Having been the second person to head down the stairs, Traveller had been able to look, with difficulty in the dim light, over a small section of the carvings etched into the walls. None of the books on the Rzailian empire could compare to the amount of knowledge he found before him. A university or a library would kill for a copy of these walls. In fact, the temple he was raised at would love to add this story to their archive. But for now the story would remain lost to the ages, as those who could record it were surrounded by an army of the dead. His gaze swept over the carvings and the recesses to the door. As Traveller approached the door, he knew he was out of luck. Locks were not his specialty. An ordinary door he could beat down... but not this. It was better left to the others in their group... assuming they could open it themselves.
Traveller turned from the door and went straight back to the doorway, where he could feel Fionn unleashing his arcane armament. On the way up he passed several of the adventures he had met earlier as well as some newcomers. He would have to speak with them later. There was definitely a diverse gathering of heroes; it wasn't a normal Ecetopia group that may form to stop the local bandits. He pondered on the way evil could draw good, like how magic attracted mages. It was a good thing, otherwise the universe would conquered by evil. Reaching the top of the staircases, and without further ado, Traveller released his large sword from its magical bindings on his back, then finally joined Fionn at the entrance. Fionn wasn't the only one up there holding the undead back, there was a dwarf swinging away.
Sword in hand and his arcane shield protecting him, Traveller went into the fray. His sword moved in a blur, cutting through entire bodies and shattering bone where the sword's edge didn't make clean contact. Every time he brought an undead warrior down he would 'blink' to the next nearby one, making him a blur as well. His shield flared here and there when hands swatted at him, but the undead here used numbers to kill enemies... not speed. Not yet at least. That was also a problem. One by one the bodies in varying states of decay went down, but to win any battle here Traveller would have to be killing droves with every swing of his sword. The best he could do was help keep the entrance somewhat clear for the others. At the same time the constant use of magic would tire him out. They would have to close the entrance to the city soon.