"Just.... great," Ilyana sighs, unsheathing her cutlass. There could just be a few graves or hundreds, possibly thousands inside - and now all of them were likely stirring after an attack on one of their number.

"We're committed now," she scowls, gritting her teeth as she waded in after the others, the all enveloping darkness turning gray as her real eye adjusted, allowing her to see the undead as they ventured forth from their shelves. Stepping forward, her silvered blade cut their souls' connection to their bones, causing them to fall into a loose pile all over the floor, making a trip hazard worse than any storm-swept deck.

"I didn't come here to fight, but if I must, I shall!" Ilyana roared, separating another skull from its body. At least in these upper levels, many of the bones were too brittle, what weapons they had too rusted to keep up much of a fight. This would change, oh yes. This would change.

There was a ramp, heading downwards towards another level below. She took it, but stayed wary as more approached her.