Thank you, everyone, so much for all your comments. I left that last chapter on a bit of a hype, didn't I? Well, time to see our young folks do something stupid in the pursuit of adventure.

The passage was roughly cut and wound around a bit, but was clear of debris, which was strange given the dilapidated state of the rest of the ruin. Deanne worried she might be hurting Fang, given how tightly she was gripping him. Maybe even pulling out some of his fur. What happened to spectral fur if it was pulled out? Did it return to Aetherius when it was separated from the familiar? She wasn't precisely sure of the rules. And thinking about it was better than considering all manner of dangers they might encounter down here.

She really should be paying attention to her surroundings. Yes, that would be a good idea. Much more important than the physiological qualities of Fang's fur. Or how her arm was going numb in Brelyna's grip. Or how they kept stepping on Onmund's heels as they all clustered so close.

They caught up to J'Zargo in the chamber at the passage end. By how he was scratching at the stone, Deanne suspected it was a dead end. She wasn't willing to let go of her escorts to confirm for herself, though.

"Thanks for waiting, J'Zargo," Onmund stated pointedly.

The scratching paused as the Khajiit shot back, "J'Zargo was not going to wait for you to make up your minds. Help J'Zargo to open this."

Onmund hurried forward, but to stop him. "No. These must have been very important people for their tombs to be sealed off. Leave them be."

"No. No!" J'Zargo yowled, scratching more furiously. "There is a way out here. There must be!"

Deanne didn't want to listen to them fighting and turned her mind instead to the pulsing. It was still there, deeper within the earth. If this room was a dead end, was there another in Saarthal that might lead down to the source? Probably in the collapsed sections.

Even as she trained her senses on the distant magic, Deanne felt the air around them grow heavy with power. Could this room be drawing it for some reason? Had something been activated? As she tried to pinpoint the source of the change, her friends' arguing drew further off, growing distant to her ear. Deanne fidgeted under the ethereal pressure only to find Brelyna's arm stiff and resistant to her squirming. She tugged—no, not stiff. Fixed. Brelyna was frozen in place. And Onmund and J'Zargo had gone silent. Even Fang was affected. What was going on? What had happened to them all!? Just as Deanne was beginning to panic, there was a warping in the air like a summoning. The heavy air puckered and something coalesced in the middle of the chamber. And spoke.

"Hold, mage." Any hope she had of staying still and going unnoticed was scattered when the entity addressed her.

What was this? The voice was lofty and austere. He sounded mortal enough; not a daedra speaking inside her head, but as though he stood right in front of her. Except his presence seemed nothing more than a projection.

He continued gravely, "Listen well. Know that you have set in motion a chain of events that cannot be stopped. Judgment has not been passed, as you had no way of knowing. Judgment will be passed on your actions to come and how you deal with the dangers ahead of you." Dangers? What dangers? "This warning is passed to you because the Psijic Order believes in you. You, mage, and you alone have the potential to prevent disaster. Take great care, and know that the Order is watching."

Every other sentence reassured and frightened. 'Order'? 'Danger'? 'Disaster'? This was the Augur all over again. Except the Augur had actually been helpful. This entity, without waiting for either recognition or response, vanished! Deanne flailed internally as the heavy magic in the air dissipated and her friends' arguing returned as though uninterrupted. Thank the Gods, even Brelyna returned to normal. Though she, at least, seemed to notice something and asked quizzically, "Did you feel that?"

Feel? "Did you see that?" Deanne demanded.

"See what? What happened?"

Deanne gestured forward at where the apparition had been. "There! The man! You didn't see him?!" Fang shook himself, grumbling as he cast off the spell, and lifted his nose to scent the area, looking for the source of what had just happened. Through their link, Deanne knew he found nothing. What had just happened?!

"Boys! Shut up! Deanne saw something." Brelyna yelled, cutting the argument off at the knees.

"Saw what?" Onmund asked.

Deanne pointed, frustrated, "There! A man appeared right there. He was talking about a disaster and judgement. That we'd started a chain of events and…a Psijic Order was going to be watching!" The response was decidedly blank. "None of you saw him?"

