Feeling a little run ragged, Gypsy turns from his latest translation session and breathes a sigh of relief when he finds nobody standing behind him waiting for their turn. The spell itself was not very difficult, but the strain of constantly re-casting and sustaining it was definitely draining. Removing the green and black bandanna, he runs finely manicured fingers through his long golden-blonde hair. A small smile crosses his features when he looks around and sees no one immediately clamoring for his attention.

His pleasure is short-lived though, as he catches sight of Dogma waiting off to one side of the large, auditorium-like chamber. With a small sigh, Gypsy nods to the other elf, then gathers his small pack and sets off for what should be an interesting briefing.

The hours of non-stop translation had given the sorcerer a chance to observe the various mannerisms of the inhabitants of this Cairn. That's what it was, he was sure of it now. Just as he was now sure about his Theory. Everything seems to fit so neatly in place with what little knowledge is to be had about it in the Sixth World. This had to be a Fourth World Cairn, created to protect the people from 'The Horrors' during the highest parts of the Magic Cycle.

The endless translations also had another benefit. While the actual spell only allowed a magic, language-less conversation between two willing people, he could still concentrate on the native chatter that always accompanies such meetings. As the day went on, he began to follow more and more of what was being said in the strange native tongue.

Managing to reach the team leader without being side-tracked any further than to accept an elderly elven woman's offering of a jug half-filled with a fruity-smelling liquid, Gypsy flops down on one of the rocky outcroppings along the side. As Dogma takes a seat on an adjacent stone, the sorcerer straightens and clears his throat.

"We can do this by Mindlink, or ...?"

At the leader's negative wave, he sighs once again in relief. Casting even one more spell right now was the last thing Gypsy wanted to do. Placing the decanter on the floor, he takes out his pocket secretary and chip case, leans forward, elbows resting on knees, and proceeds to fill Dogma in on his Theory.

As he speaks at length on his theories concerning all that has happened, Gypsy gives the other elf the datachip supposedly containing everything ever posted on Shadowland pertaining to the Fourth World. Dogma slots the chip and copies its contents into his internal memory. Overall, it amounted to about the size of a large magazine, which is normally considered a meagre fact-base, but it gave some quite precise examples of too many things that they were experiencing not to be taken seriously. Retrieving the chip, Gypsy finishes by summing up their current situation with three possibilities.

"The first possibility is that we have discovered a very very long-lost Cairn in the Sixth World. This is extremely unlikely, as the people here would have had to have been living inside for at least six or seven thousand years. They would also have had to live through a Downcycle, which should have killed all of the stranger creatures, like those seemingly made of rock. The physical evidence of Gremish's Astral trek to the surface also discredits this possibility.

"The second, and more likely theory, at least in my opinion, is that we have somehow been transported back in time to the Fourth World. It is pretty much impossible to predict an exact year at the moment, but it would be sometime after the peak of the Magic Cycle. It seems from all evidence that at least five hundred years have passed since the Cairn was sealed. It would seem that we arrived due to a misguided summoning by that big Demon-like thing back there. The Circle itself was probably the conduit which he was using for the conjuration.

"The third, albeit most far-fetched possibility is that this is all some type of strange Astral Quest. Although I personally have never been on one, my studies have included many documented examples, and they all basically say one thing in common. Astral Quests, even those to the same Metaplane, can't be predicted, as each Quest is totally unique in every way. Although these Quests are normally confined to those who can astrally project, there have been cases where aspected magicians and even total mundanes have been pulled into one. I only mention this theory, even as a possibility, because I have no way of actually disproving it at the moment."

Gypsy seems to remember the jug, gathering it from the floor beside him as he leans back, and takes a deep drink of the slightly tart beverage.

Jack kind of fades into the background as everyone says they're piece. He has nothing to add. He is as dependant on bullets and electricity as the rest (and now he rather regrets burning an entire clip of ExEx on arrival). Unless they could build a solar collector or something, everything juice powered would be running down fairly quickly. His shock gloves would probably last through one or two engagements, but they they'd be too thirtsty to run anymore too.

As he thinks, he continually scans the crowds, taking pictures, and recording voice samples. When Dogma's order came through, he'd already amassed a decent sized file.

Gypsy seemed to be straining himself quite a bit to keep so much translating magic going, but then Jack noticed that he didn't seem to be the only one who was making an effort to pick up the language on his own. It was quite likely that they'd need Gypsy at full strength for other things later on, anyways.

He noticed Dogma and Gypsy putting their heads together off to one side, It looked like they were talking openly, although Gypsy was very intent about something. Out of curiosity, he drifted closer, catching the last half of Gypsy's theory. He wasn't sure which was worse: magic yanking them througha portal to some other time, or magic yanking them to some other plane.

James' jaw drops.
"I think I speak for all of us when I say Holy shit! That's huge. Uh, you may want to translate the implications of this for the natives, that's, ah. Um. God damn it, that's the first time in three hours I've been shocked into incoherency."

Dogma nodded his head as Gypsy explained his theories and shared his knowledge of the Fourth World with him.

"Yeah, I had thought about an Astral Quest too. I don't know much about them, but from what I do know..." Dogma's voice trailed off, Gypsy nodding in understanding while taking a shot of the jug the woman had give him.

"But time travel... that should be impossible...". There was some sort of awe in the elf's voice, as he stared fixedly at the floor.

"Unless their magic here is so superior that such a thing is possible. But, what if only beings with as much power as the Horrors can open a time warp? And what if this time portal was an amazing fluke by the demon. What if it can't be reproduced?"

Both elves stayed silent at the thought of that.

While Tevos knows his sprits, all this magical theory is way above his head. But he adds what he can.
"Gypsy, as far as I know, only a rather powerful free sprit, and I'm talking F9 or F10 on the Atrendler-Fulstone scale, could send a mundane on the astral, but even then its only the willing ones that would go. And I for one wasn't exactly willing. Which leaves.... " Tev drops the end of the sentence.
Before anyone can answer he leaves to go find something that might pass as lunch.

"Without them, we're completely useless.", James finishes, in his discussion with the elders over their need for ammo. After a few moments of discussion together, the elders come upon a decision. Moments later a young boy comes running up to the group of people gathered together, carrying a oaken box that is nearly 2 meters in length and as wide as a man's body, but only a hand's width in depth. He hands it to an Elder who places it on a table nearby, with an open hand, the Elder gestures to James to open the box. Within James finds an exquisitely carved bow of Ivory. So perfectly crafted that one can not tell where the string ends and bow begins, almost as if the string itself were made of the same ivory. "Learn its name, and it will always have a bullet ready for you." Although clearly not what James intended, further discussion proves to be pointless, and Gypsy helps out by mentioning that there's no way in the world that magic could create the bullets James desires.

Sleel, at this time, joins the conversation, "These too will need such bullets", he implores, "And sunlight to power them", all of which is like speaking a foreign language to these beings. As best as you can tell, there isn't even a word to translate Sun into, to these beings. A word lost in the obscurity of the past, from half a millennia or more trapped beneath the surface. The elders shrug, unable to help at all, no Bow they have could be held by the strange creatures who don't speak, but fly like a Windling. After more minutes of trying to get across the needs, the Elders walk off in frustration commenting that if their magic was so powerful, what need would they have for Chosen Ones.

