Olivia's room
Inside this room are several pieces of well-worn furniture, inherited from past occupants: a bed, a long, squat dresser with a slice of mirror hung above it, and a small desk and chair. The rest of the room is decorated in what can best be described as "controlled chaos." Canvases cover most of the wall space, on which have been glued odd assortments of buttons, twine, bits of colored cloth, autumn leaves, pebbles of varying sizes, etc. Some of this "art" represents recognizable figures but most are unlike anything ever seen before. Overflowing bags stuffed with cloth scraps sit near the doorway, while more cloth, bobbins of thread, yarn, and ribbons cover the surface of the desk. Located next the bed is something that might be a nightstand (judging from the trinkets resting on it), but it too is built from a mish-mash of smaller elements, twisting around and around like a corkscrew and then widening and flattening at the top.

And the day starts off with a thunderous boom, coupled with flashes of bright lightning. The skies seem to have opened up today as rain beats down outside of Olivia's small room. The air is humid, the temperatures warm and vaguely unpleasant. Due to the concerns stemming from the heavy rain (and various leaks in the buildings), work is running a lot lighter today. Which, happens to be good for Olivia, really, since she's supposed to meet up with the Necromancer near the edge of the woods, in the vicinity of the Gnarly tree.

After making sure that no one is about to ask her any questions (which there isn't – almost everyone is someplace else, enjoying the break in spite of the rain), Olivia pulls on her short, water-proof cloak over her clothes and dashes out into the deluge. It's raining so hard she can barely see two feet in front of her, but somehow the Skeek finds her way to the Gnarly Tree. She leans against it, panting at the humidity and her fight through the water and mud to get there.

Near the edge of the wood, and close to the Gnarly Tree, something behind her reaches over her shoulder, then drags rough, gloved fingertips along her cheek. "You're late," comes the all too familiar voice of the Necromancer. "I guess you don't like my little gift of rain… " he adds, laughing darkly.

Olivia gahs! and spins around to face him, one hand going up to rub at the spot on her face that he touched. "I apologize," she says, trying to keep her voice steady. "I had to make sure no one at the Weavers' saw me leave. I wanted to avoid any questions."

Once again, the necromancer is clothed head to toe and Olivia can make out no details of his features. "I like the rain," the Necromancer remarks, hissing quietly. "Wet, drenching, not unlike bathing in a shower of blood."

Olivia's eyes track briefly to what she thinks are figures moving in among the trees, a little distance away. And there's the 'cavalry,' she thinks bitterly. This is going to be fun… Aloud, she says, "As comfortable as you might find it out here, all I'm getting is drowned. Shall we go forward?"

"Ah, ready to sell your friends out quickly for your own comfort, are you? You will make a fine servant, indeed," the Necromancer says, sounding a bit amused by that, the waves his hand forward. "Lead on, then, soon to be harem girl."

Olivia stares into the necromancer's hood, trying to find something recognizable there. "I'm not thinking of my own comfort," she says, quietly but firmly. "But I just want to get this over with." Then she turns toward the path and leads the necromancer into the woods.

No, nothing can be seen under that hood and through the rain. And the walk through the woods seems fairly uneventful. It would even probably be fun, except for the downpour and the Necromancer walking just a few feet behind her. "So, tell me, do you think your half-witted friend would look better dressed as a serving wench, or as part of my undead army, hmm?" he asks, chuckling darkly. "Or, perhaps an an entree… "

Olivia shudders at this and pulls her cloak more tightly around her, but she keeps on walking. "That's not really for me to decide, now is it?" is the Skeek's only reply.

"No, but I was wondering if you would like a trinket to remember her by, regardless. Perhaps her tail, or maybe her hand, hmm?" the Necromancer says in a disturbingly teasing tone. Ahead, Olivia can now just make out the entrance into the underground bunker.

Olivia glares at the necromancer briefly to let him know just what she thinks of that suggestion. "You're very… thoughtful, but I don't want any of her body parts, thank you," she says icily. She faces forward again and waves a hand in the direction of the bunker's doors. "We're almost there. This way."

"You don't like me very much, do you?" he asks, sounding delightfully amused now. "In time, you will come to adore me." And with that, the Necromancer goes quiet as they approach the door.

Olivia mutters under her breath, "Huh, whatever gave you that idea… " Then she, too, goes silent as they come close to the oaken doors set into the stone. She grabs the handle of one and pulls – and as Amy promised, the door opens without incident. It is a bit slow going, as the door is very heavy for one small Skeek, but in time Olivia opens it all the way and looks to the necromancer again for direction.

"You know, it seems strange to me that this would be the site for a healer's place," the Necromancer points out, his cowl turning to stare blankly at Olivia. "You wouldn't be trying to lure me into a trap, would you?"

Trying to keep her calm, Olivia merely shrugs. "I thought it was a bit odd for an infirmary to be underground, too," she comments, "but Amelia said something about patients recovering much faster in a quiet, undisturbed place like this."

"Mmm, I suppose," the Necromancer comments, then adds darkly, "But, if you are lying to me, I will sup on your spleen this evening… " He then waves his hand and says, "Women first, child. That way, if there are any traps, you walk into them before me."

"Very well," Olivia replies, then steps down through the doorway. She hopes that the oil lamps she saw in the tunnel before are still here, or else they won't be going much of anywhere. Unless the necromancer has a light-source of his own, that is.

As if reading her mind, the necromancer flicks his wrist and summons a pale red flame to light the way. It dances on his palm soundlessly. They descend slowly. The necromancer seems to want to stop and wait a few minutes after every couple steps.

Olivia finds this hesitation nerve-wracking but she bears it as best she can, knowing that any indication of haste on her part will arouse the necromancer's suspicions. She takes a few steps… and waits. A few more steps… and waits a little more.

The necromancer sniffs the air. "Ah, the sweet stench of stale air. The scent of a tomb. A perfect place for my rebirth," he hisses softly.

Olivia shakes some of the rain off her cloak while she waits for the necromancer to move forward again. "Well, I'm glad someone's enjoying the smell down here," she murmurs. "I just find the air a bit too close for comfort."

"You will enjoy it sooner than you think," the Necromancer notes, then pushes on her shoulder. "Go."

Olivia shivers a little at his touch, wondering at the cause of that strange sensation she just felt. However, she doesn't have the time to think about it long, since the necromancer is prodding her forward again. She does as instructed, stepping further down along the tunnel.

And at long last, Olivia finds herself before the iron door. "An iron door, in a hospital? Ridiculous," the Necromancer hisses, his hands raising. "Child, why do I believe you have LIED to me? Open that door, and slowly."

Olivia doesn't even bother looking at the necromancer again but merely does as she is told. She pushes on one of the heavy iron doors, putting all her weight and strength into it. Foot by foot, the door swings open.