"No," Onmund replied while J'Zargo grumbled, "Why does the blind mage get all the visions?"

Beside her, Brelyna asked, "Wait, did you say 'Psijic Order'?"

"Yes. Do you know them?"

"I've heard of them. They're an ancient order of mages founded back in the First Era. But no one's seen any of them in a long time. Not since their island disappeared. There was one here?"

"I don't know. Maybe. He didn't say he was one of them, just that they would be watching."

J'Zargo hissed furiously, "Unless this one spoke of a way out of this room, J'Zargo does not care!" He turned back to the stone.

Deanne shifted closer to Brelyna, needing the support. J'Zargo had the right of it, she thought. Why did she always get the visions? First the Augur and now this strange man. In fact…might this be connected? The Augur of Dunlain had said that a 'path' would find her. Was this it? Or the beginning of it? Maybe it was just coincidence. Maybe she saw the vision because she'd happened to be the one who'd broken the wall and its enchantment to get in here. But they hadn't done anything. All they'd done was walk down to this dead end of a chamber. Surely this place didn't constitute a disaster in the making. As long as they didn't do anything—

J'Zargo strained, stone shifting. Deanne's heart seized and she lurched toward him. "J'Zargo, wait! Don't touch that!"

Too late!

The slab he'd been pulling on came loose and the Khajiit leapt back as it fell hard to the floor—then squawked as the occupant stepped free, aware and mobile, barking angrily at the chamber's living denizens.

Things happened fast. The draugr's awakening triggered another tomb to fall open and a second draugr to answer the intrusion. Brelyna dragged Deanne backwards into the passage as a fireball exploded in the chamber. Deanne had felt the spell being drawn up before its cast and threw up a Ward, protecting both herself and Brelyna from the explosion. Fang roared and leapt into the fray. There was such a clamor of spells and struggle that Deanne couldn't track any of it. The fracas lasted scarcely more than a minute, and when all finally settled, the draugr were silent, J'Zargo was breathing heavily and Onmund was slumped against a wall groaning.

"Onmund!" Both women hurried in and to his side. Deanne cast Restoration and found his arm badly burned.

Brelyna was on her feet, rounding on J'Zargo in a fury. "Look what you've done!"

He became defensive immediately, "If he'd been quicker to—"

"No! You should have thought before blowing the whole room apart! You could have killed him!"

"Well, J'Zargo could hardly wait for the Dunmer to act. Where were you, he wonders? Hiding away from the fight, that is where. J'Zargo needed to act and he did—"

Deanne healed Onmund's arm while the two argued. The entire experience had distressed her.

"The Dunmer is overreacting—"

"No, she's not," Deanne interrupted. The two went silent at her outburst and Deanne clapped her mouth shut, embarrassed, stressed and worried what she might say in anger. Especially here when they needed each other.

Onmund took the opening. "She's really not. Fireballs? You cast spells like you were only one here. Well, you're not. You want to blow everything around you to pieces, do it on your own. But when we're together like this, you have to think about the rest of us."

J'Zargo sputtered in shock. "You cannot be serious. There were draugr! What was J'Zargo supposed to do? Let them cut him apart while he went through his arsenal to choose a spell that would not hurt so much?"

Onmund jerked his arm forward, the burnt edges of his sleeve fluttering over Deanne's hand. "And that excuses hurting your allies? Your friends? Either we're in this together or we're not. So which is it?"

J'Zargo didn't answer, mumbling somewhere in his throat, sufficiently chastised—Deanne hoped. Onmund stood and helped Deanne up behind him. By then the Khajiit had mustered himself enough to say, "J'Zargo is…sorry. He is not used to—"

"Well get used to it! We're not going a step further if we have to defend ourselves against the tomb and you." Deanne felt Onmund's hand wrapped tight around her own, shaking slightly although his voice was steady. She squeezed back to reassure him and that shaking eased.

