[center][b][url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FSVHx23ByhM]Valania Proper - Ce'dareaux's Barony - Late Afternoon (Collaboration between [color=0076a3]GourmetItalia[/color], [color=9e0b0f]Nevis[/color], [color=8dc73f]XianEvermor[/color], and SkullsandSlippers)[/url][/b][/center] [center][@Nevis][@SkullsandSlippers][/center] [hr] [color=0076a3]The times had not been kind to the world and it seemed that a century of conflict had brought an apex to armed conflicts that were destined to occur. During the Northward journey, evidence had only seemed to have pointed towards the endless steppes stretching off to the North, West, and South. Many of the townships that once scattered across Valania Proper were nowhere to be found nor were stretches of tree lines or lush forests found during King Lothair's reign. Large scale deforestation had presumably flattened the landscape where the sights of numerous farmsteads growing sorghum and foreign rices could be seen amidst enclosures teaming with foreign grazing species such as horses, yaks, goats, and sheep. The lands around the enormous battle site featured lush grasses native to Valania Proper, yet elsewhere the semi-arid grasslands and harsh shrubs appeared to largely resemble weak and dull conditions found in the foreign lands of the Eastern Steppes. Shortly after landing before sunrise, the former Baron's Castle, largely a shell of its former glory, sat amidst crumbling, moss covered stones that still featured the remains of elaborate walkways, jagged crenelations, and numerous battlement sites that once housed ballistae, numerous murder holes, and cannon emplacements. The blackened stones still resembled past battle scars that presented hundreds of plate armor clad human remains, shattered weapons, crippled engines of war, and rusted blood stains along numerous routes within the interior whilst illustrating evidence of a struggle that involved a vicious siege and what appeared to be a valiant last stand within the Main Keep. The Bozorgan had simply done his best to maneuver his way around the heavily battered ruins to allow the site to remain undisturbed in honor of House Ce'dareaux's gallant Valanian Knights, his Household Retainers, and their valiant sacrifice. The signs of war were apparent, however, the once polished, limestone laden Inner Courtyards from the previous grounds spoke of once beautiful fountains lined in gilded gold and silver statues of the Ce'dareaux crests. No one could've disputed the notion that the foliage had won the day to cover over the battered debris to illustrate areas of the interior gardens. It was a fitting and beautiful home for a long passed Baron who had clearly cared as much for Valania as he apparently did for the architecture surrounding his lavish home. The shattered remains of white marble laden statues that once formed artistic interpretation for Yadin-Hamon and Athirat's faces remained along various pedestals surrounding the garden ruins while shattered glasses lay scattered along the cobblestone grounds. Elsewhere, stone workings seemingly smashed by cannonballs lay in various shapes and forms amidst sections that once held the walls for the Garrison Barracks, Armories, Chapels, Bailiff Chambers, Stables, and numerous other wards and structures. The tattered Ce'dareaux insignias could still be found through faint traces along the paint rusting along the broken and splintered shields of former Ce'dareaux Retainers. The traces of the long forgotten conflicts from century's past could be felt all throughout the Castle's foundations and it did not take long to surmise that House Ce'dareaux's Last Stand resembled the site of a savage massacre. Throughout the short progress across the Interior Castle grounds, the Bozorgan's weary eyes never wavered as he set about escorting the others to suitable shelter. The Cellars seemed the most logical location to settle, however, upon removing the hidden, barricaded entrance they discovered the human remains of what resembled several dozen servants of all varying ages. The siege had likely trapped the surviving non-combatants where they had likely starved or suffocated after the fighting. It was a saddening sight of the barbaric nature that seemingly preceded the Jade Khan's arrival and it was ultimately decided the Cellars were to be avoided with honor in mind to respect the fallen. Whilst the others rested, he had set to work during the First and Second watches to clear the Pantry and Kitchens, where the foundations and numerous second story grounds had largely kept the ceilings and interior intact.