"Have fun, dear." Evander murmured, his voice sounding slightly weak from the pain. He wasn't prepared to lie on the ground, waiting for his saviour like some child. He wasn't a child, he was a vigilante. He had brought dark wizards to justice once before, he would do it again. He'd already managed to unearth part of a major conspiracy. He would be a hero, and this little [i]girl[/i] wouldn't stop him.

Fumbling for his wand, he pressed the tip to his wound, a temporary healing charm escaping him. He smiled, evidently relieved, as the wound closed leaving a small scar. That would come back to bite him later, but until then he didn't care. Shakily rising to his feet, he brushed the dirt off his cloak.

He needed to get out of this chamber, Victoire could go to help for all he cared. So, deciding he wouldn't be able to open the portculis, he dived into the small stream at the back of the chamber. The world looked different underwater, more fluid. The stream didn't last long. He was able to swim for a minute before encountering a peculiar stone wall. He recognized the runes from one of the pathways leading into the main chamber. He twisted a jewel in the middle, before the wall retracted into the floor, the water in the stream draining.

He gasped for oxygen, having been deprived of it a second time that day. There was a stairway, one he didn't recognise. As he claimed it, he heard strange noises. Chanting in a language he couldn't understand. Like Latin but far older. He entered a chamber to find a slew of dead bodies on the floor, a man cowering in the corner, and a figure in a red cloak standing above it all, in some deep trance. Then the bodies started to rise.

A Necromancer. He would have yelled in triumph if it weren't for the severity of the situation. Instead, he crept forwards, the cloaked figure and the undead with their backs turned. The cowering man suddenly looked up, noticing Evander in the corner. He mouthed a plea for help. At this point, the cloaked figure turned, their incantations getting louder. The undead figures ran at him as best they could. "Thanks, mate." Growled Evander, spells forming in his brain, flying out his wand. The undead were easier to fight than he thought. With a well aimed spell hitting the shoulder of the cloaked figure, their concentration was broken. The zombies fell immediately. 

"Run, man!" Yelled Evander, making a break for the nearest exit. The cowering man was not so fast, the cloaked figure had snared him with a killing curse. Evander turned to face the cloaked figure, raising his middle fingers before turning around and bolting down a corridor. Starting into some strange wall? No, it wasn't a wall, it was Victoire. "You'll never guess how glad I am to see you. I'd exp!ain buy we need to run. Right now."

He didn't allow her to say another word before he continued to run.