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Iden had to duck for Alyna to rend the pinned cat's throat, but it was something he did not mind doing. This was more what he'd meant for her to do...to help him fight, not be his nursemaid. With the throats torn out, Iden hauled the breathless cat from the wall and casually discarded it as it wheezed.

Thank you. Keep moving, no time.

Quickly Iden scooped up his weapons. He would reload on the move, he couldn't afford to simply stop to change magazines. With affairs down here as they were, he could only hope the men upstairs were having better luck in their resistance than he and Alyna were. They were good men, well trained in counter-paranormal tactics, but this sort of foe was potentially beyond them.

This ain't the right floor, I don't think...the stink isn't strong enough. We need to move down.

I think an air vent is tight and unpleasant. Lets clean s**t out. Fire in the hole!

Iden pulled one of his last frags from his belt, pounded open the vent, and let the bomb fall. If it was a straight shaft, they would hear a distanced explosion; if not, a dull thump beforehand. The former would mandate they take the vent, the latter would suggest the elevator. It was in the bomb's hands, now, as Iden kept the hallway covered with his firearms.

Somehow I doubt that...I'll go first. Wait for my signal...or for more baddies to show, either works.

Iden had no desire to crawl down a compressing, black shaft. But Alyna was probably right; the elevator shaft would be crawling with enemies by now if he had to guess, and he doubted there'd be a stairwell without more resistance.

So he steeled himself, gripped his weapons tightly, and slid into the vent. He braced his legs against the shaft walls to ease his way down...until he decided it was just too uncomfortably cramped, and he was making too much noise anyway. Then, he just dropped.

The thunderclap of the ROMAN had Iden worried, though he was too far down to aid her when it came. Instead, he focused on his path as it spiralled down into the dark. It was not a comforting feeling, not when it was such a damp, claustrophobic place. It was too reminiscent of another dark passage, one which bore frightening similarities in circumstance.

And then, it opened. Instinctively he flipped forward, and landed so that he sprawled onto his back. The impact was softer than he'd expected it...it was not concrete at all. Even as his weapons snapped up to sight the vent, he knew he could not see it. Even when Alyna fell from the ceiling, it was nigh impossible to mark with his eyes where the vent had been. Besides which, his mind was churning over the presence of the sand at his back, the roundness of the chamber...the single seductive form on the grand disk of steel in the center....

Iden's eyes went wide with realization; his sense of optimism and purpose wavered.

Iden was all too painfully aware of movement from all sides. His guns started tracking in all directions as he slowly coiled himself back to his feet. Meanwhile, Mucalinda rose from Alyna's form and hissed spite and threats of death to all that drew close. If any came too close, just shy of arms reach, the naga would unleash hagnose breath until the whole of the area was blanketed in a thick, toxic fog.

Get back you ******** was a low snarl that hissed through Iden's teeth. He was tracking all of the wolves, thanks to Corbin's training. His weapons were loaded and ready to go. But there was a great host of them, compared to one of him. He hadn't expected this...already he had a sinking feeling in his gut. So far as he could see, he had just jumped willingly into Malfeas...and taken Alyna with him.

Not. Good.

Iden sighed, and slowly slid the dual handguns to their holsters. Each rested comfortably under his arms as he lifted his hands away, almost as if he meant to do things peacably. But then, as both hands lifted, so too did both middle fingers lift to the priestess.

Call me crazy, but last I recall home didn't have a stray problem. Now, I'll enjoy all you have to offer alright...

As he spoke, both barrels locked onto the woman. Iden was preparing something. He didn't trust this...ANY of this. If this was Malfeas, the Wyrm could manifest anywhere in the room. He was jumpy...paranoid, even. But his eyes were steeled when his fingers began to tense over the mere instant of his proclamation.

A pound of flesh and all that swill you call blood, all over the sand. Suck it, b***h.

The dual shocks of thunder shattered the quiet stillness of the foreboding pit. Iden had yet to see an unarmored target live through two ROMAN blasts...