The town of Rookery is seldom anything less than gloomy, but while the frequent storms prevent the sun from smiling directly on the castle, there is a stark difference between them and the pitch that night becomes outside the window. As the purple of the muttering clouds deepen over the waning sunlight, there comes a knock at the door to Umeko's quarters.

After seeing Xander off for his preparations, Umeko has been making her own. Namely she has shed her fancy dress for simpler, and tighter, pants. Gone are the ball gown gloves as well. The only part of her dress that remains is the corset, since it is fairly snug as it is. At her side she's strapped her swords and two small bags hang opposite them on her belt. Her mane has been tightly braided to keep it from catching should she have to crawl through narrow passageways. At the knock, her ears perk slightly. "Ah, that must be my … partner. I almost feel like I am about to go on a date with Hakuu," she says, momentarily frowning. The frown is pushed away as she heads to the door and turns the latch, then eases it open.

Sure enough, the Kiriga finds a familiar stag waiting patiently at the door, his typical half-smile widening for a moment. He is dressed in his usual fashion, though gone are the more formal additions from the banquet… white breeches, white waistcoat, his swordsman's cloak thrown casually over one shoulder. Hands that were resting on the steel head of his cane are drawn up as Vandringar steps back and offers a genial bow, as if he'd merely come calling to inquire as to Umeko's health. "A fine evening to you, Lady Tsuguri," he says. With his forward hand held close, it becomes evident he did actually bring something else… a brass-fitted lantern, currently unlit.

"And the evening grows finer to be called upon by such a handsome and polite visitor," Umeko replies politely and bows to the Cervani deeply, following Jadian tradition. After rising, she slips from 'her' room and quietly closes the door behind her. Offering her arm to the stag, she asks, "Shall we discover what secrets have laid here for untold years? I believe we may learn much in Lord Rook's various private chambers, such as his study or personal library, if he had one."

The stag tucks his cane at the elbow holding his lantern, allowing him to go arm in arm with Umeko with the other. "An excellent notion, my lady. I am confident in your instincts," he replies, beginning to lead the way down the stairs from the guest chambers. In a lower voice, he adds, "I began making my way here before nightfall. The commoners have left the castle already, and the… 'guests' have all retired for the evening. Sunset should be in… " He plucks at the chain hanging from his pocket, and opens the face of a fine Chronotopian pocket watch. "… ten minutes."

Umeko's head tilts slightly so she can glance to the watch out of one eye. "Are you always so concerned with the exact timing of moments?" she asks, quiet and curious, "Or have you ever enjoyed a moment without concern for when it was?"

Umeko can see the watch face for a moment. It appears to be of the superb workmanship Chronotopia is known for, the face inked in long, austere digits, the hands slender and sure even despite Sinai's devilish tendencies where machines are concerned. It clicks shut again, the engraved golden case flashing once before the watch is dropped back into its pocket. "The people of Chronotopia have always been preoccupied with time, I suppose," Vandringar muses, looking thoughtful. "Our society is one that places a premium on order, and order requires that things be done in allowable time." At the bottom of the stairs, he halts, looking out of an arch that opens into the castle's inner courtyard, and he gestures at the darkening stones. "But my attention is a more practical one at the moment. Night is falling."

"It is not the completion of an act or the passing of time that offers wisdom but the journey taken, to quote an old Jadian poet," Umeko recites, "Or in other words, the journey is the true reward, not the destination. But … I must agree that your concern has merit. I have been giving thought to the situation at hand and I find myself curious to how the Raveness came to her state. Was it gradual, or was it a particular incident that drive her to madness and emptiness? I cannot help but wonder if the Lord Rook had returned … and in an accident of using the orb … she killed him. And in her despair, she tried to use the orb to erase the memory of it from herself and from her people. And well, left things such as they are, a world in a slow state of decay." Her own head tilts as she joins the Cervani in looking into the courtyard. "And were I a Lord of this castle, I would have made my private rooms in one of the spires, so that I may look over the lands I rule. I suggest we start with the spires."

Vandringar tilts his head to consider Umeko's theories, though he's careful not to let his antlers touch anything. "Your theory is as sound as any other we might think of, my lady. Certainly, it seems as though he almost has a… presence here." He levels his head out, taking a moment to look down at the slender Kiriga by his side. "Paintings of him and of the previous Lord Rooks, the reverent way the Raveness waits for him… his station was an important one." He steps closer to the edge of the courtyard to look up past the eves, the open area allowing a view up toward the collection of towers that forms the upper castle. "I agree with your assessment, at any rate. Korvish nobility would be inclined to roost in the highest locations."

"Much calamity occurs when one tries to control powers beyond their understanding. While her intentions were noble in a sense, a desire to protect her people … what she selected to use had a cost worse than what she fought off. There is sad irony in using a power to fight off the encroaching dead … only to place yourself and your people in an unending tomb," Umeko remarks as she continues to glance about at the eerie and somber surroundings. "As for which spire to climb, I suggest we find the one that shows the least use, for who would willingly climb the tower of their former Lord should a forgotten memory lurk in the shadows of their minds warning them away?" Her arm shifts slightly in his as she turns to look into some of the growing shadows, causing her cool fingertips to momentarily brush against the back of his hand.

The Cervani lord's hand turns to close momentarily over Umeko's. It's broad, the fingers long, and neatly manicured, and it traps some warmth around the Kiriga's smaller and more delicate hand, a thumb crossing her knuckle for a moment. "Calamity can occur, certainly. But with nothing ventured, there is nothing gained… Rookery would have stagnated and fell regardless, would it not? Another victim of the Necromancer Wars." Looking skyward, Vandringar hesitates a moment, then takes his cane in hand and uses it to point with the end. "There, that one… can you see it? Not the tallest, but partially in the clouds. There isn't much light left."

Umeko's fingers curl absently as Vandringar's fingers close around hers; the pair for a moment holding hands in a fading and dying castle. "A quick death is better than one where your very essence is slowly stripped away," she notes as she follows his cane with her eyes towards the indicated spire. At that, she nods in agreement, "That one would seem a good place to begin." Her attention returns to the courtyard before them and they flick from shadow to shadow, watching for any unnatural movement.

The courtyard is still… and deathly quiet. There is no scuff of servant's feet, no chirp of crickets, not even the skitter of vermites. The last vestiges of sunlight are gone, the shadows lengthening until the climb the walls. Vandringar lowers his cane again, hooking the ring of his lantern over it to hold it out. He opens the glass cases and triggers a striker assembly inside… after a few sparks, the lantern lights, and begins casting a warm yellow light that the castle's shadows look all too ready to swallow up. "The central spire should be toward the back of the keep, past the great hall, as I recollect."

