Left to her own devices, she continued deeper. Frostbite nipped at the edges of her skin, but she continued to press on. As her foot rested on a piece of the stonework, she heard a click and began to run. Behind her, the metallic chorus of spears and spikes activated in rhythm creating an encroaching trail of death. "No no no!" She screamed, forcing her legs to move faster. As she felt the muscles in her legs burn as if someone had set a fire from the inside, she collapsed onto the ground as the line of death ended inches away. Wheezing and gasping for air, whatever stamina that had been restored by food or rest was now completely spent. Her limbs seized up from their exertion, and she was left vulnerable. Fumbling with her hands, she dragged out her sword and attempted to stand up. Every fiber of her being was aching, and she couldn't feel any warmth in them. Now here she was, alone and lost in a frozen labyrinth with no way to go but forward. Fear seeped in at the fringes of her mind, and she thought she would surely die here in this icy tomb.

For an indeterminate amount of time, she blacked out. Shiloh didn't realize it but she was now within reach of the great foyer within the Vault, its location obscured by a few twists and turns in the passages. Time passed, and she eventually regained consciousness. The cold had started to reach deep into her bones, and walking was more labored. Making it to warmth at last, she slumped onto the floor. The eerie lights from the torch sconces and roaring fireplace washed the entire area in a cold glow, much like the entire region. Though her body was slowly recovering, she could feel the magic of the cursed ruin eat away at her sanity. Like creeping frost, like a spreading sickness it tried to worm its way in. She fought back, fervently. No, she could not–would not succumb either to death or to madness like the others. She thought to herself, 'I will not die here.' But the cruelty of fate had more yet in store for her. Without more than a moment of respite, she soon found herself facing the enemy.

Twisted faces infected by avarice and paranoia were on the collective of goblins, orcs, and scavengers. She sliced, she cleaved, she fought tooth and nail. When a stray blade found its way into her side, her nerves were set ablaze with pain. At that moment she unleashed all the darkness she had bottled up within like a geyser blasting through to the surface. A bloodcurdling shriek echoed through the foyer as thousands of grasping hands and arms emerged from the darkness and tore into those possessed by the Vault's sinister enchantment. Her outburst cut a swath of destruction through the hordes sickened by greed, leaving glassy-eyed shells of treasure-hunters in its wake. Finally, she crumpled onto the floor in the middle of the mess. Her wound was no longer bleeding as much as before, but the loss of blood was the last straw that broke her. Silence fell over the chamber again. There she lay, unconscious and waiting for the next adventurers to find. 

   

Eventually, Vicyeth flopped her way closer to Shiloh's location with a small puddle of water. "YES! need more WATERS!"  After hearing the goblin she summoned enough water to form a wave she could ride over the solid floor and this wave ended near shiloh. Fortunatly for her, Vicyeth was too stupid to even remember that Shiloh could be hostile and began using her water magic to heal her. She threw some water on the wound and used a spell to quickly let the flesh regenerate, she even controlled the water to have it end up back in her body before shutting the wound wich took more knowledge then you'd expect from the same woman who flopped on the ground like a fish on land… This was something Vicyeth was really good at: Healing. She had Shiloh ready to go in just seconds really.

Gnok Nok followed the path of the others in so far that he came upon the crazed charger that had been slammed so fervently to the ground. Gnok saw the almost pitiable lunatic with a wild stare. An idea was forming but Gnok was not much for waiting on his thoughts to make sense before impulse took action. The Goblin Druid heeded natures essence and nature always moves forward.

Still Gnok was wise regardless his roots. He needed information and his goblin instinct loved treasure. He almost knelt placing his fingers to the ground. His almost lime natural eye color turning a darker shade. Powerfull lush green roots wrapped towards the crazy filthy human to entangle it from escape. Gnok smiled at the creature as a drop of sweat formed at his brow. " You tell me bout shiny treasure, dis places, and who you is being. Duh Great Gnok Nok Demands to be knowing."

The crazed man stared back at the goblin druid and cackled, dried spittle at the corners of his mouth. "AHAHAHAHA!!! Why should I, ya little green bugger?! You think I'm gonna just spill the beans on a dragon's hoard to some wart?!!" The man spat at the ground and continued laughing madly. The greed had already consumed him, and was no more than a walking shell possessed by it. There were many more like him in the Vault, but it was all clear that there was something sinister in the air. In the foyer Shiloh was still unconscious from the mental exhaustion. Unfortunately the same couldn't be said for the rest of the lifeless bodies of plunderers cluttering the floor. None of them had any visible wounds, but shared the same glassy-eyed gaze of the deceased. 

Vicyeth sat down on the ground next to Shiloh. She was not smart enough to see that she still needed help. The spirits watching over her were smart enough but didnt have the correct spells to help her.