Verdant listened with a thoughtful tilt of her head, nodding at the deduction from the masked elf. It was... a sensible chain of events. As much as she couldn't agree with the behavior.

"...right, most people are near-suicidally unprepared to sudden change." The serpent said plainly, her eyes and the skull's eyehole on her head glimmering bright emerald for a split second. She wasn't mocking or anything - merely stating the nature of things, the same way one may observe the scurrying circle of life out in the wilds. "We wouldn't be caught out like that, Vir. We knows better, yes?"

For a moment, it's as if the piece of bone hissed softly in agreement. Or perhaps it's merely the airflow shifting from the opened door. Hard to tell under the circumstances.

Said door interrupted her train of thought, Elc half-dragging her in before the blasted thing fully closed. Verdant didn't need the urging, but it's a nice gesture nonetheless. Emerald eyes flickered at the well-lit hallway, completely out of place compared to the cavern just on the other side.

"From the position, that door leads toward that broken room." Verdant mentioned in a passing at the miko, stepping away five steps before rummaging in her bag for a pebble. Of which she tossed at the barred door, the small stone clattering without anything extra happening. What? Pebbles are useful! Always bring a small handful or two. You'll never know when you'll need it. "Flimsy guard for how creepy the air is."

She would've expect, like, a massive vault door laden with magic. Not two plain iron bar that even she could batter down from the other side given enough time. But perhaps the magic thingy was inside, and this was more of a stopgap measure? Still kind of sloppy though.

But then again Verdant's not the vault expert here, so what did she know.

Following along the rest of the party led to some sort of fancy foyer that somehow kept fresh air, unlike what one would expect of a structure sealed underground for millenia. The serpent oooh-s at the statues, eyes darting left and right until the ethereal curator materialized with a spectral flourish.

Neat.

"Are you a ghost?" Turned out, Verdant did have a question. She skipped toward the curator, circling and looking at him from various angle, and even tried to poke the man. Ghost? Apparition thingy. "Bound to an artifact to provide eternal servitude to a master sorcerer?"

"Are you a ghost?" Turned out, Verdant did have a question. She skipped toward the curator, circling and looking at him from various angle, and even tried to poke the man. Ghost? Apparition thingy. "Bound to an artifact to provide eternal servitude to a master sorcerer?"

Touching the curator gave off an experience similar to interacting with Verdant's ethereal companion. You could feel it, but at the same time, you would see your finger go through. The curator was slightly offended by the bold gesture and gently pushed Verdant's hand, yet he remained composed enough to answer her question.

"I am what people nowadays call an Ancient Djinn," he peered, studying the other snake resting under that monstrous skull-cap before turning to Veredant as if confirming to her that she knew what he meant.

"I am also known as The Warden by those permitted to see my true form. I possess the ability to move between my posts in just a few moments. I am eternal as long as I can find my purpose, and this collection is one of the few places where that purpose exists. So, no, young one, I am bound to nothing and no one."

Chuckling to finish his pompous rejoinder, he added. "In short, this is like a job to me. And I am entitled to take a bi-weekly leave should I wish."

---

Fia held a hand to her cheek as the group discussed what happened to the previous possessors of the scepter that Fia now had held. “Tragic, the poor dear. Either stumbling across it and hoping to use it to escape, or even it the device that had brought them into this den of despair in the first place. In either case, it was their only lifeline after coming across such solid a wall. One can only imagine the fear they must have felt to realize it would not transport them again.”
Not the most enlightening considering the party was sharing the very space that became those skeleton’s graves. Fia held the scepter up near her face and gave Miwa a smile. Though the young miko was worried about potential curse of the scepter and wary of the ancient magic potential it harbored, Fia did not share the sentiment. Of course, Fia wasn’t going to play with it either, but keeping it in hand as some suggested was just fine for her. At the very least, Fia knew she could dampen any backfiring in one way or another should it ever come to that.
“Not to worry, darling. I’m confident in my abilities as a mage. However, It’s a fine idea to watch yourself when it comes to power beyond your understanding. Until you harness it yourself, one can never truly know just how that power will manifest.” Fia gingerly placed the scepter within her bad, though it poked out of it a little as it’s length was slightly longer than the dimensions of her bag. At least there was no risk of it falling out on accident.
Soon excitement replaced the melancholy as the door finally opened. Like a switch, Vesemir hurried inside while his subordinates watched the door. Fia was one of those who waltzed right in with no worry. Though, perhaps that might not have been entirely true. The doors set to the side, barred with steel beams felt just a haunting as the broken wall of the room before. Given the door’s location, it was probably the same room. Easily avoidable as the closing door behind the group would block any path any entity could easily access to reach the main hall.
The hall itself was well lit despite the centuries the place was supposedly abandoned. While dust and debris still covered most of the surfaces, that was the only evidence of having lacked any foot traffic. Otherwise, water flowed through the fountain, the crystal light fixtures completely illuminated the space. That is, the lights illuminated only the immediate space, the area farther down the hall was drowned in darkness in stark contrast to the illuminated antechambers. Perhaps some upkeep was maintained in this facility, unless even the plumbing was controlled my magical artifacts.
Regardless, it turned out the place was not entirely empty of life. The group was suddenly beholden to a ghostly figure revealed in the form of a mysterious voice. A curator of nonhuman nature. Despite his spectral nature, Fia could tell he was no mere ghost. What kind of djinn Fia couldn’t say just yet, but a djinn he definitely was. And after the reveal of the curated artifacts in the room he stood in front of, he confirmed it as he answered the serpent yokai’s question.
“My favorite little snake and my new favorite ancient djinn becoming friends? The artifacts might be the selling feature of the vault, but this is what I live for.” said Fia cheerfully. It would be a lie to say Fia wasn’t interested in the catalysts, trinkets, and other devices within the strangely immaculate room behind Arcan, but it has always been the inherent power that the djinn contained that fascinated the mage in red.
“I for one would love to be one of those to see your true form. With a name such as the Warden, you must be a rather imposing individual, darling?” said Fia. She smiled before wandering near the newly accessible room, following anyone inside, mainly the man who carried the most enthusiasm about the facility, Vesemir.