J'Zargo's retort was to state, "It's not like that threat means much. There is no 'further' for any of us to go!"

"How about the one coffin that didn't pop open with the others?" Brelyna offered, bluntly.

Deanne considered. That did seem odd, considering how quickly the second had responded to the first's opening.

Onmund sighed and whispered, "Ancestors, forgive me." Then released Deanne's hand and pushed up his sleeves. "Alright, someone give me a hand with it."

The women stood aside while the men-folk hefted the coffin's lid. Another scraping and heavy fall of stone and—"Well what do you know. I was right."

After another general consensus that they continue forward, the women passed through first, entering another long forgotten, sealed up section of Saarthal. Behind them, Deanne heard Onmund grab J'Zargo and hold him back. "I mean it, J'Zargo. You start throwing off spells without looking, I'll take the others back to the gate and leave you to deal with whatever you wake up down there."

J'Zargo replied snarkily, "If the Nord wanted to become the blind one's hero, perhaps he should have done so before the Companion showed up. J'Zargo might even have helped if asked nicely."

Onmund pushed him away. "I just want to get us all out of here alive. See if you can't get on board with that." They came through and Deanne pretended not to have heard what had not been meant for her ears.

With a magicka burst, Deanne discovered the immediate hallway was honeycombed with no clear path ahead. The pulsing came from all directions, the source somewhere down and to their right, helping not at all with the immediate decision. "So…do we just pick one?"

There seemed no better option, so they started with the first right. As it turned out, the passages were a crisscross pattern, interconnected and therefore easy to traverse in the direction they needed. Unfortunately, it kept everyone on their toes. Especially when they came around a corner and all three of her friends froze, two letting out startled cries.

Deanne latching onto Brelyna as the Dunmer did onto her. "What? What?!" Deanne peeped.

Brelyna hissed fearfully, "Draugr. Right here." A draugr? But…she heard no movement, no rasping breaths. "Is it…dead? Dead-dead?"

Three of them yelped in surprise as J'Zargo hurled an ice spell at the corpse, which promptly crumpled to the floor. "What?" he demanded when their friends exhaled with hostility. "It did not explode, did it?"

Onmund groaned in agony and exasperation. "I don't think that one was going to move."

"Well, tell J'Zargo which ones will not attack and he will not either."

The group continued on. There were no more draugr in the hallways, but the reprieve didn't last. They passed into another more open section and down a flight of broad stairs. The tombs were no longer alcoves, but stone beds set into the walls. The smell of old dead was distracting, but Deanne kept her ears peeled to her surroundings. About halfway across a chamber there were sounds of shifting on stone and croaks from dried throats as disturbed draugr rose from their beds all around.

Without so much as a warning, J'Zargo let a caterwaul and took off running straight ahead, hurling exploding fireballs across the room, which were answered by shrieking corpses. "J'Zargo!" Onmund hollered, but it went unheard, the whole space echoing with J'Zargo's personal mottos of power and grandeur. "Dammit! Stay here," Onmund insisted, pushing Deanne and Brelyna back toward the entrance to the section.

Brelyna didn't need to be asked twice, pulling the two back toward the doorway as Onmund went running after their insane cohort. A second set of casting joined J'Zargo's and battle sounds reverberated everywhere. Fang stayed with the women, keeping between them and chamber, snarling at the nearest threats.

Deanne clung to Brelyna's arm, listening fiercely. "Are they okay? What's happening? Do they need us?"

"I don't—There are more on the walls. I think I can hit them from here…"

"Then do it!" Deanne insisted, shifting her hold to Brelyna's robes, to give her both hands free. Divines, Deanne wished she could see! The sounds and magic left the room in utter chaos to her senses.

Brelyna drew up a spell—and held it. Deanne's heart clenched. Twisted. Pulled. What was she waiting for?! Their friends were in the middle of everything! After several agonizing seconds, the spell was loosed, followed by an angry squawk. "…Wow. It's easier from a distance."

"Then do it again!" Deanne insisted. If she couldn't do anything, Brelyna had to!

