The dark-furred Skreek gasps for breath as he takes a rest on a large rock alongside an invisible "trail" that zig-zags up the steep mountain slope. "Well," he squeak-gasps, "there it is! Not a beaut, but it's been there a long time, and it's likely to stay that way."

Jarik looks around, "Hm… " He turns and smiles at the Skreek. "I like it. It's just like home. Sure, not as grand as the Hall of the Shadowed Mountain, but… "

Jarik looks up the trail, "How large is the entire watchpost?"

The rat puts a clawed hand to his hairy chin, and muses, then says, "Oh … uhm … " He stretches out his arms. "Pretty big. They used to keep supplies for the hard winters. And we'll need some, when that comes around."

"Used to be, long, long ago, travellers could stop here for the night. That was back when the authorities were real big on being friendly-like to travellers, of course. Nowadays, it's everyman for himself!" the rat says with a nod.

Jarik hmmms and shifts his weight a bit, "How bad do the winters get?" { And will this trial even be passable at that time? }

The Skreek answers, "Mighty bad. In fact, at times, the airships can't even get in. That's when you have the most caravans. Otherwise, flying's much safer and even costs less from most parts."

Jarik muses, "One good thing. This place will be fairly easy to defend… " He looks at the rat, "Lead on, good sir. I'd like to see the place up close."

The rat nods, and starts anew, apparently having done good for the brief rest from the climb up the path. The walk isn't quite so hard for Jarik – It's just mostly that his rodent companion probably isn't used to quite as much exercise as he's been getting as of late. After all, the rat has been in a cell likely for longer than he will admit.

Jarik's ears flick while they travel, "Was the place scouted before our arrival? I'm sure raiders may have had the same idea about this place… "

As they reach the top, and come to the stone structure, no one is visible to greet them. Even up close, the illusion that this place is still abandoned yet remains. But then the rat goes through the wooden front door (which, despite attempts to make it look weathered, is evidently a recent repair), there is torch light visible inside. "Of course," the rat squeaks with a grin.

Jarik steps through the doorway and glances around…

For a brief moment, the fox gets a glimpse of figures in various states of repose, but immediately they break into action. Some stand up and salute in a military fashion … or a pathetic imitation of one. Others raise their weapons in the air and hail Jarik's arrival, or solemnly pound themselves on their chests, or express greetings in a number of other ways, in a most disorganized fashion.

A big green-shelled Vykarin bumbles over to Jarik, and immediately begins snuffling at him, then makes a big tongue-lolling grin.

The Skreek, now just one of many in the room, chitters, "We've got some bunk rooms set up, and a bunch of sheets to string up for privacy and such. Still lots to do. It's a real fixer-upper, you know. And nobody can go about alone, on account of the ghosts."

Jarik avoids a laugh and just smiles, "Good day, everyone. Please, return to whatever you were doing." He reaches over and pats the Vykarin, "Good day you too… "

Jarik's ears perk, "Ghosts… ?"

The group obediently returns to doing … not much in particular. A few sounds of hammering, though, hint that at least someone is trying to get some work do – *WHACK* "OW!" (curses omitted)

The Skreek nods solemnly. "Yeah. Ghosts. Of course, that's why we get the place to ourselves. I mean, we don't really believe in them too terribly much. Not as long as we stick together and don't let anybody wander off alone."

Jarik's right eyebrow arches, "Where are these ghosts? Have you seen them?"

The rat looks to the others, then says, "Course not! If I did, I'd be a raving lunatic, or else I wouldn't be standing here, or something awful would happen. But we hear 'em. And we see examples of their, uh, pair of normal pheronomes."

Jarik looks around for a place to sit, "What have you seen or heard? Are you sure this place is abandoned?"

A big lupine in stitched leathers stops chewing on a well-gnawed bone, and waves it around as he growls, "Many story of ghost. Big Jupani. Kept wayfarer by night. But had taste for Cervani." He nods solemnly. Some of his smaller comrades shift a bit nervously nearby. "Say his ghost cursed to haunt. No good if he find you."

Jarik hmms, "Perhaps I should look around this place a bit. Anyone care to join or should I go alone?"

The rat shudders a bit at the lupine's summary of one of the tales, then chitters, "Well, we've found icky-plasm dripping here and there – It's a REAL mess to clean up – and then there are the moans and … uhm … " He looks around. "Sure. TROG! Show the boss around, eh?"