As the Elders return to their places in the center of the room, Tev summons forth a low force spirit that manefests before them, appearing much like a small pony that stands about 2 hands in height. Immediately the children start to scream in glee, they rush forward and start playing with the spirit to Tev's amazement. They actually seem to have more control over the spirit than he does, and the spirit is very playful with them in return. The elders give an approving nod at Tev, obviously the child lover within the Chosen Ones.

Later in the evening, the team comes together to discuss things of major concern, like lack of toilet paper, and lack of electricity. Sleel is the most perturbed by the turn of events. His mental calculations have the Stratos at having about 15 more KM total on their man-hours, maybe less. Slinky is sure she could convert one of the Gunther's into a power converter, but it would no longer be useful as a drone, and that would mean that the team would have to remain on the surface to make decent use of it. She could possibly do it with the 2 soon-to-be-fueless Stratos, but would require one of the suncell power units from one of the 2 Gunthers, meaning it wouldn't be charging all the time like the other one would, but at least it would be chargeable during off-times, unlike the Stratos' which will be unconvertable to electric power.

It becomes obvious to the team that soon, very soon it seems, they'd have to head to the surface. Not only did the local residents believe their saviours have a job on the surface, but without sunlight, the team would be running into problems.

Damn. I thought asking for bullets would be useless, but I was hoping I could get some kind of blasting spell contingent on pulling the trigger. Looks like I'll have to get proficient with this fast.
But he smiles like Vanna White and takes the bow and nods and smiles some more.

While he's walking around the cairn, he also searches the food stores. He's going to need some anti-coagulants if he's going to stay alive- but fortunately, he read the owner's manual on his platelet factory, so he knows what to look for in an emergency.


Later, at the team meeting...
"We have to get outside sometime, and I say the sooner the better. I can go out and scout the area out, helped by Rebo in astral form...then the rest can come through and we can begin the recon in earnest. Seem like a plan?"

"Hmm... Alright James, go ahead and do that. But be very careful. You're one sneaky guy, but the creatures around here can probably take you out in a hearthbeat. If you really want to go ahead, go, but be careful"

"As for the rest of us, I'm going to ask the Elders a few questions about what we can expect to face out there. While I do that, everyone gather supplies for an extended leave. Food, camping gear, fire... anything else you might want. I don't know how long we'll be out, so better not take any chances. Everyone meet back up in the village plaza in one hour. Anyone need to bring up anything else before?"

***

After the team meeting, Dogma, who'd picked up the Common language of the cave dwellers very easily, went to see the Elders. He asked what kind of creatures they could expect to face, their powers and their weaknesses. Also, he tried to breach the subject of the Time warp with them. Was it possible? Could they offer any explanation?

The small electronics guru spends a lot of time caught between frustration and triumph as she learns some basic words in the strange language, throwing herself into the task rather than grapple with the mind-twisting thoughts of time travel or Mundies on Astral Quests. Mostly she resorts to pantomime to the great amusement of the wide-eyed children who keep as close as their elders allow them to the mysterious and certainly very dangerous Quardina Meofercent.

She learns to her great dismay the shaded differences in the Dweller word for ‘take’ as she asks to ‘take’ the skin of one of the Elders’ young daughter. Apparently they frown on cannibalism. Go figure. She files the distinction away and lets Dogma smooth the gaff. Better stick to studying rocks… She takes samples of the various mineral and fungal varieties in the cave system saving them for analysis with the chem set.

****************

Slinky puts an arm around her brother’s shoulders and talks quietly, “Don’t worry, Andy. We’ll work something out to keep these guys up and running.”

She runs a finger over Little Bird’s ‘brow’. The little brown drones were her favorite. She gave Sleel what she hoped was a reassuring smile and makes her way across the large cavern, moving through pools of light and into shadow, feet guided by low-light vision and the dim phosphorescence of moss cultivated by the cave-dwellers.

A look of concern creases her forehead as she sees Gypsy rub his temples and lean back tiredly against a column. She speaks from the darkness, shy at the uncharacteristic display, but moved to boldness from concern for her friend and the aptness of the verse that bubbles up from her subconscious,

“I AM so tired and weary,
So tired of the endless fight,
So weary of waiting the dawn,
And finding endless night.

That I ask but rest and quiet-
Rest for days that are gone,
And quiet for the little space
That I must journey on.”

She moves into the dim light around her tired partner and pulls a length of cloth, one of many gifts, from around her neck and dips it in a nearby pool. She looks up at Gypsy’s glance, “Supplication, by Joseph S. Cotter.” She wrings out the cloth and hands it to the golden-haired elf. “For your head. Don't work too hard.” She smiles awkwardly and starts at a squeal of delight from a gaggle of children gathered around a spirit and a somewhat bewildered looking Tevos. She gives Gypsy’s shoulder a squeeze and stands in silence.

**************

I hope they aren’t that dependant on bullets; that they think we’ll be dead in the water without them. We’re better than that. She looks over at her pack. Wonder if I could reroute the solar collectors for the drones to power my gear… if I had a shop, sure. Just have to see. She chuckles with irony… ‘cause I just know I’m going to need that bug scanner any minute now. She rolls her eyes and begins to make a mental list in her head of the gear that she could leave in the caverns to lighten her pack.

The Elders bring a bow reverently forward. Slinky’s mouth drops open and she steps forward, a hand outstretched toward the beautiful artifact. She stops, afraid of another misstep and refrains from touching it. Eyes never leaving it’s soft gleaming she asks quietly, in stilted Common, “Name? Weapon owns name?”

James smiles at Slinky's poem and steps in with another, gathering up a few survival supplies and a day's worth of food.
"Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.
'Invictus.'"
A deep breath.
"Come on, Rebo, open up the rock and follow me on the Astral. Let's get started before we run out of poems."
With that, he straps the unbelievable bow to his back, throws the ruthie cloak over his head, and pads down the corridor, beginning the long trek upwards.

The physical apperance of the spirit does somewhat confuse Tevos, not used to seeing sprits of man manafest as animals. What does however interest him is the amount of control the children seem to have on the spirit. Amused, and apperently being called a friend of the children, he sings a short folk song in Armenian his uncle Yeveston taught him once.


Ba§kasý olma, kendin ol
Böyle çok daha güzelsin
Ya gel bana sahici sahici
Ya da anca gidersin

Anasýnýn kuzusu
Ciðerimin kö§esi
Kýz bu neyin cakasý
Kýz hepsi senin mi?
Hepsi senin mi?

Oynama §ýkýdým §ýkýdým
Ah yanar döner, a-acayipsin

Ne deli ne de divaneyim
Biliyorum sonunu
Sanma uðruna viraneyim
Beyenmedim oyununu

Oynama §ýkýdým §ýkýdým
Ah yanar döner, a-acayipsin

Hadi kasýl, hadi kapris yap
Hadi ben çekerim razýyým
Hadi, emrine amadeyim


With that he leaves the children wth the spirit untill the next sun rise/set, bows as a sign of respect to the elders and shoulders his belongings to meet the others in the common plaza.