And the Dunmer did so, the spells drawn up, aimed, and fired deliberately, finding their targets more often than not. Even so, Deanne feared their progress was too slow. Fang growled ferociously before them and launched at an enemy, dragging the corpse to the ground two dozen feet away. Deanne threw open her Eye, tracking all of them by spell and sound around the chamber. She could make out the magic of her friends and their spells, but there was another magical signature in the room. Suddenly, a spell blossomed out of nowhere, with neither Onmund nor J'Zargo as the source. Deanne threw up a ward just in time to keep a frigid ice spike from impaling either Brelyna or herself, the Dunmer shrieking as the spell shattered hardly a foot in front of them.

"Where—?"

"There!" Deanne pointed at where she 'saw' more hostile magicka being summoned.

"I see him."

"I'll hold it."

What followed was a clumsy exchange of magical projectiles, Deanne staggering behind Brelyna as the women avoided the incoming spells while Deanne defended and Brelyna tried to hit the offender. Their persistence paid off, the draugr spell-caster finally going down in a blast of electricity. Seconds later the chamber fell into eerie quiet as the men-folk felled their last attacker and Fang came trotting back to Deanne's side.

With a moment to catch their breath, Onmund rounded on his companion. "What in the Void was that about?!"

"What?" J'Zargo demanded, the ladies and Fang crossing to join them.

Onmund fumed. "That! You didn't even wait a second to check. Just raced straight ahead! What were you thinking?!"

J'Zargo addressed him like a simpleton. "J'Zargo was thinking about the rest of you. Like he was told to, yes? His friends were here. Therefore he should be exploding things over there. What? What?! What has J'Zargo done now?!" Onmund and Brelyna both expressed their exasperation: Onmund muttering, Brelyna groaning. Deanne was just happy everyone was still alive and she rubbed Fang behind the ears with relief.

"Does anyone need healing?" she asked.

There were a few cuts and bruises on the men-folk that Deanne still had the magicka to heal. The other three needed several minutes to rest and recuperate their magicka. Deanne made a mental note to thank Archmage Aren for encouraging her to expand her magicka pool, and to teach her friends the lesson later. It would undoubtedly be useful to them in the future, as Deanne was beginning to think that she and her friends were prone to landing themselves in the middle of dangerous situations.

Just as they prepared to get going, from Deanne's arm, Brelyna asked, "What's with the axe?"

Axe?

Onmund answered self-consciously, "Oh, well…See I was—"

J'Zargo scoffed. "The Nord has been whining of disturbing the dead this whole time, and he is the first to scavenge. Even J'Zargo has not stooped to grave-robbing." Deanne heard the 'yet', unspoken.

"It's not grave-robbing!" Onmund yelled, swiftly lowering his voice when it echoed. "I'm just borrowing," he insisted. "I was raised the proper Nord way, so I know how to use a weapon. Father insisted. And if we're going to be down here, antagonizing the dead—and you're going to be racing ahead all the time—I'm going to need more than half-mastered spells. I'll find somewhere for it to rest before we leave."

It was explanation enough for the rest of them, though J'Zargo insisted on a few more jabs just to get under Onmund's skin. As they started off, Deanne heard Onmund mutter, "If I ever get to Sovngard, my grandfather is going to have my head for this."

They continued into the ruin, the surges of magicka from the mysterious source growing stronger. There were a few more draugr encounters, though not in the concentration as in that large chamber. They stopped being surprised when J'Zargo continued to barrel forward, hurling spells madly. Onmund just grunted and charged after him, while Brelyna pulled Deanne into a good position from which they could lend support to their friends in melee, Fang taking up guard between the women and the action. There were no more draugr mages, so Deanne's brief turn of combat usefulness was the one and only. She spent the time anxiously tracking her friends in battle and healing their wounds after the fact.

The four—and familiar—came across several safeguards and puzzle doors along the way which they were able to open by Deanne's magical sight and their own cleverness.

"Did the ancient Nords truly think these would suffice?"

