The guards' hastily-assembled defensive wall crumbled under the attack from Martina and the strange paladin. Shields splintered and men died, or fell to their knees in surrender. Soon enough, the entire room had been cleared of active opponents. They were either dead, or had given up entirely on fighting.

"Collect their weapons," Fanilly said, quickly, as she came to a halt near the surrendering guards. "And bind their hands. We'll take them to the guard when we're done here."

So far, they had yet to encounter any undead. It was likely, if the necromancer still had any risen corpses waiting, they were deeper in the tomb. It was strange, though.. on one hand, the sanctity of the dead being undisturbed was hardly anything to complain about. But on the other... what was the necromancer doing? There didn't appear to be any undead, despite the number of coffins lining the walls. At once Fanilly was thankful, but wary.

"We'll be going after the conspirators," she said, turning to address the knights, "With the guards dealt with, we'll be able to focus on them and any undead the necromancer may have risen, so-"

Something whistled past her cheek. Fanilly swiftly turned on her heel, and saw... It looked like a man, standing on the stairs, but his identity was concealed behind a hood and black leather armor. In one hand he held a crossbow, and in the other a shortsword.

"You're looking for me and my fellows, then, are you?" he asked, leaning against the wall as he spoke. When had he gotten there? And why hadn't he dropped in earlier? He was now between the two groups of knights... "I'll be sure to tell them that. I saw the little nem girl with those others. Tch tch tch."

He waved his finger. "That'll cost her one whole sister."

Fanilly took a step forward, raising her sword, only to immediately be met by... another attacker?! wielding a heavy axe, she was forced to step back, her own sword barely deflecting the blow. He was tall, muscled man in steel armor...

Two out of six conspirators were here.

[hr]

As Tyaethe charged, the ground in front of her suddenly blazed brightly, a magic circle igniting bright blue on the ground where there had been none before.

She'd have to act quickly to avoid stepping into it and triggering whatever effect had been planted there!

[hr]

Tili simply nodded to Marianne's words. She understood this was not out of kindness. However, she did not know the way. They had never let her beyond the first floor of the mausoleum. And so, she was left with the others, in silence, hearing them speak amongst themselves. And yet, there was another tone she could hear... she could hear breathing. Her sister's breathing. It was a technique they had used to detect one another, a Nem hunting technique repurposed. That meant, certainly her sister was still alive!

If she could just listen for where the other Nem was, then...!

... As the last guard fell, another sound came from below. It was a rattling noise, almost like dried branches, but deeper.

The bleached white frames of skeletons, carrying swords and shields, proceeded from the depths. Among them was a tall man in black, wielding a longsword in one hand.

"Blast it, the Iron Roses, eh?" he said, as skeletons filtered in around him, "And Neldrin was so sure you'd never find out... well, his skeletons should be useful, regardless."

He shrugged.

Tili's eyes locked on him. He hadn't seen her.

As skeletons filtered into the room, Tili drew the dagger she'd taken from the dead guard. Her eyes were still on that man.

Provided no-one looked directly at her, it would be easy to lose track of her in the upcoming battle...

[hr]

The Princess stared blankly at the man who had arrived. So... that was... quite a story. He'd... tried to kill father? But now he hadn't... and... the girl shook her head. She wasn't exactly in the best mental state, and quite a lot of things hand happened very rapidly. She took a deep breath as she tried to discern what kind of response was appropriate to such an unusual tale. Especially given exactly what it entailed... a situation that could have been the death of her father.

Finally, she spoke.

"I... see," she said, flatly. It was all she could manage in the wake of such a strange story.

Meanwhile, Bethany seemed rather overwhelmed, still embarrassed by Sult's treatment of her. Quaking slightly, the court mage quietly shuffled behind the Princess. While she wasn't particularly much taller then the blonde girl, the sight of her attempting to hide behind Eliabelle was rather absurd.