the stairs. With Freja scouting ahead, Khanne and Aureth following and Agnarr bringing up the rear guard, they encounter very little as they move downwards. Minutes pass, and still the stairs go on... and on... and then... Ground! They finally come to a stop! The group pauses at the end of the stairs, confronted with an ancient corridor, going off into the darkness. Water flows halfway through, a small channel that looks man-made, though again incredibly old. There's no light there, except... Deeper in the darkness, a pinpoint of light. Perhaps a torch, though it's some distance away. There's nothing to be heard other than the flow of the water, easily crossed. But something... feels wrong. Even more now than before. And then, in the area of the torch, you hear a mocking laugh.

"Visitors! How unexpected. Aw, is that you, my little bear cub? You brought your own food! How precious, I never asked for so much."

The voice, and light, are quite a ways away, fifty or sixty feet. But still, though unseen, you can feel eyes watching you.

Khanne looks to Freja and asks, "uh... friend of yours? Also... I am not food..." She frowns, her voice a whisper. Her eyes look ahead, then into the darkness around her. Her senses are alert, and she bites her lip as she listens, feels the air around her. Whatever it is she feels causes her to shiver lightly.

"Hers," Aureth asides to Khanne almost absently, though he has little else to offer during the long, winding trek down and down and down into the dark. As they emerge into the wet gloom beneath, his lip curls away from his teeth almost reflexively with the lift of his crossbow. His gaze skips over the water towards the distant gleam of the light; then he inches forward towards the channel of the water, mistrusting it, especially as the candlelight seems to be swallowed by shadow. He inhales deeply. "Careful," he warns the others in a low voice that. "The catacombs can play tricks on your eyes even when there's not a jackass down here." He's helping.

As the voice calls out and addresses Freja she pauses mid-stride, her right foot halting on the heel before her toe can even press down. She freezes entirely and looks around, the tilt of her head settling towards that torch. Her answer comes out, "My own food, but not yours. You don't get to touch them..wait before you play." She attempts to play his game, or at least keep something at bay and the attention on her. She moves towards the water to cross it if she can, to head towards that torch after she murmurs something to Khanne.

Aureth checked dexterity + dodge against difficulty 15, resulting in 13, 2 lower than the difficulty.

Mathias GM Roll checked dexterity(6) + archery(6) against difficulty 13, resulting in 54, 41 higher than the difficulty.

Continuing to bring up the rear, Agnarr turns one glance back at the staircase before he looks over ahead to the light of the torch. He continues to sweat, but other than that appears to be calm outwardly - though he shifts the candle to his left and reaches for his sword in the right, gripping the hilt firmly. He pays Freja a glance, but after scanning over the party, doesn't speak, instead awaiting what's next.

Khanne has a pained expression on her face as she nods to Freja. Yes... yes, she hears. She hears all too much... Misty-grey eyes close and she swallows, trying to quiet the cacophony she hears, to mute it so she can better seek out that which Freja suggests. She shakes her head, unable to tell what the man might be saying, but gestures forward with her light, nodding that they need to find the man they came looking for.

"Oh, but I've made no such promises, my dearest. I will break you last, remember? And besides, how could I resist such offerings." the voice replies to Freja... and then there's the whistle of an arrow, but alas too fast for Aureth to dodge out of the way. It catches him in the shoulder, the four obsidian blades of the rubicund broadhead arrow digging deep, past the armor. "The little dead priest IS right, you know. How IS the old girl by the by, priest? Still in shape? Still pissed? It's been so long since I've seen her..."

Another laugh, coming from somewhere else now. The voice moved... closer.

"And what brings you down here, little playthings? Don't you know it's dangerous? Or perhaps you wanted to see the surprise? Shame, shame, trying to sneak a peek!"

Aureth staggers with the impact. As the blades of the arrow carve deep through flesh and scrape against bone, he makes a low, grunted growl of a noise that resolves into a hiss of pain, escaping past his teeth. His pale eyes glitter. "You know," he rasps. "There's a purifying quality to a good sustained rage." He seems about to say more and then he stops, a hint of muddle showing in the crease of his brow. He scuffs a few paces forward in the gloom, scanning ahead towards the channel, hunting for the invisible with a wetness of pain in his silvery gaze. He murmurs, "Oh yes. Hers," in an undervoice that is probably highly reassuring to his companions and not creepy and off-putting at all in the dark.

Instead, Agnarr opts to lower his visor and keep his eyes and face safer despite the gloom, limiting his vision - but then, there is not much to see or hear for him, less gifted in the occult. He takes a steps forwards, tilting his head forwards and trying to cover Aureth from further attack with his great, more heavily armored body. "Need her on our side," he grunts, eyeing the torch up ahead still. "Most like there are bodies in here ... knowing the fiend."