The young kunoichi tagged along as their three figure of herself kept formation from backline, next to Eblana and frontline along with the vanguard party member like Masked Wandering Knight. They went further until they encountered the called the ethereal form one Ancient Djinn and also The Warden. Akaris are posed no threat and no hostility to The Warden, in fact that ninjas do respect the souls.

"Mr. Arcan, we thank you for your hospitality. As the curator of this gallery, I assume you are well informed about the sinister powers that can be felt in some places... right?"

"You mean the remains of that pesky necromancer in the detention chamber outside the vault? Yes, I know it well. Unless you are talking about the foul beast's nest surrounding this compound."

Finally, the indifference in the Curator's face shifted into a slight disgust.

"Bah, where do I start? Like you, he and his lackeys came here ten years ago, posing as a novice wizard bearing the keycard. Naturally, I granted him the privileges. All went well, and no misgivings arose until he conducted his tour. It was when the time for them to leave, his lackeys felt disappointed with the treasure he selected. I didn't want to know how they resolved it, and I didn't want to hear their quarrel, so I showed him the door. It didn't go well for the Wizard, for his lackeys subdued him and locked him in the confinement room. Presumably, after taking everything worth taking. Typical of humans and their greed."

“I for one would love to be one of those to see your true form. With a name such as the Warden, you must be a rather imposing individual, darling?”

The curator shook his head, unflattered by both the request and the supposed compliment. He gazed at Fia when the moman sauntered past the door and did not fail to recognize the artifact she brought. "No, you don't want to," he said, "Back to my story, that scepter was one of the artifacts the Wizard chose."

"Really? We looted it from the corpses not far from your door, so... you want it back?" Stepan said anxiously.

"Maybe," the curator replied. "Considering what happened earlier, I should have asked you to hand it over, but I think you can keep it; I see that it has been rendered unusable by its previous owner. But I tell you that thousands of souls were lost as a result of that artifact's power."

"How?" asked Mr. Elc.

"I will tell you now, let me continue my story about that wizard ten years ago. So they locked him there, with nary a provision to his name. Did he give up? Nay! Apparently, he planned a profane ritual in that chamber, using that artifact to trap several dozen innocent people in the tunnels, letting them die by the beast or exhaustion. After two full moons, he then revealed himself. A necromancer, apparently, and somehow capable of shackling the souls of those who died near him, and he absorbed those souls, using them to empower himself and then escape from his prison. A terrible visitor, really, and I am afraid he is now roaming free, spreading terror and needless death."

"Why didn't you do anything about it? Maybe dealing with the necromancer? Or stopping the ritual before it finished?"

The curator shook his head, and this time, there was no pride in his vibrating, netherworldy voice.

"I humbly accept the blame for that oversight. While my main job is to protect the vault, the directive from Theriadore is also to deal with evil, should they come here. I should have been more judicious. If you want to investigate, please do, and I will assist you as best I can. The room is harmless to me, the collections, and to you, should you wish to explore it.

Rezello

---

As the metal slab receded into the ground, Rezello entered after the others into the once-sealed corridor, followed shortly after by Elc and Verdant as the slab of a door sealed once more. The door at the end of the passageway they found themselves in was of similar make, and it seemed as one was opened the other closed, likely as a security measure. As he moved down the corridor, Rezello extinguished his remaining flame, the light of which had been drowned out by the structure’s own lighting. Aside from the door Vesemir had already begun to open, a smaller set of doors stood at the end of a passage that branched off from the main hall, sealed with a far simpler mechanism than the two heavy slabs - metal bars, jamming it shut. The same vile aura that he had felt from the darkness behind the shattered wall could be felt radiating from the doors; evidently, it hadn’t been enough to prevent whatever used to be in that room from escaping its confinement.