[/color] [hr] [color=0076a3]Sometime after dawn, the storm descended upon the Barony with all the rage of a torrential Monsoon that coated the Castle grounds in a thick, unforgiving downpour. By then, the Bozorgan had already safely raveled and moved the Balloon canvas and basket into the Castle's confines, whilst coating his tracks for the sake of secrecy. They were not prepared to encounter or resist any nearby Khanate patrols and as such, the utmost precautions were taken to mask their presence and ensure the preservation of safety. A short while later, the Bozorgan had effectively plucked the basket's, arrow ridden bottom clean where new additions to their arrow and munition reserves quickly reached generous proportions. The following burdens soon pointed towards the desire for rest and warmth, however, given the presence of numerous yurt encampments sighted along their skyward route across the Steppes, lighting a fire seemed completely out of the question as it was neither safe nor sane. As such, the gathering were left to the whims of frigid winds blowing through the barren fireplace openings while a drop in temperatures brought frost plumes secreting through every party member's nostrils. The Bozorgan himself had resorted to issuing triple blankets to each member to stave off the cold, however, even through huddling together, it seemed the biting cold still managed to hammer their faces with near mind numbing effects. A frost-bitten evening was likely to follow and the fears of falling to the cold were the least of ways, in which the Bozorgan wished to fall. Many obstacles still lingering in the journey ahead, but in their current form, it seemed none of the party were in any shape to move forwards. Sighing, his eyes rose to the ceilings as frustrations, fears, and worries brooded through his long walk across the Kitchen and Pantry grounds. The Second Watch had come to an end and in lue of the others sleeping forms, he surmised that perhaps a Third and Fourth Watch were his to prerogatives to ensuring their safety. Stalking across the grounds, the wooden floors creaked and groaned with every step and amidst exuding frost through paced breaths, the Bozorgan simply kept a hand tightly fixed along the khilij pommel with a weary, yet willful vigilance. He had [i]just[/i] managed to begin another round through the interior grounds and had anticipated evening's approach when his foot stepped through a series of cracked floor boards not far from Algol-Uriel's and Raven's sleeping forms. The following descent came just as quickly as the manner, in which the rotted floor beams collapsed under the Bozorgan's added weight and within mere moments, found himself screaming in incredulous astonishment as he tumbled feet first into a sea of darkness. For a moment, the noise proved enough to waken every party member and perhaps even the dead, though in truth, the ensuing silence proved more worrying than the collapsing floor beams' deafening creaks. "[i][b]Sons of Death[/b][/i]," Pontius cried as he miraculously scrambled to his knees and fumbled in the dark across musty cobb-webbed floors. Panic had set in as fear of what the darkness' dangers took suit and amidst the need to rise to action, his hands began to flounder about. Within moments, he had somehow managed to illuminate the vicinity through sparks shaved from flint and steel. Instincts born from years of campaigning had stirred him to action as he waved the miniature rock throughout the dark and musty stone caverns that wreaked of rotted human flesh, dust, and the dank odours of what was expected upon entering a Forgotten Crypt. It was fortunate that the Bozorgan had ignited his own light source for no sooner had he leapt to his feet that he found Emperor Algol-Uriel coughing and groaning at his feet. The first prerogative was to immediately assist the Half-Breed ruler before searching their surrounding vicinity for means to climb to safety. As he brought his companion to his feet, the Bozorgan had simply stared in wonder as his eyes wandered across the ornately carved walls that resembled the Ancient History of the Ce'dareaux ancestry. The faces along the various stone carvings illustrated the Ancient Ce'dareaux Barons of old and their accompanying Tombs. Upon closer examination, he found much of the Crypt remained intact and in ironic fashion, a direct contrast towards the wrecked Castle grounds from above. Where ever death had found its touch, a varying display of history had somehow crept its way into each and every incident with noticeable effect. For what it was worth, no manner of Sarife's past occupation over Valania or the Jade Khan's whole sale dominance over Carcassonne could suppress centuries or millennia's history or culture. The past could not be unwritten nor could stones expertly carved by proud and cultured individuals be completely unturned. It brought a smile to the Bozorgan to know that the past was still very much alive within the broken walls of something that resembled Valania's history. The moment of observation and appreciation was soon cut short when out of the corner of his eyes, a faint glow caught his immediate attention. "[i]Your eminence[/i]," he hissed amidst the man's labored groans and an eye towards the glowing light, "[i][b]Are you alright?