The moment the soldier dropped to the ground dead, Silias knew something was wrong.

The shadows echoed with the scuttles of promised danger, ever louder. The athmosohere of the room grew thicker, hopelessness and fear braided into a tight noose of dread. Despite the stream of sunlight, then darkness of the hole seemed to overpower any and all senses. Gone was hope of discovery and excitement. What little sunlight that streamed inside was seemingly dimmer than before. The smell of something rotten and acrid beneath the mildew drew disturbingly more apparent. Even the glimmer of gold--a sight Silias often enjoyed--seemed sinister as the unknown creatures of the dark drew ever nearer.

"Sire, we need to leave," Val hissed, the tightness of her grip betraying her fear. [i]"Now."[/i]

"The gold," Silias mumbled. The miasma of danger and fear seeped into his mind, the turn of events still vague from shock.

"Forget the gold. It's worthless if you're dead!"

Silias caught sight of the fallen soldier. The poor man's face was stuck in a permanent look of confusion which, if things had been different, would've been comical. But not now. Now the man was on the ground with an arrow jammed in his body. Completely dead. A fate that, if they didn't run now, would be shared amongst the party. The Sahib steeled himself, forcing his eyes to look to his retainer. "I'm sorry. You're right." He glanced back at the remaining guard, motioning him over before Val began forcibly started dragging him away. 

"No time for apologies," the half-elf snapped, any practiced respect gone at the first sign of danger. "Move!" 

Their steps back, clumsy at first, gained in speed. Soon the small group was dashing through the darkened halls. All the while, the sound of something scuttled behind.