The silence in the circular, stone-walled, room is broken by the three figures hauling themselves up through a grate in the centre of the floor.  Two flights of stairs wind around the outside of the room, mirror-images of each other, towards doors set flat against the ceiling.  Dust lies everywhere, in small piles, in lines, in groupings that, if viewed just so could be the shape of a body.  The air smells strongly of lavendar, with undertones of mildew and decay.  Three wooden crates are stacked below the only window, a high, narrow affair nine or ten feet from the floor and reaching two feet or so up to the ceiling.  If these are the only supplies in the tower, then it's slim pickings.

Jamie pulled himself into the room and looked around warily. No immediate threats, at least not in this room. He shoved the grate back into place and grabbed one of the crates to put over it. This place wasn't safe, not by a long shot, but if he could stop those Hammerhands from following them, that was one less threat to worry about.

Following the mannites through the grate Dirnal looks about then moves towards the creats. “Take care youngen lest Thee be squished like a pomegranate in a sty” great third cousin Urialmba's caution issued from the stream. "Tis true Cousin Urialmba One will search em somethin careful." Dirnal replied as he examined their exterior for possible knott holes which he could peer through.

Nathyn nods in agreement at Jaime's action, although he has the guard pause long enough to allow the former Wayfarer to climb the crates and take a look out the window to check their position.

Once the deed iss done, he looks up the twin stairways and gives a wry grin. "Any preferences?" he asks his teammates, gesturing towards the choice of pathways.

Eyeing the barricade dubiously at least it would slow them down a little he thought. Pulling a coin from a pocket he grinned at the mannites "Profile be yon left stair and Face be right." he informed tossing the coin in the air...

"We ought to go right..." Jamie states distractedly, looking back at the crates. "What do you suppose is in these? We prob'ly ought to check."  Jamie approached the crates by the window.  The one he'd dragged onto the grating in the middle of the room was solid enough, took quite an effort to shift it.    The lids looked to be loosely nailed down, should be easy enough to pry off...

Nathyn gives a doubtful look at the plan but remarks, with grudging acceptance, "It might give us some idea of what may be in store above. Here, let me help you." He draws his dagger with the intent of using it to pry the lid off the crate Jaime is heading to.

Deftly tossing the coin into the air, watching as it sins upward, Dirnal snatches it before it reaches the top of its arch, opening his hand to peer at its surface he nods appropriately. Deftly pocketing the coin he manoeuvres to a better vantage point and allow the mannites access to the crate he cranes to peer into the crate.

Dust filled the crate to within a hand's span of the top.  Fine, swirling dust.  So fine that it was almost a liquid, appearing to lap at the wooden container.  As the three watch, definite waves appear, radiating out from near the centre of the box.

Jamie slamed the lid back down on the crate and backed up a few steps, his face going a little pale. "I don't think we want to take that back with us."

Nathyn's face is pale under the grime as he stands back with Jaime, one hand gripping his dagger tightly while the other instinctively reaches for the sliver sigil on his garb. "I agree," he says, his voice tight.

Unable to see inside the crate Dirnal was maneuvering to get a look when the watchman slammed it shut. The noise was enough to wake the dead he thought. Jumping back with a start, staring first at the crate then at the watchman.

Jamie looked warily at the other boxes. They would have to check them all eventually. He cursed quietly. Perhaps volunteering for this job wasn't the smartest thing he'd ever done. But if they pulled this off... it would all be worth it. He gave a nod towards the other crates and said, "We checking the others now, or seaching the rest of this place first?"

Nathyn examines the other crates with obvious reluctance, but says, "It is better to know than live in doubt."

He shifts his grip on the dagger as he approaches the objects of their curiosity. "I'll take the next one."

Jamie stayed where he was, and kept a hand on his sword. He knew it wouldn't do any good if something went wrong, but it made him feel a little better anyways.

If they only let him see inside the first crate... Well Dirnal thought if they want to act that way he'd just have to find a higher observation point..  Moving onto the right stairs he climbed high enough to permit an unblocked view at the tops of the crates.
 
Nathyn levered off the lid of the second crate.  It appeared to be full of scraps of leather, strips no more than an inch or two wide joined by rough stitching.  With a sick sensation in the pit of his stomach, Nathyn realised he knew what would be in the third crate.