[/b][/i]" Within moments of retrieving a nearby floorboard shard, his efforts quickly yielded a crude, makeshift torch capable of illuminating a much larger area before inching across the stone paved grounds. The steps through the Crypt seemed almost dream like as he moved to investigate the glow light's source. With one hand gripping the crude torch and the other upon the khilij, his eyes narrowed as his steps brought him closer towards the faint green glow. After a dozen cautious steps, his eyes narrowed yet again as his sights trained upon a large square tomb covered in a thick cracked, stone slab. The sounds of dripping water echoed through the Crypt Grounds as his eyes swept across the other Tombs before resting firmly upon the green beam shooting through the crack in the slab and onto the vaulted ceilings. Gripping the khilij pommel, the Bozorgan retreated several paces as his eyes trained upon the sights of a slumped brunette haired woman clad in Gothic plated armor, wearing the crested insignia of the Order of St. Melitas. A quick glance might have initially marked her amongst the deceased, however, upon closer inspection, her form largely resembled an individual slumped into a deep slumber. All around the perimeter the inscribed signets of the Order of St. Melitas could be seen forming a circle around the Melitan Warrior and the Large Tomb. Shortly after inching a quarter dozen paces from the perimeter, the Bozorgan cast the torch's illumination along the Melitan Warrior's shining armor and posture as she leaned upon the bastard sword firmly anchored vertically along the ground. Through a swift glance towards the inflection across the Warrior's chest plate, his eyes narrowed, his finger pointed towards the reflection of what lay within the Tomb opening ... [i][b]cascading green light and what resembled a slumbering young Al-Mayrin woman wearing a Golden Necklace and Whistle.[/b][/i][/color] [color=9e0b0f]Algol-Uriel clambered after the Bozorgan, coughing and spluttering as he struggled to regain his breath and clarity of mind from the shock of a rude awakening and still ruder shock to his back and lungs. One hand upon a tomb and another upon his knee, the gasping Emperor followed after the light source, his eyes wincing against the sting of green. "Alright enough," he grimaced as he followed after with a rub at his half-numbed nose, carrying his blankets still upon his shoulders, sweeping the ground with little mind to whatever filth might lie upon it for the greater consideration of the cold. By the time that Algol-Uriel had caught up to the Bozorgan he stood upright, though his head yet throbbed for exhaustion. Yet upon the sight of the slumbering maiden suspended in that familiar green, his breath was once again stolen away, his heartbeat leaping as if in sudden freefall once more. "[i]You![/i]" The prince whirled to the Bozorgan, eyes alight in shock and bathed in green. "This is her, the Seeress! What is this?" he asked in a quickened voice, his arm slightly sweeping in gesture to ceremonial coffin and shrine entombing it.[/color] [color=0076a3]"From what I can discern," he voiced through an incredulously baffling stare and a wave of the crude torch across the cobweb strewn vault, "The Jade Khan's markings are absent here, however ..." a lengthy pause followed suit as the torch lowered towards the Melitan insignias planted around the tomb, "It is perhaps, best we conduct ourselves through cautionary measures in matters concerning wardings of this appearance." Sighing, the Bozorgan delivered an inquisitive glance towards the source of their early descent; a location that had seemingly bathed in darkness admist the seething storm and howling winds brewing from above. "[i]The light ...[/i]" The Bozorgan curiously voiced as his eyes trained upon the glowing green ray, "I ... presume you are of similar acquaintance with Nurlian Al-Mayrin artifacts?" Frowning, the Bozorgan's gaze narrowed as suspicion quickly spread across his face's entirety. Where ever they ventured, fortunes seemed to yield the unexpected and even within the dank, reeking vaults, the air seemed to present an unfamiliar sense of defiance. The wards themselves had presented an entirely new discovery deserving inspection and interest that warranted his immediate attentions. "[i]Your eminence[/i], " he began again before unsheathing his Khilij and whistling the tip into a sweep arc towards the tomb, "I believe a suitable distance from my rear would best serve your interests while I inspect the perimeter. I suspect there maybe dangerous wards surrounding this particular tomb." Grimacing, the Bozorgan unholstered and surrendered his loaded pistol towards the Half-Breed Ruler before gathering his long hair. Following several short, concentrated breaths, his arm drew back and drove the khilij into a powerful forward thrust in an attempt to test an experimental probe across the insignia perimeter. The resulting effect delivered a powerful vibration that coursed throughout the Insignias whilst provoking a glowering white emanation through each insignia. Another grimace flashed across his face as winced eyes and strained efforts illustrated the Bozorgan's failed attempts to breach the perimeter. Nodding, his arm quickly withdrew and upon a suspicious glance towards the khilij, found the tip smoldering with steam and reddened with heat. "It is as I suspected," he announced after flashing the smoldering tip towards the Emperor's vicinity, "There are wards anchoring a strong barrier around the tomb and it is similar in nature to the barrier that imprisoned our kaşifleri brethren; however ..." his voice trailed away as his unoccupied fingers pointed towards the glowing white insignias. "I believe we will not require the Divines' sky forces or a journey across the Dream planes to breach these wards ... [i][b]if[/b]... it is what you command, your eminence ...