"I trust to your memory in that respect. And I must confess I was wrong in one aspect, this place is quieter than a tomb. Even a tomb has insects," Umeko remarks a bit grimly. Her free hand curls down and her claws delicately hook onto the band of the hanging lantern. "Shall I carry the lantern? It will leave your hand free, should you find need to deal with your crystal," she asks.

The stag surrenders the lantern with a small, agreeable smile, and leads the way down one side of the courtyard toward the large vault of the feasting hall. He says nothing more for now, and for a while the only accompaniment is the soft sounds of foot and hoof step on stone, wood, and carpet. Though the keep had seemed somber before, there is no hint that it was lived in now. All the sconces are unlit, the chandeliers dark, even tapers have been snuffed out. The door to the feasting hall creaks as it opens, and the echo seems to carry for miles, reverberating through the guts of Castle Pieksvaldt.

"As the mockery of life that dwells here has withdrawn to the shadows that now comfort it, the world is shown as it truly is, a place of emptiness. A world fitting of the title Nothingness," Umeko remarks in quiet observation as she walks along with the Cervani. There's a pause, then she asks, "May I ask you an unrelated question?"

Though the castle is vast, and Vandringar seems to have some idea of the general direction to go, the darkness within the hall interior itself is almost impenetrable. The world seems almost to be reduced to the pool of light cast from the lantern in Umeko's hand. Though the stag keeps his attention focused on maintaining his sense of direction, he keeps remains attentive to Umeko as well. "Mm?" he prompts.

Umeko's attention is mainly on the shadows ahead with her eyes, and the sounds behind with her ears. So, perhaps talking is a way of keeping calm and not dwelling on what could be waiting for them. "In the Temple of Being when the orb was used on me … what did I look like? My memory is a bit hazy," she asks.

"Understandable, my lady. I imagine you were very preoccupied," murmurs the stag as the pair pass between long, empty banquet tables. Above them, presumably, is the second table area suspended by ropes, but the only way one can easily tell the size of the hall is how the Kiriga's and Cervani's words come back to them in echoes. "You took on the shape of a Naga, Lady Tsuguri, but not quite the shape we are familiar with… serpentine and graceful, to be sure, but the shape of your head was different, and you seemed to possess natural… ornamentation, I suppose? It was reminiscent of something Nagai scholars had studied and debated, in fact."

"Mm," Umeko answers and bobs her head slightly. "And something I imagine you have interest in as well. Since we find ourselves unlikely allies, I will tell you that the experience did not leave me unscathed," she comments as she pauses to shine the lamp upward to see if anything roosts in the rafters. She also pauses to draw her lips back to show the Cervani the grooved fangs that now extend from her upper maw. "The orb later stated that I was restored to ninety-nine point nine seven percent of my original pattern, whatever that may mean. Can you enlighten me?"

It's difficult to tell in the dim light, but Umeko might have seen that hint of a smile again, pulling back a bit longer, but the Cervani lord's voice is even and academic, conversational. "Indeed… that is intriguing. You are in a unique position, Lady Tsuguri. To have been touched directly by one of these artifacts is to have experienced something without parallel in all of Sinai… currently." The two adventurers have crossed the hall now, and Vandringar pauses to listen at the far door before trying the latch and speaking again. "My colleagues and I have, as I'm sure you've suspected, studied everything we could find related to these artifacts. What you and your friends possess is something that touches on the very foundations of existence itself, that of Being. It is no surprise that it has left you changed."

"I must admit that it is tempting to explore what it could have made of me, even as painful as it was," Umeko remarks in an absent and calm voice as she watches the room while Vandringar tends to the door. "But such is best left to the realms of the imagination. It is far too risky to use that device again."

Vandringar lets the door swing open. The room beyond, by the echoes, sounds as large as the feasting hall was, and the stag touches the bottom of Umeko's lantern with his cane to encourage her to hold it higher. "Ah? And what will you suppose will be done with it, my lady?"

"Of that I have no idea," Umeko answers as she raises the lantern as indicated. "Were I to guess, it would be locked away or destroyed."

The Cervani's laugh isn't loud, but it rolls through the chamber, its good-natured tone distorted by the stone walls and coming back as something sinister. Light from the lantern spills out over myriad staircases, most leading higher and all going in different directions. The wan lamplight reflects from glass panes overhead that reveal the black, brooding outlines of Castle Pieksvaldt's towers above, barely discernible from the clouds over them. "My dear Lady Tsuguri. We do not have the power to destroy such a thing. Hide it for a while, perhaps. Lock it away. But no force or magic that we could muster would so much as scratch Being, and it would emerge again."

"And that, my dear Lord Vandringar, is overconfidence speaking. Anything is possible with enough resourcefulness. What is made can always be unmade," Umeko remarks, though not in an unkind tone and certainly showing no signs of being bothered by his laughter. As she looks out over the stairs, pondering which may lead to the tower they seek, she asks him, "What would you do with Being?"

"It is true, my lady, anything that can be made can be unmade. The distinction is on who made it. Nothing that lives on Sinai now, nor its father, nor any generation before it is older than these artifacts. They who made them possessed knowledge wholly unimaginable to us… and there are many who have tried to imagine." The stag selects a staircase, and climbs a few steps, though more to get a better vantage than to make any choice. "What would I do with Being? Ah, my lady, what wouldn't I do? I would invite you to bear witness by delivering it to me, but I believe you are not ready to do such a thing."

"And do you believe that some day I will?" Umeko inquires as she selects a different staircase and ascends it a few steps to try and get a look as well.

Vandringar listens at a door quietly for a moment, then steps away from it. "It would delight me if you did. Perhaps you will learn more and come to different conclusions. What is the fraction you know so far, Lady Tsuguri? You know they are powerful. You know they are old. You know that there are those willing to disrupt thousands of lives for them. But what else?"

"Little, outside of what Anisa could tell me," Umeko answers a bit vaguely as she sees of the stairs she's on leads to a door she could check. She does glance back towards Vandringer and flash him a small playful smile, adding, "Is this where you will try to tempt me with information to sway me to your side, Lord Vandringar? Be warned, I am not easily swayed or bought."

The stag spryly strides up another flight, and pauses at the door to listen there for a good ten seconds or so before coming back down. "I would not insult your intelligence so, my lady. It is only natural for you to suspect me, and to think I could simply tell you what to believe without you seeing something for proof would be a disservice to you. No, I expect you will prefer to see for yourself what these artifacts unlock… and I expect you will not be content to simply ignore me as I unlock them either."

