It took a minute or two for Chloe’s legs to stop shaking enough so that she was able to push herself up to stand, with Rosaendra’s hand on her shoulder.

“I’m alright.” She steadied herself on the railings of the banister.

Pale fright still clung to her features, and her footsteps were still a bit uneasy so Rosaendra guided her until they moved back inside, just in case her legs gave out, and she lost her balance and fell off the edge.

“Should we split up?” Rosaendra asked as they pulled the door closed behind them.

“No! No.” Chloe protested. “I know we’d cover ground quicker but...I don’t know if I could, uh, find my way back.”

Chloe’s shoulders trembled at the thought of being left alone. They waited for a moment at the end of the hall until all of the tremblings finally stopped.

“I’m sorry.” She said, as she took a breath and swallowed the saliva built in her mouth, “Let’s go. Where should we start?”

“Well, since we’re not splitting up, I suppose the nearest room.”

Chloe nodded as if the statement was obvious. They had no other way to go. She held her blade in front of her as they passed back through the hall and made their way to the nearest door. Rosaendra pressed her ear against it before they pushed it open. When it was shown that it was devoid of life, Chloe’s shoulders unclenched.

The room was small —about five steps across widthwise, and six steps lengthwise. Chloe; the taller of the two, had to stoop her head down so as to not brush against the top of the ceiling. Aside from a small path in the middle that led to another door at the other edge of the room; this one was filled from floor to ceiling with barrels about half the size of Rosaendra, and boxes on top of those.

“I wonder what’s in these?”

Rosaendra knocked on one of the nearest to her left. It sounded packed to the brim. Chloe put a hand on her shoulder and pressed a finger to her own lips to shush her.

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“What? We’re going to have to look through these, I hope you know.”

“Wh— oh the talisman...could be in them, huh? Can we do that as a last resort?”

It would probably take days to thoroughly.

“Well, let’s just see what’s in them. Help me with this one, yeah?”

Rosaendra grabbed one end of the crate, and Chloe hesitatingly slid her blade home in its sheathe tapping against her thigh.

“One, two, three,” Rosaendra grunted as the crate lifted off of the barrel. They set it down on the ground between them, and she took a deep breath. “Now...how do we open it...”

The sword would probably snap; the leverage against the tip would be too much, so Rosaendra grabbed hold of her athame and wedged it in between the gap beneath the lid, and pulled up until the first of the rusted nails snapped. The others soon follow with a loud yank.

“Shit...” Rosaendra muttered as she felt the wooden beams vibrate, and the room on the other side of the left-hand wall began to move as whatever was in there stirred. “Something’s coming.”

“I told you we should have held off on this!”

“We would have had to fight them regardless!”

“We could have ambushed them.”

Rosaendra didn’t have a response to that. They could have. It would have worked a lot better if they did. They had trouble with one, and now it seemed like two were approaching. One from either side.

“Let’s go this way.” Chloe motioned to the door on her side of the crate.

“No, no. This one sounds further away.”

“Then we’ll get surrounded before we reach it. If we go this way we can overwhelm the one coming over here before the other even has a chance to catch up.”

The argument lasted for another few sentences before both doors opened and near the same time. Rosaendra held her dagger in front of her and across her chest, and Chloe drew her sword as she saw the knob jiggle, and pointed it towards the door as it swung inwards.

“Shit...shit, shit,” Rosaendra muttered.

The four of them stared at each other. Not one of them made a single move. The one in front of Rosaendra had shimmering red scales like a snapper's. Barnacles encrusted its body, and a shiny black beak emerged from its mouth. In its webbed hands, it held a short blade in front of it. It wore scant clothing, like most of its kind, save for a coat of black, segmented-plated armor over its chest; Rosaendra noticed that the straps that would hold it in place weren’t all buckled, and as a result, the breastplate hung loosely over its chest like a too-large, sleeveless sweater.

The one currently in a standoff with Chloe had bright orange scales, with black and white stripes; like a bipedal, clownfish. Spines like those of a puffer fish lined its face and webbed hands. It held a deadwood shield in its right hand, and had its left hand held open as if to grab; the palms were, likewise covered in tiny spikes. Chloe trembled as she stared it in its bulbous black eyes. Its gills raised and fell in cadence with her hurried breaths.