“If assassinations doesn't work,” Ierba asked, “What does that mean for killing him?”

Ratface, from his corner in the room, through mouth chewing cattail stalks, answered, “We're going to have to hit 'em straight. No way to stab 'em in the back if we don't have information.”

Nadier sat in silent thoughts. Too many pieces of the puzzles were floating about in his head, but none fit each other. Langsley's survival and apparent controlled zombiefication; Atro's ability to detect and remove ingested poisons; Ierba's missing Soul Arm; and his mysterious past as Arborior and what they did here 200 years ago. A part was missing, something that could connect all these dotted storylines.

Ierba asked Ratface, “Have you found Atro's room or wherever he stays at? There's bound to be information there.”

“I did. And ma' info says he's not here for the few hours.” The dwarf's face lit up with pride. “Not going there alone though.” He looked to Nadier.

The latter sighed and stood up. “Let's go then. Maybe we could get Trini to get us in?”

“Excited to see her, aren't ya'?” Ratface teased. “But she's out with her father right now. Ya' want to wait for her to come back? Make things easier?”

“No. There's no telling if we'll get another chance like this. Worse comes to worst, we'll just use this opportunity to scout ahead. Ierba? Cover our leave.”

Ierba bemoaned, “Can't believe I'm relegated to a supporting character stuck in a small room.” Even with his complaints, the knight prepared Nadier's hologram. “I miss my wife.”

The other two stared at him warily. “Ya' have a wife?”

“Yes,” the human answered, tone stung with insult.

“That loves you?” Nadier confirmed.

“Yes! Now fuck off!”

After a timed escape from the cell and a quick change into his guard disguise, Nadier was on his way up the familiar stairwell, led by a large rat of diamond fur. He was surprised nobody had caught up to Ratface yet, given how striking a cyan rodent stood out within the drab colours of winter. However, as they reached the ground floor landing, he turned his head away to grab the door for a single moment and the rat vanished from his sight as he stepped through to the other side. He scanned the area, looking schizophrenic as his eyes darted the ground, looking for the pest. For a moment, he wondered if he had perhaps left Ratface behind, opposite of the doors.

Then, the snowy ruffle of fur fluffed from a steam pipe above.

Once the beady eyes affirmed Nadier's attention had been caught, the rat scurried down the metal pipes deeper into The Arena proper, and he followed at pace. From the corner of his eyes, he glinted a black bird - perhaps a raven or a crow - flying skid across the ceiling. Perhaps it had slipped into the building interior from an opened door, seeking shelter from the cold.

They tracked further into The Arena, passing a large cross-junction concourse that separated the domes, and into the deep north. Ratface's little paws waved at Nadier and pointed to a storage room. Nadier looked to the door then back up, only to find the dwarf gone. He headed for the storage, entering as casually as he could, closing off the world behind.

Within, Ratface was pacing with slight dribbles of sweat running down his face.

“Need more exercise?” Nadier jabbed.

“Har har,” he laughed unenthusiastically. “Metamorphing's still magic. Can't keep holding that form forever. Is tiring.”

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Nadier creaked the door open slightly to make sure he wasn't followed. “Where are we headed?”

Ratface breathed. “Just around the right corner. Just follow ma' lead. I'll show ya'.”

The man began shrinking, his clothing slowly changing hue and flurrying into the diamond fur of his rat form. It was always surreal watching Ratface transform. The dwarfs had been labelled extinct by the time he had started building new memories, making him one of the few elves to have never seen the transformation first hand, up till that point at least. It reminded him of how some fire mages could turn the colour of their flames from one shade to the next. But to do so with skin felt unnatural and a perversion of nature.

Within moments, Ratface had leapt up the shelves and disappeared through a vent. Readjusting his helmet to better hide his skin, Nadier quickly followed out. He turned the corner as Ratface had instructed and found the rat above on a pipe before the entrance to another vent. A door was below the rat, guarded by two spear-wielding guards. Nadier nodded to his compatriot to go on without him first and the rat scurried through the vent and out of sight. Now, he needed to find a way in. Perhaps Ratface could cause a distraction from within, but that would likely cause more trouble than aid.

Then, he saw the raven again.

This time, it flew through a door further down the path as if an apparition or a ghost. Intrigued, Nadier followed the creature and opened through a -solid- door. Heat blasted his face which shocked him awake, even through his helmet. From having been in the cold landscape all these times, the extreme spike in temperature was jarring. He closed the door behind him and entered one of the many steam rooms, where a furnace burned brightly blood through grilled visors. Crates of wood and charcoal to his right signified the place's function as a source of steam and heat for the facility, copper pipes extending out from the furnace and boiler, across the room, and into the walls.

“This way,” a voice echoed within the space though Nadier was the only one visually there.

“Arbor,” another female exclaimed in hushed tones. “Quickly now before she drags you over.”

“I'm just making sure the coast is clear!” he could hear Arbor reply. “Do you really believe what Trini said?”

Nadier followed his memories to the back of the room where a stone cabinet stood, built seemingly into the wall itself.

“She believes her,” Anthes replied in her memorable third person speak. “She is a good judge of character, after all.”

“You married Raven,” Arbor sniped.

Raven, who had seemingly transformed back into her dwarven form, grunted back. “I'll hit you.”

“Do you need a stool?”

The voices in his memories faded into hushed bickering as his mind focused on the task at hand. The cabinet had no doors and simply was a storage for the tools used to maintain the furnace. But upon closer inspection, the back of it was made of a different cut of stone from the rest. He moved the shovel and axe to the opposite side of the cabinet, enough to create an angle of opening. He then took a crowbar from the pile of tools and jammed it into the slit corner of the back wall. With some finagling and leverage from his whole body, the wall began to hinge open until the crack was large enough for his fingers, after which he abandoned the tools and began pulling the entrance with his bare hands.

He was sweating, the heat form furnace added with the thick guard disguise meant all his bodily fluid soaked into his undershirt as he took the task of moving a wall. Eventually though, he managed an opening wide enough for him to squeeze through, which he did.

It was at that moment he was thankful for being a dark elf. His dark vision took half a minute to adjust, but once it did, he could make out the shaded outline of the lightless tunnel behind. The other side of the secret door had a handle carved into the stone. Clearly, the entrance was meant to be found and closed, which he did, locking out the light from the furnace with a huff.

The tunnel was slightly shorter than average height and narrow enough that he had to enter at an angle. Still, he was able to move relatively unobstructed. It was a not far stretched path, merely extending a few meters in before hitting a dead end. But like the cabinet before, the wall of the dead end was a different material to the wall of the tunnel. This time, it was that of wood. He could not make out the colour or specific type, but pushing against it made it clear whatever it was, while movable with effort, was heavy.

“Push harder!” Arbor's voice rang.

Nadier snapped back annoyed, “Easy for you to say.”

Eventually though, the wooden furniture dragged itself noisily over stone floors. He hoped wherever he was entering was enclosed and that the noise would not cause too much commotion. Soon, he stepped out into a darkened room. A darkened bedroom. From the beautiful double bed, to a carved marble dresser with a large oval opal mirror, and the expansive mahogany cabinet he pushed out of the way, whoever lived there was clearly well taken care of.

Ratface came through the lone door, eyes shocked to see Nadier. “Ya' scared me with that noise.”

“Are we...?” Nadier began questioning.

“Yeah. This be Atro's place. Come on, let's get snooping.”