[hr][hr][center][color=darkslategray][h1]Edric Beaumont[/h1][/color][/center][hr][hr]
[color=darkslategray]"You feel it. A calling."[/color] Edric proclaimed, even the phrasing of his words uncertain as to whether he were asking or declaring it. [color=darkslategray]"And what else to do but answer?"[/color] With that, Edric slowly opened the set of doors, prompting an almost violent screech of old wood against rusted metal hinges, moss-covered stone. Inside there was only blackness, a dark cavernous maw ready to swallow up the all-too-eager and curious. But Edric, for all his eccentricity, merely stepped inside, his form soon encompassed by the darkness. Dutifully, the Wolf followed behind, wispy shape dissipating like a cloud of smoke as its vaguely translucent form turned nearly invisible. 

Edric did not stop to wait for Arendal, either confidently assuming he would follow, or uncaring as to what path he chose to take. Edric would wander the ruins regardless, though a part of him couldn't help but like the idea of extra company. The first step inside the ruins was a dour, musky place; filled with the stench of rotten wood and stone, caked with dust that seemed to clog and poison the very air they breathed. 

This place, whatever foul thing infested it, had anticipated visitors. Edric could sense it in the air, the darkness reawoken as life once more teemed in its halls. Rubbing his hands together with the same fervency one would try and strike a flint, an orb of bright light manifested between Edric's palms, floating into the air as he outstretched an open hand to release it. The orb hovered close to his head, illuminating the room in a white glow, likely disturbing anything that dwell within. [color=darkslategray]"Curse these eyes. Rely on them too much, can see everything except what's right in front of you in the dark."[/color]