In a condescending tone, Cato said "Now, now, then what would you be doing here, agressive and on the trail of the phantom. Do not take me for a fool." He took a step forward. "I don't want to have to interrogate you."

"Oh, don't worry," flashed Eledhe. "If having to interrogate me is such a chore I shall spare you the necessity." Her scimitar flashed up, glinting dully in the dim moonlight. "I dare you to try."

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A soft voice said, exasperated, "Humans...." Cato's robe fell to the ground, leaving not a trace of him, and, dressed in black mail and tunic, he appeared behind her. As his raised blade came crashing down toward her shoulder he said "Do not trust your mortal eyes."

Threng was reluctant to pull his ear away from the trap door. He didn't like the thought that Eledhe was alone, though he knew that she was more that able to defend herself. The voices were too muffled to understand, but the tone was on of unmistakable animosity. He itched to grab a dagger and fight, and wondered why he shouldn't. By the sound of it Eledhe would not escape without a fight. There was a chance she would win (seeing her skill with a blade he knew it was a good chance), but there was always that chance that the enemy would get lucky. He'd much rather be fighting in the open than be trapped in the tight stairwell. "I'm going to help." He muttered. With a dagger secure in his grip he slowly pushed up the trap door. Luck was with him; the hinges opened without a squeek. He hid himself partialy behind the tree, waiting for the opportunity to strike.

Except Eledhe's shoulder wasn't there.

And in another moment she was behind him, scimitar glinting. Eledhe would have been very happy to kill him right then, but somehow she wasn't sure the Phantom would approve. "I don't happen to be entirely human, I'll have you know," she delivered caustically -

- and her scimitar hilt came down on this irritating man's head, effectively knocking him senseless for quite some time, and gifting him generously with a splitting headache when he awoke. Satisfied, Eledhe turned and raised an eyebrow at what would have seemed to be shadow to the uninitiated. Which Eledhe wasn't.

"You can come out now, Threng," she said, and disappeared down the trapdoor.

((Hope you don't mind I knocked Cato out, Witchy))

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OoC. You know, I do mind, considering that he's wearing head protection aside from a simple mask.

((But Witchy, none of us have anything to do for as long as Cato is standing there...They're not leaving without Eledhe, and Eledhe's not backing down. ))

OoC. ...Very well, but I'll do it in a different way.


Cato quietly leaned himself against a tree. His mask had fallen away to reveal his face: it looked like that of a ninety year old human, and was framed by silver hair. He had no eyes, simply black holes that gazed to the depths of the soul. He spoke quietly, "Very well, flee, make this hunt something to remember." then stood still, save for the movements of his chest as he breathed.

But he spoke to thin air. The whole group were now beneath the hidden trap door and Eledhe was bolting it quite securely. She had a sneaking suspicion he knew it was there, but he'd be unable to get it open in any case, so it didn't matter.

The Phantom was waiting, a torch flaring in his hand. He raised an eyebrow.

Eledhe glanced back at the door. "Troublemaker," she said with a shrug, resolving to tell him in more detail in safer surroundings. "Let's go."

The dank underground path sloped steeply downwards for some time before it became a stone passage, marked at intervals by torches, with dark ways leading off from the main one. The Phantom counted under his breath. "Eleven...twelve...this one," and he started abruptly into one of them.

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OoC. *bump*

Anybody still here?

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(Okie fine!)
Threng hurried down the narrow corridor, then turned the corner as The Phantom did. It was dark in that corridor, but if the Phantom knew where he was going, Threng would follow

Ash walked near the back of the line, holding another torch. He knew the passageway well, having used it several times while spying.

After a long while of dank dripping sounds, a moist echo whenever someone spoke, and the general sounds of echoing footsteps, the Phantom came to the conclusion that if ever a dwarf saw this abandoned mine, they'd be affronted. Dwarven architects prided themselves on sound, dry underground constructions and this was decidedly not one.

The thought of dwarves made him feel for the little roll of vellum tucked into a pocket of his voluminous grey cloak. Still there. This could be their key - their key to everything.

But it abruptly made him think of the limp young nobleman slung over his shoulder - who was due to begin stirring sometime quite soon - and wonder if perhaps he was right, right that the Phantom was only descending to the level of those he hated. Impatiently the grey-cloaked rebel leader brushed the thought away. Of course he wasn't.

Eledhe, meanwhile, was intently scrutinizing what she could see of his face. He was oblivious to her stare, but she too was wondering what came next - and if she would be in on the plans. All had gone roughly according to their plan of action, and she seemed to be advancing further into the inner circle, which was promising. But the Phantom was a very hard man to read, and Eledhe was finding this disconcerting.

Finally they reached a flight of stone steps, reaching far up into blackness through a hall of stone, and began climbing. Footsteps could be heard faintly overhead, and voices.

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Cato slowly got up to his feet. With his right hand he took up his mask and carefully replaced it on his face, causing a veil of darkness to cover the rest of his head. Then he went over to his robes and threw them over the tunic and mail. Well, I may have to offer my services to the Regent to have the resources for such a hunt. he thought while grabbing the sword still lying on the round and replacing it.

Jate first became aware of movement. He was bumping up and down...? On someone's shoulder. He opened his eyes, then closed them, then opened them again. Wherever he was, it was dark. Very dark. He mentally cursed himself for not watching where he was headed. he then became aware of the noise. Or rather, the lack of it. The only sounds were those of feet walking along a stony area and water dripping. No one of apparently a large group was talking. Jate attempted to make speak, but all that came out was a rasping "ugh."

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going on a journey through my old claims