The bone-gnawing wolf stands up, and grabs a spiked club propped against a bench, casually slinging it over his shoulder. "Trog show boss around," he grunts.

Jarik nods to Trog, "Please do. Why don't we start with the farthest rooms and work back to here."

The wolf nods, and strides toward one of the doorways leading off from the hall. A quick glance at the other doorways reveals that they branch off to some smaller chambers that are presently serving as bunkspace. Everyone seems to be camping out near the entrance.

Jarik follows Trog through the doorway, looking around as he walks. Surely there are no such things as ghosts, right?

Trog grunts, "No ghosts. But Trog no like be alone in dark." He grabs a lit torch from a wall mounting as he walks by, illuminating the way.

Jarik looks at the supports on the ceiling, "How large is the complex, Trog?"

As he walks along, the torch-light reveals some greenish goo slowly oozing down from a spot on the wall. The wolf pointedly ignores it. "Dunno. Not gone down yet. Many tunnels. But plenty room up here. Make nice house if no ghosts."

Jarik hmms at the goo, "That could be just fungus… Down? Hm, why don't we go down? I'd like to see the full layout of this place."

Some battered chitin shields bearing coats of arms hang on the walls at odd intervals. Some have been removed from their mountings, and, by Jarik's memory, match the appearance of those that some of the guards up front have procured for their use. The wolf kicks a feline skull out of his way, then grunts, "This way." He turns toward an alcove that contains a descending stone staircase. "There another way, but wood rot out."

The wolf gives the feline skull another good kick, then walks down the steps, the torch igniting a couple of cobwebs on the way down.

Jarik blinks, "Alright. We'll have to repair any rotting wood." He follows the wolf down the staircase… { Hm, we need to paint the shields with our coat of arms… } He brushes aside the cobwebs, trying to be careful to not pick up any spiders.

A couple of vermites skitter by. One fails to escape the thick sole of the wolf's boot. The wolf grins at the resulting sound.

*dingdingding* A light ring of a bell sounds somewhere in the darkness, beyond the reach of the flickering torchlight, just as the wolf reaches the bottom of the steps, where three roughly-hewn corridors intersect in a "T".

Jarik's ears swivel, trying to locate the sound, "What was that… ?"

The wolf frowns. "Trog not hear any bell."

Jarik half-smirks, "Okay… " He decides this would be a good time to draw his sword, and does so.

Jarik says, "Let's travel left until we can't anymore, and make our way back, then checking all the right paths… That should cover the entire area… "

It takes a moment to adjust the eyes for the contrast between the darkness and the torch, but it seems there's light coming from the direction of the leftmost tunnel. This direction would take one heading back toward the entrance, or at least parallel to the main corridor on the upper level. A right turn would take one deeper into the mountain, while straight ahead would be going along its circumference.

The wolf swallows, and nods. "Trog go left." He turns right and starts marching down the corridor.

Jarik puts his hand on the wolf's shoulder, "Your other left… "

Jarik points toward the light, "That way… "

The wolf grumbles. "Left. Right."

The wolf heads in the indicated direction, mumbling, "Left, right, left, right. Make learn too much. Trog just want bash heads."

Jarik goes left with Trog – this time at his side instead of behind…

At first, it's hardly noticeable, what with the flickering shadows caused by the torch, but there is evidently some motion ahead. Plus, there's a breeze that comes down the corridor, threatening to put out the torch entirely. The wolf is walking slower now. "Torch get old. Go back, get new one," he grunts.

Jarik smiles at Trog, "Not necessary." *FWOOM!* Jarik's sword ignites into a brilliant azure flame. "This will last indefinitely."

The wolf's eyes go wide at sight of the flame. He lets out a wild bellow, and starts flailing about wildly with his spiked club, aiming for the sword!

Jarik leaps backwards! "Hey now! I'm generating the flame! Calm down… !"

Jarik tightens his grip on the swordhilt… "Just relax… "

The wolf looks incredulously at Jarik and the flaming sword, then bellows something in an unintelligible tongue … and barrels back down the corridor the way he came.

Jarik sighs, "Alright, it looks like I'm on my own, then."