"I'm sure they just didn't foresee the gargantuan brain that is J'Zargo," Brelyna quipped back.

Soon the surges of magicka were so strong that even her friends felt it and they all picked up their pace, eager to find this thing that was hidden so deep within a so long forgotten ruin. It was not, however, what stopped them up in a particularly expansive chamber.

"Sweet Azura, look at them all!"

"I'd say we've found the tomb," Onmund remarked, edging close to a great void at the room's center. "They go all the way down. I can't even see the bottom."

"Think Tolfdir will forgive us going off when he sees this?" J'zargo asked as he moved forward.

Onmund replied, "If they don't all wake up and tear us apart, I'm sure we'll have the chance to ask.—J'Zargo, slow down. Quiet, please. Let's try to avoid a fight this time."

The group made its way around the burial pit to the gate on the other side. Onmund pulled on a chain mechanism—and tombs all around the room fell open.

"The Nord was saying!"

"I know! Shut up! Back up, to the right—Shit!" A coffin fell open immediately behind Deanne and Brelyna.

Brelyna shrieked and an electrical shot went off, the awakened draugr barking at the strike. Deanne forced herself to act, drawing ice into her palms and throwing it right where her friend's spell had struck. The draugr gave another cry and collapsed.

Before she could think to celebrate her competence, Onmund spoke. "Good. As long as we—J'Zargo!"

"Ah-hahaha!" The Khajiit had taken off in the opposite direction as they were edging, fireballs exploding all around the room as he demanded the attention of every enemy in shouting distance.

Onmund groaned as Brelyna told him, "Go. We'll cover you both." So Onmund followed their mad Khajiit.

Once again, Deanne was left following the sounds of fighting until—"Mage!" she warned, pointing hurriedly.

"—I see him," Brelyna confirmed, still throwing electrical bolts in the area of J'Zargo's hollering, her spells growing weaker by the cast. "The draugr are all swarming Onmund and that damn cat. If I stop, they might be overwhelmed!"

Deanne reached out to Fang and issued a command. The familiar streaked off to a separate side of the room, snarling until there was an impact and guttural yell. She didn't have time to be proud, as Brelyna's cover fire had been noticed and several draugr came lumbering toward them. "Archer!" Brelyna shrieked, dragging Deanne down just in time for an arrow to strike the stone above them, clattering across Deanne's shoulder as it ricocheted.

They rose to their knees, the draugr closing in. Deanne's heart raced, hearing the scuff of numerous ancient boots advancing and the hoarse exhalations as heavy weapons were hefted, and Brelyna's voice rose hysterically high. "There are too many! Too many!"

Deanne felt Brelyna's control come apart. The gossamer waves of purple became a tumult, swells thrashing outward, drawing from an unseen place and turning hot. Deanne barely had thought enough to throw up a ward before Brelyna erupted! The womer caught fire, draugr all around them shrieking as the flames struck them. Deanne curled low, holding her ward close as the heat washed over her. She had no idea what was going on, except that Brelyna didn't seem to be in control of it. It was like a flame cloak, but not a flame cloak. It was so much more powerful and widespread than that, actively seeking the enemies within its reach and burning them to a crisp.

The storm didn't last long. As quickly as the surge had overtaken her, Brelyna's spell sputtered out and she dropped. Deanne rushed to catch her friend, just keeping Brelyna's head from striking the ground as she collapsed. The nearest of the draugr still burned, their ancient flesh leaving a putrid, meaty smell all around. But there were those beyond the blast. Deanne heard them moving, yet deciding if they dared to repeat their fellows' advance.

Deanne huddled low, shaking Brelyna's shoulder. "Brelyna! Brelyna!" The womer's head lolled, but she gave no sound. Deanne's Eye still saw her magic; she was alive, but unconscious. If the draugr attacked now, there would be nothing to stop them. Deanne didn't know how she was to fight them off.

