Mendean waited a while for Liam to use the tinderbox. He was eager to move on into the darkness of the strange twisted wreck. His own highly-honed senses told him something was not right about this place. It tasted older than it should. After all, it had come through one of the many rifts created during the Timedeath crisis. And yet…there was something very wrong here. Something had happened that had been worse than the crash, but what that might be was not yet apparent.

He had to agree with Liam's observation. There was little to smell beyond the dust. It had been little over a month since the Timedeath crisis. Even if everyone had died on board, right at the start of events, the smell of decaying corpses would have certainly been evident, even in this arid climate. But as he ran a finger over a brass wall fitting, his finger came back with a thick layer of greyish-yellow dust.

“I don't know. I have been following trails, wisps and suggestions, hints and intimations. The warp and weft of the world have been severely damaged by the recent crisis of time. Many parts of Revaliir are unstable. Fragments of other worlds, other times poking through. I have followed the paths. The winding spirals of madness that make up the collective reality we call home. They led me here, to this region. But then the trail goes cold. If I am to pick up the scent again, I must carefully examine what I…what we find here. If my friend is not here, then I hope to find clues that may lead me to where he truly is.”

Casting a sidelong glance at the other man, Mendean realised that perhaps he had given away too much of his nature. He said nothing more, preferring instead to wander off ahead, not bothered by the darkness that seemed to swallow him. It was cramped in here, yet cool. A gentle breeze stirred the dust, causing something to catch the young god's eye. A shape, more irregular than the other mechanical forms surrounding them. As Liam's light caught the object, it glittered. Tiny metallic scales reflecting the light.

The shape seemed to be protruding from the darkness. A tiny appendage belonging to something larger. Something man-sized. As Mendean drew nearer, he saw that he was entering a small alcove in the corridor. Within it, a figure slumped in a metallic chair. The glittering came off a gauntlet of some kind. Squatting down, he brushed the strange fabric, feeling skeletal fingers within. As the light came closer, the whole figure was revealed to be encased in the odd material. A fabric coated in wafer-thin metal foil platelets. Each one a perfectly polished square. In the hood of the figure there grinned a skull. Wisps of white hair seemingly glued across the left eye. “What manner of clothing is this?” whispered Mendean.

One thing was clear. The figure had been dead for a long time. A very long time. Someone had strapped it into the seat, which was probably why it had not shattered in the crash. But that made no sense. This skeleton was devoid of any flesh. Not even traces. For that to have happened, it would have had to have been dead for many years.

“The skeleton is human. And it's been dead for a very long time. Longer even than this ship has been in existence. At least, that is how it appears.” He looked up at Liam, eyes glittering intensely in the dark. “More mysteries.”

He nodded at the explanation of the time crisis, Liam had been learning quietly about what had happened.  "I came through one of those holes.  This place was different in a lot of ways, but still kind of the same.  Enough for me to be comfortable, anyway.  If you can give me an idea, I can help you find clues.  Anything strange, I'd guess?" he asked.  There were already quite a few strange things about this crashed ship already, but Liam knew that other things tended to stand out.  When Mendean wandered off, Liam chose a slightly different direction, though close enough that he could still hear his companion's footfalls.  When he paused, Liam's eyes turned back, and he carefully found his way to where the figure sat contained in the chair.

The clothing was strange, nothing he had ever seen before.  "Is it armor?  It looks too… pristine for that though, no dents in it," he said, puzzled.  Could it be some kind of garb specific to the people who had been on the ship?  When Mendean asserted the body was older than the ship, Liam's brow furrowed, trying to figure out just what might be going on here.  "Y'know, I've heard stories where some cultures keep a body because they think it's a holy artifact of some kind.  Maybe it's that?" he suggested.  Perhaps the strange clothes were some kind of holy garb.  But he could also be entirely wrong. 

Moving away from Mendean, Liam caught sight of something else glimmering in the dark.  It was not a metallic color, but iridescent.  He picked up a wand of some kind of crystal from the thick dust, and it was chased in what looked to be the same metal as the strange fabric.  But there was something else under the wand.  "I think this belonged to the people here.  But this ring… it looks like it's from somewhere else," he said, showing them both to his companion.  Perhaps one was a sign of whomever Mendean was seeking.

Mendean coughed as he rose fully to his feet. He was well-aware that the dust was mostly what was left of the dessicated corpses in the crashed vessel, but there was little he could do about it. The innards of the vessel were silent; eerily so. Every rustle of cloth, every footfall seemed too close. The atmosphere was claustrophobic here in this place where the corridors were more like narrow tunnels through a mountain of crushed metal.

Peering over at what his companion had found, the god pursed his lips. A wand. Perhaps a control rod for some magical engine reduced to worthless junk by the effects of the dead zone here. Perhaps an ornamental item, or symbol of office. Or perhaps a magic wand that again was useless in the Siva Zemlyst.