Putting aside the thought of the evil room - and whatever had once been in it - Rezello continued into the next chamber, a large square room that presented two new directions; another sealed slab-door to the left, and what appeared to be another hallway identical to the one they were currently exiting opposite, though it was difficult to tell as its lighting had ceased to function. A fountain in the center and a pair of statues on the wall to the right served as decor. The latter reminded Rezello of secret passageways he had encountered in ruins before, flanked on both sides with similar structures as a reminder of their location. Perhaps in their exploration they’d stumble across some hidden switch or lever.

After taking a moment to admire the room, Vesemir began another of his characteristic speeches, only to be interrupted by the appearance of an unfamiliar individual - a man dressed in formal garb, though from the abilities he casually displayed it was clear he was no mere human. He introduced himself as the curator of the vault, opening the western door and inviting the party to view - and claim two of - the artifacts held within. He also offered to answer any questions they had, and question him they did - though the questions asked generally had more to do with the curator’s nature than anything to do with the artifacts on display. When Miwa questioned about the lingering magic in the sealed room, Arcan recounted a story of a necromancer that had previously visited the gallery, apparently having taken the scepter as his treasure... and, after being betrayed by his cohorts, having used its power to summon the people that had died in the tunnels.

The hypothesis Rezello had been formulating seemed to be confirmed. The dead bodies of people from Scheel they had found in the tunnels had been summoned as fuel for this necromancer’s magic. Yet at the same time, more questions were raised - “dozens” would only account for a small portion of those that had vanished from Scheel. Furthermore, why specifically the people of Scheel? Did the necromancer have some connection to the city? Or perhaps the scepter itself was somehow linked with Scheel - after all, its location was chosen to safeguard something. What that was, though, Rezello had no idea. The details on that was something either lost to time or known only to a select few within Scheel.

As Arcan finished his offer to assist investigating the room - a detention chamber, as he had called it - Rezello spoke. “This scepter... its power, do you know how it worked? Or perhaps, did Theriadoere leave behind any information, notes or some such on it?”

@Valkon

“This scepter... its power, do you know how it worked? Or perhaps, did Theriadoere leave behind any information, notes or some such on it?”

"The notes or any record about this teleporter were claimed by Westernant soon after the project was finished. Where the records are now, I do not know." The-not-so-spectral man turned his body and spent quite a while studying the masked knight, as if there was something on him that rang a bell; no doubt it had to be about the grotesque elven mask Rezello was wearing. "Interesting..." he muttered, before finally addressing the question.

"But I can tell you what I know. The scepter was a collaborative creation involving human magicians and Theriadore himself. It was designed for a strategic purpose: to instantly teleport a large number of soldiers to various locations, enabling them to strike the Elf Queen's defenses where her most astute general would least expect it. Naturally, something as wonderful as that requires a lot of testing, revisions, and re-testing, often at the expense of the soldiers participating in the effort of perfecting the tool. It had claimed hundreds of lives even before it was deployed in action."

Sighing under his breath, the curator took one last glance at the golden scepter before continuing. "It teleports any living entity and anything that is in direct contact with them up to eight furlongs around the device and sends them to four landing areas designated by the controller. You will need someone who is either equipped with the controller ring or someone who has learned the activation spell to operate the device. After casting, the mana would be spent, and it needs a Wellspring caster to recharge it for eight days. But I doubt that's possible now. Look at the missing gem; you will need all eight so the device can receive mana, and the damage on its crown was so bad that it had damaged the spell transmitter."

"Eight days is a steep delay. If Serensiel wasn't defeated, I wouldn't have known if this thing was practical. Still, it seems Miss Fia's assessment was right. It's a priceless artifact dating from the times even the wisest don't talk much about."

"Alas, that's just how it is," enunciated the curator.

@13org

"Purifying curses and evil spirits is already rather dangerous, especially considering the type of curses that are being dealt with, but facing a necromancer is even more so. Between me and Fia, I am sure we have the necessary skills to deal with most, if not all dangers regarding curses, evil spirits and dark magic we could face. But dealing with a necromancer can definitely prove to be challenging." Miwa said after hearing Arcan as she looked to the group.

"You don't have to face him now." Said the curator. "But, I will not say it is unwise should you decide to let him be someone else's problem. I know if it's a tall order, whether it is now or later, and the risk is too high. But regarding the stain he left in that room, he will not return here for any foreseeable future. The necromancer had established a new lair far away, somewhere in Nuria, the ruined former capital city. I believed he had planned it too, as the location where the other group of teleported civilians would arrive."

"As a Miko, dealing with such things is my duty. As it is offering the proper rites and a final rest to the spirits of those unjustly murdered, but I am aware that in the end, this is not the reason I was hired nor the reason we are here." Miwa said in a serious tone.

"Regardless of my personal feelings or my duty as a Miko, the final decision of what we will do regarding the necromancer lies with the leaders of this expedition." she completed as she looked towards Elc and Vesemir, but Vesemir had gone deeper into the gallery.

"I think your intention is the noblest of all those who have come here. However, treat my words as nothing but idle encouragement. I is wiser to discuss what you would do next with your friends..." said the curator.