She flinched as another arrow pinged right beside her head and Deanne threw up a Barrier around the two of them, wondering how many blows it would hold against. Fang was still engaged with the draugr mage, Onmund and J'Zargo were still fighting. Onmund no longer cast spells, relying on his weapon. J'Zargo was still yelling, but with less gusto. They were getting tired. And the draugr still swarmed.

How much longer could her friends hold out? How many more draugr were there to contend with? What did they do? What could they do?!

New footsteps rose amidst the fighting. Deanne's heart seized—More?—until they broke out into the chamber with a battle cry that drowned out the draugr. Then Deanne's spirit soared! Vilkas!

The draugr fell before him, taken off guard, the warrior bellowing as he struck again and again, ancient bodies falling as he cleaved his way across the room. Nearest Deanne, draugr yelped and collapsed, one by one, accompanied by dull thunks in dry flesh. Arrows? Vilkas's companion? It seemed to be, but she didn't shout like Vilkas did.

The two warriors turned the tide. The draugr hadn't expected a second wave of assailants and weren't prepared. Vilkas took advantage, felling most before they could adjust their attack, and by then the dead were outnumbered by the living. Deanne cradled her friend in her lap, holding up her Barrier until the only sounds were gasps by those familiar to her, J'Zargo and Onmund among them.

As if on cue, Brelyna stirred. Deanne half-laughed, half-sobbed with relief, "Thank the Eight!" She hugged Brelyna close as the womer tried unsuccessfully to sit up. "You scared me. Are you alright?"

Brelyna groaned, dropping back into Deanne's lap. She wouldn't be getting upright just yet. "Y-yes. I…I've never done that…before…"

"What was that? You…" What did she even call what had happened? "…exploded!"

"Ancestor's Wrath," Brelyna answered wearily. "Heard stories about it. Didn't think…it felt like that, though."

"Are you going to be okay?" Deanne sniffed.

"Yes. Just weak. Need to lie here. For a bit." She sounded so tired. Deanne nodded shakily, "The others?"

"Alive," Deanne replied, swiping the tears away from her eyes before they embarrassed her friend.

Vilkas's footsteps came out of the quiet, rushing to her and going to his knees at her side. "Deanne," he gasped, the relief clear as he reached for her.

Careful of Brelyna, Deanne curled into his touch, new tears racing for her eyes. "I'm fine. We're fine. If…if you hadn't come…Thank you, Vilkas."

He took her face in his hands and pressed his forehead to hers. There was a faint tremor in his palms. It seemed she wasn't the only one who'd been frightened.

Then Vilkas's bearing shifted. He went from tender and concerned to on-guard in an instant, tensing and sitting up to lean over the women, prepared to defend. Deanne opened her ears, expecting the lumbering sounds of an errant draugr yet standing. Instead, it was the padding of paws. Fang had finished thrashing the corpse of the draugr mage who'd kept him so occupied and away from his caster's side during the fight, and was trotting over.

Oh. This was the first time she'd had Fang summoned around Vilkas, wasn't it? She knew he must see wolves and monsters all the time as a Companion. But Fang was an exceptional creature and frightful to anyone who didn't understand his nature.

She reached out to touch Vilkas's arm, hoping to keep him from attacking her familiar. "It's alright. He's mine. He's not going to hurt anyone."

Fang padded over and stooped to investigate the Dunmer who was occupying what was very clearly his place, completely ignoring the warrior on Deanne's other side. Deanne rather expected the familiar to get territorial, but was glad he didn't. There was enough else going on right now without Fang being fussy about having a strange man nearby. Instead, Fang became fussy about Deanne's currently occupied lap.

He dropped his muzzle and dug it under the womer's shoulder, proceeding to shove Brelyna off of Deanne's legs. "Fang, no! Stop that!" Deanne admonished.

"Ack," Brelyna groaned, as she was ousted onto the floor.

"I'm sorry. He just—Hush!" She draped her arms over his head, trying to steer the wolf away from his goal of occupying the now vacant space.

Brelyna brushed off the apology. "Never mind. I'm alright. Can probably sit up now."