As it draws nearer Freja tightens her jaw, wincing with pain as a hand presses her palm flat against her temple. With a few silent tears welling up in her eyes, she blinks then away and steels herself to mock, "Break me last? But what if I prefer to be first? Envious of your affections, your attention to others...I feel forgotten. You weren't even there when I awoke, only a note." She breathes loudly, choking back a sob of pain at whatever it is she hears roaring in her head. A flick of her wrist, a pointed wave of the hand indicates to the rest of the team further down the tunnel they should go - the cost unclear.

"Hers," Khanne whispers, moving to Aureth. "How bad?" she asks, looking to the arrow. "I'm no medic... can break it off. Pack the wound... " She quiets then whispers again, "how bad?" She leans in closer to him to whisper even more quietly. "Do you hear them? The souls?" She moves forward with him, as he scuffs ahead.

"Oh sweetest, I would, really. I can see, I can FEEL, how much you want it. But to shatter your body, to break your limbs and tear them off... it's a pleasure that must be built!" Another laugh... closer still. The voice SHOULD be visible by now. It SHOULD be seen by mortal eyes. And yet still it isn't. Nothing is said further, though for those able to hear them, the chorus of the damned grows louder, and louder, the agony rising until...

"Why don't you guard him closer?" The voice now among them, just before Agnarr and Aureth.

Aureth checked dexterity + dodge against difficulty 15, resulting in 12, 3 lower than the difficulty.

Agnarr checked dexterity + dodge against difficulty 15, resulting in 52, 37 higher than the difficulty.

Mathias GM Roll checked dexterity(6) + huge wpn(6) against difficulty 52, resulting in 73, 21 higher than the difficulty.

The voice was the only warning of the impending blow, but it is too little. Though Agnarr tries to interpose himself between the creature and Aureth, the demon seems to have expected it. Or counted on it. A spear punches through Agnarr's armour, coming out the other end and then likewise impaling Aureth behind him. The blade finally comes to an end when it strikes stone, embedding itself there. "Good boys."

ow

Aureth takes very serious damage.

Agnarr checked dexterity + huge wpn against difficulty 15, resulting in 35, 20 higher than the difficulty.

Mathias GM Roll checked dexterity(6) + dodge(6) against difficulty 35, resulting in 46, 11 higher than the difficulty.

Agnarr wields a monstrous sword of war with a long banded grip.

Agnarr takes serious damage.

A blow that would stab into Aureth's torso is more likely than not to be at about Agnarr's waist, the weaker points of his plate where only mail and quilt gird him. He is run through, but it remains a stab wound, agonizing but not immediately crippling the same way a cut to the hamstring is, and he discards the candle with a grunt to hold onto the spear with his left and grip as tightly as he can, denying it further use of the weaon. His right springs out and draws his blade, and with a clumsy stab he tries to run through the air in front of him ... his weapon stuck, all he can do is curse and attempt to recover it.

There are men for whom great pain is borne under a great burden of stoicism. Aureth is not one of them. An advocate, betimes, of a whole-hearted embrace of life, he proves a whole-hearted embracer of pain, and thereby makes an excellent chew toy for a sadist. He screams himself raw, abandoned to the hideous moment of the crunch of the weapon through flesh and blood and bone. His first unthinking reaction is to struggle, huffing and panting for breath, only to discover that even the slight motion against the spear embedded into the rock behind /through him/ is, well, a great risk of internal bleeding, probably. He tries to force himself by focus to hold very still. That's the point at which he starts hyperventilating. He's just going to be useless for a minute, guys.

Eyes wide, jaw dropping as both men are speared together, Khanne and Freja are left with decisions to make, and so, they spend a moment in soft whispers, trying to make that decision.

Freja checked dexterity + medium wpn against difficulty 15, resulting in 51, 36 higher than the difficulty.

Mathias GM Roll checked dexterity(6) + dodge(6) against difficulty 51, resulting in 55, 4 higher than the difficulty.

Khanne checked dexterity + dodge against difficulty 15, resulting in 19, 4 higher than the difficulty.

Mathias GM Roll checked dexterity(6) + brawl(6) against difficulty 19, resulting in 50, 31 higher than the difficulty.

Khanne takes serious damage.