Then there was the ring. What were these obviously valuable objects doing here? He would have expected items of value to be clutched in bony hands. A last act of attachment to material possessions as the mind lost rationality in the face of imminent death.

And how had these people died? He had an uneasy feeling about that. The age of the corpses did not match the apparent age of the broken vessel. Not at all. There should have been evidence of severe corrosion in the metals. The environment was not anaerobic enough to preserve metal for hundreds of years. And even if the vessel had arrived from somewhere that was, it did not explain the condition of the men and women who had crewed it.

Leaning in, the god could see that Liam was right. The ring was flat at the top, with a symbol in a language he did not recognise, embossed in some kind of translucent dark green stone. But the metal…it was not a metal he had seen anywhere else on the airship thus far. But it was a metal he was familiar with. Reaching out to touch the ring, Mendean's fingers hesitated, then withdrew. He did not need to feel the silvery metal to know exactly what it was. Silvery, flawless, perfect. Too perfect.

“Oenerium,” Mendean breathed, almost in a whisper. “Dream metal. A metal that cannot be mined in the real world. Only in that of…” The god fell silent, a churning sensation in his stomach. Suddenly he had an inkling of what fate had befallen the alien crew and he turned around to study the seated figure.

When he spoke next, his voice was stronger, more certain. “These corpses are not ancient. If I were to hazard a guess, I would say something had drained them of their life force.”

Crouching low in the dusty interior, Liam was trying to put the pieces together.  The metal had an oddly familiar name, something he had heard his mother speak of, but only once and from somewhere now far away.  Shaking his head for a moment, his amber eyes drifted over the rest of the ship.  "So… we have metal that should not even be in this realm.  I would imagine something like that is very tightly controlled.  And something like this, with the stone in it, maybe a key of some kind?" he suggested.  Liam had but a rudimentary understanding of just how magical objects worked, but he knew enough to make an educated guess.

And he had heard of magics and creatures that could drain the life from other beings.  A sudden thought came to mind.  "Do.. do y'think whatever did this is still here?  I wonder if that's what twisted the ship around too…" he mused, looking around quickly.  The young man was still listening for the sound of anything besides the two of them.  He could only hear their breathing, and Liam was feeling deeply unsettled.  This seemed like a prime place to be haunted, and they still hadn't seen anything of the man that Mendean was looking for.

Examining the wand for a moment, he looked around for what it might belong to.  "I wonder what this did.  I guess we won't ever know, I don't see any way of moving this whole ship out of the deadzone though," Liam added, sounding disappointed. 

Staring at the oenerium ring, Mendean said nothing for some time as he contemplated the implications. Being here in a dead zone inhibited his thought processes, as well as his senses. But he knew and understood enough to feel unsettled in his gut.

After an age had passed, Mendean squatted, tracing a line in the dust with a pale fingertip. The line curved and curled into an idle spiral. He watched it as though it might suddenly spring to life, but it was just a mark in the dust. “Whatever did this presumably used magic to take their lives. It is likely arriving in a dead zone probably made all that power useless. It certainly would not have been capable of feeding out here. If it is close-by, it cannot harm us by taking our life essences.” He looked up at Liam. “Perhaps it will starve to death before it can escape the zone?”

The god shrugged to himself and made a lopsided half-smile. It was clear from his expression that he doubted very much the creature had starved. Fate was rarely so kind in circumstances like these.

But what did that mean for the one whom he had been trailing? Was he a surviving crew member? Was he the monster that had eaten all the rest? Or was he connected in some other way they had yet to discern? For every answer, more questions were always waiting just beneath the latest overturned stone. It frustrated and intrigued him, both at the same time.

Looking again at the wand, Mendean shrugged again. “Whatever its purpose, it won't work out here.” He sighed and stood up with a grunt. “I think we have seen all we're going to see here. Maybe there was a cargo hold, luggage room or something? That might tell us more.” He glanced around, pointing to a recess. “There. I think it's a stairwell. That'll take us deeper in.” A devilish look from the god. “Not claustrophobic are you?”

He understand enough of the pieces that he knew that could be in very real trouble.  Even if they were careful, it was likely he and Mendean could find some very ugly answers.  But Mendean did make a good suggestion, though his mind went another direction.  "Probably still has nasty big pointy teeth.  Think it's something that looks harmless, like a little bunny rabbit?" he asked, a slight grin on his face.  Surely it would have to be some kind of innocuous looking creature to have gotten aboard the ship in the first place.  Or it was something that had come aboard after. 

But why?  There were too many questions, and even Mendean didn't seem to know what the answers were.  But he wasn't willing to leave just yet, there was still someone to find.  "Might as well.  And I'm used to small places… used to go cave crawling when I was little.  Less mud this time I think though," he said with a chuckle.  The only thing he worried about was the torch, and how much light it would shed the further down they got.  A thought occurred to him, and Liam stopped for a moment.  Gingerly, he lit the lantern he had just bought days ago.  It was a delicate construct of iron and glass, but it would be better in smaller spaces than the large torch.  The trade off was less light, but he wasn't too worried.