Mr Elc initially didn't want to involve himself in the conversation, but the more he heard, the more he questioned the soundness of his way of thinking.

"I find it quite bizarre that you speak about the wise and unwise. Was it wise of you to allow a random wizard to claim that artifact? Didn't you think it could be misused if it fell into the wrong hands?"

"The scepter is useless without a handler to activate it remotely. I did not know that Wizard was one of them, or how that particular ancient spell could be learned again. Young man, I understand that you might be upset, but my employer's directive was clear. The wizard had the ticket and thus, the privilege, and it wasn’t my place to question it until he posed a threat to the things I protect."

"Still. It's not an excuse to not think," the masked elf's voice began to rise, filled with emotion of perplexity.

"Oh, I've been thinking about it thoroughly. Some things were mistakes, but most are not. If you want me to think about the death of the people by that Wizard's doing, and feel bad about it, then I ask why should I? For countless eons, I have distanced myself from any of the mortals' affairs, and it suited me just fine and probably for the best. Guard the vault, and eliminate evil that threatens this vault should they come. Those are my purpose, and nothing more."

"Shallow purpose," scoffed Mr. Elc. "You literally hand out weapons of great power to anyone, and you refuse to use your power to deal with the problem it caused. Many lives could be saved from that tunnel should you intervene, but you did not!"

The curator countered. "Only the ticket-bearer may have the privilege."

" Which is the same as saying anyone can get anything as long as they have the ticket."

"True, and those were Theriadore's will."

"Then it's on Theriadore's oversight where the blame lies."

The curator's spectral eyebrows furrowed. He had maintained a composed disposition, even after a barrage of censures from the masked elf. It was, however, another matter when Theriadoere's name was being mentioned; he straightened himself and spoke in a resonating voice that could make even the bravest tremble.

"Disparage not my master as long as you remain in his sanctuary! He only entrusted it to a select few whom he believed would carry on his legacy. It was not his fault that they betrayed his trust, abandoning his work and letting his last gifts be lost and scattered. It's too late to fret when you have a thousand years to rebuild instead of abandoning and forgetting what my master had built! I say the Malaikh had it coming; if they care so much about the treasure falling into the wrong hands, why don't they come here and recover the legacy of my master? Keep it in their glittering palace, guarded as national treasures. And then the Malaikh will have no problem with random necromancer killing people that are not even their kind. The audacity of you trying to hold me accountable is laughable!"

The exchange would have been longer had Stepan not stepped up to remind the masked elf to stop. Regardless, the result would have been the same. The curator was as unmoving as a boulder; he stayed, as if daring whoever to pick up where the debate had been left off. It wouldn't turn violent as long as the ammunition they threw at each other was words and what-ifs.



In the next chamber, the renowned archaeologist Vesemir Barandir ran his fingers across rows of books neatly arranged on a wooden shelf, looking for any form of indexing to make his search easier. He had immersed himself in the wonder of this fully functioning gallery, and it was now time to deal with the task at hand.

There was no particular reason why he chose that shelf to be the first object of his interest, just a pure intuition, something that he had been relying on for centuries. When he reached for a blue-jacketed book, he grinned. His intuition was right again. Sure, he had considered asking the curator about this particular item, but that was a lousy idea. Finding it by yourself makes the experience more rewarding.

"Eblana, my dear, I think I find it."

Vesemir opened it on top of a large, ornate desk, and Eblana stood ready by his side. The book provided a detailed account of the particular project Theriadore worked on; the subject was about the rampaging post-war spirits and wraiths infesting the region, and the research needed to combat the corruption. The first chapter explained the need, the second explained the research, and the third described the result. In the fourth chapter, a diagram was inserted among the pages. Something that he could already notice even before he opened the book, and could have just taken straight out without needing to be sequential, but that was just Vesemir for you.

The archaeologist set his lantern on the desk, as if the light in the chamber was inadequate, or simply just needed his work to feel personal. He then began examining the diagram while opening his own book to cross-check the references. This process may take some time, or possibly hours.

----

Some time had passed...

Jazdia was in the workshop with Vesemir and Eblana, listening to their mumblings. Occasionally, she would join the conversation, but at that moment, the elven archer was wandering between a round table made of stone that resembled old wood and the nearby bookshelves. She had spent a few minutes trying to familiarize herself with the surroundings, and although she didn't admire it as much as Vesemir did, she could appreciate how the vault had been well-maintained for 1,800 years.

"I thought the artifact you are looking for was in the form of a scroll or an enchanted trinket." Chimed Jazdia.

"No, no. Theriadore was unlike any master artificer in his time. His research produced results that were designed to be accessible to anyone with the appropriate expertise."

"That was very noble of him."

"Yes, he was. And to further reinforce my point, according to this diagram, everything we need is here, and the instructions are clear: the spell can be infused into an item. Just look at it! The key lies in understanding the spell itself, which, in this case, draws on the nature of ethereal beings that inherently oppose the laws of creation. Eblana, do we still have that runestone available?"