After conversing with Freja, Khanne nods, placing a hand on the other woman's shoulder in a wish for luck, then goes towards Agnarr and Aureth, hoping to help the impaled pair. She is nearly running when something unseen slams into her, a fist, an arm, she doesn't even know. All she knows is she hits the wall beside Aureth, hard. A gasp of breath, and several more are taken as the wind gets knocked out of her lungs. She was spared hitting her head, thankfully, but will definitely be feeling the pain for awhile. Nothing compared to what the two men experience. As soon as she is able, she turns to help free the spear and Aureth from the wall, whispering, "I am afraid to pull if of you... I don't know how to heal you... " She coughs, taking another breath and continuing to help the men.

The sudden blow, the strike and voice happens all at once and leaves Freja instinctively peddling back a pace or two. Her hands find her axes and she hefts them, glancing between those that were struck, but then towards the path leading towards the torch and the demon's 'present' - now unguarded. She is torn, looking between the other three and the path beyond. A decision made, she calls out with a voice of cold, Northern Iron to the demon, "If your gift is worthy of what you profess for me, we shall see." Khanne is given a pointed look, almost one of apology before she cries out suddenly, sinking to her knees, holding her head with both hands. She grits her teeth and -buries- her axes into the ground to push herself up to her feet, using the rubicund as leverage. Her head is reeling from whatever it is her and Khanne are hearing, but one of her axes arcs upwards to connect -hard- with something and sticks. She has one more axe that completes her dual-wield, but the Redrain is looking at the empty air as her somber brown eyes widen with recognition.

"Let me show you just what your situation is, little playthings."

The invisibility drops, as does the darkness that was choking the light from the torch. You can now all see before you a pale man, not as tall as Agnarr but still of imposing height, blond hair reaching his shoulders. He's grinning, eyes of a dark blue, though he's not looking at anyone in particular, dismissive, looking instead further back from where he came from. His armor is of a dark material, and you can see hands reaching out, shadow hands fading in and out from sight, dozens of them currently holding Agnarr's sword in place, along with Freja's axe.

"Is that the best you can offer? Come now, a big man like you?" the pale man grins at Agnarr, before he looks back to Freja. "And you, dearest? Really? No. THIS is how it's done!" And he reaches out for Freja...

Mathias GM Roll checked dexterity(6) + brawl(6) against difficulty 24, resulting in 78, 54 higher than the difficulty.

Mathias GM Roll checked strength(6) + huge wpn(6) against difficulty 15, resulting in 72, 57 higher than the difficulty.

The pale man grabs hold of Freja... and lifts her up as if she was a doll. Or, as he turns to Agnarr, the dark hands still holding his sword, a hammer. He slams her down upon the big man, with the strength of a mountain. While Agnarr and Freja are the ones harmed, it probably doesn't feel any good for Aureth in the back.

Agnarr takes moderate damage.

Aureth takes minor damage.

Agnarr checked strength + athletics against difficulty 40, resulting in 36, 4 lower than the difficulty.

Gasping for breath, water leaking from his eyes even as blood oozes from his goring, Aureth turns his head very slightly to spit blood. His fingers trembling upon the crossbow, he lifts it. He scrapes out a rasping, muted groan of words. "She walks," he says. Blood shines through his teeth as he grins. Who knows where that even came from. "You stand now beneath her city and you flirt and you menace with all this foreplay--" and in the midst of this, without actually finishing the thought, he fires the crossbow with his pain-trembled hand, angled towards the demon's throat. He loves the sound of his own voice so much it's clearly what he feels the need to attack in his foe.

Aureth checked dexterity + archery against difficulty 15, resulting in 30, 15 higher than the difficulty.

Khanne checked strength + athletics against difficulty 15, resulting in 13, 2 lower than the difficulty.

Mathias GM Roll checked dexterity(6) + dodge(6) against difficulty 30, resulting in 76, 46 higher than the difficulty.

Freja is still held by that Demon, dazed and nearing blacking out and lapsing into incoherent prayers to whatever Spirits or Lost God she favors. There is a moment when she murmurs something to -it- though.

Teeth jarred and body staggered by Freja slamming into him, Agnarr remains on his feet by virtue of continuing to be run through like a boar at the hunt. His hand trembles around that long hardwood shaft lodged in both him, Aureth, and the wall, but then he musters up an effort, letting go of it to draw the other sword at his hip in his left - the bigger one is in his right, but he doesn't try to pry it away. Instead he attempts to twist and hack at the middle of the spear shaft behind him, chopping into it a sizeable nick that is deep enough to allow Khanne to easily finish the job. His face is hidden, but whether through adrenaline or other means, he remains oddly absent of any obvious issue of pain or panic.

Freja takes serious damage.

