Navigating the catacombs was much harder without Shade and Sarel probing every few inches. Merdon wasn't experienced with traps, and while the runes were easy to spot and destroy, the tripwires were much harder. They had come out on the opposite side of the wall, with no clear corridor back to the entrance they had unintentionally sealed off with stone. Cut off from the party, just the two of them wandering in near darkness, slowly plodding along the eerily silent gravesite. Red kept as quiet as Merdon while they traveled, not wishing to even think about what she had done minutes ago. She wanted to wake up and find it all to be a dream, a prophetic vision of things to come, but the cool stone under her feet and the pain in her chest were too, too real for any kind of fantasy. Her only solace was that Skyeyes would help, as soon as they found the others.
Merdon was focused on the path ahead. The catacombs were twisting and tricky, with the side benefit of helping him forget the radiating heat on his cheek. Occasionally, he slowed down more and prodded extra thoroughly for a trap he knew wasn't there as the pain swelled and made him wince. Otherwise, the pain was negligible. If something or someone attacked them, the knight was certain he would be capable of fending them off with little trouble. Even if they attacked during one of its flare-ups. Still, it slowed them down even more, and it wasn't long before the human simply opted to shout into the darkness.
He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, “Quickclaw! Skyeyes!” Only the oppressive silence greeted his yell, making him frown and ponder.
“We must have come a good way from the room,” Red remarked softly, a tone she hadn't taken in a long time. “Perhaps they went around the other way to try and find us.” Meaning they were walking away from help.
“Maybe,” Merdon grunted in agreement, glancing back past her. The sight of her fire caused him to flinch involuntarily, and made the kobold lower her claw.
“Sorry,” the mage said hurriedly. “It must be a little too bright.” She knew the real reason for his reaction. Neither of them wanted to discuss it.
“Yeah,” he mumbled before shouting the names of their companions again down the opposite hall. Still nothing.
Red frowned and looked around. “We haven't seen a turn since we left the room,” she commented. Or else they would have doubled back to the hall they originally came from.
“That would be the problem,” the knight said. His tone was exceptionally sour.
The mage ignored it. He had a right to that feeling, as much as it pained her. “Yes, but perhaps that wasn't the only room we passed.”
Her idea clicked and Merdon started tapping on the stone walls with his hand, sometimes pushing them with his whole body weight. Red followed along, doubling back down the hall they knew was clear to test for something they might have passed. When she found something, she didn't wait for Merdon. The mage summoned her power and shouted as she pushed a weakened wall, the force throwing her backward and dazing her a little. Despite that, she'd found another room, one that opened back to the tunnel they were checking through before.
Merdon came running and helped her up. “Are you okay?” he asked as his hand braced her back, pulling her off the wall.
“I'm fine,” she replied, her eyes swimming, but not enough she couldn't see forward. “There,” Red pointed, causing the knight to look. The hole was small. He would have to crawl.
Moments later, they were in another room with a doorway on the far side. This time, they went slowly, checking the floor for traps. Merdon spotted it this time. Just outside the door was a slightly raised stone. Enough to trip over in height, but short enough to walk right over. His legs were long enough he probably stepped right over it, and Red had moved so fast she must have jumped it. Skyeyes, Shade, or Sarel would have to have stepped on it trying to follow them. The trap was intended to keep someone out more than lock them inside, though either worked for preserving the peace of the dead. He sighed at that realization and then refocused himself on their separation.
“We should head back to where we got lost,” Red suggested, looking to the left.
Merdon, however, noticed the floor first and foremost. “There's a tripwire here,” he said, picking up a strand in his hand. “Someone stepped on it.”
Red shrugged. “These ruins have been here a while.”
“Without triggering anything else?” the knight posed to her skeptically. “I think they ran this way.”
That made the red-scaled kobold alert. “Ran from what?”
The human shook his head and stood up, drawing his sword and putting the shield in his off-hand. “I don't know, but we have to be careful. Finding them won't do anyone any good if we're injured.” If they had run down the path though, chances were high there weren't any traps left to trigger.
With a steadying breath, Merdon sprinted forward down the dark pathway before him. Red was startled but managed to keep up well enough for Merdon to see what was immediately ahead of him. Certain sounds started to come up as they ran, above their heavy breathing. A lot of clacking and the sound of steel against stone and something the knight couldn't quite place. Soon, shouting could be heard, too faint to be understandable, but enough they both knew it was the right way to go. At one point they had to stop and turn back, the noises coming from a turn, but it only meant they were getting closer to their friends.
One last turn and Merdon was suddenly blinded by a light, causing him to yell and stumble backward over Red. The mage managed to slip to the side, but the human took a fall. Wincing herself, the kobold blinked a few times to clear the spots from her vision and flared her fire to get a better look ahead. The only thing she saw, however, was a wave of skeletons standing in front of them with swords. Her mouth hung open in horror, which only worsened when the two at the back slowly turned to face her.
“Merdon,” she said in a shaky voice. “I think we should run.”
The knight pulled himself to his feet and looked at them. Rather than run though, he set his jaw and stepped forward, weapon at the ready. “There's something you should know about skeletons,” he told Red as he brandished his sword, a slow grin forming on his face as the two approached. He moved faster.
