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It was extremely odd that instead of a large mass of amorphic flesh which had not taken shape yet, there was a fetus in the spawning pool. As such, when Decruda saw it, one of his eyebrows arched upwards as he uttered a confused "Ey?"

He shrugged and cast another haste spell and then wandered off, no sense in trying to mess with something once it already started. So it appeared that something different had begun to happen in his most recent cloning experiment, but that would not prevent him from continueing it. If anything, the surprise only made him want to find out what the final product would be like.

She was being more observational than normal, watching Decruda go in and out of is chamber. Though she didn't make a spectacle of it, it was likely obvious that she was lingering about the halls in Decruda's path. on those occasions where he may have actually seen her while she was tuning imaginary instruments and plucking out melody, she offered a nod. If he didn't look at her, then she ddn't bother with the gesture. Sure, she could just 'see' past the walls and spy, but then the issue of trust among them would be brought up and that was something she didn't need right now.

And so, on that "next day" when he returned to cast his spells...

"What's the point of it all? Back and forth, back and forth. I've almost composed a rondo to your routine, but I don't know why."

What was this? In the darkness all around, I see something there. A tiny speck, an imperfect stain, this was called… light?

He opened his eyes as they were assaulted by a bright glow, bubbles escaped from his mouth as he tried to cry out, noise echoing through the liquid he drifted in. As the liquid entered his body, he reached out, clawing and grasping at nothing frantically as he tasted the salty metallic substance until a hand broke the surface of the pool and planted against the edge.

Pulling his head out of the pool, he regurgitated the viscous liquid, followed by several coughs as his other arm reached out to grab a hold of the rocky ground. His eyes were squinted as he peered around the area, wheezing, he drew in breath after breath of the putrid air. His eyes hurt from the iridescent glow of the many pools, his lungs burned from the liquid which had previously filled them, but he was conscious enough to get a good look of the surrounding area.

He dragged himself out of the pool as the liquid rolled off his naked body, spilling over the floor as he stood up, almost falling over as he balanced himself. And with one sluggish step at a time, he advanced to the one door he could see in the chamber.

As he opened the door with, oddly, an incredible ease, he peered around; nothing but dark hallways lit with an occasional torch which burned with violet flames down either side. He did not know where he was, but he had sense enough to want to get out of the area. He went down the corridor.

He could not measure the distance he had gone through the dark twisting hallways and tunnels, but he knew it was enough distance that it seemed odd that there was nothing else here. There were forms of life. No people. No animals. No insects.

Where am I?

Eventually, he found himself in a large chamber. He could not tell how large the actual size of the room was though, for it was lined with pillars everywhere, holding up a roof which was lost in the torch-less darkness. Yet, there was something here, unlike the empty lit hallways. It was not living, but that was not important; he had stumbled upon what appeared to be a treasure room in a dungeon. Piles of gold coins littered the floor with an occasional chest sitting atop of them, expensive vases were filled with magical scrolls, and skeletal corpses lay in all the riches.

He saw no need for the riches, for there was nothing here. It was unimportant to him. However, the corpses had significance. They had clothes.

As he dressed himself, he could not seem to manage to pull a tattered black sleeveless shirt down from his upper back, and then he realized something. He had these… things growing out of his back. He touched them gingerly before he turned his head to peer over his shoulder to spot a pair of skeletal wings. What the hell was he?

The rest of his clothing was of an odd assortment, made to go around the torn black shirt he put on to fit around the wings. He wore boots lined with metal on the shins, soles, and sides overtop of loose brown pants, and around his abdomen was a piece of leather, wrapped around hold the torn shirt in place. His forearms sported a pair of bracers, the one on his left lined with plates while the one on his right was simply wrapped around his arm. His left shoulder and neck were protected with metal guards however, attached by leather straps which wrapped around his upper torso. Finally, around his waist was a large white sash.

As he was tying the sash at his right side, he heard something. A growl. A low moan. The clattering sound of claws over a hard surface. And around the corner appeared a gaunt body; its flesh torn, its hands and feet ending in claws, its eyes empty but for a wild gleam.

And then it came at him with a screech. But, it was not alone, there were more, following behind it as they poured into the chamber. He stumbled back, falling over as the first leaped into the air to come down at him. His eyes went wide.

"OH s**t."

"Oh yeah."

Descant was done with the instruments, so tied up the pan flute on the tattered cloth. Notation was also finished, so she relieved herself of the pad and writing utensil. That ink-and-feather thing was just so cool. With everything seeming to be in order, she turned out and looked for Decruda. As long as he was on the premesis and not hiding somewhere for apparently no reason-- hopefully, he was in his chamber-- she'd find him. Otherwise, she wouldn't bother using Prophetas to scan around; must be a reason he didn't want to be found.

Well, as promised, she didn't go looking for him. She noticed a bit of activity, but thought that because of the week, day, whatever, things would happen like that. She was usually out at this time of the year. Whaaaatever.

Anyway, she was planning to leave as well so made her way out of the keep, taking those few things she was sure she'd want or need. Eventually, she'd catch up but for now, it was time to see what sort of things she could get herself into.

Apparently he wasn't familiar enough; either he was misinformed, or that he was relying on one of the many rumours about the cursed place, for no wraiths would bother heading away from the ruins to go all the way to the sad little decaying wooden fence where the man would strike a pose and act cool.

Their orders were very simple, interogate those who would advance upon the ruins, and for all the little boys in the nearby towns that want to test their courage by crossing over the fence, good for them, it didnt matter to the first guardians which were charged only to interogate those which actually bothered to approached the ruins.

And so the man entered deeper into the grounds. When the neared the structure, he would be met with a chill hollow voice, but no form to accompany it.

"State your business."