"Pity really, for some reason it feels very much like a home. This little place, where ever, when ever, which ever, could teach us a lot, both practical and kinda... I don't know, about people."
Sensing he over stepped his own boundeys of knowlage he shrugs and goes back to humming that folk song.

Rebo lies on his back on the floor of the cave, his hands cradling his head, still trying to get his head around this whole situation. No matter how hard he thought, he just couldn't get his head around things. A barren Tir na Nog, devoid of life except for these hostile extra-dimensional entities and these primitive humanoids...it all suggested one thing.

Time travel.

Not only was the team stranded far from Denver, they were stranded who knows how many YEARS away from it. This wasn't a matter of hopping a flight across the ocean; this was a matter of finding a way to go forward in time...

Rebo suddenly felt very alone. Even with the rest of the team stuck in the same boat with him, he felt alone and homesick. Living the rest of his life in this place and time terrified him like few things had before, save for that run-in with blood spirits in Aztlan...

I didn't sign up for this shit, he thinks. I signed up to stick it to the azzholes, not to get sent across time fighting something out of mythology! How the hell does this shit...

"Come on, Rebo, open up the rock and follow me on the Astral. Let's get started before we run out of poems."

Rebo's eyes snap open in an angry glare, pissed off at having had his reverie been interrupted.

"Yeah, coming!" he growls, getting up and picking up his weapons and ammo, heading to the meeting point where James is.

Sleel walks over to his drones, slowly polishing and adjusting them while he mulls over his decision. He carefully cleans and checks all their weapons, and the ammo belts, and wipes off any smudges that they have gotten. Slowly, he turns to the group and says sadly, "Well, my Hernandos have no way to be recharged, and I don't think I'll be able to find any fuel for them around here. Likewise, the rest of them can't keep going without some sun. As a last resort, I can probably swap the gun on a Hernando with one of the Gunthers, trading ammunition for firepower. Then we would have two combat capable drones, one with a light machine gun and a considerable amount of ammo, and the other with a medium machine gun and less ammo. It'd also help use up the ammo Hernando has on him, since the gun is otherwise attached. I'll stay here for now, until you guys reach topside, once that happens, and we find the most direct way out, I'll send all of them that can recharge through solar power out, so they can juice up."

The team meeting over, a course of action agreed upon, and the jug unfortunately empty, Gypsy closes his eyes and leans his head back against the chamber wall. The effort and stress of the day's events, not to mention the deceptively strong drink, had finally caught up with the elven sorcerer.

Moments later he hears a shuffling noise, and opens his eyes to find an elderly ork male, arms laden down with an assortment of blankets. Smiling tiredly at the ancient Cairn-dweller, Gypsy manages a few slurred and halting words of thanks in the newly-learned but still strange language as he accepts one of the surprisingly soft covers. Without rising, he throws the blanket over himself and using his small pack as a pillow, curls up and is soon fast asleep.

Jack found himself able already able to follow simple conversations, and pick up a few words here and there. It probably helped that he could keep an annotated verbal and video dictionary in his head. Gypsy looked like he was grabbing some shut eye, while James was preparing to head out. Rebo, fortunately for him, didn't have to go anywhere. He just had to find a comfortable spot and astrally project.

He gave Dogma a glance. "If he needs any backup beyond Rebo, anyone in the cave is going to be too far away to do any good. I volunteer to go too. I can map the route up through the cave while I'm at it, and remain in the cave itself as backup, and potentially a radio relay." Jack opened up the Carry All, pulling out his Predator III and holster. He also opened up the Me Box, slipping a quartet of chips into his jukebox, and two more into the slots in his head. He put his longcoat back one before closing the case back up and standing. "Any additional orders, boss?"
-----------------------------------

Slinky gears up with her lighter ruck, ready to traipse to the surface and find the sun. Now that her pack is several kilos lighter, there is a spring in her step. She bounces on her toes and she bites her lips as she gives an askance look at James and Jack. She spots Gypsy bedding down on the opposite side of the cave and her brow furrows. Dang. I was looking forward to getting outta these caves.

She sighs and unshoulders her pack, “Until Dogma reassigns me looks like I’m staying. Y’all don’t have too much fun, you hear?” She grins and goes off to where Sleel frets over his drones and fishes Digital Deck chip out of her bag.

“Wanna play?” She slots the chip into her P-Sec. Guess I’ll have to figure out a way to power this with the sun. Her lips purse thoughtfully… Or off of bioelectricity, like cyber. Hmmm… She hits some function keys idly and a fluttering sound comes from her pocket secretary as the digital deck shuffles.

A small, flat voice asks, >>Would you like to play a game?<<

James, who has spent much of the past few days exploring the cave-city, finds an interesting alcove with many strange plants growing throughout the walls. A Caretaker is there, massaging an orc's temples while the orc taps itself on the chest. A moment later, the orc rises and nods, accepting a pouch of something from the elf-looking caretaker. The caretaker looks over at James, nodding as if he were analyzing James from a whole different perspective. In the common tongue, he says something, which James believes translate to "Good day, you are gezaund but there is much zwaurde in your lieievde. Sit." He seems most perplexed as he continues to look at James, but even more so, he seems intrigued. He analyzes James entirely, touching different parts of his head exactly like a doctor would. He then picks up what appears to be a magnifying glass and looks into the cat-like eyes of James, seemingly shocked as the nictitating membrane blinks in response to the prismatic surface of the glass shooting a strong beam of light into the corner of the eye. James sits there, trying to explain the different unheard of herbs he needs, none of which seem to grow in this cave. Finally he pulls out one of his anticoagulant pills, showing it to the doctor, who quickly takes it from James' fingers, and breaks it open, sniffing deeply. He then picks up a sharp knife that looks similar to a scalpel, and slices a bit into James' finger. He nods as the blood flows out too slowly, reaches up and grabs a lead, breaking it over the cut so the leaf drips a juice onto the cut, which immediately causes it to scab over. After cleaning off the excess, he takes a plant from one of the higher shelves, and hands it to James. He takes a leaf, wraps it tightly and motions for James to open his mouth. As James does this, the doctor places the leaf under the tongue. He looks at the pills, and motions that James should discard them.


Dogma and Gypsy sit with the Elders, their questions seeming to come from an endless torrent of curiosity. They ask over the various things in the world, the weaknesses, and types of horrific monsters which plague the lands. The Elders find it difficult to talk about it, after all, few ever survive an encounter with a Horror. The only weakness they seem to have is their hunger for life. The only plan the people have, is to wait til they starve, and hope that they are correct in that assumption. Both Dogma and Gypsy notice after a bit, that they pick up the language alot faster than the previous 2 days, and are grasping words they never even heard of before. The Elders go on to explain that the 2 of them are "old souls", their souls come from this time, and the Shaman of the caern, an old woman, has performed a ritual to remind the souls of this age.