Jazdia decided not to take the invitation. Despite having some understanding of the topic, her input would be insignificant at best, and Vesemir had already delegated half of the work to Eblana. So she instead looked for the clue that would help lift her curse...

"You seem to know Thereiadore a lot," the elven ranger pried again after taking a book from a shelf and reading the first chapter about curses and poison.

"My great-grandfather worked with him. The story about his contribution was passed down for generations. Of course, I did my own research too. "

"Now, that makes sense. Was your great-grandfather Theriadore's assistant?"

"No, he was his gardener."

Jazdia smiled concernedly. "...you don't say."

---

Fia was not swayed by Arcan’s rebuttal of Fia’s desire. Djinn mostly consisted of solitary creatures than anything else. While Arcan might not be as such, Fia was used to these mystical entities being more closed off. Still, Arcan’s true form might be one of those whose presence alone is enough to cause harm. A question Fia could prod later. All of this to say, while the opportunity remained, Fia would try to learn more of what made Arcan, well, Arcan.
But such a moment might have to wait. Grave matters were being discussed, and it would be rude to interrupt such dealings at that time. Fia removed the scepter from her bag as it was becoming the focus of the conversation. Rezello had invested interest in its workings, and Arcan spoke cautiously of it. Damaged as it was, it still exuded power, though not much. A clear vessel to something miraculous.
Fia was already impressed by the mere idea that long distance teleportation could be contained and accessed inside a magical sceptre. To learn the work and reason behind its development, and such rigorous testing it underwent just to guarantee success gave wonder to just how special a find it was. However, to also learn of each defect that had befallen it after its most recent use did put a damper on it. Even if Fia could somehow charge it despite the missing mana defined gem, without the activation ring, or the spell chant itself, it was practically useless. Even if it had power, Fia could not activate it under normal means.
“If I’m hearing this right, those tickets are not something anyone wandering the street would find stuck underneath the farmer’s trolley. And given the complexity of the scepter itself, the necromancer was no mere bystander. He had motive and ability. It’s hardly anyone’s fault such a man found the means of infiltrating the vault to get what he wanted. Whether it could have been avoidable doesn’t matter. It has happened, and they can do is learn from it, darling Mr. Elc.” said Fia. Whether it was used as intended was not fully expanded on, but regardless, it was charged and used recently. At least when compared to when it was built. To only pull a dozen people felt a little underneath its potential.
Fia gave pause as Miko spoke about the last known location of the necromancer, that room just before the foyer, barred shut, and contaminated with malicious energy. “If you wish to speak to Vesemir about it, he and the others have been perusing the cabinet of curiosities for the moment. Whatever they decide, you can let me know. I’ll lend you my magic should you require it of me. I admit I’m a little curious of the lingering energies that the room is contaminated with. Necromancy is one of those schools of magic that has never really come up during my studies.
Fia turned to face Arcan. She turned her head to Rezello. It was hard to read just what he was thinking. The metal mask over his face made it impossible to see whatever expressions he might be having. But the tone of his voice and posture exuded sorrow and contemplation. This was probably the first and biggest lead the knight had towards uncovering what happened in Scheel. “Dear Arcan, you said it could teleport people near it it. Is that the only way? How did the feigning novice wizard teleport people from a city several miles away from the sceptre itself, trapped within that room of the vault entrance? Then to have only twelve individuals appear at one of four landing sites. An entire city disappeared after all; twelve feels low. It sounds like beyond choosing a landing site, the necromancer couldn't choose where anyone would show. This scepter seems the most likely culprit to what happened to that city ten years ago simply because it can mass teleport an army. But what happened isn't lining up. Is there anything else you can recall about it?"

After that heated argument with Mr Elc, the Curator looked as if he would prefer to be somewhere else, but he stayed anyway, maybe for the sake of professionalism. However, when the next question came, it somehow perplexed him even more that he didn't even bother to be formal anymore.

"Maybe simply because he had all the cards needed? I don't know. If I have the scepter, already primed and powered, and I somehow have the control ring or am savvy enough to cast the spell without one, I think I can do that even if I were trapped inside a conch buried deep in the abyss."

"No, Sir. I think the question is how could he activate it without being near it?" Interjected Stepan.

"It was designed to be able to be activated remotely. I thought that was something we all already know."

"Well... I didn't know."

Arcan shook his head, uninterested in entertaining the remark. Instead, he turned to Fia again.

"Now, young miss, you said there were twelve individuals?" The curator looked at her searchingly. A pause ensued. Clearly, he did not enjoy dissecting the result of his own oversight, but still, he pressed on after letting out a spectral sigh.

"I don't know where you get that number. The Necromancer ensnared many in the tunnels, and while the exact number is hard to pinpoint, it was certainly much more than just twelve. He escaped with power enough not only to resurrect himself, but also to shatter the outer wall. That would require a lot of souls to power. No, not twelve. Many were killed, and the beast of darkness must have picked most of the remains clean. I have nothing else to tell you, but I do not doubt that he is responsible for the disappearance of your townspeople, though I did not witness the process myself."