[/i]"[/color] [color=9e0b0f]The Emperor lowered his arm from his face that had been shielding his eyes from the light to glance down to the proffered sword point narrowing into a pensive frown at the reddened tip. With a glance once more at the maiden in stasis, hand firmly clasping the pistol, he shot his wary eyes to the Bozorgan. "Explain what you mean. I will not have our only guide in this time fried for a mistaken attempt at magical wards.[/color]" [color=0076a3]Brazen waves of the torch quickly shifted illumination between the green cascading light, the slumbering Melitan warrior, and the white, glowing insignias before the Bozorgan's sword tip gestured towards the surrounding insignias. "The barrier is anchored through wards that are similar, yet completely weaker in form if we were to examine the wards of the Jade Khan to those of the Sarifen Inquisition of Old. Then again, I have never before spotted wards of this particular appearance and ... perhaps a discussion involving matters of Ward strength would best be left for another time. Now, if we are to resolve the matter at hand, our approach follows only a single path forward and if I might advise, it would be most prudent if we are to deliver a force strong enough to ... igniting each and every ward within that perimeter. I believe our efforts would allow for a more suitable outcome if we followed a more practical approach. [i]Come![/i] We must return to the surface where we may have several solutions at hand!"[/color] [color=9e0b0f]Algol-Uriel sighed as his actual question went unanswered. Following the Bozorgan closely behind-particularly to the glowing torch for what little it spared them of the cold-he asked as they began to search the grave site for an exit, "Elaborate. What [i]exactly[/i] are we going to do?" he asked as his eyes scanned through the darkness, seeking indications of a door or stair. "How do you propose we ignite each and every ward simultanously-especially without ending up like your sword point?"[/color] [color=0076a3]"The Wards," the Bozorgan began, "...are the sole proprietary forces that anchor all objects and peoples within a set perimeter. I am not well versed in matters concerning their creations, however, I will at least elaborate upon the notion that they are [i]not[/i] an uncommon sight within the Jade Khanate's apparent territories while serving the Jade Khan's purposes. We are fortunate the Jade Khan's markings are absent through out [i]this particular Vault[/i] and I believe several viable approaches will ... how shall we say ... [i]shatter[/i] these wards. We need only a force capable of breaching the perimeter though I believe acquiring such necessary forces would require a continuous means for sapping each ward anchor's strength. Only then, can we hope to triumph and I surmise the most logical approach would involve showering the Ward with ... [i]rocks[/i]. Then again, I believe construction of a battering ram or setting explosives around the Wards would prove to be equally effective. I believe a battering ram would constitute a more sensible approach, though not without possibly exposing our hides to the cold or the storm. I also spotted numerous Jade Khanate patrols riding across the roads before reaching the Castle grounds. We may also brave a journey into the realms of munitions, although it may involve emptying most of our munitions. Truthfully, we do not carry an infinite powder reserve, although I believe a matter of this importance may well serve its weighted worths in powder dispensations. Most notably, a direct blast of such greatness would rid ourselves of the Wards [i]and[/i] breach the perimeter where we will tempt our fates." His eyes narrowed again as he pointed towards the slumbering Melitan Warrior. "We must prepare ourselves lest we awaken those that would not share our convictions. The last sisters of the Order of St. Melitas were killed over ninety years ago and I do not believe members of their kind will kindly look upon Sarifens such as ourselves. I would again caution towards acting with prudence, [i]your eminence[/i] ..."[/color] [color=9e0b0f]Algol-Uriel sighed with a shared glance towards the slumbering warrior. "Half-Sarifen, though your point stands," he said as he stopped to glance around and take the room in full. "The explosives are dire precious with my flames gone along with my demons," he said in bittersweet tone. "And the battering ram is out of the question unless you can craft one from wood from within the castle. So unless you know of something else, rocks seems our only feasible option. Is a ram of stone at all possible, or perhaps a heavy beam from above?"[/color] [color=0076a3]"We have ample reserves for rope and ..." the Bozorgan paused as his eyes swept across the Vault before swinging the torch over his heads towards the numerous stone carvings, "It seems stone and broken wood is a plentiful commodity here, though a concerted construction effort may perhaps venture into the late evening before we have a suitable battering ram ready. Why don't we return to the surface? I will ensure we will not linger here while the light of day is still in our grasp!"