It's Umeko's turn to chuckle softly at Vandringar's reply. "Only time will answer that, Lord Vandringar. And … I must apologize, but your watch will not be able to tell you the hour when you will have the answer," she says as she descends her staircase and is simply content to wait for him to select a door, so instead uses the lantern to look more around the room for anything that stands out. "And something else we should consider, Lord Rook's private chambers may be behind hidden passageways."

"Perhaps, but I think… " The stag stops, freezing with his ear to yet another door. He pauses, listening carefully, then crooks his finger to beckon his companion up without leaving where he is.

Umeko ascends the staircase, her toe claws nary making a noise.

Vandringar reaches out to lay his hand on Umeko's shoulder, drawing her a little closer, then quietly tapping a finger against the door.

Umeko leans in and presses one of her webbed ears against the door.

This close, the Kiriga can hear something through the thick wood. The familiar clack of chitin on chitin, blade on blade on armor, the low, dull roar of men shouting at each other, plus the gravel of the typical Korv voice, and then muddied together by the confusion of all of them shouting different things at once.

Umeko's brow ridge furrows curiously. "A battle? An echo of one fought in the swamps, perhaps?" the Kiriga wonders as she listens. Her eyes flick downward, looking for a keyhole.

The door's latch is a plain lever, it lacks a lock.

"Perhaps? It's clear we're closer to… something," murmurs the stag quietly.

"Nothing ventured, nothing gained, he said," Umeko thinks. So, the Kiriga takes a hold of the latch and very gently turns it, trying to slowly open it and peer through the crack.

The door swings open an inch or so. Beyond, nothing but darkness except for the sliver of light on stone floor cast through by the lantern. It's quiet now.

Umeko opens the door the rest of the way and shines the lantern through. "Most curious," she comments quietly.

The door swings open the rest of the way, revealing a largely empty corridor. Nothing beyond it suggests there should be anything like a battle being waged down it. The light of the swinging lantern plays on unadorned stone walls and an uncarpetted floor… then flickers. It sputters fitfully, then returns to a steady burn, but dimmer than before. With the lantern held up, Umeko realizes she can see her breath now in small clouds. A chill has encroached on the antechamber.

"I think we now walk in the halls of the dead. The chill of longing permeates this place, the desire to take the warmth of the life that was and embrace it, if only for a short time. May our ancestors ensure we do not join them," Umeko says softly back to her current Cervani 'ally'. Her hand draws up and her fingers curl for him to follow before the Kiriga slides through the open doorway in a winding, almost serpentine, fashion. She holds her lantern high, trying to illuminate the corridor.

The stag glances back the way they came, and nods agreement, following closely. "Worse yet, I think the lady of the castle approaches. I believe my stone would offer her some pause, but no point in testing the theory, hmm?" He shuts the door behind, leaving himself and Umeko in the long, narrow corridor, smooth brickwork stretching away from the glow of the lantern and into darkness.

"Indeed, I would prefer not dying tonight," Umeko notes in whisper. Her ears flick forward and her eyes dart around. The Kiriga leans forward as she extends her tail out behind herself to balance her long body lengthwise so she appears lower to the floor. With undulating movement, the Kiriga then heads down the hallway, her toe claws making slight clicks on the stone beneath them. "Promise me something," she says as she briefly glances back to the Cervani.

Vandringar lifts an ear. "Yes?"

"Should we find ourselves cornered by that creature; I would prefer to die on a foe's sword over being torn apart. Simply put, temporary alliances aside … if it comes to it I would rather you kill me than her. It is more honorable," Umeko says, "Though I will endeavor that it never need be done."

The Cervani seems to consider this a moment, then nods once. "Should it come to it, you have my word, my lady. Swift and clean."

Umeko nods, her attention quickly returning to the path ahead. Onward she goes into the cold darkness.

The passage eventually widens out, and gets higher. The air begins to smell different here… cold and bracing, a different kind of chill than the dreadful one that crept over the antechamber behind the door. It smells of rain… and feels of it too, when a cold droplet splashes across Umeko's snout. The lantern light shines above to reveal breaks in the rock. The passage looks less well tended the further down it she goes.

"I do not care for this," Umeko whispers, "The cold will eventually cause my body problems." A graceful roll of her hand flicks the beading water from the bridge of her snout. Her pace forward also slows, her attention shifting to examining the walls as she goes, looking for possible clues as to where this may lead.

The walls are in an increasingly sad state of disrepair. Nothing on them gives clues to where this might be leading, but that in itself is curious… there are alcoves and niches like any of the other portions of the castle, but they're empty of adornment, where art objects or candelabras would normally stand. Even the sconces are empty… they don't contain burnt-out torches, rather they've got nothing in them at all. Ahead, there's some light flickering, the first Umeko has seen that wasn't from her own lantern. It's fitful and pale across the floor, accompanied by rumbles of thunder.

Umeko halts momentarily as her head twists and tilts in almost disturbing ways to look at the light ahead. "Do you know if the Lord of this castle kept a wing for himself?" she asks of her companion. "I cannot yet fathom why this would be so empty unless some ancient order forbid the residents from coming here … and that makes me wonder if it was not closed out of grief for the loss of whom once dwelt here."

The Cervani lord lowers his head near Umeko's to keep his voice to a murmur when he replies. "I should think he would. The Lord Rook would have had private chambers shared with the Raveness, but I think he would also have had his own den. Whether that place is here, I can't guess. What you say makes sense… with everything gone, it does seem as though this section was ordered abandoned." As Umeko looks at the light ahead out of first one eye and then the other, it seems to come from above, and splashes across bare stone and something sparkling on the floor.

"Does your stone tell you anything?" Umeko asks as she results a slink towards the lit spot ahead. She also lets out a long breath and pauses to watch the condensing mist to see if it flows in any particular direction.

Kin's breath doesn't fog as much here as it did back in the antechamber… the chill here seems less biting and more plain wet. The Kiriga can feel her foot set in a puddle as she creeps forward, and more water drips from breaks in the ceiling, as if the storm were wiggling its fingers through them trying to get in. Closer, Kin can see that flashes of lightning are illuminating the floor, patters of rain dancing on wet stone amidst shards of glass and some chunks of stone.

Vandringar feels at his chest. "No, my lady. The stone is quiet."

"It appears to be just glass," Umeko whispers, "But little here is what it appears." She moves slowly as she approaches the broken glass, her eyes and ears constantly darting about. "Now is this shards of a window that once told a story?" she wonders.