The curator shrugged, and his presence faded out, signifying the end of his part in their soiree. For someone who maintained an aloof disposition on human affairs, he had spoken a lot more than he actually liked.

---

“I’m sorry darling,” said Fia. In retrospect, maybe she should have actually paid more attention to what the djinn was saying instead of only half listening while trying to figure out the nature of Arcan’s ethereal body capable of physical interaction. “You already told us you had limited information, and I wanted to push just how much you knew. Well, what’s done is done. I’m sorry my dear, Rezello. We may have found the initial problem. Somehow, this sceptre ended up in Scheel, and it along with everyone there was sent back here. What happened to the rest at the other three landing points, their fates were probably not much kinder. Perhaps if you find that necromancer.”
Fia held the sceptre in her hands. It was broken, unable to be charged, but still held the spell within. If it was controlled remotely, then there had to still be a connection. Fia channeled some magic into the sceptre. Like following a string, Fia tried to trace the controller Arcan spoke of. For a moment, Fia could sense it. The controller was close, likely somewhere still in the vault. The contaminated room, perhaps? Either the wizard was still here, or he abandoned it after getting what he wanted. The sceptre was still in the hands of the man who clutched it after the teleportation, so it was unclear if the wizard even knew of its condition. He probably knew that he couldn’t recharge it quickly. Either way, it seemed that lead was cut short.
“If you like, darling, you can have this instead.” said Fia to Rezello. “It seems intimately tied to your backstory, and in its current condition, I don’t think it will be of much use. Its controller is nearby, though. Maybe we will stumble upon it when our darling Miko decides to purify that barred room. There seems like the place to find it. If not, I wonder where else inside the vault that necromancer plundered.”

When Miwa arrived at the workshop, Vesemir was hovering above a round enchantment table, almost at an unsafe distance, looking closely at the glowing scroll reacting to a round basalt stone placed on a socket near it. Light flashed multiple times as the process was nearly finished, and runic words started to appear on the basalt's surface.

"Excuse-me, Mr. Vesemir. I am sorry to interrupt you but Arcan gave us some important information regarding the cursed rooms, the victims in the tunnels and the necromancer who seems to be responsible for both..." Miwa said, stopping at the entrance of the workshop and announcing her arrival before approaching Vesemir and telling him about what Arcan told them about the necromancer.

"Go on..." the archaeologist said, eyes still glued on the enchantment table.

"The necromancer seems to have made a lair for itself far from here, so it is not an immediate threat... Although I would like to express my desire to deal with it, either sooner or later. Allowing it to roam freely would not only be turning a blind eye to the suffering of the countless victims he made and the countless more in the future." Miwa said with a serious tone.

Vesemir waved his hand, eyes still monitoring the finalization occuring in that enchantment table. "Yes yes. I'll allow it. Please do---"

That until Jazdia grabbed him by his shoulders and yank him off the table to face Miwa. "Listen to her and Do it properly, will you!"

"Ow! Slow down, young lady! I heard her too you know. Ahem So, you managed to get something out of that Curator's eh? Well, a lich roaming around killing people do sounds bad," he paused, eyes briefly stole a glance on the finished item behind him. He looked at Wiwa again, this time with wide, accomplished smile across his face. "so any plan?"

"For now though, I would like to ask the permission to purify the cursed room left behind by the necromancer together with Fia. Besides being my duty as a Miko, I am sure we should be able to gain some important insight on how to deal with the necromancer's curses and powers, should we decide to face him later on."

"Simple, orderly. I like it! And I just have the right tool to aid you."

The smile on his face was almost obscene when he turned around to pick a newly-finished runestone and announced proudly: "Gather around, everyone, and show me your blades! We will make weapons that can kill a Lich King!"

Hoisted by Vesemir, the basalt runstone looked about the size of a palm. Appearance-wise, it's a bit unassuming, except for the runic words on its surface that emit a bluish glow.

"So basically the wizard stole a bunch of people with that artifact, eats them, then stole an entire town for... whatever he wants?" Verdant summarized the entire exchange, not quite getting the finer details but she had a sharp knack to simplify things into a more precisely pared chunk. "And we're going after this guy? Like, not to be the leech under your scales, but with a relatively few people eaten he broke that wall and left a room that tasted like wet bones and screams. And now he got ten years to work off how many sacrifices again?"

Tens of thousand. The serpent was familiar enough with the concept, but a number that immense wasn't something she can easily visualize. An entire town's worth? If all those people were to be laid down side by side... it'll form a line several miles long. She can hardly wrap her head around a bloodshed that great.

"Can we even take him on? The lair is probably infested with walking corpses." This was, like, a job for an army. Not a band of adventurers.

"So basically the wizard stole a bunch of people with that artifact, eats them, then stole an entire town for... whatever he wants?" "And we're going after this guy? Like, not to be the leech under your scales, but with a relatively few people eaten he broke that wall and left a room that tasted like wet bones and screams. And now he got ten years to work off how many sacrifices again?"

