The door closing shut behind them sent echoes through the catacomb-like halls of the inner fortress. The darkness foreboding, even for ones who had been blessed (or cursed) with such senses as Camilla and Cyrdic. They found themselves within a baroque antechamber, chairs both standing upright and overthrown by something in a mad frenzy from the past were covered in thick dust. Cyrdic should have asked when the last man had braved this venture. 

"Why are we here again?" he whispered to Camilla. Even in such a low volume, he felt it was far too loud. 

Camilla looked at him in shock. "Don't tell me you're getting cold feet!" she remarked as loudly as she dared. 

"I just feel we could use a vacation." He said with a wink. 

She smiled. "Every vacation we have ends up in something like this." she said, reaching up to touch his cheek. They shared a look, and then a longing kiss. They had not had much alone time for quite awhile, and a deserted fortress with an unspeakable evil was about as good of a locked door as they would get. Cyrdic pressed forward a bit, and despite herself Camilla lifted her legs to wrap around his waist as they embraced, before the Tilean's rump would bump against the table. 

The wood was so old it cracked after merely swaying, falling into a broken heap and knocking into an old cupboard, which then toppled in a comical aftershock that caused both of them to let go of one another, their swords out and heads sobered up almost immediately. Cyrdic blinked, holding his head. Seconds passed them by, and he wondered if their sudden embrace was because of some chaos influence, or they were getting far too comfortable facing evils of the ancient world. He dearly hoped it was the former. 

"Let's move." he told her. She nodded, pointing left. "Thees way." 

The two stalked as silently as they could, as swiftly as they could away from the noise they had just caused, going through long abandoned galleries that held paintings that had been created probably centuries ago. Dim sunlight beamed in through stained glass windows, and the air was thick and stuffy, making Cyrdic cover his sensitive nose up with the bottom of his shirt. Briefly he looked behind him as they all but ran, and there was no pursuit by...whatever lurked within. 

He looked back ahead and nearly barrled into Camilla, who had halted and held her hand for him to do the same. "Do you hear it?" she breathed. The big man calmed, and steadied his breathing as he began to listen. At first there was nothing. Nothing he could discern in the depths of the haunted place. But then there was a slight tapping. A pattering in the distance, and then creaks. Something heavy approached. 

Something with claws that scraped the floors. 

Camilla grabbed Cyrdic's shirt to pull him into another passage way, but he was already moving with her as they made it into one of the many middle foyer's of the inner citadel, crouching behind a small strip of wall as whatever had been approaching had now stepped into the hall they had just fled from.  

There was an unnerving stench that suddenly filled Cyrdic's nose, even penetrating his shirt. But it was no ordinary smell. Nothing a living creature could bring. He could smell death, and foul magic that threatened to cause him to gag audibly. He held himself in check, barely.
[@Penny]