Chapter One: Sweet Dreams are Made of These

[Dracos]

"Possibly Liandril.  Let us go now.  The deeper path."

Dracos glanced at Bjorn.  "May luck be with ye."

Dracos looked down the deeper path, examining the way first and then leading down it, expecting that the others will follow.

Dracos

[Brian]

Liandral ignores Phil and stalks up to Paul, grabbing the neck of his tunic.  "Know your place and speak sense," he snaps.  "This is much larger than you, master bard, this is about the lives all all we know, and all we love, and if we do not fight for it, then we've consigned everyone and everything to death.

"I do not like this plan, no I don't, but I know that if I fall, there is some small hope that you will live, and with that life, continue to fight on.  Try not to allow Madame Mirallia to be hurt."  With one last glare, he whirls away, marching towards the right half of what is (now that you're closer to it) a staircase.

The right half is a smaller archway (only half the width of the stairway) but steeper, and further down.  The left half appears to curve away to the left, but you can't see much more than that, due to the poor lighting.

The cut and smoothed stone of the walls and stairway changes in those passages, though.  There, instead of massive stone bricks, the walls and archways are irregularly shaped, mortarted together with some thick cement-like substance.  Liandral pauses beneath the archway, and turns to wait for Nathan and Phil.

[Dracos]

Dracos heads down the path, Rez following a bit warily behind him.

Dracos

[Bjorn]

As Liandral stalks off, Bjorn eyes the remainder of the party.  "We should get going, too," he says, as if nothing had just happened.  "I'll be in front.  My lady, if you would follow behind me, to provide light, and...  Paul, would you mind watching the rear?"

He moves closer to the staircase, but does not yet set down it, watching the others expectantly.

[Brian]

The lady nods slowly, and moves over to the staircase.  This moves the light with her, and Parthipan has to move to the top of the stairs to avoid being left in the dark.

"This is it, then?" Liandril asks, further down the stairs.  "This is where we shall part?"

[Bjorn]

"So it seems," Bjorn says, with a faint twist of the corner of his mouth.   "Good luck, and may we meet on the far side."

[Ginrai]

While the others are discussing if splitting up is a actually a good idea, Ginrai heads over to Liandral.  "This might seem a bit strange, but could you tell me how you were able to use the 'firefly' spell?"

[Brian]

Liandril looks at Parthipan strangely.  "Lorekeeper?  You placed it upon me yourself, do you not remember?"

[Ginrai]

'Damn, should've known.'

"Ah, of course.  My apologies, Liandral, for I seem to have become a bit forgetful since the battle.  If I hadn't alredy told you before, you'll need to have either Master Bloom or Nathan look out for anything strange on your path as the spirit blocks your view of certain things."

And with that Ginrai turns and heads towards where Bjorn, Paul and the Lady are.  "I'll try to help out in some way if necessary, Bjorn, though at the moment I only seem to remember a few spells and even of those I'm not completely sure."  While walking he reaches out for his necklace and feels it, hoping that it might help him recall anything about it.

[Brian]

Lianrdril blinks at something you said, but nods.  "Thank you ... master lorekeeper.  Be well upon your journey."  With that, he turns back to Bjorn, and says, "Luck to you as well.  Any kind gods willing, we will meet again."  He salutes, then, making a fist and holding over his heart for a moment before wheeling about, and following Phil and Nathan into the depths of the deeper passage.

The lady looks troubled, but says nothing, merely shaking her head.  "We must go onward," she says, as the two pools of light grow further apart.  With that, she takes her first step behind Bjorn, down the left passage.

And so ends Sweet Dreams are Made of These.  We now move on to:

(Ginrai, Huitzil, Bjorn): Leap of Faith.

(Dracos, Rezantis): The Halls of Our Fathers.