The small herd of Que'lak, horselike creatures with lovely, graceful features, closed around the group of four adventurers, pawing at the earth and snorting through the mist. Centime leveled the Valuan revolver, and sighting down the barrel he buried a bullet in the flank of one snarling beast. Two others barked out throaty growls and leapt at the overwhelmed engineer; he managed to sidestep one, but the other sank its teeth into his forearm and ripped at the flesh.
Lawrence pivoted on the spot, bringing the violet-bladed falchion to bear and splitting the skull of the one that overshot Centime, and in an agile, lightning-quick movement he had reversed the momentum and chopped at the Que'lak clinging to Centime's arm. The skillful stroke shook the creature off, but didn't drop it.
A pair of yellow-bladed kukris flashed out of their sheaths, and the fleet-footed treasure hunter leapt into the fray, but Domingo misjudged the speed of his target and sailed harmlessly past. He was still alert enough, thankfully, to dodge both Que'lak coming up behind him.
As with most battles, however, Ilchymis was left to his own devices, and finished a bit of spellcasting with little difficulty as Cupil darted in in the form of an axe and sliced brutally through Que'lak hair. The mage's commanding voice cried out "Pyres!" and the intense heat and flames brought forth from the spell incinerated the already-injured monsters.
Wiping the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand, Lawrence cleaned the blood from his sword with a Que'lak hide and took a look around. The eastern ruins had widened into a kind of terrace, much like the courtyard below but narrower and less pockmarked. They were quite high now, and even the easiest skirmish was enough to leave even the fit mercenary out of breath and fatigued. "What's next, Big-shot?"
Domingo leapt up onto a weathered parapet, peering intently through the spyglass while balancing easily in the precarious position. "If we climb one more flight, there's a driftdisc that can take us to the north construct. It's getting dark, though, so we should set up camp when we get there."
"Let's get going, then," said Lawrence, and re-sheathing his falchion he led them up to the next level.
It was easy going for a change; the only creatures on the top floor were winged, birdlike monsters that seemed none too keen on drawing closer, and the ones that did fell prey to Domingo's crossbow. The driftdisc, as Domingo had guessed, delivered them safely to the northern ruins, and upon their arrival they set up camp in a marble quarry, thankfully sheltered overhead from the storm that rolled in as they rested. Ilchymis again kept the first round of the watch, though Domingo rose from a fitful sleep to join him halfway through it. The storm did not lessen when the mage retired to rest, and with his trusted crossbow resting in his lap Domingo gazed around, perfectly alert, waiting for the ghost from several nights before to return. His watch was on the wane when it happened: the telltale shimmering light appeared at the corner of his vision, and the figure beckoned him out of the shelter and into the pelting rain.
A distraught Cupil moved to follow, but instead nipped Ilchymis lightly on the ear until he awoke. Through sleep-weary eyes the mage watched Domingo disappear into the sheets of rain, and he followed quickly after in alarm.
Domingo advanced slowly, mind in a haze, movements dreamlike as he closed the distance beween himself and the apparition, and the ghost waited patiently with an outstretched hand. He was so entraned by the creatures's mystery that he approached blindly, closed to the possibility that it meant him harm, and closed his fingers around the glimmering hand, which was quite solid. The ghost tugged at him, willed him to follow, and Domingo silently obeyed.
A bolt of lightning eclipsed the Green Moon, illuminating Ilchymis's horrified face, and he cried, "No, Domingo! Don't!"
The treasure hunter heard nothing, only the wheedling of the thing leading him.
"DOMINGO!!!" Ilchymis rushed forward.
The dreamy look in Domingo's eyes suddenly vanished, for Ilchymis's voice had penetrated the dirge like a foghorn; his first instinct was to jerk his hand away, but the ghost proved quicker and tugged Domingo over the edge of the northern construct. Ilchymis cried out and dove, fingers clenching around Domingo's wrist, and as he struggled to support the treasure hunter's weight the apparition dissolved into the rain.
Domingo was sure they would both tumble to their deaths, but somehow Ilchymis was pulling him up; he crested the edge and they sat there together, panting for breath as Cupil formed an umbrella to shield them from the storm.
"That was the ghost," Ilchymis reasoned, as Domingo shivered beside him. "That was what you saw before."
Domingo nodded, looking very out of sorts, and Ilchymis pulled him to his feet. "Why were you following it? Why didn't you stay away?"
"I don't know," Domingo replied in a feeble voice. "It was calling out to me... I couldn't stop myself."
Huddled together against the lashing raindrops, the two sodden adventurers retreated to the camp, Cupil umbrella in tow.
Author's Note: This is the part where I get to use cool phrases like "The plot thickens"! Hee!
Derek Barona: Well, I am here to please your ego, 'tis true... hee hee! Anywho, I didn't even think about the gunpowder, damn it, do I suck or what? Will put more thought into the next one. And I'm a great pirate, I sold that stuff the first chance I got, lol!
Syek: LOL!!!
Meowzy-chan: Updates to keep an enthusiastic and loyal fan? You've got yourself a deal!