Jarik shakes his head and continues down the hallway toward the light…

The light is not quite as noticeable now that it has to compete with Jarik's magical blaze. As he approaches, however, he finds that the cause is that the end of the corridor makes a sharp right turn, but that ceiling has collapsed at this point, opening up a crack that lets in sunlight from outside.

The crack is about the right size for an arrow-slit. It's not big enough for anyone to squeeze through – not unless one is especially small, anyway.

Jarik hmms, "Must remember to have this point reinforced… " He tries to look trough the hole…

Through the hole, Jarik gets a view of the caravan trail below. If he angles just right and pokes his head further into the jumble of rocks, to get closer to the crack, he can JUST see the entrance to the building from here, above and to the left.

While Jarik inspects the hole, though, he hears the distinct sound of cloth fluttering in the wind, just to his right.

Jarik hmms again, "This could have possibilities… Good watchpoint for the outpost." His ears swivel, trying to track the sound and he backs away from the hole.

Immediately, Jarik finds himself staring into the empty eyesockets of a Cervani skull.

Jarik aiiieieieighs! And leaps backwards against the wall. He grips his sword tighter…

Jarik's heartbeat triples, "Who … who … what … "

The skull does not move. By the light cast by his sword, he can see a skeleton sprawled there, laying across the rubble, wearing the tattered remains of a lacy white dress.

Strips of the torn fabric flutter in the breeze that blows through the crack.

Jarik pants, "Calm down, Jarik. It's just a skeleton. Relax… Ghosts don't exist… "

Back down the corridor, there's a loud "YELP!" And then silence.

Jarik turns, "What the… ?!" He takes off running back down the corridor toward the yelp!

Back toward the bottom of the staircase, Jarik happens upon the cowering form of the big wolf, whose eyes are wide and whose ears are laid back. He whines, greenish goo oozing down his face, and clinging to the spiked club and the extinguished torch.

Jarik skids to a halt and takes a couple breaths, "What … what happened?"

The wolf just whines, shivering. Ewgh. That stuff doesn't smell very good.

Jarik kneels down, "Did you see what hit you… ?"

The wolf looks at Jarik … and at his blazing sword. His eyes go wide again. He roars, and leaps up from his position, charging up the stairs, three steps at a time! There's a sound of a hard collision with a wall … then more pounding footsteps, retreating into the darkness.

Jarik sighs, "Well, he was helpful." The fox gets back to his feet and looks around, "Well, now which way… ?"

Jarik hms, "Best not get stuck in the left passage just yet. I think I'll check the right wing now." He heads down the right corridor this time…

A few more bits of green goo drip from the walls here and there. In fact, further ahead, before the sword's light can reach it, there are faint hints of the goo … glowing a faint green in the dark.

Jarik keeps heading down the passage, "Just remember, no such thing as ghosts… "

Somewhere in the darkness, there is a sound of … laughter. It echoes strangely, as if not coming from down the corridor, but through the very walls themselves.

Some more bones lie strewn across the floor. This time, there's no accompanying skull to help identify the species with any certainty.

At least there's no breeze here – but the passage eventually comes to an abrupt halt at another cave-in. There are a few splotches of the greenish goo here and there, spattered on the rocks.

Jarik pushes on the cave-in, trying to see if he can clear a small hole to see through…

There is a small gap, but there is no light on the other side, and the best that he can see by his sword light is … more rubble, and a featureless passage that continues beyond the reach of the light, obstructed by signs of more collapsed stonework in places.

Jarik sighs, "A lot of work to do in this place. We'll have to clear this passage, too. There is the other passage, the cave in wasn't as severe … I think I'll check that first… And why am I talking to myself?"

There's that laughter again, but it quickly dies.

Jarik turns and heads back to the other cave in location. He thinks he can fit through…

Jarik shivers, "Just the wind, gotta just be the wind."

It's a small struggle, but Jarik does manage to get through the cave-in in the passage with the crack (and the Cervani doe skeleton).

Beyond the collapsed stonework, the passage continues, even more roughly-hewn, forcing the fox to duck in some places. It might not be possible to improve upon this. Faults in the stone might suggest that further excavation might not be wise.

Jarik whews, "Now I hope I can get out… " He looks at the stone, "Hm, Perhaps this wing should just be sealed off."

