[i][h3]The Vale[/h3][b]The Crypt,[/b]
[b]Currently[/b][/I]

The spectres, no more faces of death and but only ancient hide, steel and leather, immediately brought their arms to bear and advanced. Not with any semblance of coordination, rather just purpose; they seemed not to display anything other than their obsessive need to fulfill their purpose here as the crypt's wardens. So single-minded was it that they heard not the reason of Valmjr and feared not the sword of Cesar Bolivar, the latter's whose blade - wreathed in magic - echoed off the breastplate of the first armored body to meet him and the words of the former not even eliciting a response from any.

Of the two figures before the sailor, the lead one drew back with its sword and, with ethereal grace in spite of its bulky armor, swung deftly. For a moment the spirit possessing the suit glinted into existence and winked out, the blade it bore missing the man as he hastily stepped back to avoid the impending strike. Yet, just as the tipsy bard thought himself safe, the edge wheeled back with astounding speed only to miss again by the grace of the light. At least now it proved these crypt keepers were not to be taken lightly, to which Valmjr had almost assuredly known before; anyone or anything set to defend this tomb was, undoubtedly, a skilled warrior in life.

The second soldiering suit of armor, one made up of decayed hide, lifted its axe and brought it toward the Ysgardian with all force its unbodied self could manage; ready as he was, Valmjr's own axe [i]Hela[/i] caught the blow and shrugged aside the attack like a steel bear. Carrying through, the broad, twin-headed weapon careened aside, only for the hide gloves wielding it to change its trajectory and swing again. As with the many matches the arcane warrior had in bouts of battle throughout his mysterious life, he was more than prepared for the methodical, relentless manner in which the spirits fought. They hadn't that glimmer of life to them any longer, no unpredictability, no surprise.

However, the last two of the guardians - those nearest the doors at the end of the musty hall - armed themselves with a handful of javelins, arrows and a bow. Birbin was quick to note this and with the alacrity of any keen gnomish mind, began a spell. Muttering and drawing his hands out and up before him, crafting something in his mind's eye and with fingers outstretched mimicking that shape, he conjured up a shimmering image that wavered like heat until it became quite real; a soldier of some sort, dressed in much the same armor as the phantoms albeit far more alive and youthful. Without delay, the new ally roared to life with a battle cry and prepared his axe.

[i]"Joyous combat, friends!"[/i] His bearded mouth grinned as the two foes beside him were forced to contend with his presence.

[hider=Effects]
One of the [i]Crypt Guardian[/i] defenders strikes at Cesar twice, missing both times with its sword. The second, who attacked Valmjr twice with a battleaxe, misses narrowly on both counts. The last two spend their turn gathering a few javelins, as well as a bow and arrow with the apparent intent to fight from afar initially.

Birbin casts a spell that seems to summon a Ysgardian soldier to fight and hopes to preoccupy the final two foes.

[b]Score[/b]
[url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VSMMZOYKV1c]The Crypt[/url]

[b]Map[/b]
[i]The Crypt Entrance[/i]

[b]Initiative Order[/b][list][*] Theodore (20)
[*] Valmjr (18)
[*] Cesar (15)
[*] [i]Crypt Guardians (13)[/i]
[*] [i]Birbin (8)[/i][/list]
[/hider]
[@Cu Chulainn], [@Gordian Nought], [@Hekazu], [@JBRam2002], [@Rig]