"They could well be, my lady," says Vandringar as the pair step closer and find themselves entering a wider room, what might have been a sitting room. Above, rain sprinkles through broken skylights, some of the panes still in place, some smashed with jagged glass around the edges. Stretching up and away over the skylight can be seen the tower the presides over this antechamber, the top of it lost in dense clouds. Flashes of lightning occasionally pick out gaps in it… from small breaks in the brickwork to gaping holes where pieces mortar deteriorated and slid away. Much of the rest is overgrown with vines.

Umeko picks up one of the shards and turns it over between her fingers. "A window. A portal to another world as some poets say. A chance to see life in action beyond the stone barriers. A silly notion, life is best experienced, not watched," she comments to herself, the gently places the piece back on the floor. Her hand rolls to flick a bit of wet mane from her eyes; the Kiriga feeling considerably 'soggy' now from the rain that as seeped through the broke roof above. Before moving further, the Kiriga now circles the room, looking for any decor that may have been left behind to hint at the room's purpose.

The only decoration seems to consist of the glass sparkling on the floor, and what fairly mundane ornamentation was carved into the double doors on the other end of the chamber. One hangs off its hinges, the other stands open, and both look neglected. The rest of the place is picked bare. In a castle that time forgot, it would seem the castle itself has forgotten this piece of itself.

"Do you know what this place makes me think?" Umeko whispers into Vandringar's ear when she slinks up next to him.

The stag squints up through the skylight at the tower beyond. He doesn't look back down when Umeko speaks, but his ear lifts to indicate he's listening. "Hm?"

"This place," Umeko says and gestures with her hand, "Is the true castle. The people back there, all the finery, are illusion; a desperation to cling to what was, instead of what is." She then pauses to look upward at the tower, then asks, "Did you see something?"

"Movement, I thought. I can't be sure, it's too difficult to see through the storm," says Vandringar, expression thoughtful. He looks down again at his companion, his face serious. "Even if I imagined it, it looks dangerous in the condition it's in. What do you think? If this is the 'real' castle, do you suppose there might be something important in this tower? It must have been undisturbed for some time.""

"A place forgotten often holds many secrets. I am sure that is something you have learned in your … researches. And as I am sure you also know, there is only one way to know for certain," Umeko says as she lightly draws her claws along the Cervani's back as she steps towards the door leading to the tower as a gesture for him to follow. "We must climb it and search out its secrets. What is the difference to being torn apart by a monster over crushed by a falling tower? It is the difference between simply existing and living; watching the world or participating in it. I choose to participate; greater danger … but also greater rewards. Come or stay as you like." The Kiriga then looks over her shoulder, her own sly smile playing upon her lips and a glint in her eyes, she adds, "I can guess your choice, Milord. You cannot abide a mystery and you will follow."

The Cervani allows a smile, seeming good-natured on his handsome face, if only a touch wry. "Gracious, am I so predictable, my lady? But you speak the truth. We should mind our step either way." He moves to follow Umeko as she approaches the door.

"In certain actions any of us are. For you, I think … part of you must know. It drives you on and to accept costs others would not," Umeko answers as her head rolls back around and she continues forward, her pace slow and cautious. As she passes through the doorway, each footstep is tested before she commits all her weight to it now. "Such conviction can serve you well … though it may not always serve your allies well."

The stag starts to reply, but stops suddenly as the pair enter the tower. It's better lit in here, if only from the near constant lightning flashing outside, shining through the holes in the broken walls. Naked support columns jut through broken and rotted wooden floors. The base of the tower is broad, but in such shambles that Umeko can see to the other side through fallen inner walls and collapsed archways, the floor littered with pieces of rock and chunks of decayed mortar. None of the dilapidation is what gives Vandringar pause. Rather, it's a figure ahead. A Korv. He's faced away, head quirking this way and that as if looking for something, listening for something. Worn over his back is the livery of House Pieksvaldt, but stained and muddy, and partially over pieces of armor. He appears to be a houseman, but dressed for war.

Umeko raises her hand as if to indicate to Vandringar that she will approach. Her steps are slow and careful as she makes her way slowly through the rubble towards the Korv dressed for war. She doesn't speak yet, but instead tilts her head and exhales slightly, looking for the telltale mist that seems to accompany the chill formed by a ghost.

The noblewoman moves with a sure-footed grace, but it would take a skilled sneak to cross the broken stone noiselessly. The faint crunch of gravel and grit underfoot makes the Korv's head lift. He turns around and stares at Umeko… or rather, he seems to stare THROUGH her, gaze both directed at her and still seeming far away. His tunic is stained with blood, and his feathers are tattered… if as much of that encrusted blood is his as it looks like, he shouldn't be standing, but he is. Not only is he standing, but his hand immediately goes to the sword at his side, drawing it, and beginning to approach. His voice is low when he speaks, a croak. "Traitor."

Umeko draws up and stops, her breathing measured and calm. "I am no traitor to you," she says softly, her own hand sliding down to Sunlight-Through-Storm and curling around its hilt. "Who is this traitor you speak of? What happened?" she asks as her own blade slides from its scabbard; the metal glinting in the flashes of lightning.

"You won't have it, oathbreaker!" shouts the Korv, juddering into a run, his armor clattering as it rises and falls on his bony frame. He raises his sword to bring its chitin blade down in an arc at the Kiriga!

Umeko's own blade glides the remaining way from its scabbard in a graceful arc as she steps back and brings it to bear to defend herself. She bears this creature no malice; but she has little choice.

Umeko's blade flashes as she deflects a few blows, her eyes appraising her opponent speed and skill. She quickly realizes he isn't a significant threat … nor does she wish to harm this poor creature without true reason. The next few seconds are a whirl of golden scales and flashing steel. Her blade whips like the wind in a fierce storm and the Korv fast finds his blade thrown this way and that as it glides in, kicking and whipping it up and outward. she ducks in low next, her sword rolling over so that the unsharpened side is brought to bear. It cracks down on the backs of his talons, weakening his grip but not doing any significant injury other than the sting … and no sooner has it hit hand its brought up, catching the cross-guard to knock it free.

Likely a rank and file fighter, the houseman is no match… though he attacks with fervor behind his swordsmanship, mere competence isn't enough in the face of Umeko's superior skill. Ting-tang! The flat of Sunlight Through Storm crosses his swordhand and lifts his weapon away by its crosspiece… and no sooner does that happen than the Korv seems to evaporate, like a gust through mist. The Korv is in mid-curse, a look of surprise on his face when he sudden seems to cease to be. Even his sword, falling to the floor, dissolves before it can land.