Rebo has the hardest time of everyone, his temper flares repeatedly despite the meditative state of his studies. As a Psionicist, peace of mind is one of the most essential neccessities to perform his tricks of the mind. Yet, it is so easy to get annoyed here, this place... he doesn't belong here, he doesn't have any desire to even be here, and his sole task seems to be to talk to a rock. Not a bad task, but definitely a feel-used task. His is the most powerful mind of his age, able to do things with a mere thought that Mages have to summon up great astral force to accomplish, and shamans have to go begging to their little totem gods to do. It's obvious that these are the things that led to the ruin of the age he's now in, and he's not the only one who seems to feel this way. The Obsidian people seem to share with Rebo the power of the Psyche, they have a tendency to stop and look Rebo directly in the eyes, something they don't do with the other team members, and when they do, Rebo feels a peace run through him similar to the peace he feels talking to the Rock entrance, one of the oldest of the Obsidian people.


Tevos spends time with the children, making friends along the way with the younger generation who spend an equal amount of time telling stories that the Elders would not tell. Stories of great horrors who can rend the mind while you sleep. Although not fully grasping all the children stories, their roleplaying helps tremendously, giving Tevos time to grasp the language at a child's level, while at the same time giving him access to Horror Lore. As the time draws near for him to follow the team to the surface, he pulls away from the ever playful children, patting them all on the head as he goes through their names with a smile.


Dogma draws the team together to head to the surface. It's time to recon a bit and move on. Sleel and Slinky inform him that they must stay behind to work on a solar recharger, forcing Dogma into the decision that this is purely a recon mission. Gypsy, who has much to learn from the Elders, offers to stay behind as well, to aide as needed. With that, the rest of the team head out the cave towards the surface.

It takes nearly 8 hours to reach the entrance of the cave. Jack goes off my himself on various times to map the tunnels more thoroughly, so he is not with the team when they reach the mouth of the cave. Gazing out the cave, they see they're on a cliff face facing a large ocean. Directly up is the surface of the cliff, a precarious climb on a narrow ledge, but nothing the team can't handle. The shade of the cliff suggests it's shortly after noon. But reaching the surface presents another huge delimma... it's bright. Not just daylight bright, but light reflectiving off a flat barren lifeless white rock and sand glaring in the eyes kinda bright. Unbearable without some sort of sunglasses or flare compensation. And the land is completely bare. Not even a small blade of grass emerging from the crag-like surface. It becomes quickly obvious that the recon will have to wait til nightfall for anyone to be able to notice anything of interest. After a quick agreeance, the team huddles back down to the cave in time to see Jack coming up from below with an intent look on his face as he goes over some of the tunnel layouts.

Meanwhile, beneath the surface, Sleel and Slinky perform the task of completing a Solar Powersource.


Everyone:

Dogma stands looking across the endless blasted landscape, his ivory long coat giving him a surreal glow as the distorted apocalyptical light bounces off him.

No life. No life at all, for as far as the eye can see. The information he'd learned about the 4th world, and the Horrors consuming all life, hadn't even prepared him for this. They ate everything.

He turned oon his heels, the rocky dust grinding against his boots, and went back into the mouth of the cave, where everyone was gathered.

"Well, not much to go on... First of all, Tevos, you're the only one here with any sort of survival skills, so I'm going to be counting on you when we set out across this nothingness"

"But first, we need to find out if there's even anywhere to go TO. Tevos, Gremish and Rebo, try to take a astral peek around, see if there are any settlements or structures or anything at all around us. Last time we had some problems with Background Count, though. Is that going to be a problem?"

Heat had never really bothered Tevos, but this wasn't normal heat. This was bacon and eggs heat. This was the daylight side of Mercury heat.

While the astral space of Ireland had been quite possibly the most mind blowing thing he had seen, the lifelessness of this place was bleak, forboding, openly hostile. His companions where in mixed sprits, some doing better then others. He had found some solace in the company of the children, and seemingly garnered some thanks from the caretakers of the cairn. But this wasn't home. Not that Denver was home, not that really anywhere was home, but he missed his family. He couldn't remember when he had gone so long with out running into someone who knew his face. Perhaps thats why the children, they where friendly, smiled at him, laughed with him.

Thankfully dusk comes quickly enough to ward off the deepening introspective gloom. The chosen ones had work. That still didn't sit right, Tevos didn't really feel chosen, more like shafted by some power way beyond his comprehension, never mind control.

"Want me to whip up some watchers, send them to the winds and see if they find anything? Figure if Rebo and I send a pack of the stupid things they are bound to find something. Might send a sky spirit on a long run, he will be able to see better, and help the drones if need be."

Nothing to hide behind...

That was what bothered James most, and that it bothered him sort of bothered him. It had seemed natural, even automatic, to be always scanning for cover and concealment in the dangerous sprawl of Denver, but after the homey if primitive environment of the cairn it seemed slightly unnatural to always be scanning for a hidey-hole.

He could get to like this sort of place, really...even if he had to occasionally go hunting for Horrors, at least he'd have a place where he could feel safe in between hunts. In Denver, you're always watching yer hoop even when you're not on run. Hell, even when you're retired from running! He did it every hour of every day of his life, and only now was he beginning to feel how draining it was.

Time to walk the aural plane, Rebo thinks as he sits on the rock floor, making himself comfortable for his trip.

Closing his eyes and staring at the shifting color patterns and spots to clear his mind and "trance out," Rebo relaxes and lets his consciousness leave his body, and the two separate...

And then Rebo sees himself, sitting on the floor.

Alright, let's do this then, Rebo thinks as his aural form jaunts off to join James in scouting things out.

Gremish, never really a people person, mostly stays to himself letting the others handle the talk and figuring out what would need to be done about ammo ect. He spends hi time in study, trying to find out what type of cavern this is with the type of rock and posibly getting some of the locals to show him downa little deeper.

Gremish more then anything would like to find out what type of wildlife enhabit the caverns so that he might be able to see the changes from this world and be prepared for anyhting they might encount er either here or topside. His number one goal at this point is getting the hell out of here, so another thing he wouldlike deeply to do is search intot e caverns depths for another mana warp that might prove usefull.

"Man, i really want a pop tart..." He says to himself as his stomach growls, while he looks at the stew the locals have provided that just doesnt taste right...

"Want me to whip up some watchers, send them to the winds and see if they find anything? Figure if Rebo and I send a pack of the stupid things they are bound to find something. Might send a sky spirit on a long run, he will be able to see better, and help the drones if need be." asks Tevos

"Worth a shot if the background count allows it. I don't know what kind of sky spirit is going to show up here, though. You know more than I do, so I leave it to you. Do whatever you feel is best to scout around." answers Dogma, givng Tevos a green card on astral recon.

Sleel decides that while he will have to go without the two hernando drones regardless of what decision is made, the other members of the team will need electricity eventually. He and Slinky begin working on the two Hernandos to convert them into a solar power generator, using the sun-cell system from one Arty drone. He does his best to ensure that the natives will leave them some space to work, he doesn't want a child or someone else thinking that a souvineer of the chosen ones would be a good thing to have. He makes sure that he has every part that wasn't needed, and keeps all his spare parts that result together as well.