"Can we even take him on? The lair is probably infested with walking corpses."

@A5G

"If the entire story of the wizard causing this massive destruction was true, then the correct course of action you should take is to return and contact the authority. Then they will contact the Westernant and then, after they have their bureaucratic hurdle sorted out, maybe in two or three years, an investigation team will then be dispatched."

Jazdia could sense the scholar's unhappy stare, as if the world 'returning' was a new kind of taboo. "It's reckless to decide things based on unconfirmed accounts and conjectures," Vesemir argued, his words slightly stammering, which concealed his apprehension. "Let us not forget that the news-bearer is not omniscient."

A pause ensued, and the silence grew into eeriness. Everyone knew who he was referring to, and very likely expected the curator to materialize himself in front of them to explain himself, but he did not appear, seemingly holding on to his principle of not giving a damn.

"Relax, as one of your advisors, I am not saying you should turn back now."

"I, too, as one of his advisors, think he should. Verdant has a point." Countered Mr. Elc, who stood facing her with arms crossing over his chest. "Well prepared as we may be, the threats are both physical and from the immaterial."

"That's fair. However, I would like to share my perspective on the concerns that have been raised. If the Lich is currently cooped up in Nuria, then I am not sure he has much to work with. Ancient spirits and occasionally the weaker ones, those are what populate the land of twilight for a good millennium. His means of kidnapping people have been broken, and he had no other means; otherwise, we would have heard about another Scheel accident. I do not doubt that Lich is strong, but he is nowhere unkillable. We can take him out even if we are one person fewer."

"We never heard about Scheel until recently. But I... you are right, another kind of accident would be impossible to cover up. But I still think the best course of action is, like you said earlier, to return." He sighed despairingly. "But needless to say, it seems I am the minority here."

Jazdia reached for her pocket and grasped a silver pocket watch by its chain. "Here," the ranger presented it to Vesemir to enchant, an affirmation of her resoluteness. "I suppose it doesn't have to be weapons, right?"

"Correct," the old elf nodded, hesitating a bit as he glanced at the pocketwatch and the bow slung on Jazdia's back "but Lista adh plume are more personal."

The ranger chuckled. "This one will do just fine."

With an intense smashes on skip button. Akari fixated for current matter. Once the archeologist called out to their arms to gather and to enhance, she nodded. The young kunoichi unsheathe her blade and place it enchantment table followed up with big shuriken and remaining kunais, giving him a smug face with a thumbs up.

Rezello

---

Rezello had much to consider. The curator had proven a valuable source of information, much of which answered several of his questions, yet inevitably also introduced some new mysteries to dig into. He now knew why Scheel had been the site of the incident, and why they only found a fraction of the vanished - teleported - populace within the tunnels. The main questions at hand now were the locations of the other three destinations of the scepter’s magic and that of the necromancer that had performed the ritual; the last living being that could be held responsible for the fate of his home. The answer to the former could probably be found in the records the curator had mentioned, though unfortunately it seemed they were back in Westernant, in some government archive - if not destroyed to suppress sensitive and potentially dangerous information. To think, he had been delving into ruins and pillaging dungeons for lost grimoires when he should’ve been fighting his way through bureaucracy. A far more perilous task, certainly.

While Rezello contemplated Arcan’s words, Elc had gotten into an argument with the curator, who had taken his leave. His concentration was broken when Fia offered him the scepter, which he looked down at for a moment before taking it off her hands. With the magic drained, several missing gemstones, and a damaged mechanism, it currently was little more than an expensive relic, but perhaps they would find a use for it later on. For now, it would serve as a marker of Rezello’s progress in his quest. “Ten years without so much as a trickle of progress, and now it comes like a flood. I took on this quest with the hope that I could prevent such a thing from happening again, and once we are in possession of the control ring I can ensure it doesn’t, but... I never expected to have an individual to hold responsible for it.” He looked down at the scepter, turning it over in his hand before stowing the damaged magic tool in his pack. “And now that I do... I’m not sure I’ll be satisfied until I know he’s dead.” The weight of the scepter’s gold would make a fine bludgeon to crush the skull of the necromancer, a fitting end for he who had used it to take so many lives.

As if by some turn of fate, Vesemir’s voice then carried over from the next room over as he announced the lich-slaying enchantment he had discovered. Rezello glanced at the others before turning and making his way to the leader of their expedition. Akari stood nearby, having dropped a pile of weapons onto a table in front of her and looking quite pleased with herself. “My sword,” he said, holding his spadone out to Vesemir to enchant. “Let the man that vanquished Scheel be vanquished by a weapon of Scheel.”

Two or three years! Paper-pushers will be the death of so many people. Surely it could be faster to send some more people? Vesemir could arrange for a good team, and he wasn't a lord or anything. Well, probably. She never quite inquired about her current boss. But she's pretty sure in that regard.