A second later, Vandringar has arrived, his cane gripped securely under the steel does' head. He looks around quickly, eyes narrowed.

Umeko … frowns. Its funny how well the Kiriga face is built for that, really. Her blade twirls up and with a swipe, she wipes any water from its blade on her pant leg, then slides the sword into its scabbard. "I was hoping to question the specter," she remarks to Vandringar, her hand still resting on the hilt of her blade, in case others show. "It makes me wonder, though, if they were not betrayed in the past by someone."

The Cervani squints up at the guts of the ruined tower above, and his ears quirk. Soon, Umeko can hear it too… first the flap of wings, and then the drum of running, taloned footsteps… paired this time.

"Perhaps these chaps will be more forthcoming," Vandringar says. He doesn't sound especially convinced.

Umeko draws her long blade once more. "Fight them, or retreat?" she asks her companion simply.

"There's definitely something here," the stag says, closing his free hand around the steel does' head. "I'd be inclined to see what it is, even if going back down that corridor didn't mean risking Her Grace." Two Korv soon hurry into sight, dressed much like the first. One has many of his ribs caved in along his left side, but he carries his halberd as if he didn't notice. The other has a sword much like the first, a with his armor peeled away from long gashes over his chest, as if from claws. He takes no notice of his wounds either, and he rasps, "No quarter!" Neither Korv even hesitate, both charging at once.

"These were betrayed by the shifted Murder," Umeko observes quickly, her eyes flicking in particular to the claw marks. This time, instead of waiting for them to come, Umeko moves forward to meet them in combat.

"At your side, my lady," says Vandringar, trotting forward to keep pace. He presents his side, and Umeko can see something of a classical bearing in his stance, but there's something very unorthodox as well… the use of his cane, for one thing.

Umeko meets the Korv midway, though with her concerns of the footing, he has the upper hand. Blades flash briefly as Umeko deflects the incoming sword with ease. She coils back like a serpent, then strikes forward, following the deflected blade with her own. It slips in under the Korv's wing, then presses against his side. The blade is then snapped back; the Kiriga hoping to cut deep into flesh and bone as it draws away.

The sword passes through with little resistance, Sunlight's blade flashing. The swordsbird looks stricken for the split second the blade touches him, and as before he seems to dissipate like fog at dawn, a swirl of his form chasing Umeko's blade up in curls as it swings free and then quickly fading to nothingness. Vandringar seems to get similar results… he and the halberdier square off for a few seconds, watching each other from either end of the polearm. The Korv shifts once, and Vandringar darts past the chitin axehead. A flash of steel, and the halberdier stumbles backward, discorporating.

"They either fall easily, or we make a formidable team," Umeko comments to her companion. "The mere act of their attack is telling. It makes me wonder if this portion of the fortress was part of a great battle … perhaps the Murder itself betrayed the Lord Rook and killed his personal guard. It doesn't quite explain the mud, but … it would explain why it was abandoned. Terrible memories." She looks up the stairs, listening for more.

Nothing comes just yet, though the Cervani lord doesn't look inclined to relax. "We are a formidable team, my lady, make no mistake. Your theory sounds plausible… I don't know who else they would have called traitor or oathbreaker. They looked girded for the field of battle, not the kind of thing you'd wear in the keep. Simple fighting men, the kind that would fill out a host. Notice they attack us with weapons, not trying to savage us as beasts."

"Perhaps more will be revealed the higher we go. This is most curious; and telling that all the stories of this place left out aspects of what happened. I do not believe he fell in battle with the undead," Umeko says, this time keeping her sword drawn. "So … shall we?" She nods towards the damaged stairs.

The ruined stairs are little better than a pile of uneven rubble, but neither stag or Kiriga waste time climbing them. Rising past some of the debris, it's easier to see the state this tower is in, its decay greater than even time's toll should have taken. Chunks of masonry have fallen away from parts of the circular walls, and the timbers that form the floors are rotted, uneven, swollen with damp in places and just broken or missing in others. The walls of the tower look to be doubled, because sections that have fallen away reveal where dumb waiters like the ones that had been used to deliver Umeko's bathwater had been concealed. Tough lengths of rope, despite fraying, dangle loose where they used to be hidden by the shafts. In spite of the neglect, Umeko and Vandringar find themselves with company…

A Korv carrying a sword turns and spies the pair. He looks familiar, but there's no light of recognition in his eyes. He is dressed in the stained livery of House Pieksvaldt, mud and blood encrusting it, and in his hand a sword is tightly gripped. The soldier from only a moment ago croaks, "Traitor," and advances purposefully on the two. Further away, through a broken arch, emerges a halberdier with his ribs crushed inward, followed by another swordsman with deep gashes over his chest. All familiar. "Assassins! Oathbreakers!"

"This is getting repetitive," Umeko mutters to her companion. She steps forward, both blades drawn. "Begone phantoms, or face the touch of death once more," she tells the, and her expression holds resolute. "Or at the very least tell us what we betrayed."

"This field will be your grave, kinslayer," spits the halberdier, who raises his polearm to strike. The first swordsman moves to flank Umeko while the other engages Vandringar. The stag begins to comment, only to have ANOTHER soldier charge up the stairs at him! The same stairs that carried Umeko up here.

"And who of the kin do you claim I have slayed? How do I know that you are not the one who have betrayed our Murder?" Umeko asks the attacker, hoping to prod more information from him.

Though both Korv try to attack at the same times, varying their jabs and swings between themselves, Umeko's defense is simply too strong. Though she can barely feel the impacts, halberd and sword are turned away no matter which angle they come in from.

Umeko's follow-up movements are swift and deadly, her movement flowing and alien; betraying strange viper from which her origins lie. With a flash like lightning, the two Korvs find their fate soon enough and once more leave this world. "As simple as they are, if this continues the sheer repetition will eventually exhaust us. I wish they would say more on who betrayed and who was slain," the Kiriga notes.

A few seconds pass, and both Korv dissipate like clouds of dark smoke in a strong gust, one of them too surprised to cry out before the graceful edge of Sunlight Through Storm bites through him. Vandringar's style is considerably more orthodox compared to Umeko's, but neither of his foes are prepared for his precision or speed, and they soon fade as well, the stag's blade sliding neatly back into its black cane scabbard with a click. This time, however, there's no moment of quiet. Already, rapid footsteps and wing beats can be heard below, and through a hole in the floor, Umeko can see a stream of housemen charging up the spiral staircase.