With a roar, Merdon bashed his new shield into the one on his left, slamming it into a wall and reducing it to a pile of bones while he worked his sword into the ribs of the other. It looked down at his weapon in time for the knight to twist and yank his weapon in such a way it shattered the left side of the skeleton's rib cage. It didn't stumble from such an act. Rather, the walking bones swung at the knight, its slice met with a shield. Merdon moved with the precision of a combat-hardened warrior, taking out the skeleton's leg before bashing it with his shield just as he had the first one. When it crumbled, he put the skull under his boot and stomped, crushing it like glass under his weight.
“They have a tendency to fall apart,” he finished before stepping over and crushing the other skull as well. “See about burning the bones,” the knight told her as he looked ahead. There were more. A lot more. “If there's nothing of them to come back, they can't reform.”
Red nodded but glanced at the horde before them. “What about those?”
Merdon took a deep breath and took up a stance as several more skeletons turned towards him. “They're mine,” he growled.
Skeletons were not like ghosts. Ghosts made Merdon antsy, just like being underground. Ghosts could not be fought with sword and shield, only with magic or prayer, neither of which he was particularly proficient with. The walking remains were corporeal, they were something he could hit with his shield, his sword. They could be smashed, broken, dismembered, and Skyeyes could defend the others while he worked on doing that.
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“What's the holdup?” Merdon heard Sarel shout from the other end of the walking mass of bodies.
“I don't know!” Skyeyes replied, frantic. “It's not working on them, I don't know why.”
That was a problem. As much as Merdon heard the clattering of bones up ahead over his own calcium carnage, he also heard the sounds of them moving forward and reforming as they did. The knight huffed and stepped back from his opponents and went for something daring. Sheathing his sword, he hefted the shield in his hand and hurled it sideways, aiming for the area of least resistance, the skeletons' spines. Red watched with fear as Merdon threw his shield away, which shifted into a grin on her face as a dozen undead returned to piles of bones, splitting in half from the impromptu weapon.
Merdon wasted no time hurrying forward, stomping where possible to break things up, with Red following after him setting things on fire. Her work was a lot harder, and she was panting by the time she caught up to him. The light of her flames reached past the bodies and got the attention of the others.
“If that isn't Red, we've got a dragon coming,” Shade joked, her form just visible through the last of the skeletons in the way. Easily another dozen or so.
“Merdon!” Sarel shouted, jumping atop one set of bones and tearing the head off before retreating.
“Smash the skulls,” he told them as he dealt with the ones on his side. “It makes it harder for them to put themselves back together.
Skyeyes huffed. “That's a myth, Merdon. They're reanimated by magic. Their skulls would just piece back together.”
The knight paused and looked behind him. Between him and Red were many unburned bones, and not a single one was stirring. Shade frowned and snatched the skull from Sarel's hands, examining it quickly. There was a mark on the inside of the skull. They had been so focused on using the priest's magic they had ignored the other traps inside the temple. It had been a place of magic, and while necromancy was a kind of magic, there hadn't been any other evidence of it until the bones started moving from their resting place.
“They're golems!” she yelled, smashing the skull against the wall and causing the still standing corpse to collapse. “That's why Skyeyes couldn't repel them or return them to rest. They haven't been revived.”
Merdon smiled as he lifted his shield and readied his sword. “Red,” he called to her, “forget burning them. I think we have something better.”
The mage smiled herself, cooling her flames and pointing her claws at Merdon's weapon. She called forth the spell from Verist's tower, the one that had allowed him to cleave through rock. His blade shined and the knight went on the offensive. Having a clear target to aim for was just as helpful as Red's spell. The enchanted blade cut through bone as well as it would grass, rendering the golems inert as their sigils were broken. Though it didn't solve the problem as a whole, there was a power source somewhere in the temple, that wasn't their concern. Escaping the catacombs with the shield was all they wanted. Whatever loot or other secrets that were buried there were not the goal. Although they all considered what was worth protecting so much, the fact was they were busy in the world above with a war. Or below, depending on how far down the catacombs went.
After a couple of minutes, both sides worked towards the middle and met up, the last of the skeletons in their vicinity devoid of their heads. Shade picked up a femur and broke it over her knee in rage, tossing the two halves onto the ground with a huff. She was about to make a comment on Merdon's timing, but the mood between everyone felt heavier than the air after the orcs found Grot and her in the council chambers surrounded by dead chiefs. Her eyes followed the gaze of Skyeyes and Quickclaw, stopping on Merdon's face in the torchlight.
He was catching his breath and double-checking their surroundings, which only made it easier to see the large welt forming on his face. It wasn't from a blow, that was a burn. Sarel shifted her head at the pace of a snail towards Red behind the knight. She was looking at the ground, avoiding their looks.
“Got a little carried away with the fire back there?” Sarel said softly, her voice probably only carrying because of the tunnel.
“Bones do take a lot of heat to burn,” Skyeyes offered louder. “I'm surprised the tunnel didn't melt with them.” He chuckled nervously.