Slinky worked late into the… night? She hadn’t verified it, but she thought she could detect a cyclic change in the phosphorescing fungi of the cave. Probably just imagining things. Wish I could remember more from my botany classes... might be able to figure out what time it is topside. She looked up and sighed wearily brushing wisping curls away from her forehead. Wonder how the guys are... been hours since they left. She looked back down at Andy’s Hernando before her. Gutted. As carefully as she could manage. But, without a proper shop, it was messy work. She shook her head, Poor Andy, and turned to reach behind her bumping right in to her brother. She yelped in surprise, “Geez! Andy!”

It is a measure of her startlement that she spoke her brother's name on the job. Taking a deep breath the girl grins at her big brother, “You scared me. Could you hand me that thinga-majig? You know, the one for the stuff?”

She grinned as he handed it to her, “Thanks. The worst bit is over.” She gestured to a pile of neatly arranged and labeled parts, “This is the stuff we’re not using. I might be able to put these guys back together.”

Andy, having known his sister... well, forever... knows that she is only trying to soften the blow of taking apart three of his drones and that they are largely unsalvageable.

She gestures at the pile of parts before her, too many of them disturbingly reminiscent of the Hernando for Sleel’s comfort, “And this, is what we’ll make into a generator.” She pulls out her pocket secretary and shows him a rough diagram.

“I designed it to come apart into three pieces,” she pauses at Sleel’s questioning look, “because we can’t carry it easily in one piece. It’s really pretty clever, I think I’ve outdone myself.” She leans forward and the two spend a good hour or two going over the plans, Slinky making changes and modifications as Sleel finds flaws or thinks of improvements.

After some time, a young reptilian woman with a tray of food approaches, meek, and obviously wondering if Sleel is going to chase her away as he had the others.

Slinky groans as sits back from their work. Food! Her stomach growls. She says in rough Common, “Slinky thanks me. Er… Slinky has thanks.”

She takes the tray. That’s not right. She starts again, “Slinky thanks you. You!” She grins in triumph at her brother. “Hah! That’s right – see, Sleel, I’ll make a fluent speaker yet!”

The reptilian woman’s face is hard to read, or at least, Slinky hasn’t gotten the hang of this species’ expressions yet, but the robed woman withdraws in a rustling of soft fabric and the hungry techie begins to eat with gusto.

“Have you noticed,” she says between chews, “How sad Tevos seems? You were buddied with him a couple of times… any idea why?”

Tevos sits crosslegged aginst the cavern wall, seeking some peace before the work of summoning. Some of the things he had heard from the children concerned more then it flat out scared him. But not now, there was work for the chosen ones to do.

Gypsy's head is a little worse for wear the following morning, and he finds himself wincing at each and every small noise that echoes through the caverns, and in need of his shades even in the dim light. It's only after managing to down a bowl of some bland, porridge-like substance, accompanied by a couple of pills from his medkit that he feels able to truly face another day.

Checking the progress of the other two team members that remain with him in the Cairn, he finds their mood somewhat mixed. Though almost half of the the tech talk goes over his head, he understands that Sleel is saddened by the fact that he has to sacrifice a number of his drones, being somewhat more attached to his mechanical toys than would appear normal, but can relate to that when he compares it to his own connection with Magic. The pair are also a little excited with the challenge of constructing some type of generator out of the cannibalized parts.

Quickly growing bored with the details of the project, Gypsy wanders off, deciding to further investigate the Cairn, paying attention to the little differences between the way the inhabitants go about their day-to-day tasks as compared to how things are customarily done in the Sixth World. Before leaving though, he informs the duo of his intentions, and also lets them know that he should be able to provide some magical assistance in the case of anything being broken beyond normal repair.

Night sets in on the surface with a bright full moon giving light. The team emerges a little before the sun fully sets, enjoying a rather nice sunset as they snack on the leaf wrapped bread and dried fruits provided for them. The watchers Tevos has sent out earlier return, and indicate that the land is barren for miles, it wasn't until they reached the next island that life was found. Whereas this island is a rocky crag, the next island flourishes with life, and even has a few town situated in the middle of it. It points in the direction of the northeast, where the island you know as Britain would stand. The night sky is refreshingly clear, and not a light to be seen for miles with the exception of the bright moon.

Meanwhile in the depths of the caverns, 3 people from a different time work on creating electricity in a world that knows no such thing. It's quick work to remove the sunpanels from the Arty without damaging it. Although it will now rely on manual recharging, which means a maximum of 2 hours at full speed, or 4 hours under normal conditions. Within a day's worth of work, the end result is a generator, breakable into 3 major parts, that can attach up to 3 things at a time to it. It has no battery to store the saved energy to, but can pump out a pleasant 60 pf per hour. Enough to recharge anything you have inside of an hour, as well as create other side effects from having electricity at your disposal. By the end of the day, Sleel, Slinky and Gypsy are ready to hit the sack, the team should be arriving soon, and a nice night of sleep sure help.

As the 3 settle in to rest, horrific screams can be heard coming from a distant part of the cave, screams so blood curdling that everyone's heart starts to go into overtime from an almost supernatural fear.

Rebo's consciousness keeps on scouting the area, zipping around and checking for anything of interest in the cave. Scouting really wasn't his thing, and he wasn't even sure what he was looking for, other than maybe another of those demonic looking things.

Zip around here, zip around there, zip around everywhere... Rebo thinks, his bored mind repeating the words on an endless loop.

Startled into full wakefulness by the distant screaming, Gypsy throws off his blanket and leaps to his feet. All around him people are either doing the same, or else huddling under their covers.

As the awful wailing continues, the elven sorcerer silently hopes that the cause isn't what he thinks it is. Facing one of those Demon creatures without the full team was more than he wanted to contemplate. Staying put wasn't going to help the situation any though.

Quickly pulling on his coat and boots, he grabs his small satchel and links up with Slinky before heading swiftly in the direction of the disturbance. As they run, Gypsy roughly pulls his golden hair back in a loose ponytail, then covers his head with his bandanna.

The time that Jack spent in the Cairn was simultaneously enthralling and unsettling. If any of his hair had been longer than a centimeter it would've been standing straight up the entire time. If he hadn't already been halfway in shock, it probably would've turned white too. The info on the chip about the 4th World had been pretty bad, but that had been all shadowtalk, conspiracy spooks bull drekking about elves, Atlantis, and abominations. The inhabitants of the Cairn though, they, and their predecessors had lived through it all. He wished he was back in the sixth world, where the worst he had to worry about was being in the unwilling employ of a dragon, working as a counter-operative against the machinations of Central American blood sorcerers.