Ten years previously, Nathyn just a lad at the time.  Three warriors had ridden through his village, followers of the Argent Path, towards a tower no-one went near any more, not since the Jerrad boy had his accident.  Nathyn followed, sneaking through the trees.  Sitting on the steps of the tower, an old man with a sewing kit was stitching leather jerkins. At least they had looked like jerkins, or trousers, or boots. Another old man was twisting wire around the joints of a mannikin made of curious sticks, a third was dressing the mannikins in the clothes being stitched by the first.  When the riders hailed them, none of the men responded.  The third man calmly stitched the clothes together on the mannikin and began pouring a fine sand in through the open neck.  He died, a crossbow bolt from the lead rider pinning him to the door post.  The second old man looked up at this interruption, grabbed a needle and began sewing the neck shut. The crossbow sang again but this time it's song was strangled as the bolt splintered before it could be released. The sewing complete, the mannikin jerked once or twice then strode over to the riders.  What followed was confusing, at best.  Somehow the three warriors lost their horses, one of them thrown into the trees by the mannikin, the others stampeding back towards the village.  One of the warriors died, his head torn clean from his body to be caught by the last surviving old man. How the battle finished, Nathyn only found out later when a warrior stumbled from the woods with a sack containing three heads.  The village elders each paid a coin to see them.  Smoke rose from the tower.

Bones.  The third crate would contain bones.

Nathyn carefully lowers the lid and leans on the crate as the weight of memories presses down on him. "Light of Sanctahl, protect me," he breathes softly.

His eyes shining with a strange mixture of sick despair and fervent resolve, he speaks to his teammates, "This is a place of fell magic. I'm afraid whatever we find here will not aid our Captain or us. Nevertheless, it is our duty to carry out our mission. Leave that last crate. It holds nothing useful to us."

His hand once again brushes the silver sigil on his garment, as if seeking comfort in its presence.

Jamie looked at the Wayfarer curiously. All that had been in the crate was some scraps of old leather, not nearly as bad as that spooky dust. Yet Nathyn had clearly felt that there was something Bad about them and Jamie was willing to trust his teammates instincts. He took one last distrustful look at the crates and turned to the stairs.

"Alright, lets keep going." Dirnal ws already near the top of the proper staircase, so he called up to the gnome. "Get that door open. We're moving on." Jamie headed up the stairs to backup the gnome, hand still on his sword. I hope this wasn't a big mistake.

Nathyn spares one more glance at the ominous crates before following Jaime. If they manage to find a way out, he swears to make sure those crates are destroyed. There can be no good that comes from their existence.

With that thought, he moves up the stairs, his senses alert and his mind focused on their task.

"Eff Thee be wanting yon door open" Dirnal replied pointing with his thumb towards the door at the top of the opposite stairs "Why be Thee comming towads One." he asked the footpad trying to fathom the oddness of mannites.

Jamie gave the gnome a confused look. "If you want to start making sense, now's the time to do it. Now get that door open and keep your head down." With one last glare for the gnome, he looked towards the door.

Without touching the door the gnome descended the stairs "By all means after Thee" Dirnal replies strolling down the stairs and positioning himself behind Nathyn.
 "Ey be a hothead then youngen something akin to a badger with ets head stuck en a bramble bush methinks" great Sister Yaaralla commented.

Jamie watched the gnome walk arrogantly past, too surprised for a moment to speak. He glared back at Dirnal and growled "Damn halfmen." Shaking his head, he turned back to the door. As if dealing with this cursed tower wasn't bad enough, I have to put up with that worthless halfman as well.

Casting an indulgent glance in Jamie’s direction; with the longsuffering patients of a schoolmaster Dirnal corrected the thuggish watchman." Tis a failing most mannites hath; thinking themselves as half, quarter or such. Mayhap it be such usage of their own faculties... One doth propose honey be more useful than shifting sands." 

Jamie froze, his hand already on the door. The gnome still wasn't making much sense, but the insult was clear. He couldn't let that stand, but how should he handle it? A direct show of force would work. The halfman seemed the kind to respond well to that kind, but he doubted that Nathyn would stand for that and they were still in an absurdly dangerous place. Trying to explain how reasonable his request had been would be worthless. The halfman assumed himself smarter, superior, and wouldn't even listen to logic. That left threats. He could work with that.