"I think we had best ascend quickly, we have a platoon on our heels," Umeko remarks to Vandringar in a calm, rather matter-of-factly tone. Swords still drawn, the young noblewoman ascends the tower. Perhaps even ghosts will honor a door, after all.

The stag's hooves clack on the stone as he briskly steps along with Umeko, tossing a glance over his shoulder. "A wise choice, methinks." Hurrying to the stairs up, it takes a few long bounds to actually get over gaps, and Umeko discovers the tower to be in even worse shape with each floor she climbs. Footsteps are mingled with shouts, the cacophony of a battlefield, confused cries and the crash of wood, chitin and bodies making a constant din. No door looks sturdy enough to remain closed, much less hold off the specters, and they remain in pursuit.

"One must give them credit, they are persistent, even if lacking in effective tactics and training," Umeko comments as she too glances over her shoulders as she continues the ascent. "I feel as if we are being forced towards our inevitable destiny somewhere above, in the forgotten decay of this tower. I also wonder if we will meet the true betrayers on the way."

"Whatever may be, we seem to be committed to it… " says Vandringer. He stops abruptly, both his words and his run, skidding to a halt at a yawning hole in the floor. Pebbles trickle over the edge, and below can be seen the stream of Korv soldiers giving chase. The ones that aren't immediately on Umeko's heels, at least. It looks like much of this floor slid right off the side of the tower, the floor above collapsed, a yawning hole in the wall, and with dumb waiter ropes dangling past… at least the ones that aren't snapped.

Umeko's blades disappear into their scabbards as she draws to a halt behind Vandringar. She looks down to the pursing ghosts, then to the dangling ropes. "It appears we have only one more way to go. So … shall we climb?" she asks as she reaches out and takes a rope to rest how secure it is.

A jerk of the rope makes it creak, but it seems sturdy enough, all things considered. The nobleman starts to answer, but a stream of Korv bottlenecked at the stairs gets his attention, and as they bring their weapons to bear on him, he cuts it short to, "You first, milady!"

"Do not linger," Umeko tells the Cervani as she takes a firm grip on the rope, then up she goes!

Streams of dust pour down the rope and sting Umeko's eyes, but actually climbing isn't difficult, and the agile Kiriga makes good speed. A look down finds the stag fending off a number of the soldiers while more clamor to get past, shouts of anger ringing from the walls. When Umeko gets to the top, she's greeted by a jammed pulley wedged into some chunks of crumbled stone, rendering it forever inoperable, though it seems unlikely room service will be called for here again. There's little respite here, however… more stairs are waiting for her, and Korv are already coming down them, covered in wounds, muddy armor, and with a determined look in their eyes. "Die, traitor!"

The floor here is half cracked away, and rain blows through a window… as well as mist, as if Umeko is already at cloud level.

Umeko sighs softly as she swings herself onto the stairs and readies for more combat. "I am no traitor," she says as her blades are once more drawn from their scabbards. "You are the traitors," she claims, apparently still trying to get them to reveal who betrayed them, and how.

If the specters even hear her, they make no indication, simply viciously swinging. The first among them, much of his beak broken off, wears a sash over his mud-caked tabard, and moves with a certain confidence that belies a veteran. Behind Umeko, the rope creaks and strains, then rubs along the edge of the yawning crevasse.

"Mmm, you much be the leader," Umeko notes, her finned ears flicking back and she hopes that is Vandringar climbing. She moves forward, engaging her new opponents.

The Korv wearing the sash is considerably more skilled than his comrades, and even with Umeko's grace and skill, he parries several blows and forces the Kiriga to pay attention less she let a ghostly chitin blade through the steel she weaves, but even this veteran fighter can't keep up. Catching Sunlight with the bell of his saber hard enough to push it back leaves him open for Grey Cloud, the other two Korv quickly darting into try to take advantage of what looks like an opening of their own.

With the sergeant-at-arms down Umeko takes no time to celebrate. She moves in close to the other two. At this range, they find it incredibly difficult to engage her effectively with their longer weapons. Her expression is stone cold, emotionless, as she slides spins once, then ducks; leaving the two foot-soldiers with their pikes caught up with each other and currently unable to directly threaten her. The reptile then slinks back and readies herself, preparing to deal more death-blows to her opponents.

A spectral pike catches on the stone floor as Umeko bats the piercing head down, snagging as if it were real wood and chitin, and it's wedged firmly enough there that the other pikeman stumbles over it. Soon both pikemen are tangled together, while a third tries to shoulder around them to the attack, more in the line behind him. It buys enough time that Umeko can afford to see where Vandringar's shout is coming from… oddly, no longer from below. It sounds like it came from out the window!

"Vandringar, do you need aid?" Umeko calls out as her eyes remain on the opponents before her. She also decides to not allow the pikemen more time, instead she attacks.

And it's not even a sporting chance. Umeko's blades meet spectral flesh, cutting through it as if it were nothing. The two specters disintegrate underneath her onslaught.

There's little the two soldiers can do to bring their weapons to bear for defense, and soon they drift away as dark vapor like the leader. Even as efficiently as Umeko dispatches them, the Korv beyond don't seem to be given pause, single-minded in their determination. All around, the noise seems to become more intense. "The Gear crush you for your faithlessness, scum!" "Dagh take you!" "Where are they?! "Here, here!" "The northern flank is collapsed!" "To me, kinsmen! To me!" "Defend the Lord!" "Rally to the eastern line!" "All is lost!" "Hold the line, damn you!"

There's fluttering from below. Korv are actually flying up toward the break in the floor now. Vandringar's voice cuts through the others, his voice bassy through the harsh calls of the birds. "Yes, milady!" It's from outside again, and there's the sound of rustling, like leaves on leaves, plus the creak of ropes again.

Umeko retreats to broken window and peers out quickly, trying to locate Vandringar, so she can figure out how to help him.

The Kiriga gets a faceful of cold rain when she looks out the window. The storm rages outside, and sticking one's head out makes the tower sides look like a vast plain of slick stone masonry riddled with gouges and holes, much of it choked with thick ivy. It's evident that in all the rush, Umeko has come quite far up the tower, the broken skylights of the foyer below difficult to see in the dark. Vandringar isn't immediately apparent… until he steps over Umeko's head. He clings to a new rope in one hand affixed to some higher point in the ruined tower, the scabbard of his cane tucked into his belt, his free hand clutching his sword. His hooves are braced against the wall, the Cervani 'walking' along it as best he can while angry ghosts dart and dive at him, harassing.

