[b]“Oh yeah, sure.”[/b]

With that, the mud-drenched warrior released his hold on Amulak, allowing the mage to fall onto the ground with a ‘pomf’. They reached out and interacted with a window that only they could see, red eyes flickering back and forth through various details, before finally saying, [b]“The ruins are up and east from here. Backtrack a bit, then take the left turn down this mossy tunnel, climb up the cliff, then the second right, then keep going through and you’ll make it out through this honeycomb-looking tunnel system. That should bring you about, what, twenty meters above the ruins? Should be able to figure out the rest from there.”[/b]

He grinned at Ames’s own reaction to the place, flashing a set of pearly whites. [b]“Dunno what’s up with you, but I love this place. God the atmosphere’s great for some good ol’ fashion hacking and slashing. But yeah, sounds like y’all aren’t looking for shit here, so go on, skedaddle!”[/b]

And so the party did.

Leaving behind their unfortunate, yet ultimately helpful encounter with the mudbather, the party headed on, conversation between them quiet and largely inconsequential. Over time, their Resources would regenerate again, leaving them with only the memory of the short skirmish, and perhaps in another few days, another few weeks, another few months, even that would be forgotten. Through the desecrated tunnels, the cold dank and the clinging shadows, they walked, climbed, and slid until their destination revealed itself before them.

The eastern cavern, home to the remnants of an underground ruins, was closer to the surface than any of the other places they’ve visited before. Perhaps a few hundred years ago, a sinkhole had been what dropped the village into the depths of the Blasphemed Tunnels, and over time, the roots of the withered tree above had caught and coagulated soil and lesser vegetation until a scattered roof formed overhead, where the white fog of the grove above leaked in, letting some natural light as well. Scattered spotlights lit up various sections of the ruins; mossy heaps where wooden structures once have collapsed, rusted sculptures of some metal framework, and crumpled reminders of where stone walls may have been. From the vantage point they had within the honeycomb tunnels (perhaps openings used by some bug-like creatures that were no longer present), the party could make out movements within the ruins as well.

Amulak and Ames, with their supernatural senses honed by their differing disciplines, were naturally drawn to the southwestern section of the ruins, where the pure-white bones of the skeletons stood in contrast to their filthy surroundings. Though inanimate and all just laid out in unassuming heaps, a keen eye could tell that their skulls were opening and closing, teeth clicking together in a facsimile of speech. Scattered broadly over around a rotten estate, the skeletons didn’t look like they were a threat, but perhaps it was simply a matter of proximity. Anyone who played a horror game would know to treat dead bodies as possible threats, after all.

Raime, his physical senses sharper than most, picked out the presence of the goat-headed monsters that the necromancer had recalled before. Taking the entire northern section of the ruins, they seemed to possess some degree of human intellect and were even disturbingly human in form. Every single specimen looked to be male, with the bare chest of a muscular human and the furred limbs and hooves of a goat, accompanied by a goat head that looked twice as large as it should be on a body their size. Walking around with hunched poses, they stoked fire, worked leather, and affixed the skulls of various other monsters onto stakes, as if establishing their own territory. Occasionally, bursts of activity would catch his attention as well, the scout watching as two or three of the goat-headed monsters would break into a violent brawl, their fists blasting chunks of flesh off each others’ bodies until one of them fell and were promptly eaten by the other. Violent, bloody business, brutality crystallized into further revulsion with his realistic visuals setting.

It was Magpie and Klein, unburdened by any particular ‘sense’ granted by their jobs, who spotted that motionless figure sitting atop a withered tree that sprouted out from the center of a mostly intact but heavily dilapidated building. Wrapped in a dark cloak and cradling a sheathed katana that occasionally sparked with lightning, their face was turned to face northwards, trained on the boundary between the north and the southeastern portions of the ruins.  Corpses of goat-headed monsters, numbering almost a dozen, cooled upon the cold stone of that same invisible boundary. A guard then. A familiar one.

Lugh.
[sub][@Shovel][@Searat][@Psyker Landshark][@OwO][@Yankee][/sub][hr]
Ari’s head remained connected to her head as she quickly scampered into the cramped wagon. Inside, it felt as if the floor of the wagon was higher than it needed to be, but a sturdy bottom may be what was needed to hold up the weight of all the carpets heaped on top. Rolling out one of the fluffiest ones wasn’t much of a great experience though, as even the most luxurious feeling one just felt more like a mat rather than anything that one could sink their exhausted feet into. Better than hard stone, perhaps, but nothing meant for a rich man to have. Surrounded by these carpets, however, it was clear that more than a few of them smelled old. Moldy may not have been the right word for it, but there was a definite smell of dirt and moss.

A strange smell for sure, when they haven’t even spent a full day in the wild yet.

But another problem emerged soon enough. Her ears perked up at Man-Joji calling out behind him in a foreign tongue, before footsteps sounded closer and closer to the wagon. Ari had seconds at most to respond, whether to come up with a lie or to hide herself. Escaping undetected, certainly, would be even more difficult than those two options: while her speed was superhuman, such speed was without a doubt [i]loud[/i]. Whatever evidence of misdeeds Ari looked for was not yet found, and the merchant who expressively forbid interaction with the wagon was now approaching.

What was she to do?
[sub][@GreenGoat][/sub]