At least their were plenty of non-hair raising, bleaching things to keep himself occupied with. Since Dogma decided that they should sit tight for a couple of days, everyone made the best use of the time, trying to learn more about the Cairn, the people, and the world. Learning the language they spoke proved to be an excellent way to occupy his mind. He wondered if it was an ancestor tongue to gaelic, or possible relation to Welsh. It was too bad that all his language chips focused on what he expected to encounter in Denver. He didn't have anything to try and compare it too. The fact that most of what he heard from them were stories about the Horrors, and the terrors of their world were unsettling, but so long as he kept focus on the words themselves, and not on their meaning, it was all right. Getting the feel of the mannerisms and behaviors of the people also occupied his time. The unfamiliar races were also quite preoccupying. Tsknraan and Absidimen, as he heard them. Trying to imitate their voices and bodies gave his disguise skills quite a workout, and proved a great source of amusement to onlookers. Although being followed by curious onlookers made him feel slightly uneasy, it was hard not to be infected by their fascination and amusement with the 'many color man.'

It was unfortunate that his disguise kit was no longer quite as useful. All those memory plastic and metal pieces he had for simulating cyberware weren't very useful anymore, but the air bladders and padding would still be just fine. None of his old wardrobe changes would do him much good, but clothing was also the easiest thing to adapt.

Jack was more than ready to go when Dogma decided to send a recon team up to the surface. It was just to check out what the local situation was like. Rebo would 'going out of his head' and keeping an eye open on the astral plane. As little fondness as he had for magic, he was happy to have the overwatch. If there was anything living between them and the surface, he'd see them first, and unless it was a spirit or dual natured, it would never be the wiser that it'd been scoped.

He saluted Dunkelzahn as they headed out of the Cairn, and pitied all those poor chaps on the carrier about to be consumed. He only had to concentrate for a moment to remember the route down from the surface. Unfortunately, it did them no good for more than four hundred meters. There had been changes between how every many millennia later they'd come from, and now.

Rebo was a big help, able to spy out long sections of tunnels in a couple seconds, and tell them which ones were dead ends, and which looked promising. There was nothing alive in between them and the surface. From the astral plane, Rebo didn't even see anything as alive as lichen. It still took them a long time to get to the surface. Jack was the last one up, going over the map he'd been keeping in his head. When he made it to the cave entrance the compensators in his eyes kicked in to keep the glare down.

This was desolation. Rebo reported nothing living up there. _Absolutely_ nothing living. The place had been stripped down to stone, practically glowing in the glare of the sun, not even a wind stirring across the desolation. The decision was reached that they should wait for nightfall before moving out, and in the meanwhile, Tevos sent out some Watchers to see if there was _anything_ out there.

While everyone else rested inside the mouth of the cave, Jack sat down at on a boulder and stared off into the distance, his skin darkening significantly to absorb the sunlight pounding down on him. He was actually starting to feel kind of good. He found himself rather liking it up here. It was quiet, peaceful. He rather liked this quiet earth.

Gypsy is the first to react to the horrendous screams, after dressing he steps out of his little alcove and pauses long enough to hear the horrific words which indicate that their greatest protector is dead, the Rock Entity that protected the Caern. Waiting for Slinky and Sleel, Gypsy stands as people run past him, deeper into the caves. Some stop as they see Gypsy, realizing that a Chosen One is within their midst, and cower behind him, begging him to protect them from the vile creature which is now roaming their underground city. It takes a few moments of listening to catch on to an obscure fact... apparently they call the creature after a dark emotion, they call it the Hate.

On the surface of the world, things change drastically as the darkness covers the world. What begins as odd looking shadows seen moving on the horizon, begin to get closer, looking more ominous by the passing minute. Shadows seem to crawl along the ground, jumping from one part to the next as if climbing horizontally. Jack sits alone on a boulder some distance from the cave entrance where the others have emerged to watch the setting sun. Within seconds, the sky will be illuminated by nothing other than the stars, for there's not even moonlight available on this night.

The flow of metahumanity rushing in the opposite direction severely impedes Gypsy's progress. Struggling to push his way through the crowd, he notes the small group forming behind him, causing even more of a traffic jam in the chamber.

Pausing, he tries to get the scared Cairn dwellers to move away from the disturbance in an orderly fashion. After several moments of strained and frantic yelling, combined with various hand signals, he finally gets the group moving, but their panic has removed any possibility of an ordered retreat.

Checking that his partner, Slinky is still with him, he turns and once again fights his way through the now-thinning crowd toward the part of the cavern complex containing the entrance and its dead guardian. With more than a little trepidation, the elf ponders what manner of creature it is that earns the name 'The Hate'. Indeed, in this magic-rich environment, what could cause this kind of wide spread panic among the local population.

Jack continued to watch the stillness as day sped on into night. It was so serenely still. There wasn't even a wind strong enough to stir up the dust. The only movement at all were among the shadows, crawling out from beneath rocks and overhangs, stretching long as the sun met the horizon. Icy needles started to prickle along Jack's spine, a tingling running up the back of his scalp. Something was wrong out there. He leaned forward intently, servos spinning in his eyes as he brought the picture into sharper focus and resolution. What was it? There was nothing out there, nothing at all moving but-

-the shadows. He breathed shallowly as he tried to look even closer. All that barren, shapeless rock cast so many shadows. Were they growing to quickly, stretching farther than the sun should allow? Were they all growing in the same direction, or were some stretching, sliding sideways? Was that really a shadow stretching out from a hillock there, or was the hill just a figment of his mind to hide the fact that he was seeing a shadow attached to nothing? Tevos' words suddenly came crashing back to his ears, "the land is barren for miles, it wasn't until they reached the next island that life was found." Jack felt his body lock up in horror as realization finally caught up with him. Although there was nothing out there, they were not alone. And night was upon them. "Rebo, Tevos," Jack whispered, his throat almost too tight to speak. His hands were shaking so hard they rattled against the stone. He tried to stand but his legs wouldn't support him. He clawed against the stone, dragging himself back towards the rest. He didn't dare look behind him, because he knew the shadows were reaching out for him, sharpening into the claws of Horrors. His frenzied scrambling knocked his radio against a rock, turning it back on. His throat might have been clenched too tightly to speak, but his transducer suffered no such affliction. They're coming! They're comingthey'recomingthey'recomingthey'recomingTHEY'RECOMING!!!

Gypsy is the first to see it, as Slinky and Sleel prepare their gear to emerge. First it's just a more frantic screaming and fleeting around him, as those between him and it enter a fear frenzy. Then it comes around the corner and a lump is caught in Gypsy's throat. The creature stands a little more than 2 meters in height, with the shape of a man. However, instead of arms, coming out of his back, attached to its spines are 8 arms, 4 on each side. There are no hands only talon-shaped pincers which dual-hold 4 swords. The swords are sickening, the base of the blade is nearly a meter in width, and the length of each is longer than the creature holding it. He approaches those who have fallen in fear, picking them up with a hand and plunging at least 2 swords into them. In addition to the physical damage caused by 2 large objects penetrating the flesh, something supernatural also happens. The bodies wither into shriveled flesh, appearing as little more than flesh on bone. Gypsy can actually see the souls of the creatures sucked into the blades through his aura perception.

