Cyrdic guessed they should count themselves lucky. Just like modern Brettonians, these undead Knights of Old didn't carry the longbows the peasantry did, the Knightly class considering such a weapon cowardly. Still, they only had a brief respite. "I don't intend on running forever," Cyrdic replied, still intent on slaying the source of this permeating evil. But they needed to move now, and Cyrdic opted they move left, as the Knights had (at least seemed) to have turned right. 

They fled the light of the central chamber into a lesser, upper hallway lined with worn paintings and web encrusted candelabras. Cyrdic took point while Camilla kept her eyes on the rear and their sides, noting the small doors framing the hall and peering into each if she had the chance to. Once they made it to the edge of the hall, Cyrdic opened the once hardy door and found themselves in a stairwell. If this was a less serious situation, it would have been humorous when Cyrdic halted at the top of the stairs to stare into the witchfire eyes of the undead Knight that looked up at him, both having stopped for a heartbeat to acknowledge the other. 

Cyrdic didn't even bother to tell Camilla to run, instead turning around and lifting her up by the waist for a quick second to drop her back into the hallway, closing the door behind them and then using his intense strength to heave a large cabinet to block the doorway. "That way is occupied." he said. Camilla pointed at the 2nd door to the left. "There! There could be a way out through that one!" 

Cyrdic punched the ancient wood twice, shattering it into kindling and stepping through. It looked to be an old servant's bedroom, only there was a gaping hole in the floor, with the planks protruding upwards. For a moment, Cyrdic could visually imagine a creature of the dead bursting into the room to devour whoever rested in here, thinking they were safe. Well, it was a way out now. As the Knights began to hack at the door and the cabinet, Cyrdic scooped Camilla up once more and leaped. She squacked but clung to him, and they whisked down onto the ground floor... 

Only to break through the floor and fall another dozen feet onto a dirt laden, hard ground inside a stone wrought catacomb. The two were tangled in a mass of limbs, but Camilla reoriented herself and leaped up, helping Cyrdic to recover as well. "Ranalds Roguish Cock, what is this place?" she cursed, stomping her booted foot into the ground. Cyrdic gazed up at the broken floor they had fallen through, knowing any minute a host of undead would swoop down from above. 

Cyrdic had to guess this was a crypt from the elder days, probably made near Aquitaine's founding. Of course he was by no means an expert in Brettonian history, but he knew castles well and many times the crypts were the oldest parts of fortifications, made for the bravest warriors that conquered the land, and the first workers that began to build the vast structure of this fortress.  

"We need to move." He told her. "Your turn to choose."
[@Penny]