Deanne maneuvered around Fang to help her friend into a sitting position and to retrieve a water skin from her bag, which Brelyna gulped from. Through the whole of it, Vilkas didn't say a word. He held in place, his hand curled heavily over Deanne's shoulder. He was tense. That part wasn't going away, even as Fang sidled up and lay down on Deanne's other side.

It was hard to think what to say. Vilkas could have found any number of things wrong with Fang. His size, his predatory form, the fact he was summoned by Conjuration magic. Gods, this was like introducing two individual friends to one another and praying they got along.

"What in Oblivion is that?!" Deanne was startled by the voice of the other Companion. So Vilkas wasn't the only one taking an issue with Fang. The wolf's head perked up and he huffed, assessing the threat behind the tone.

Brelyna answered for the ward. "He's Deanne's familiar. Big, scary, and loyal as a puppy. Don't concern yourself about it."

"A what?!"

"What happened?" Onmund asked, stumbling over to join them with J'Zargo behind.

Deanne latched onto his question, hoping to avoid the other Companion's fury over her familiar. "She cast a spell and fainted."

"Just for a little while," Brelyna insisted.

Deanne's lip fought to curl up as she sidestepped another argument. "Is anyone hurt?"

Onmund had more damage than J'Zargo, but they had both taken a beating. Deanne set to healing them while Brelyna rested, at which time Vilkas had recovered enough to make his own demands. "What are you doing down here?!"

Before Deanne could even cringe away from the accusation, J'Zargo hissed, "Do not blame the blind one. This was J'Zargo's idea, first!" Was that a claim of blame or credit? It was hard to tell with him.

"We all came down here together," Onmund said pointedly. "We were all in the section when the gate came down. There wasn't anywhere else to go, and J'Zargo ran off so…we all followed."

Vilkas turned to growl low at Deanne, "You should have waited. You shouldn't have wandered off into a Nordic barrow alone."

"And what are we? Chopped liver?" J'Zargo squawked.

Vilkas ignored him. "We're taking you back." He hooked one of her arms now that she was done with her Restoration and stood her up. "We got the gate up. We're going back to the surface before anything else happens."

Deanne turned to tug on his arm fervently. "Wait, wait. Let us just go a little farther. Please."

"Why?"

Brelyna picked up on the reason; the whole origin for their excursion, at least on Deanne's part. "Is it close? Are we close?"

"Is what close?" Vilkas demanded.

"The magic…thing Deanne's been sensing," Onmund replied. "The other reason we came. There's some powerful magic down here. Deanne could sense it up above. I'm feeling it now, too. It must be close."

J'Zargo, despite the intense battle they'd all just taken part in, was on his feet and eager. "Let us go, then! J'Zargo wants to see this thing."

"Hold up," Onmund yelled, lunging after him.

"Ack! Let go! How much more danger could there be? All these draugr coming alive at once, this must be the last safeguard. Let J'Zargo go!"

"Stop running ahead! Stendarr's mercy, you're impossible!"

While the two bickered, Vilkas lowered his voice and bent to Deanne's ear. "This is too—"

"Please!" she insisted. "We've come all this way. It's just ahead. Please."

"And if there's more guarding this thing? I saw the draugr you left in your wake. The doors. What if this wasn't the last defense? What if there's something worse waiting? What if the first Men hid this thing away for a reason?"

She…didn't have an answer for that. He made sense. Everything he said made sense. By all rights, she should be taking this opportunity to go back to the surface. She'd had her adventure and lived through it. The way back was open. The magisters would find their way down here before long, and likely discover this thing that Deanne was sensing. She didn't need to keep going. The discovery would doubtless end up at the College if she waited long enough. And down here, danger had only increased with exploration. So why, why, why didn't she want to take this chance to leave? Why, after coming so close to being killed by draugr, did she still want to go forward?

"…Please,"—Gods, she was mad—"Just one more room."

Vilkas must have been near to denying her, because Brelyna broke in, "She had a vision. Her last one paid off. I'd bet my family name this one will, too."