Meanwhile on the surface, the shadows spook Jack into rushing headlong towards the rest of the team who immediately begin taking up defensive positions in a circle. Weapons are pulled and minds are cleared for spells as the shadows drift lazily closer to the group of defenders. Swooshing sounds are heard as the shadows fly past in predatorial circles. Nothing physical is actually seen or felt, only the air of passage, and the dark shadows which now plague the team members who attempt to hold their ground.

Dogma sat around the cave, like the rest of his crew. With not much to do in the blazing heat, the team was basically relaxing, as best they could in this strange place, anyway. For his part, the elf was looking through the logs his crew had taken of the cavern. Images, samples, notes. Dogma consumed information like food. He always needed more. More to learn, more to trade.

His attention prediodically drifted away from the p-secs he read.

Time travel.

He figured it was possible to go forward in time. If you removed yourself from time, like with deep cryostasis or maybe magic, you could awake and be in 'the future', without having noticed the passing time. So it would be time travel to you.

But going backwards, that screwed the pooch. Time was suddently not linear. That meant a whole lot. Then again, Dogma kept reflecting, maybe this was just a metaplane. There's no reason why a metaplne could not take on the aspect of a distant past, complete with obeying laws of physics.

But if this were true, maybe earth, that is to say, his earth, his time, was also a metaplane. His friend, hermetic Soror Mystika, would have said it didn't matter, as we merely perceive reality through our woefully innadequate senses of perception, all matter is merely energy condensed to a slow vibration and life is but a dream. Hermetics had interesting ideas, sometimes.

Dogma wondered what Gypsy was up to right now.

The elf team leader went back to his slow lecture of the data retreived, going over the same file he'd been reading for the past hour. The sun was coming down, but the p-sec provided it's own illumination.

Dogma suddently felt a chilly sensation. Something wasn't quite right. He looked around. He felt like a child afraid of the dark, all of a sudden. It was irrationnal, there was no cause, but he felt totally uneasy.

Looking over his crew, he noticed he wasn't the only one. Eyes fixated to where the light was. No one wanted to look out into the dark.

Dogma looked out of the corner of his eye into the coming darkness, like he was afraid to make eye contact with... whatever. He was a child again, in his bed, with the cover over his head, hoping that if he didn't see them, the monsters wouldn't see him.

But the monsters did see him.

They're coming! They're comingthey'recomingthey'recomingthey'recomingTHEY'RECOMING!!!

Everyone was moving now, but no one knew what to do. Some looked overhead and saw flying shadows, fear incarnate.

Dogma had never been more scared in his life. Nothing could really phase him much, having lived in the shadowy underworld of Denver most of his life, he knew the monsters of life well. In fact, he traded with them. But this darkness had no reason. No goals. Just terror.

"Back in the cave, form a perimeter! Don't let them in!" Dogma didn't have to shout, the transducer comm would have been faster and more efficient. But he couldn't help himself.

Tevos sat up against the cave wall, enjoying the warmth of the setting sun. While the vast desolation had its own disturbing qualities, it was soothing at the same time. Had its own meditative groove.

The news of settlements on what would eventually be mainland Great Britain was somewhat reassuring, at least there are other people around, and perhaps these horrors are still restricted to this island. Pity there aren’t any trees, or rope, or anything what so ever to make a raft out of.

The sky spirit returns with the same news, and Tev dismisses it shortly before the sun finishes setting. The massive burning ball of the sun casts long shadows, turning the partly cloudy sky brilliant shades of reds and pinks. It was calm enough to let him forget the horrors of the week before, just live in the here and now. So much so that Tev was starting to doze off in one of the last rays of sun when the ear piece on his shoulder screeched to life They're coming! They're comingthey'recomingthey'recomingthey'recomingTHEY'RECOMING!!!.

Tevs mind took off like a high-powered sports car on cheap tires. He just spun in place for a second, the descriptions and images of what these beasts of hell could do to someone poring into his mind.

Dogma yelling snapped him out of the momentary trance; raw terror took hold in a New York minute.

“Jesug fras on a strrick” so startled, confused and flat out terrified he couldn’t even curse correctly. He scrambled to his feet falling in next to Jack , half expecting the walls to start running blood.

Gotta think, gotta think, chill, FRAGGIN CHILL. Cave, rocks, mumum mountain domain. Gun, RUN, no no, not yet. Tevs mind was going faster then he could keep track of, all the while fighting the urge to, Run The Frag Away.

Rebo keeps scouting the rocks, screwing around and still finding nothing. Tired of the boring duty, he rejoins Jack and shifts his aural form so he's visible and audible.

"Hey, think we can get back now?" he asks.

No reply.

"Uh, hello? What are you staring at?"

Rebo turns...and see what's caught Jack's attention.

Oh SHIT!

"Jack! Jack, I gotta get back to the Cairn; my psi power has nearly run dry. I can get back to the Cairn in no time; will you be ok on your own?"

Sleel leaps up when he hears the screaming. Taking time to plug into his remote, he has to run to the drones to physically turn them on before he can begin issueing them orders. Having turned on only the two gunthers, he begins running after Gypsy, having the drones fly over everyones head at a blur. Once he sees the thing on his sensors, he pulls the drones back, hovering near and above Gypsy, attempting to give him some backup against.... whatever the frag this thing is. Meanwhile, he checks his armament. Knowing that he can't risk hurting the cairn dwellers with the grenade launcher, he takes his splat gun with him as he sprints after his drones and Gypsy.

Pain rips through the Astral form of Rebo, as the first of the shadow creatures flies past him. Astral perception shows that a small funnel like shape formed between Rebo and the Shadow entity, sipping a bit of the astral energy from Rebo's form. Rebo tries to flee but finds that everytime his astral form moves, another shadow creature takes a sip of astral energy from his body creating another intense feeling of pain. Everyone can see the pain Rebo goes through as he becomes trapped by the shadow entities, even the mundanes can see the astral energy being siphoned out of Rebo due to his taking on the visible manifestation. Dogma takes a position with the others, feeling like a fish out of water, or perhaps rather like someone who finds the ground pulled out from under him in a pool of water.

Tevos quickly brings a Greater Mountain Spirit to bear, although he does look fatigued from the effort. Immediately the greater spirit roars as the shadow creatures begin attacking it as well, the energy being siphoned from it causes it to enter a berserk rage which causes the whole mountain to begin trembling as if there were an earthquake. Visciously it attacks the shadow things, slamming it's astral fists into the ground as it obliterates 1, then another of the Shadow creatures. Each slamming causes more of the earth to tremble and craters to form where the astral being slammed into the ground. Most of this goes unseen by the mundanes in the group though, causing the effect of huge craters suddenly forming on the trmebling earth to appear most mystical in nature.

In the caves below the 2 drones hover over the head of Gypsy, getting a lock on the 8 armed abomination that lunges in the team's direction. The swords never stop moving as it mows down more and more of the inhabitants of the cave, regardless of age or race. Before Gypsy's eyes, a young girl barely 8 years of age is sliced in half, her corpse withering immediately as the soul energy from her body is sucked into the blade that disemboweled her.