A few tense breathes later, Jamie spoke, his voice quiet, but dripping with poorly concealed anger. "You should be careful. A fall down these steps would probably break your little body."

"True twould do so, however a wound that doesn't heal afflicting Thee would be the worse for all." Dirnal countered the thugs threat   

Nathyn's voice, laced with dry humor, floats up to the two as he joins them at the top of the stairs. "I'm sure the Hammerhands will be gratified to learn you're both doing their work so well."

The bantering tone slides off to reveal the coldness of stone underneath. "You don't need to be friends, or even stand the sight of each other. But if we're going to survive this and see clean sunlight again, by the Path, you're going to work together. Am I clear?"

Jamie turned back, unapologetic, but perhaps a little subdued. Then the gnome spoke...

"Doth Thee also resort to threats follower of Argent... Most interesting perhaps Thee should understand the true nature of Thy fellow mannite." he gestures towards the standover merchant. "One be a Freeborn Gnome such threats issued from his ilk be inconsequential in light of the recent cataclysm, all mannites hath brought on the world.... Listen not did all Ye Disregard wise council did all Ye... Heed not did all Ye..."

Dirnals words were taken up and repeated throughout the stream. First by one then another until they became a roar like the sound of the sea. "Listen not did all Ye... Disregard wise council did all Ye... Heed not did all Ye..."

"One be here to provide aid anst save lives, as per Ones calling, not by compulsion by yon Mal or such. If Thee both think otherwise anst continue to treat One in such Little regard, considering One beneath Thee or treating One ast a sub-life Ye can both continue without Ones assistance. Tis easy enough for One to withdraw anst quit this ruins entirely" he informs the overbearing mannites.

Jamie sneered down at Dirnal from the stairs. The gnome preached and threatened. Fine, he could have it his way. Jamie drew his sword and started to walk down the stairs towards Dirnal. "Then leave spellslinger. The exit is right there." He gestured toward the grate, still covered by one of the crates, with his sword. "Otherwise, we'll see how loud you roar without a tongue."

"Stay your hand, Jaime," Nathyn says, in a tone that speaks of request that could shift to command if needed.

Bending down so that his face iss of equal height to the gnome's, Nathyn addresses Dirnal in a level, reasonable voice, "I gave no threat, Master Dirnal, but an honest assessment of our situation. Whatever your reason for being here, the fact is that you are here with us. And for us," he shifts his gaze to include Jaime in his appraisal, "all of us to survive, we need to sow or reap no discord amongst ourselves. We each have skills and knowledge to share, of equal value."

His eyes moves back to focus on the gnome. "I have treated you as an equal in this endeavor. No worse, and no better. If I have given you cause to believe otherwise," Nathyn pauses, softening his tone, "then I ask for forgiveness. It was not my intention."

The Wayfarer sighs. "Whatever the reason for the cataclysm that has claimed so much of our world, we now find ourselves all on the same plight. If you choose to spend your time pointing blame, are you any better than those thuggish zealots who accosted us? They blame magic and seek to punish those they perceive wield it, in the name of twisted retribution."

Nathyn stands up, swiping dust from his trows. "I choose to look at the road ahead and see how we can once again bring the light of civilization to shine in these dark times, instead of glancing back with reproach at the path taken so far."

His mouth twists in a wry smile. "Do you find fault in that?"

“One dot reciprocate Thy apology Goodfellow” Dirnal replies smiling at the Argent devotee

“One shall add that we of Gnomism hath knowledge beyond mortal bounds, Tis such We set forth to alert others anst prevent calamities ast occurred tis unfortunate such fell on deaf ears...” he informs quietly attempting to prevent Jamie from hearing.

Fixing the watchman with a cautious eye
“If Yon companion recants his threats, against One, anst pledges not to entertain such forthwith. Anst abates issuing commands unto One is such manner, to-wit ordering One in a manner befitting a possession or lowly underling One shall consent to remain”

Nathyn raises an eyebrow as he regards the Gnome. "Would you in return abstain from treating him with disdain for whatever actions he may have been responsible in the past?" he asks in return.

Dirnal waits for comment from the other watchman.

Jamie shrugged. "I made a reasonable request and he started actin' like an ass. That's all. He doesn't go lecturing, preaching or going off about his damned gnomish superiority," Jamie spat, showing just what he thought of that. "and I don't have a problem. Would be nice if he pulled his weight, but I'll settle for not pissing me off."