While still focused, there is a bit more urgency to her actions than perhaps Agnarr exhibits. After he is able to knock a deep gouge into the spear that binds him to Aureth, she smacks at it with a grunt of frustration, hitting just hard enough in a weak spot to break it between them, at least freeing the men from each other. Looking to Aureth, she asks, "is She coming? Here?" She then turns to see Freja held by the demon and reaches for her own bow, hand resting on it for the moment.

The pale man laughs in cruel amusement as he looks at the group, and their rather wounded state. "Oh I would stay and play along, little playthings... But I've places to go. People to kill. And really... I want to know what you'll do to the traitor. Hopefully you have time, you've been rather bad guests, all in all." He looks back again, further beyond the torch, and shakes his head.

And with that, Freja's leg is released, and the demon disappears from sight again. For those able to hear them, the chorus fades away, up the stairs the group took not too long ago. Eventually, his presence, and the magic he displayed, fade into nothing, leaving the group alone in the dark...

And still the feeling of unease hasn't faded.

With the crack of the spear in half, Aureth staggers. With the wrench of an agonized scream ripped out of him in process, he falls from it, sliding off the shaft to crumple to his knees on the ground. His palms skinned on impact with the force of his fall, he hunkers there on hands and knees, breathing hard and bleeding. His now emptied crossbow skitters slackly against the ground before him. He rasps, "Gods help those who help themselves," in a slightly slurry voice, as though he's drunk on pain and blood loss, his vision spotting in and out as he shakes his head. "Shouldn't be down here," he mumbles. "Shouldn't be silent. Shouldn't-- shouldn't--" he pants, wheezes.

The Redrain is dropped -hard- on the stone floor and with a hiss of breath, inhales sharply as she stays down for a moment, glaring in the direction that the cacaophony goes. Freja is deathly pale from whatever the Demon said to her alone in parting. There is no caustic remark from her as she silently reaches for her axes and returns them to their rightful place at her hips. "The muttering..." she looks to Khanne and then down towards the far end of the tunnel. "Let's see his gift. He said he was respectful to the host but..." She shakes her head, not repeating what else was said to her.

Khanne shuffles through her pouch looking for some cloth for Aureth, but finds none. She looks helplessly to him, then to Agnarr. "Stay calm," she says to Aureth, because Agnarr currently seems to be, or is in some state of shock, either way, he doesn't need reminding at the moment. "We'll go up in a moment... Just.. fuck, I didn't want the spear to come out of you... press your hands to the wound or something..." she's a shaman, not a mercy. She is up and though in pain, she is not badly hurt, and goes with Freja to find the apothecary.

Stumbling forwards, Agnarr clicks the arming sword back into place, again grasping the spear shaft lodged deep inside his torso, some three or four feet of turned hardwood. He keeps it lodged inside himself and sheathes his warsword with difficulty. In truth the giant is beginning to get stiff, and he wrenches up his visor to suck in air and stumble forward a few steps, the pain hitting him in a slow throb. "Quick," he utters, quietly pained, leaning against the wall. "Check it. Best ... we get."

The torch does illuminate an entrance, an opening in the corridor to a new room, one that has been filled with alchemical material. This is an elaborate workshop for an apothecary, highly equipped, stocked with potions upon potions of a strange liquid. Upon closer inspection, it's not liquid at all, but instead some kind of grey... air, trapped in the bottle. Only a few seem filled with the strange air, the rest empty, or being filled by Master Athris. He looks back to the two women as they enter the workshop, and they can see the time hasn't been kind on the middle-aged man. He looks decades older, his gaze quick and nervous, an unhealthy wreck. "Where did he go? He said... He said he'd give her back when I'd make it work. He said one bottle was enough. I made more than one. I don't understand. Where is she? Where's my wife? I hear her... He said he'd give her back... Where is she? She calls to me, when he's close..." He looks between Freja and Khanne, expecting an answer.

"Just-- do -- do whatever," Aureth mumbles. He has gone bloodlessly pale, probably on account of all the blood. He starts to crawl on his hands and knees in the vague, disoriented direction of the stairs. Eventually he's probably going to pass out. He is unfortunately not going to be able to provide much priestly empathy and assistance to Khanne and Freja in dealing with poor confused Master Athris.

Agnarr doesn't attempt to speak though he does slog forwards in an attempt to get the same view, clinging to the wall still for assistance. He is silent, though, simply studying the jars while he breathes in a laboured fashion.

Freja looks to Khanne and there is a pained look in her dark eyes as she turns back to the man, "Your work is done, old friend..w-what, is this?" She isn't going to speak on the lost wife just yet.