That stayed him. "A vision? What vision?"

"Yes, yes, the blind mage has visions. And for her trouble, she received her magical 'Eye'. This time, J'Zargo is getting the prize!" He yowled and Onmund grunted, hanging onto him.

"You're not going ahead without the rest of us!"

"Nord! Stop your mother-henning. Release J'Zargo!"

While the boys scuffled lightly, Vilkas grasped Deanne's shoulders in his hands and held her before him, making his size more than apparent, even to one who couldn't see it. "What vision? What did you see?"

There was skepticism there. Deanne almost wished he were one of the religious sorts who heard the word 'vision' and associated them with the Gods and destiny and just accepted it all. But no, Vilkas was the sort to question first. "It wasn't a vision…exactly. Someone appeared and spoke to me. At the College, it was the Augur of Dunlain. When I went down into the Midden to see him—"

"Which was forbidden and dangerous," Brelyna piped up with pride.

Deanne shot a look at Brelyna that, she hoped, conveyed a demand for silence. Mentioning a previous dangerous excursion was not helpful for this argument. Not when Vilkas had every reason, capability and intention of dragging them back to the College. Or Deanne, at least.

She continued, "He gave me a way to see magic. To sense it like no one else can. This time…I don't know who it was, but he said we'd started something that couldn't be stopped. And that we could prevent a disaster."

"He talked of disaster, and you want to keep going?" he asked incredulously.

"Yes, because the Augur said a path was going to find me. What if this is it? Please, I know what I'm asking. I know I'm scared. I know it's dangerous down here and we don't know what's ahead. But I also know that this is important. Please." She knew it. Every step closer, she was surer of it. But how did she convince him when she had nothing more than a feeling to argue?

Under Vilkas's intensity, the squabble of the men-folk faded into the background. So too did the attention of both Brelyna and the other Companion. It was just Deane and Vilkas, struggling to come to some understanding.

He leaned forward, his forehead coming to rest against her own. Was that…good?

"We've done this before, you know," he murmured.

She blinked quizzically. "Done…what?"

"Nightcaller Temple. You remember? You wanted so badly to help, even with the risk it posed. You were so sure it was the right thing to do. Then you looked at me with those pleading eyes, just like you're doing now, and said 'please'. Is that really all it takes?" His grip tightened a fraction, but the only new sound to Deanne's ear was Fang's tail swiffing back and forth on the floor nearby.

Vilkas sighed, his resolution draining away before her. With one hand he cupped her cheek, tilting her face up toward his. She wondered what he saw. "But this isn't the same. There isn't a town of people at risk. Best I can tell, no one's in danger from what's down here. Feels more like a treasure hunt. Are you absolutely sure this is the right thing to do?"

She considered. The answer seemed more significant now that he'd said all that. And so too was the fact that he was leaving the decision up to her. And he was. Whatever she said, he'd accept it. Stand by her in it. Just like Nightcaller Temple.

"Yes. I'm sure."

He nodded against their contact and stood tall. "I don't like you being down here. I don't like you putting yourself in danger. But…if you say it's important, then I believe you. But we do this my way."

"Alright," she readily agreed.

Vilkas turned to her friends and barked, "Hey! Cut that out!" Deanne jumped at his change of tone, but it cut the men-folk's bickering off like a switch. Just like that, he was Vilkas the Companion, a warrior and leader of warriors. And Deanne trusted herself to his direction. "Now I'm going to tell you how this is going to go."

I loved writing J'Zargo here. He's such a Tank. The little bit of each of us that goes shrieking at the bad guys when we see them. This chapter meant a lot of research into MMO team dynamics for me, so that was fun. I got to divvy up the assignments while looking into our characters' races and classes and so forth. Sort of funny, but Brelyna just exploded on me in the middle of writing this fight. No warning - just boom! I was blinking at my monitor after she did it. And Fang and Vilkas finally meet. About freakin' time. Yay! So much happening.

Rather than stuff this chapter, Saarthal's exciting conclusion comes next update. I'll see you then!