Dammit! Can't run, and pyrokinesis doesn't work on the aural...

"Only one thing I can do..." Rebo says, charging at the nearest shadow being, his fists raised.

A loud war cry echoes from Rebo as he suicide-rushes the shade-being...

Slinky starts awake at the screams that bring back echoes of the Azzie ambush that took her arms. She rolls onto her feet, grabbing the blankets and ripping them aside. She catches Gypsy’s eyes and notes the surprise and fear on the elf’s face as he turns and sprints off toward the sounds, gearing up with his coat and do-rag. She tries to keep up with him and sees Sleel’s drones float up eerily over the rushing crowd that is pouring past Gypsy.

She tries to push her way through the crowd to her buddy and sees Sleel’s drones up above surge forward and then suddenly pull back, hovering over Gypsy. What? What is it? She jumps up, trying to see past the thick press of bodies, most of whom are significantly taller than she. Grunting in frustration, she scales a nearby column of knobby cavern rock and looks across the sea of moving panicked bodies, getting a feel for the movement of the crowd of Cairn Dwellers - that’s what Gypsy’d been calling them, a bunch cooler than 'Cave Dwellers' in Slinky’s opinion - as she plans to ‘walk’ their heads and shoulders to reach the pale-haired elf. Shifting her weight to make a move she takes a last glance up, brow furrowing… The rocky guys may be a – oh. Slinky’s eyes fall on the eight-armed monster. Images from mythology texts flicker unbidden into Slinky’s mind. Oh.

It’s eating souls.

Of course.

She swallows, clinging desperately to her perch, trying to focus on getting to Gypsy. She pushes the maddening images of the beast away. She wished with all her might that Jack’s crack that they’d stumbled onto the set of “Karl Kombat Mage” was true. She swallowed again and stepped out onto the flowing mass of panic.

"Fraggin' hell!"

Gypsy stops dead in his tracks as he first catches sight of the intruder. The hideous vision freezes him in place, waves of panic threatening to incapacitate the sorcerer. The instinct to turn around and follow the recklessly fleeing Cairn dwellers is very nearly overwhelming. Nothing in all the data he had read, the stories he had been told, or even in the wildest reaches of his imagination could have prepared him for such an abhorrent monstrosity.

Frantically fighting the nausea invoked by the horrific scene, Gypsy vainly attempts to collect his thoughts into some semblance of logical order. Strangely, uppermost in his mind is the fact that he no longer needs to wonder about the origin of the beast's unusual name.

Acting purely on instinct alone, the slender elf takes a halting step backward as his fingers go through a series of complex motions, culminating in the forward thrust of his right hand. Holding nothing back, Gypsy gathers every last bit of mana available to him as he releases his most powerful offensive spell.

Dogma catches the twisted expression of pain on Rebo's astral face. Perhaps because Astral entities are not limited by muscles when they manifest, perhaps it's just the terror of the whole situation, but the expression that Rebo makes will remain engraved in Dogma's enhanced memory for the rest of his life. More so even than any other horror he has seen here. They say memory does strange things during combat situations. In any case, Rebo's open jaw and wide eyes, his deformed half-visible cry of pain, engraves itself in the elf's memory.

Then the elf loses control. Stepping up over a large rock, he stands out as dark shadows hurl themselves like rockets in the darkened sky and shards of stone go flying at the enraged Mountain Spirit cause artillery-like effects around the cavern mouth.

"AAAARRR!!! APO PANTHOS KAKODEIMONOS!!" screams Dogma at one of the dark spirits spiraling overhead, reciting a basic hermetic banishing mantra, fuelled by raw anger coming from dealing with combat stress.

Rebo, in a fit of panic first tries to flee the horrible scene, his soul begging for a return to its body where it could recuperate from the damage done, but the spirits hold him off, preventing the exodus. Suddenly, amidst the panic the words "Apo Panthos Kakodeimonos" is heard over the fear, clarity is achieved at the sight of a giant of a spirit battling the shades, and Dogma himself, a mundane, attempting to battle the shades with his bare hands. They would go down fighting, of that there was no doubt at all, there was no way Rebo would go down trying to flee. With a nanosecond of hesitation, Rebo turns and frenzies on the shades around him, causing them to pull back. The majority of the shades had already maneuvered to handle the real threat, the giant spirit of the mountain, but pulled off to consider where the real threat lie, giving reprise for a few seconds. Back to back the Earth Spirit stood with Rebo, preparing for a 2nd assault as Dogma continued to bat at the air with his fists. It's at this precise moment that Lindt realizes something wierd happening to his Mountain Spirit, the spirit is beginning to turn into a shade, the edges of its aura is already turning black as it battles the spirits.

Lindt:

Others on the surface:

Meanwhile in the Caern below, the abomination slices through the last of the people fleeing or cowering between it and the team joined together. No longer are there throngs of people between you and the creature. It's time to either flee like the rest or make a last stand and die like heroes. The creature raises its 8 arms, and lets out a roar which causes the bottom part of its jaw to drop forward like the mandibles of a spider. It prepares to strip each of your souls from your corpses. As it lunges forward, a force of astral energy slams into it, causing it to pause for a moment. It seems almost confused, standing there, arms wide open as the astral residue slips past its body.
Fortune:

Able to look at the Hate more in depth with his drones, Sleel slows to a stop a few feet behind Gypsy. He looks down at the splat gun in his hand, before sliding it back in his backpack... Right, I'll just glue it down to the floor and then it'll leave us alone... When he sees it pause, he realizes that Gypsy must be trying something, and could probably use some time. Sleel gives the order to let the lead fly.

Slinky looks at the withered husks and dust of the bodies in Hate’s wake. Her gorge rises and she swallows bile. Gypsy slings a spell, and though she knows there aren’t any scorchers in the caster’s repertoire she takes advantage of the split second that the monster falters. She gauges the distance she can close and the angle of the Gunther’s fire and moves into range grapple range of the blade-swinging behemoth. She is surprised to feel something more than bitter digestive enzymes burning in her chest. Something much more. Fury – righteous burning fury at the pure wrong of the thing rampaging without care through the caves. She bares her teeth and with a nod to Gypsy circles around the far side of the creature. Energy crackles over her knuckles as she strips off her gloves and throws them aside. No pithy monologue springs to her mind. No catchy phrases to rattle off like Sleel’s automated gunfire. She takes a turn around a column of rock and, from cover, fires her right hand at the monster.

Eyes widening momentarily in surprise, Gypsy unconsciously takes another step backwards as he watches the many-armed nightmare creature shrug off his spell. His meagre hold on the panic rising in side of him slips slightly as he wracks his brain for a course of action that might be effective.

At that moment, his two companions join the fight. Sleel's drones cut loose with a hail of lead, while the rigger's sister, Slinky attacks from the flank with one of her strange, limb-based weapons.

Taking the opportunity that this double distraction gives him, the elven sorcerer interlinks his fingers and holds his hands up in a warding gesture as he quickly casts a glowing spell of protection around his body.