"Get in here before you fall," Umeko shouts up at him as she deftly sheaths one of her swords and then extends one arm upward to pat his leg. "I'll defend you, but we have little time!"

The nobleman glances up, then down again at Umeko when she catches his attention, and he nods once or twice, swiping at a Korv to ward the attacker away. With a jump away from the tower, he loosens his grip on the rope and swings down through the window, his hoofs clattering on what little stone floor remains there. Korv quickly occupy the rest of it, surrounding both of the living.

"Lord Vandringar," Umeko says as her head snakes and cranes as she looks in the way they came, then in the way yet to go. "A suggestion. Did you see a place you could defend indefinitely by yourself? Or do you believe you can descend the tower safely and lead them away? I believe I can take a safer route though the walls by climbing the old dumbwaiter lines. I do not believe such a path is open to you. If one of us can reach the peak, this will not have been wasted effort."

The Cervani casts a glance up through the ruined tower, then at the crumbling walls, a speculatively look on his face. "It could be our best bet, my lady." He points to the floor above, where Umeko can see some of the chamber through the broken ceiling, then slaps one of his broad shoulders. "Spring off me if you think you can jump high enough with a boost, and I'll lead our foes on the chase!" Vandringar advances again, the surrounding Korv unwilling to wait for long before they press the attack, and the stag bends his knees in a lower stance than before, almost crouching as he begins parrying and striking again.

Umeko's blades flash, then disappear into their scabbards. "Do not die," she tells the Cervani as she looks at him appraisingly, then half-smiles, "I would prefer that the contest end between us, or between you and Anisa, more directly." She glances up, to the wall, to Vandringar's shoulders, then back to the wall. "Brace yourself, I will vault from wall, to your shoulders, to wall again, as I ascend. I should be able to get enough purchase with my toe claws to gain extra height from the wall once I leave your shoulders."

Vandringar looks like he might reply, but he whatever he was going to say is cut short as he concentrates on fending off the ghostly Pieksvaldt kinsmen. He nods once, quickly, spins to deflect the head of a spear, and locks swords with a Korv that looks very much like the same sergeant-at-arms Umeko dealt with only seconds ago. It's now or never.

Umeko can give thanks to the dance lessons she was forced to take; it makes figuring out the jump a simple matter. However, the noise of the fight around her causes … complications. Umeko does a short dash towards the wall, jumps, and rebounds off it. As she's now heading to land and lift off Vandringar's shoulders, she realized she jumped a bit too hard thanks to the chaos and may collide with him instead of rebounding. But … the skill of her companion is impressive. He sees the incoming Kiriga and adjusts himself, crouching and bracing his position by using his foe's own strength. As Umeko's toes alight upon his shoulders he presses back and up, redirecting the young woman upward and back towards the wall. Her toe claws catch into the crumbling mortar and once more the Kiriga vaults away. She sails upward and her finger-talons catch the opening above. Her momentum is such that it's only through the exertion of a bit more force and she sails up through the hole and onto the next floor.

"Be safe, Lord Vandringar, so we may defeat you later!" the Kiriga calls back in an almost joking and friendly tone.

"Be swift, my lady!" the stag calls back. If Umeko peeks down through the hole in the floor, she can just catch the flutter of Vandringar's swordsman's cloak fluttering as he bulls his way through some of his spectral adversaries, leaping from the platform to grab onto one of the tower's dangling ropes. Black feathered shapes seethe after him, their harsh cries echoing. Umeko finds herself in a small room, what might have been a servant's chamber before it was stripped bare, and ghostly housemen dash past the broken door, not yet bothering to look in.

Umeko's small body presses up against the broken wall. Her eyes and head flick about as she searches out for another of the decaying dumbwaiter shafts. "Must move fast and out of view," the Kiriga thinks to herself. "A great secret must be above if the memories of this place protect it so."

Sure enough, an open alcove yawns in the wall. Shards of rotten timber litter the floor around it, and frayed rope dangles inside like the uvula to a stonework mouth. It doesn't look inviting, but it's big enough for Umeko to squeeze into.

"Into the maw of sorrow, the decayed throat of a dying creature that yet clings to this world, refusing to release its talons," Umeko waxes poetic as she slinks to the decayed passageway. There the Kiriga tests the rope and checks the passage width. She finds herself thankful for its narrowness, for she can use her legs to brace herself as she climbs and spare the rope the brunt of her weight. And so … up the 'throat' she goes.

It's cramped and dirty, but Umeko's lithe body lets her wriggle her way up the dumb waiter and even squeeze around points where chunks of broken stone half-block the shaft. Every so often she finds a part decayed enough that lets her peek out… the spectral Murder are thick up here, rushing down stairs and through halls in a perpetual battle, the din of their arms and armor a constant roar. The wind has picked up… it howls and moans through the gaps in the tower. If Umeko looks up she can see a brighter spot ahead, occasionally flickering… lightning. She can see the sky.

The girl is used to being dirty, much to the dismay of her parents. More than once was she chastised for climbing under their home on Jadai, or slinking around damp corridors to spy on guards in training. So, up she goes. When the breaches in the wall occur, there she lingers, looking through and trying to understand who their enemies were and if there truly was a traitor here. "This place," she thinks, "it tries to offer a vision of beauty to mask the perpetual torment it feels."

The vision offered by the approaching mouth of the tunnel is indeed oddly beautiful, swirling clouds above lit by frequent forks of lightning that bathe the sky in purplish light, but it's not much comfort. Raindrops patter down into Umeko's mane, and she can see dark avian shapes circling distantly in the sky, though they're likely too far away to see her, if they 'see' at all. Reaching the top, the Kiriga can see out into the last few floors of the tower, if they can be called that… really just a skeleton with stone 'flesh' clinging to the ribs of its supports. There isn't even pretense of stairs here anymore… just broken beams tangled over piles of mortar that rise up toward a flat section still clinging near the pinnacle. Around Umeko, the floor is broken enough to see down into the guts of the tower.

Umeko braces herself, then draws up some of the tattered line. She cinches it around her waist as best she can as a makeshift safety line should the unstable tower betray her. Her hands flick up and she slicks back her mane. "Almost there," she thinks as she tries to ease herself out onto the rubble and make her way to the final platform. As she goes, her looks down through the holes in the floor. "Tell me your sorrows so that I may tell the world. Show me the pain that must be mended," she murmurs to the ruins. "Show me your secrets."