Drinal was taken aback by the childish outburst  "Such be more a command than request..."  he corrected "Thee doth see Devotee of Argent yon isn't even willing to enertain simple agreement."

Nathyn rubs his forehead. "I see a man reacting to perceived arrogance. Rudely, yes, but not entirely unwarranted," Nathyn explains with patience.

With a sigh, he tries once again. "Just because he doesn't say 'please' does not make his statement a command. Agreement is a river that flows in both directions. If you want to be accorded respect, perhaps you should consider treating others as you would have others treat you."

Dirnal stared blankly at the Argent follower 'Typical of mannites overlook their own thugish nature and disregard others concerns or critisize them altogether.' he thought "Doth Thee suggest One threatens to cut out another's tongue..." he asks distaste at the thought showing in his face...

Jamie gets a confused look on his face, trying to puzzle out what Dirnal meant by that. "So... are you saying Nathyn should threaten to cut out someone's tongue? No...you're saying Nathyn suggested that you threaten someone?" Jamie threw up his hands in frustration. "That's rediculous! What's the point in argueing with 'im if he assumes we're idiots and ignores any sense in our arguements?!"

Nathyn's mouth quirks as he tries to suppress a smile. This absurd situation reminds him of the late-night debates he'd engaged in with his fellow supplicants during his training, as each tried to find the most absurd position to support with logic.

Addressing Dirnal, he tries to explain patiently, "No, but assuming the worst of other people is a sure way of having them think the worst of you."

He shifts his glance for a moment to Jaime to include him in the conversation. "It comes back to my original statement. I'm not asking the three of us to strike up a friendship, or even stand the sight of each other. But for the nonce, we need to be able to work together without complaint if any of us are going to make it out alive. I can't make that any clearer."

He looks at them steadily waiting for their response.

*THUMP*

The door at the top of the stairs rattled in its frame, small motes of dust cascading down from the edges. Jamie took a couple steps back down the stairs.

*THUMP*

A couple of nails fell from the ancient wood.

*CRASH*

The door slammed open, the darkness beyond almost alive.

The sound of steel leaving its sheath rings in the air. "Dirnal, behind me! Jaime, look alive!" Nathyn shouts, his sword up and ready in his hand. "In Sanctahl's name and in His sight!"

Dirnal didn’t need prompting, being he was there already, he merely stepped closer towards the wall presenting a smaller target and sheltering himself from falling dust that was scattered by the impact of the door against the wall Attempting to peer past the mannite legs into the darkness beyond he spotted several even darker forms within.

Jamie gave a roar and lunged forward as the door slammed into the wall, realizing too late that there was nothing there for him to stab. Something grabbed at his sword, tendrils of darkness lashing out from the doorway and coiling around his arm. His cry was cut short as he was pulled bodily through the doorway and into the darkness beyond. His last thought as the darkness closed over his face was the cold understanding that he had made a big mistake.

"JAIME!" Nathyn shouts. He stifles the immediate impulse to jump in after his teammate, his training kicking in and guarding him from reckless action that would likely have him sharing Jaime's fate.

"Dirnal! We need light! Get the lantern going!" he calls out, as he advances slowly, his sword ready and his eyes straining to find any pattern in the Stygian darkness. His voice mutters a prayer, an unconscious gesture to tamp down the panic gibbering in his mind at the supernatural horror facing him.

Quickly holding forth the lantern its beams of light streamed towards the darkness which appeared to resist, driving back and reflecting the beams towards its source. "Tis an evil ting which doth abound yonder, hast Thee goodfellow knowledge of such" Dirnal squeaked as he fumbled inside a side pouch. Withdrawing a three part mirror and attaching it to the lantern, reflecting additional light towards the darkness. Directing a stream of light forward it penetrated the darkness driving it back and illuminating the area for 10' beyond the opening.

The illumination lasted for a second or two, long enough to see Jamie standing with his back to the door, sword-arm limp by his side.  A tendril of darkness, as solid as smoke, lashed out at the lantern, sending it tumbling from Dirnal's grip to break at the foot of the stairs.  The darkness in the room bulged around the edges of the doorway before bursting like a soap bubble and plunging them into...

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