[/color] [color=9e0b0f]"Very well," the young man replied in kind with a slight sweep of his arm. "Lead onward, then, vanguard." At that, he approached the base of the chasm directly beneath the hole so far above them, waiting for instruction on how to aid their escape from the dark hole and up to search for manners of magical deconstruction. "How [i]do[/i] you propose to get up there?" he asked.[/color] [color=0076a3]"A simple matter, [i]your eminence[/i]," the Bozorgan willfully answered as he waved the crude torch towards the Dark Corridors leading past stretches of Tombs, "It seems the Vault passages will lead to the surface and we only need find the entrance. [i][b]Follow my lead![/b][/i]" [hr] Over the course of the late afternoon and early evening, the Bozorgan and the Half-Breed's tireless efforts progressed without incident and brought them through the Barony Catacombs before locating a hidden entrance barricaded to near unspeakable efficient. After removing the beams and stone barring their entry, the passage lead into a winding staircase that brought the pair into a forgotten enclosed section that once resembled a bed Chamber. Their ascent to the surface came under a heavy downpour and a flight across debris strewn battlements and smashed chambers littered in human remains brought chills down the Bozorgan's spine, though in truth; the sights of the fallen seemed trivial amidst the desire to escape the biting cold and soaking of garments. Within several moments, they had managed to wake the Ancient Slayer and detail the situation before setting to work lighting the Vault passage and gathering stone of various shapes and sizes. Harvesting rocks had proven the most laborious aspect towards assembling their makeshift battering ram as was scavenging and re-purposing wheels off smashed siege engines found along the battlements. The speed and length of such endeavors had simultaneously arisen obstacles that seemed entirely beyond their grasp, however, with nightfall approaching, the dangers associated towards working through poor illumination and the bitter cold seemed only to invigorate their efforts that involved the Ward occupants' liberation. Sometime after midnight, their labors had begun to bear fruit to bring the Bozorgan's plans to action where a large cedar beam and numerous rocks had been brought and assembled within the Vault. "[i][b]In Yadin-Hamon and Athirat's grace, we trust[/b][/i]," the Bozorgan uttered in prayer as he gripped the tightly secured rocks and beam before offering the others a satisfying smile. "If you need not empty your bowels, we will breach on three." "[i]One ...[/i]" "[i]Two ...[/i]" "[i][b]...THREE[/b][/i]" The three men shouted to the top of their lungs as they anchored against the corridor floors and drew back the beam before thrusting the ram into a forward motion towards the Warded perimeter. The ropes creaked and groaned upon usage after nearly a century of dormancy, however, the effects were immediate as the ram quickly accelerated across the platform before slamming with full force against barrier. Upon crashing into the barrier, the resistance proved forceful enough to catapult the contraption back in the opposite direction, however, not without forcing the illuminated signets into a brighter white glow of light. "[i]Once more![/i]" the Bozorgan shouted as the Ram came to a halt several dozen paces behind their location. A moment later, the trio had re-positioned and sent the Ram into a similar path towards the perimeter and for the second time during the early wee hours, the Ram smashed into the barrier with alarming force that repeatedly sent the wheel platform careening backwards while forcing the illuminated signets into an even brighter white glow of light. The following several attempts proved effective in contributing towards further weakening the barrier as evidenced through the signets' bright, signature glow. Through the course of a quarter hour, their efforts had a considerable effect in weakening the barrier while keeping the ram largely intact. With each passing attempt, the Bozorgan's prods against the barrier served to gauge their progress whilst determining the moment when their efforts would finally breach through the perimeter. It was sometime before reaching the second dozen most attempt that the Ward's signets' glowing aura began to glimmer with blinding effect. "I believe we maybe nearing a light on the end of this tunnel," he huffed through laborious pants and sweat pouring down both brows, "[i]Once more, brothers?[/i]" Wiping his brow, the Bozorgan's fingers eagerly wrapped around the beam's edges before coordinating his efforts with the others for another run through. "[i]One ...[/i]" "[i]Two ...