When Umeko hoists herself up onto the platform, the wind catches her full, the Kiriga exposed to the full fury of it. It tears at her clothing and mane angrily, as if possessed of the fury of the Korv themselves, but can't dislodge her from her perch. The ruins moan back at Umeko with the gale, but can't drown out the yells and groans of battle that seem to ring all around her. Voices are carried through it. "Blackguards, betrayers!" "Assassins!" "Protect the Lord Rook!" "Hold the undead back!" "Traitors in our midst, don't let them through!" "Defend the Lord!" "Fall back and defend him!" "Defend him!!" "DEFEND HIM!!"

There's only one way to go from here.

Umeko's webbed ears flatten back. "Defend him," she tells herself. "Perhaps I can halt this circle if I defend him." The Kiriga's eyes narrow to slits as her fingers and toes flex and scrape her sharp talons on the stone. "Up," she tells herself … and begins the dangerous ascent.

The dumb waiter afforded the cover Umeko needed, but up here she's exposed. As she begins climbing, the cries from below become more frantic, and she can see desperate Korv charging up from the floors below, black shapes boiling out of the tower… it must truly have been a lord's host, trailing the banners of Pieksvaldt. Umeko is going to have to hurry… provided there's anything waiting for her at the top after all.

Umeko remains focused; she tries to not allow the mad cries below distract her so that she looses her footing. Still, it doesn't mean she won't try to go faster, she just won't allow herself to be pushed into doing something reckless. "It is time for you to shine, Sunlight Through Storm," the Kiriga tells the sword at her side. "Time to rend this never-ending sorrow."

Higher, higher. They're catching up. Umeko finds her route to go as far as it can, and she's forced to leap across to another beam to continue her ascent. Masonry that had been undisturbed for some time crumbles as new weight is put on it, pieces becoming an avalanche of stonework below, but by the time a section gives way, the Kiriga has moved on. Higher, higher. They'll be on her soon, in only a few more seconds… she can hear their cries of anger, the beat of their wings, the clash of their weapons. The wind threatens to tear her from the pinnacle as she climbs over it and finds herself standing on a section of flooring not much larger than a pair of double doors. The only thing here besides herself is a sword sheltered by a broken column… a plain looking weapon, ironwood edged with chitin, the blade chipped in places and the crosspiece bearing the Pieksvaldt coat of arms. There are dark stains along the blade. The spectral Murder will be upon Umeko in a few seconds.

"A blade of the former lord," Umeko says softly, "Or one that felled him." Some part of her feels that this must be the key to part of the mystery and so the Kiriga darts towards it and her hand sweeps out to pick up the battered weapon by its hilt.

A golden hand closes around the rain-chilled hilt of the sword, and nearly the instant she does so, the voices quiet… a split second of echo and then nothing. The wind dies away, no longer the furious beast it was clawing at Umeko, but now just the cutting breeze of her altitude under the stormclouds. The ruins below look emptier than they ever did before.

Umeko lifts the strange blade as he holds it almost reverently. "The blade is the extension of a warrior's soul," the Kiriga murmurs to herself as her eyes flow along the blade. Not only does she seek its secrets with sight but her fingertips of her left hand gently slide along its flat, feeling out each imperfection. "What soul did you once protect? Were you reclaimed from the battlefield, the only remains of the lord?"

The weapon is mute, but stains on the blade speak of its use, the tip and first few inches dark and streaked further down, soaked in and clinging with the permanence of a tattoo on skin. The chitin edges are notched here and there, and the ironwood somewhat splintered along the flats despite the treatment that hardens it. It's a sturdy and competently made weapon, but seems more akin to the arms of a footman rather than a lord.

"I shall call you, Lordslayer, the blade that cursed a barony," Umeko tells the worn blade. She tucks it carefully into her belt-sash, then crouches down at the spot she found so that she can search. "Why would one of his own turn on him? Was it the curse of the beast, or something more?" she wonders.

There seems to be little else on the stone, just a relatively dry part that the blade had rested in, sheltered by the abutment. Below, the castle sprawls out, forests of towers looking on like a quiet audience. They offer no other answers.

"Come, then, let us see if my … ally, survived," Umeko tells the new sword at her side. Before she heads down, she does one final search of this abandoned fragment. It took so much to reach here, leaving something behind would be a fool's mistake.

The lady of Jadai is no fool, it seems… she leaves only broken masonry and the storm.

There's a lot of quiet, empty floors to descend while Umeko searches for her partner, but a few floors before the bottom one, she finds the stag climbing up the stairs himself. He looks unhurt, though there are some dirty scuffs on his trousers and coat, and a small tear in his swordsman's cloak. His cane clicks on the steps as he looks up and spies Umeko. "Aha… do we have you to thank for convincing the Lord Rook's host to call off their attack?"

"But of course. I single-handedly felled the entire army without lifting my blades," Umeko claims as she descends to meet him. She gives the Cervani a concerned look-over before stating, "You do not seem any worse for wear. And I also must admit I stopped the battle by discovering a mystery. The blade that felled the lord, I am presuming, but as to how it got here, or why it was here, is unknown to me." She draws it out and offers it to him as she adds, "The moment I touched it, the endless battle here found silence."

"I'm hale and whole, though I am certainly glad you ended the ordeal when you did, my lady. It pleases me to see you weathered the storm as well." The Cervani lord seems intrigued, and accepts the sword when it's proffered, studying it curiously. "The instant you touched this sword, the maelstrom ended? Interesting… this doesn't look like a noble's blade. Sturdy, and it bears the Pieksvaldt arms, but I'd think it to be the kind carried into battle by one of the common men… one of the Midnight Murder, perhaps." He offers the hilt back to Umeko. "There was nothing else?"

"Nothing save crumbling stones. No bones, no signs of corpse. It was just laying there. Perhaps it was dropped from the sky, but that is just a guess," Umeko says as she accepts the hilt back and eases it back into her belt-sash. "Or brought back as proof the Lord fell. Perhaps it broke the Lady's mind. I wish there was more answers here. The blade has significance and it is now proven one of his men turned on him … but why? And who? and how does that help us end the now? Can this blade, this Lordslayer, also end the curse somehow?"

Vandringar rubs the steel cap of his cane, seeming to mull this over. "Perhaps, perhaps. It must have significance, or it wouldn't have been secreted away thus, nor would those ghosts cling to it so strongly. We should bring it back to the others, I think… and soon. Daybreak is coming."

"Indeed," Umeko agrees and then offers her arm to the Cervani. "Let us return to a place of relative safety and comfort for now. Perhaps more of this ancient tale will make itself known to us through the experienced of the others," she says.