Khanne looks to Freja, then to the bottles. "I feel like they should be destroyed," she whispers, "and he taken to the asylym. Perhaps?" She looks around, then to him, awaiting his answer before she suggests anything else more loudly.

"Done? But... Where's Marise? He said he'd give her back... They work, I swear they work! He wanted... Didn't like liquid poison. Wanted people to breathe them." He continues to look between Khanne and Freja, growing visibly distressed at the mention of destroying them. "NO! YOU CAN'T! He'll never give her back if--" He stops, dread now showing on his face. "What did you do? What did you DO?! You woke him! You shouldn't wake him! YOU DON'T WAKE THE ONE WHO SLEEPS!"

The mad apothecary's screaming probably doesn't help, but it pales in comparison to the call that is then heard by EVERYONE, echoing within the catacombs, the voice that some had heard before. The same voice, now physical. "SHE WALKS, AND SO I SLEEP NO MORE!" The walls shake under the volume, and the Catacombs... begin to shift.

"Well, /that's/ ... can't be good," Aureth mutters hoarsely as the walls begin to tremble. He's yet to regain his feet, but he's still definitely scrambling /for the stairs/.

"Most like dead, or worse," Agnarr sums up his assessment of the man's wife with a small grimace, sucking in air and turning - smacking the shaft into the wall as he does so and sending another jolt of pain into his core - then starts to slog towards the stairs, halting in his tracks with a grimace as the whole place shakes. "Spirits..."

"He has her. You heard her voice, just as I heard the voices of others he ate before me. I'm sorry, but if we don't leave you'll be dead too. Come, I'll help you and perhaps when we kill him her voice will be free." Freja says half poetically, half bluntly if the apothecary cares to read between the lines. "Dump them in the chan-" And the voice sounds and she curses loudy, "Oh, for fuck's sake...run, run you idiots." She attempts to grab the apothecary and save if, if he can be, though she clenches her jaw with the pain still in her leg from the demon's hold as blood shows in the hems of her leathers there.

and save him, if he can be*

Khanne reaches for Freja's arm, tugging at her. "We have to go... we have to go now!" She looks back, looking to see if Freja grabs the man, but she is definitely ready to book it up the many many stairs as fast as she can.

You flee. There's no other word for it. You flee up the stairs, trying to outrun whatever new doom has been unleashed from the depths beneath Arx. You're not alone, the apothecary perhaps realizing that staying down there wouldn't give him Marise back. Master Athris, in fact, seems very determined to climb all those stairs, despite his evident weakness, panic giving him new resources. Still, despite your wounded states, some far more so than others, you're able to get out of harm's way, even as the stairs beneath you are crushed, destroyed by the movement of the catacombs. A last scream accompanies your way up. One of pure, unadulterated fury and... joy. You don't linger, climbing up to Master Athris' old shop. As relief takes the place of the terror that gave you such speed, you realize there's many voices screaming... from outside. You look, and see many people gathered, trying to stop a fire that has, unfortunately, devoured much of the building in front of you. Aurum Texts is burning, and you can't help but hear the echo of the pale man's laughter as you see it collapse under the flames.

It's the last gasp that sends Aureth up the stairs and out. He is almost unable to process the crackling heat that greets them from across the street. Soaked through with blood and sweat and panic, it's the last thing he observes before he finally succumbs to the dead faint that has been dogging him. It's a wonder he's lasted this long, really. Mind the crumpled heap on the ground.

The fastest speed that Agnarr can manage is a poorly conceived jog, abandoning the candle and climbing up the stairs while clutching his wound and the broken spear shaft. He almost trips over Aureth, but regains his balance and settles his weight on a table. "Spirits," is all he can mutter when he's greeted by the mess outside.

It was tough, bloody footprints, but Freja focuses on the BRIGHT hair of Khanne in front of her and drags the apothecary behind her up the spiraling stairs. Outside in the street as it registers what is taking place, and the heat of the roaring flames is felt, Freja doubles over and just retches, coughing up and dry heaving. Blood and her own tears of anger be damned, Freja rises and looks towards the flame and crowd to help where she can - welcome for the roaring heat and the distraction it brings from the echoes of the pale man's words still dancing in her head. With a limp she moves to Aureth and asks no on in particular, "Help me move him if you can."

Khanne ran up the stairs as fast as she could, helping the wounded others when they needed a bit of aid. She doesn't stop until they are out. Until they are safe. Bursting out into the air, she moves to take a pained breath, and coughs, inhaling smoke before she sees what is taking place. She blinks, mouth agape, Momentarily stunned still. She is moving to Aureth then, trying to help him walk. "Let's get them..." she looks to Freja, "and you, to the mercies. Fast as we can."