The serpent hovered around as the three that formed the core of the expedition argued, points brought up and though not quite shot down the decision seemed to lean onto continuing. The bossman definitely was inclined that direction, and his vote's the strongest in the group. Well, since that's the case... Verdant felt like she should at least prepare from now on.

She couldn't distill enough pale-lilies tincture on the fly, but bit by bit every day and she'll get enough to seriously wreck a magical workings. And worst come to worst, bloodthorn fumes will buy some time. Painfully, but it will.

Probably. Hopefully. For now, another trick in her bag.

"Mmmm, this please!" From her satchel Verdant produced a longknife of pale ivory. The weapon seemed to be carved out of a single large piece of bone, the curved edge glass-sharp underneath the simple leather scabbard. Emerald eyes flickered at the elf beside her, smiling face finding Jazdia's as the skull on her head disconcerningly felt like it too had its own individual gaze.

"We're hunting the wizard, it seems!" The concern from earlier was nowhere to be seen, Verdant rather spend the time preparing for the inevitable rather than worry about it. She walked along the elf toward a different section of the vault, letting Vesemir do his thingamajig with the weaponries. "Anything you can tell about hunting wizards? I may be able to prepare a few helpful substances."

Never underestimate the efficiency of sleeping fumes on the unwary, or unprepared.

Vesemir accepted the pocketwatch, seemingly satisfied with the first order of the day. A simple accessory, made of metal, and the size was right too. He placed Jazdia's compass on the enchantment table, and then the basalt stone was placed by its side.

With a nod, Eblana channeled her arcane energy onto the table and had it run through an arcane circuit that linked both items. Done with that, he rubbed the basalt on the lid for good luck.

The watch remained closed when he returned it to Jazdia, and the elf accepted with an appreciative smile. Appearance-wise, there was little changed in that pocket watch. Vesemir knew the item was important to her, and throughout their adventure, he knew that Jazdia was someone who appreciated functionality over appearance.
"Well, that was quick," commented the elven ranger. "It seems your expertise is really something else, or Theriadoere's work was really that modular."

"A little bit of both, actually," Vesemir answered with a moderated pride. Eblana shrugged behind him.

"Anyway, thanks," she pursed her lips before adding. "Since it looks like you two will be a bit busy, I am going to explore the place."

"Ahahah! Busy is an understatement," quipped Eblana before adding quickly. "I am sorry I can't accompany you, Miss Jazdia."

"No problem. You are needed here. I am just taking a stroll to get rid of boredom. See you later, everyone!"

The second order was coming, and it made Vesemir appreciate the simplicity of the previous even more. Akari came with a series of weapons so many that Vesemir evaluated his choice of words; he knew sometimes he sounded rather verbose, but he also expected that everyone he hired had some common sense.

"No, no! Don't just put it like that!" The old elf was clearly losing it when the big shuriken--almost as big as the table itself--- was added to the pile.

"Young miss, I admire your enthusiasm, but you are ruining this piece of art! I can imagine Theriadore rolling in his grave, and I think I am going to join him soon! ---This device is fragile!"
The rest were intelligible muttering when the scholar removed the sword and the shuriken from the table. The clearness in his voice was only recovering when he dealt with Akari's collection of knives; he promptly returned them to her.

"Here, take this. And this. This too. I don't know why you would need all of them enchanted. The blessing would work as long as you have the rune on your person. Ok, prestige points! I get you. I will only have two of your weapons enchanted, but you will have to wait."

After Akari, came the masked knight.

“My sword,” he said, holding his spadone out to Vesemir to enchant. “Let the man that vanquished Scheel be vanquished by a weapon of Scheel.”

The words carried a significance that gave a much-needed pause to the archaeologist's consternation. With a nod, he accepted the long sword. It seemed he had missed a very important revelation, but he could not bring himself to be privy. The best he could do was to honor the knight's wishes.

"Very well. Mr. Rezello."

Before he could start processing the weapons, Verdant the youkai handed him a strange blade that thankfully came with its scabbard. Another simple addition to his list that thankfully would be easy to enchant. He was about to give his usual approval when he realized that Verdant had left with Jazdia.



Leaving behind the workshop, Jazdia walked through the exhibition room with slow and steady steps.

Despite earning many gasps and wows from Vesemir, Jazdia really could not call this place welcoming. It was cold, functional, and emotionless. Pale was its main color palette, and the lighting, while sufficient, only amplified the coldness of its design. It was almost giving off an impression of a crypt, a very ornate crypt at that, looking at the displays and items arranged. The lack of another person in this room further reinforced the feeling of cold, death, and loneliness.

"We're hunting the wizard, it seems!"

Verdant's energetic, slightly shrilly, voice somewhat dispelled the coldness, and it was hard to say she didn't enjoy the change.

"I think we are," she responded, brightened by the unexpected company.

"Anything you can tell about hunting wizards? I may be able to prepare a few helpful substances."

"A few, maybe. Had the pleasure of fighting a few of them. The most recent was in Kindeance, some ten years ago. A well-prepared wizard was the worst kind of enemy to fight against. There were eight of us back then, and it felt like subjugating a dragon."