[/i]" His brows furrowed in concentration as the beam drew back for another pass amidst the blinding light coursing through each glowing signet. "[i][b]...THREE[/b][/i]" Upon drawing the beam forwards into a powerful forwards trajectory, a brief moment of calm swept through the grounds as the ram slammed with potent effect against the weakened perimeter. The resulting aftermath arrived almost as quickly as the ram burst into flames followed by a powerful force that swept all three men off their feet in the opposite direction. The Bozorgan cried out in alarm as he tumbled, arse first over the Ancient Slayer's face whilst shielding his eyes from each signets' blinding lights. As one, the signets illuminated the entire Vault in blinding white light before expanding in every conceivable direction. Upon crawling towards his feet, the Bozorgan's hands seized each companion by their collars before forcefully dragging each man back to escape the expanding light's reaches. Just before tripping over a stone that once again sent him flying arse first over the Slayer's face and forcing the wind to be knocked from under his breath, the light suddenly dissipated mere inches from their location before shrouding the Vault in darkness against the faint glow of the green cascading light. Through a sigh of relief, the Bozorgan quickly scrambled to his feet before slapping each companion through the face in an attempt to allow each to regain their senses. Shortly after pulling each man to his feet, the Bozorgan's eyes darted between the burning ram and the lighted corridors as wonder began to take suit. "[i]Slayer ... your eminence ... look over there[/i]," he cried as he pointed towards the poorly illuminated Vault! "The barrier ... [i][b]it is gone![/b][/i]"[/color] [color=8dc73f]Raven blocked the Bozorgan's attempt to 'slap sense' back into him with a raised hand and then pierced the man with his red eye, molten with rage. He sucked in a deep breath, giving the group an '[i]if we're done...[/i]' expression and stomped off back towards their camp to both cool down and check on Jade. "[b]Bravo[/b]," Orionn cheered. He was leaning against an adjacent wall watching the entire ordeal and gave the group a slow clap while wearing a smug grin on his face. "[b]Bravo, Pontius. Only you could solve a puzzle meant to challenge your mind by flogging it... never gets old. Just goes to show that the shape of the hole is irrelevant if you just apply enough force to the peg.[/b]" Raven let an enraged grunt out from further down the hallway and a large rock phased through Orionn's body, clattering loudly against the stone floor. "[b]Rude[/b]," Orionn quipped. "[b]If you had a body...[/b]" Raven hissed down the hallway at him, but didn't finish. "[b]If you knew something, then [i]WHY?![/i][/b]" He yelled instead. "[b]It's a teachable moment[/b]," Orionn chuckled while examining his nails. "[b]Shouldn't you check on Jade? She's been left alone in the cold an awfully long time[/b]," Orionn quickly said, in response to the sound of ringing steel from down the hallway. There was a tangible moment of silence before Raven slid his weapon back home and continued back to the camp growling. "[b]Now then. Our newest companion may need medical attention[/b]," he informed as he moved over to the previously imprisoned Melitan warrior and knelt down beside her.[/color] [color=0076a3]"I shall note our future conversations without a mind for practical applications," the Bozorgan answered flatly as irritation began to slowly sour over his face. During the ensuing chaos, the tumbles had near completely knocked his breath away and several moments passed as he tended gingerly towards his sore bottom. His eyes darted curiously between the departing slayer's form, burning ram, Half-Breed, and Melitan Warrioress before sporting his neck as his attention quickly turned towards the near translucent Dreamwalker. When the time came to address the Dream Walker, his gaze had already redirected in the opposite direction towards the lighted corridors leading to the surface, "Your presence is not lacking in spirit, however, I did not realized you had left the ramparts. Forgive me, but perhaps I was mistaken to believe you would honor your promise to watch our flanks or the roads for Khanate patrols." The Vault became the center point whilst the Dream Walker knelt over the Full Plated Warrioress as she leaned against the glimmering bastard sword. There had been a sense of awe as the green light continually cast upon the Vaulted ceilings and for a short time, the Bozorgan found himself in wonder at such a sight laying before his very eyes. The moment had seemed almost surreal given the near perfect manner, in which the barrier's occupants could be sheltered from harm. Not all was as it seemed and if not for their interventions, the mysteries between the nature surrounding the Ward's functions would have very likely escape into annals of time. It was a matter that the Bozorgan would later dwell upon, assuming they hadn't succumbed to the biting cold. "We should leave the woman in p..." Before his thoughts reached further conclusions, his attention quickly trained upon the Melitan Warrioress as her dirtied, shoulder length hair rose with her head. A short gasp escaped her lips followed by a frenetic leaping action that brought the bastard sword whistling into an arcing slice towards the near translucent Dream Walker. Upon slicing through his projection without achieving anything more than simply rippling across thin air and temporarily ruining his manifested appearance, the Warrioress quickly raised her sword and glanced confusingly towards her blade's