Perhaps it's only a trick, but the light of the blade seems to flicker for just an instant, out of the corner of the fox's eye.

Jarik blinks and looks at his sword, "This shouldn't be flickering; I power it and I don't seem to feel any weaker… I hope I was just seeing things… " He keeps moving down the passage, slowly and carefully.

Some slick-looking spots can be found on the floor and walls at odd intervals. More of that greenish goo, though perhaps congealed and dried out somewhat…

Jarik hmms, "That reminds me of Gooshurm slobber, actually. Hrm… "

As the fox continues, he can hear a trickle of running water echoing faintly through the stone walls, which become less and less cut, and more like an earthen tunnel.

Jarik lowers the energy to the sword, dimming it mildly but conserving his reserve. "Interesting, it looks like they built this place in a natural cave system… " he muses as he continues down the passage…

At last, the tunnel widens dramatically … opening into a large cavern chamber. There are many hanging stalactites and mounded stalagmites which obstruct a full view of the chamber, and hide much of it in shadow. Their slick surfaces sparkle and glisten as if moist.

Jarik shouts, "Hello… !"

Water drips in a steady staccato, answered by a chorus of echoes from about the chamber, and accompanied by a constant trickle, as a stream winds through the mineral deposits, splattering into a natural reservoir. "Hello! Hello … hello … hello… "

Jarik heads over to the stream and kneels beside it. He dips a finger in the running water and sniffs at it, "Well, we may have our own water supply. This could be very useful."

"Useful … useful … " To the left, the waterway twists and turns, descending into a slick tunnel, and probably coming out somewhere further down the mountain slope … though it would be a dangerous prospect to slide down there, not knowing whether or not one might be stuck somewhere further on, or reach a steep drop-off. The water, by all appearances, is crisp, clean mountain water.

Jarik decides not to follow the waterway. He glances around the room for any other passages…

There are several nooks and shadows which might hide passages … but it would seem that nowhere is safely accessible from here save for the shelf that Jarik stands on presently.

Jarik scoops up a handful of water and takes a sip…

The water is cool and refreshing. It would seem to be a useful source of water, certainly, especially if the tales are true that caverns tend to remain a fairly constant temperature even in winter.

Still, that "fairly constant temperature" is presently a bit on the chill side.

Jarik stands up, "Looks like it's back to the passage then. Better to have someone with me if we're to explore this cave further… "

Jarik heads back toward the passage he entered through.

The cavern echoes, "Look like it's back … back … … ", et cetera, et cetera.

The echoes are joined by a sound like that of a girl laughing … but they die away as Jarik heads on back into the passage.

Jarik stops.

*drip … drip … drip*

Jarik turns around, "Is anyone there… ?"

Jarik walks back onto the shelf.

"Is anyone there? … there? … there … "

*drip … drip … drip… *

Jarik says, "We come in peace… We mean no one harm here."

"… Harm here … harm here … harm here… "

Jarik shakes his head, "Jarik, I think you're losing your mind."

"… losing your mind … mind … mind … "

Jarik hmphs and looks around the cave, "Oh, be quiet!" He heads back towards the passage again.

The cave's echo is, of course, quite predictable. It only obeys Jarik once he's back in the passage … or that is, it says no more, other than *drip … drip … drip… *

Jarik makes his way back towards the cave-in site…

The trip back to the cave-in site is comparably uneventful. The passage is still deserted … unless one counts the former Cervani doe as company.

Jarik kneels down next to the skeleton, "I wish you would talk and tell me what happened – ah well… " He proceeds to inspect the skeleton, looking for signs of attack or injury.

The skeleton sports no obvious evidence of just how death occurred. But then, there are so many ways to die that are not told in bone. By what Jarik's knowledge of medicine can tell him – combined with a lot of guesswork of what Cervani physiology might be like on this world – it would seem the Cervani, in life, was fairly healthy, having a standard of living above the norm in this world.

Jarik gets back to his feet and heads back towards the staircase going up.

The staircase leads up and out of the tunnels. Was that a sound of laughter again? No, probably just the imagination. Something about that laughter seems to promise that it will echo in Jarik's memories and dreams for a long time to come.

Jarik looks around the passages, "I will find out where that comes from… " He sighs, "But, for now it's back up to the others." He heads up the stairs, avoiding stepping on the feline skull.