Red spoke up, her voice barely louder than the blue kobold's. “It was an accident.”
Sarel tensed, her claws forming into fists. “What was?” she asked, enunciating each word.
“We argued,” she replied, still quiet. “He... I...” Red couldn't form the words. It seemed stupid in hindsight. She still hated humans, that was never going to leave her, but seeing Merdon wounded like that had made her realize she didn't want to see him hurt. Verist was another matter, but the knight had helped her selflessly in the past. She was frustrated about so much.
“You got angry,” Sarel breathed. “And you burned him!” Her voice shook the catacomb, surprising the other kobolds, which the thief used to her advantage, pouncing towards Red with her fists.
Merdon stepped in her way and grabbed Sarel, turning with her momentum to drop her right back where she lunged from. The blue-scaled kobold blinked and spun back around. She glared at Merdon and then beyond him to Red. “You're taking her side?” she shouted with indignation.
“It was an accident,” he said to her calmly. “I lost my head too. Now isn't the time or the place for fighting each other, verbally or physically.”
Shade put a claw on Sarel's shoulder and told her, “I can understand your anger, believe me.” The assassin gave Red a dirty look as well before continuing, “But your verakt is right. Now is not the time. We should leave first.”
Merdon sighed. “We have a war to fight,” he told them both. “Now isn't the time as in not when there are bigger things at stake. Besides,” the knight smiled at Skyeyes, “we have a cleric, remember?”
Sarel relaxed her hands reluctantly. “Fine,” she spat. “Let's leave these tombs, quickly.”
Red frowned and led the way, Shade and Sarel bringing up the rear. Their path out of the catacombs was much easier than into them, and Shade made sure to jam the door inside of its own archway once they were out. The storm outside had yet to leave, still effectively stranding them in the temple, however, after their fight none of them were in the mood to walk several miles anyway. As Sarel, Shade, and Red went about setting up camp, the latter avoiding the former, Skyeyes sat down with Merdon to heal his burn. Once the camp was established once more, and the girls came to see, the priest was annoyed.
“I can't fix it,” he said with irritation. “It was caused by magic. There are surely accomplished priests that could heal such a wound, but this is beyond me.” And since those priests were in human lands, Merdon was stuck.
Red was on the verge of tears as Sarel and Shade looked at her from the side. “I'm sorry,” she apologized again.
Merdon reached up and rubbed the spot on his face. It was starting to heal, as much as it would, leaving it tender and half-covered with a boil. “Not my first scar,” he said to her, though again his tone made him feel distant. “I'll get over it.”
The mage nodded and left the others alone, slipping into her own tent. Quietly as she could manage, she buried her face in her hands and sobbed. When the worst of it was over, Skyeyes came in and put an arm around her, holding her gently until the tears were long past.
“I should have listened to you,” she said, her voice low to avoid eavesdroppers. “I let my anger get the better of me.”
“No,” Skyeyes told her. “You let it out at the wrong time, Skravna.” The priest settled, getting comfortable, and told her, “The goddess speaks of two distinct feelings when it comes to anger. There is hatred, a blind beast that brings ruin to all, and there is a righteous fury. The fury is anger channeled, directed towards a good purpose.” Likely used by the clergy to stir hatred against the kobolds, but in this moment, he meant it another way. “You have let yourself stew in the hate, you lost sight of who you need to direct yourself against. Merdon isn't your enemy, but he looks like one. As those in Ardmach tell the citizens we are monsters, you convinced yourself anyone that looks human is one.”
She was silent for a long time, questioning that internally. “What do I do?” Red asked, eventually. “How do I fix that?”
“You've started,” he told her, rubbing her back. “You hurt Merdon, and you know that's wrong, but it brought you back from the edge of your anger. Now you have to focus yourself. Anger and hate themselves are negative emotions. You must turn them into something productive. They are fuel for a fire, not fire themselves. Whether you let them catch and burn down the forest or stem their growth and build a camp is up to you.”
Skravna sighed and looked at Skyeyes with a frown. “You're always talking in these priestly metaphors. Just say what you mean for once, Shistra.”
The white-scaled kobold sighed. “Learn to let your anger out on those that deserve it. Merdon doesn't, Verist doesn't at the moment, but those slavers on the beach did. Your anger can be used for good, you can use it as a reason to get up in the morning, to help us with the rebellion, but if you live inside of it then you become dangerous to us all. Like you did with Merdon.”
Again, the red kobold went quiet to think about her mate's words. “So, I need to focus,” she said plainly. “To keep my head clear until I can let loose.”
“In a general sense,” he replied with trepidation. It would have been better for her to not go off again at all, but if she wasn't wounding their allies it was a step in the right direction.
“I'll apologize to Merdon again tomorrow,” she decided with a nod. “A better apology. Then I'll work on focusing.”
Skyeyes pulled away and sat across from her, getting a confused look from the mage. “Why not start now?” he suggested. “Have you ever tried meditating?”
“Not really, but Verist talked about it.”
He smiled. Verist knew well before he did, it seemed. “Close your eyes, and just breathe.” He should have thought about this months ago.