bloodless rims before hurling forward with sword raised. As she closed the distance and plunged towards her next target, the Half-Breed Ruler, a desperate scream escaped her lips with a fury that rivaled none. On instinct, the Bozorgan drew his khilij and whirled into a forward motion that not only pushed the Half-Breed to safety, but allowed for the means to execute a perfect sideways stance that expertly countered the blow. Sparks flew through the air as steel clattered against steel in a brilliant clash of the swords and without flinching, the Bozorgan's blade cleanly whistled in the air as it slid against the elongated sword before attempting to whip outwards into counter attack that would open directly into the woman's exposed back. The following course of action served as a bizarre flurry of blows as the Melitan Warrioress stopped midway through the swing and slammed an elbow into the Bozorgan's chest, knocking him clear off his feet. Crying in fury, the Warrioress rushed forward in an emotionally fueled charge; however, even after the Bozorgan flew backwards and planted, back first into the ground, the attempt proved futile as, on pure instinct, the man swiftly rolled sideways just as the Melitan's Sword dashed against the stone in her effort to thoroughly run him through. As the Bozorgan spun to deliver a sideways arc, the Warrioress shouted as she side stepped into an upside down parry that reversed into forward swing. This only served to provoke the Bozorgan as he rolled again before hurling and tumbling into a forward motion that sent him ducking under the woman's vicious swing. His composure never wavered even through the deadly ordeal that would've ended any other individual's life and even after his sword came flashing across the open air and clattering down upon his feet, it was not to become the duel's final deciding moments, . "[i]Melitan Sister[/i]," he shouted as the woman kicked his sword away and lunged in his general vicinity. After she attempted another thrust to run him through, the Bozorgan merely tucked both arms behind his back and at the last minute, side stepped before leaping into a sideways flip. "[i]Stop at once! [b]We come in peace and are not your enemy![/b][/i]" Screaming in shock as her sword swung into nothing, the woman stumbled before shouting over uneven tones, "[i]Save your lies for the Divines, [b]Sarifen heretic!![/b][/i]" Shortly after lunging maddeningly towards the Bozorgan, the woman gasped as she noticed the streak of green light glowing above the cracked tomb. Her stiff and guarded composure soon followed with suspicious glances towards the ceiling and vaulted stone works and after a quick backwards whirl towards the Tomb; the woman's glances moved towards the singed signets, cobweb strewn floors, and dank, dripping ceilings whilst leveling her elongated sword into a two handed, guarded stance. Her expression began to take upon a new light as she began to completely size up the surroundings. Sighing, the Bozorgan motioned for the Half-Breed to step back whilst offering a halting hand gesture towards the near translucent Dream Walker. "Melitan Sister," the Bozorgan began again, this time through a more soft enunciation and motions to back away through raised arms, "[i]We have no reason to fight you![/i]" "[b][i]Ze day I believe the words hissed through a Sarifen serpeant's lips is the day I cast aside my faith![/i][/b]" she screamed through fuming pants and tears streaming down her face, "[i]And I will [b]never[/b] abandon the Augurian cause as long as I bear Yadin-Hamon and Athirat as my guide! I am witness today under the Divines and though my sisters have returned to their kingdom; as Grand Master of the Order St. Melitas, I will defend the Augurian faith and Prince Lucius' name until my dying breath![/i]" Amidst the darkly lit Vault, the Bozorgan's lips curled as if to hold back a retort, however, the urge soon dissipated to where he instead offered a worrying glance towards the Dream Walker and the Half-Breed. "No one will die today, Melitan Sister," he answered before unholstering and removing his remaining pistol and dagger upon the cold stone floors, "[i]I swear it on Yadin-Hamon and Athirat's name.[/i]" Offering no answer, the Melitan Warrioress' feet remained planted into the high ground whilst her sword remained fixated upon the same upwards guard position. It was as if her determined composure seemed only to further illustrate her near saintly features as an Augurian Champion, yet the fury in her eyes burned as vehemently as the flames licking against the crude battering ram. After a time, in which none of the men moved, the woman once again stared suspicious towards the cob-web strewn floors and aged Vault interior. "If you are not here to kill me," she began again under seething enunciation, "Why [i]are[/i] you here and how many of your soldiers tread the Baron's surface?" "We are, but four men and one woman, Melitan Sister and there are no soldiers on the surface save the Jade Khanate's patrols. I will mention again, [i]we come in peace[/i]," he announced through raised hands and a kick towards his weapons, "[i]We are not here to fight or harm you and I will again swear it in Yadin-Hamon and Athirat's name. How many more words must we confirm before you understand our promises?