[center][color=lightsteelblue][h3][i]Shiara Cazarin, bone mage[/i][/h3][/color][/center]

"If what you seek is an answer to [i]whether[/i] he is cursed, then my way would provide it, would it not?" Shiara retorted, when the old man suggested she was stopping him from doing his job.  "I've met none of your 'cursed', but I've encountered other things, things stirred up by the imbalance and the breakdown of usual countermeasures."

She'd made her point, and was going to return the man's shovel since his partner had already broken the ground, but the dusty bubbles soon turned into an outright cave in, and the crumbling dirt and mud sent all four of them tumbling.  

She landed in a painful heap a level below, and even before Shiara regained her feet she could feel the presence of countless graves.  She was covered now in grime, but there were other things to worry about.  The wail of a child -- and how had a child made its way down there?  From inside the church, perhaps, or was it merely a lingering spirit that did not realize it was dead?

The light in the catacombs was not enough for her to see by -- or it wouldn't be, once they left the hole to dreary daylight behind them.  "Noa, if you please," Shiara said, lifting one hand as dull orangey light blossomed in one of her bracelets.  She looked again at the man, now cursing and giving his underling orders.  He'd still not bothered telling her what they were dealing with, and now they were in a right mess.

"I don't suppose you'd care to tell me more about what we're facing now?" she said, turning in a slow circle to help her pinpoint the direction of the cry.