Down they went, and Liam tried to watch for anything strange.  But there was just so much dust and debris, he found himself watching his step more than anything.  But after a few stories of climbing, the stairway opened into a large room of some kind.  But Liam couldn't make heads or tails of anything in it.  There were large metal pipes and glass tubes all around.  But strangest of all were the large leather bags, and a very gentle hissing noise that seemed to permeate the entire room.  "Is it just me, or the does the air seem… weird in here?  I can't put a finger on it," he asked, sounding puzzled.  This whole room made no sense to Liam.

“There are no rabbits in the Siva Zemlyst, nor in Parvpora.” Said Mendean almost absent-mindedly. He waited while Liam lit the lantern, admiring the craftsmanship that had produced such a thing. That glass must have been expensive. This Liam was clearly not without means. Mendean wondered what the estate he came from must be like, then dismissed the thought and followed the man.

The stairs were a mixture of brass grille and some kind of sturdy flexible wood. The grain was reddish and well-varnished. The patterning of the wood reminded him of walnut, but that would have been an impractical material to carve into long stair rods. It must come from a tree that existed only in the other world. He was certain by now that was where the airship must have originated. He touched the wall. No sensation of deja vu that he had experienced whenever in contact with something from another time. With divine senses he could tell everything about this vehicle was alien. It vibrated in a manner that instinctively felt wrong to him. Like the worlds he had encountered in the tunnel he was building via the Nexus.

Upon entering the chamber wherein he had expected to find dead crystals and flat sigils carved into now-lifeless stone, the god stopped on the last step and stared. A fortune in metal piping, glass tubes and mechanical objects that would have defied the understanding of many of the greatest minds of Revaliir. This was nothing like the central core of a Revaliir airship. No sign of a Pranic modulation valve, Chi regulator or even a chimaeric resonator. Nothing in this place matched his understanding of alchemical engineering even slightly. He rolled back on his heels, then stepped onto the floor of the chamber.

Pipes lay broken. There were fragments of glass everywhere. Some kind of oil had formed an impromptu slick across the floor. Squatting, Mendean gingerly touched the oil with a forefinger, holding it up to the pale lantern light for closer examination. It was certainly oil, but even after sniffing he could not recognise the plant it had come from. He wiped his finger against a thigh and stood, glass crunching beneath his boots. “I do not understand this place, and I do not like the look of those bladders,” Mendean said, indicating the leather sacks. Several seemed to have deflated. Containers of gas perhaps? But what kind?

“I am concerned about the smell too,” he addressed Liam with an edge to his voice. “I think perhaps we should…” A terrible screeching rent the air as a metal strut fell from the ceiling, no doubt dislodged from the ceiling by the subtle vibrations made by the two men's footsteps. Sparks as the strut slid down a metallic wall. If the gas was flammable…

“Run! Now!”

The stairs seemed steady enough, which was a good thing.  The last thing that Liam wanted to deal with was the stairs breaking in the middle of their exploring.  Especially given the disheveled state of the room they had just found. Glancing at Mendean, he figured that his companion didn't have too much of an idea of what was happening here either.  And he found that worrisome.  Liam just watched for a few moments, waiting for him to speak, seeing if there was any sense of recognition of what this chamber was for.  But too little of it made sense.

At least they were thinking along the same lines, and he nodded.  They looked somehow fragile, perhaps that was a part of what had brought the ship down?  "Maybe the combination of whatever warped the ship, and whatever in those helped bring the ship down.  Too many things at once," he reasoned out.  One thing would have been trouble, but enough to work through.  But a combination of factions seemed more likely in bringing down an airship of this size.  The ship was complicated as far as he could tell, and Liam doubted that a single factor would have brought it down.

But all those trains of thought halted at the screeching noise, and he didn't even bother to argue.  Sprinting for the stairs, Liam took them two and three at a time.  But even in their frantic flight, he still noticed something that seemed out of place.  He managed to snatch the scarf off its hook without breaking his stride, and a soft whoom noise behind them only hastened his steps.  He made for the opening they had climbed through, and Liam hurled himself through it without a second thought.  Tucking his limbs into his torso, he landed in soft sand and rolled a bit.  Mendean soon followed, along with a long gout of flame through the opening.  It was quite hot, and Liam had a feeling they would have both been roasted alive at they been any slower.

"Damn… lantern got cracked," he grumbled, looking at the glass.  Liam examined it for a moment, then set it on the sand.  He would worry about getting the glass panels fixed later.  then he pulled out the scarf from under his shirt where he had tucked it for safety.  "This look like anything your friend might have worn?  Saw it on the way out, seemed out of place to the rest of the ship," Liam said, sprawling out on the sand to catch his breath.