[/i]" Through heavy pants, the woman shifted weight as her eyes darted between the cascading green light and the trio holding just outside the defunct signet perimeter, "That is apparently amongst the worst of lies that have ever crossed my ears. Of course, I should expect as much! Your vile kind are the worst the continent have ever laid eyes upon and your soldiers have slaughtered every Delacroix loyalist including each and every last one of my Sisters otherwise you would not be standing here. More lies and treachery in the Emperor's name will not serve your cause while I defend this ground." "It is more sensible to explain that treachery and lies come [i]hand in hand[/i], however, neither are shared by the Sarifen peoples I know," the Bozorgan corrected as his eyes glanced towards the Half-Breed, "Now on the matters that concern your cause, [i]if[/i] we cannot persuade your convictions; perhaps the decrepit Crypts will sway your beliefs. Before our arrival, none have ventured through this part of the Barony throughout over more than half a dozen decades. See for yourself what has become of the Barony, we will not stop you as is our promise."[/color] [color=8dc73f]"[b]If I may[/b]," Orionn interrupted. He had only moved a handful of feet from where the Melitan warrioress' sword had passed through them, and made sure to stand a very respectable distance away from her, keeping both of his hands visible and raised non-threateningly. "[b]I am not corporeal, and can do you no harm. I am also not Sarifen, though I'll admit I've grown quite attached to the robes. Very comfortable. I suspect it has been a great many years since the last thing that you remember, and as much as I would love to watch your victory over Pontius here (you've let your footwork become quite sloppy) before you do so, I should pose just one question: in the Sarifen empire that you remember, how were the Al-Mayin treated?[/b]" Orionn asked, massaging the crows feet at the corners of his mouth thoughtfully.[/color] [color=0076a3]"Your lies will never pass while I still stand, though I suppose if my last moments are spent speaking to [i]pathetic and desperate[/i] Sarifen zealots, I wish you to hear that Sarifen matters are [i]not my concern[/i] nor are duties that fall under my jurisdiction," the Melitan Warrioress vengefully spat, "I will [i][b]not[/b][/i] have you mock the Order of St. Melitas through trivial matters while your delaying tactics prepare your soldiers for entry. [i]Fight me or suff...[/i]" The woman paused and her head turned as white sparks drew from the Dream Walker's corporeal projection before quickly diverting into the cascading green light. As more sparks began to draw away from the Dream Walker, the light stream suddenly split off into two separate surges from the ceiling and coursed into the Faravahars imprinted upon the Half-Breed's hands. A hum began to slowly fill into the Vault and within several moments, the cracks within the tomb's covered slab began to glow green as more light began to spill out and onto the Half-Breed's Faravahar symbols. Elsewhere, the Bozorgan's eyes widened in bewilderment as an imaginary aura began to force each strand of blonde hair to stand on end. Blinding green light soon bled from the green light streams and expanded outwards and all across the Vault. Gasping, the Melitan Warrioress dropped her sword and strenuously ripped the glowing slab over the tomb in an attempt to remove the young Al-Mayrin whilst fighting through the blinding green light. Such efforts ultimately proved to unfold in vain as the Warrioress stumbled before the green light, which seemed forceful enough to sweep the woman off her feet. Following a moment where more light began to shroud around the Al-Mayrin's slumbering form, her chest suddenly lurched forward as unseen forces seemingly dragged the Half-Breed forward amidst the Melitan Warrioress' cries of defiance. [/color] [color=8dc73f]"[b]Well then, if you don't wish to believe my words then at the very least you shan't deny the will of Yadin-Hamon. That is your faith, is it not?[/b]" Orionn asked with a nervous tone while edging back towards their camp. He'd felt that energy not just rip through him, but through the Dream. A power like that may have upset the still sleeping Jade, or worse: the entity living in her Dream. "[b]I um... have to check on something. Good luck, you know... with all this[/b]," he said to Pontius, as he gestured to the room in general and then vanished dramatically in a puff of smoke.[/color] [color=0076a3]Shortly before he reached the edges of the opened Tomb, a large pillar of White Light slammed down from above and beyond the ceilings before crashing into the blinding Green Light that not only filled the Vault with a thundering boom, but sent vibrations coursing through the Crypt Walls and carved Stone Facings. Then, just as quickly as the near Divine, supernatural display had begun, the light quickly dissipated and once again shrouded the Vault in poor illumination. It was then that amidst the corridor's gloomy illuminations that [i][b]the Al-Mayrin Seer began to stir from slumber ...[/b][/i][/color]