Getting out of the house back to the tunnels was the safer idea. With the place clearly structurally unstable she'd rather take chances of a cave in within the mine shafts than the ruined building. But the thought that a building was down here meant there might be more similar buried structures, or even portions of the lost kingdom further below. Niall was now awake and was having fun playing with the things they collected so far. "Let's camp…" It was unanimous, they were all worn out from nearly losing Auron back there. The undead hadn't shown up for a while so they had time to spare. Now would be a good time to sleep while things were still peaceful. Niall was no longer dozing, so she put him on guard duty. If anything strange happened he had to wake her up right away. Closing her eyes, she felt the heaviness that had been hanging around her up to now settle.

Sleep came more quickly than she thought. Tired as she was, the first portion was blackness. No thoughts, no dreams. In the rare moment where her entire being was relaxed, it was like sinking into something comfortable. Drifting like that for a long time, the images came again. This time it was slower, less sudden. Images of a beautiful kingdom high on the mountains, their rich mines bearing ore and gemstones down below. The blurred shapes of a man with a crown and his daughter, and a towering figure who demanded her as his right. Scenes of the same daughter with someone else, similar to the towering figure but different. Roaring echoes of rage at being refused, and a terrible disaster that caused the outlined form of the gleaming kingdom to fall down into the dark. Ruins and silence were left, and with the passing of time the area became overgrown and more broken down. And last but not least, the image of the mighty figure being cast down into the ruins he had poured out his destruction upon. This was the fate of all who forgot or abandoned their duty as a deity–to be thrown out and forgotten.

She mulled over the dreams for some time, even after no longer being asleep. So that was why this place fell into ruin. It was a somber reminder of the realities of godhood, a very important reminder of mistakes that should never be repeated. The warm smell of coffee pulled her out to open her eyes. Nerine had set up a pot which was now cooling off. Cooking was one of the few comforts one could have living on the road, and she couldn't have gotten up at a better time. "Oh you're awake! The coffee's ready, do you want some?" She hesitated before nodding. "It's still a little hot, so be careful not to burn your tongue." The blonde woman added. "That's fine. I don't want to drink it, I just want to hold it for a while." The metal mug resting between her hands, she watched as the wisps of steam rose up from the liquid's surface to warm her face. Staring into the rich dark liquid, there was something almost therapeutic about the warmth and the smell. She tried coffee once, even for someone whose taste preferences were bitter she didn't like it. The smell was the best part. She wasn't in a rush to continue exploring. Maybe after a meal and some thinking, then they could try the other tunnel at the fork.

At last they were slowing down. From the beginning things had felt so rushed, too tense for his liking. Constantly looking for the next pitfall or danger was wearing them all down. Personally taking a more leisurely pace was more of his style, after all whatever they were looking for wasn't going anywhere. Even he had good ideas every now and then. Shiloh finally went to sleep, and immediately sank against the ground with her head using her pack as a pillow. Nerine decided it was time they had something to eat, and started a pot of water for some coffee to keep them alert and their spirits high. After assisting with lighting the fire, he sat across from Shiloh while Niall was sniffing the walls and floor. In the brief time he had known her, he rarely saw her being so still. She would fidget when she sat, shift positions, even move around in her chair. He was beginning to doubt if gods even needed to sleep until now. "Shiloh." When he received no response, he came over and checked to see if she was really asleep. Carefully, he blew in her ear. When he wasn't sent flying across the tunnel, he was sure she was out cold. Niall scuttled over to see what he was up to. "She must be exhausted. I'm surprised that she didn't show it until now." 

The ferret climbed onto his leg and laid himself flat over his knee while looking at him with a tilted head. "She's good at not expressing stuff unless she thinks she has to. It saves her energy." Auron raised an eyebrow. "Is that so? She even counts emotions by energy cost?" He knew she was laconic and poker-faced, but this was on an entirely different level. "Ayup." The ferret answered, rolling onto his back exposing his belly. Reflexively Auron began to scratch the animal's fur, earning low chuckling noises from Niall. "Am I tickling you?" He asked. Niall shook his head. "Nope, don't stop! That feels good!" The ferret laid there enjoying the massage and scratches until his owner started waking up. Sliding off his leg, the ferret bounded over to Shiloh, poking his face up against hers. She picked him up and put him around her neck, and he curled up dangling like a very short stole.

"No Niall, you can't drink the coffee." She said, holding the steaming mug away from the ferret's eager nose. "But I won't get sick! Please? It smells so good!" Still holding it out of his reach, his owner still refused. "It might smell good, but it tastes bitter. Do you still want to drink it?" Niall thought for a while. "…Ok." Letting Nerine have the cooled untouched mug of coffee, they started preparations to cook. Actually Shiloh and Nerine were the ones doing most of the work, while he and Sylvain sat off to the side. Shiloh said he chopped too slowly and Sylvain had never cooked anything in his life, so they were left to wait. It was probably a better choice, as Shiloh had things all sliced and cut within seconds while Nerine took over with getting them into the pot. An agonizingly long wait later, he was ready to dig in. Almost anything would taste good following several hours of walking in cramped underground tunnels. Taking time to enjoy the meal, at the end there weren't any leftovers. True to nature, Niall promptly fell asleep after his stomach was full inside the warm confines of his owner's bag.

"It might not be a bad idea to spend some time here for a while. Let's take turns keeping watch so we can all get some sleep. I'll take the first shift." Shiloh said. He couldn't agree with her more. "Alright, well don't mind me then. My feet are aching, and I've been long overdue for lying down." It still wasn't the most comfortable of places, however this wasn't the time to gripe about haves and have nots. 

Call it a hunch, premonition, or what other words people used for the feeling–but Shiloh felt they were getting close to something important. The pounding headaches were weakening and the tunnels were growing more quiet, but that nagging voice in the back of her mind murmured to stay alert. As everyone else slept, she sat before the fire within the ring of lanterns, waiting for time to pass. Hours went by, and soon she was starting to feel her eyelids grow heavy. Sitting in one position for so long made it easier to fall asleep and the relatively dim light made it doubly difficult to stay awake. Pinching herself in multiple spots, biting her own tongue, and even trying to force her eyes from closing failed. Her body wanted to sleep but her mind was too wound up to allow it. What was this unsettling feeling in the pit of her stomach that continued to gnaw away at her peace? Already ice cold now, she looked over at the leftover coffee in the kettle. Maybe drinking it would help ward off the tiredness. Didn't she just sleep a few hours ago?

Downing it all, she coughed as the last gritty drop fell on her tongue. She wasn't feeling sleepy anymore, but not necessarily any more alert. A sudden chill came into the air even though the area had a relatively stagnant airflow. It was strong enough that she was seeing her own breath as fog just a few feet away from the campfire flames. Something wasn't right. Going over to Nerine, she started shaking her. "Nerine! Get up, something weird is going on! We need to move camp, it's not safe here–hey!" She wasn't waking up. She was still breathing, but slapping her face lightly and pinching her skin didn't make her snap out of it. The others were the same way, completely unconscious. This shouldn't be happening! Was it the food? No, they were alone this whole time. They carried their supplies in with them so poisoning wasn't possible. It couldn't be a gas vent, she would've smelled that or felt the effects.

That oppressive presence was drawing closer, and her heart filled with dread. She could hear it coming, it was right there! The faint rattling of metal and rushing of air had the same eerie echoes that followed a wisp escaping their physical prison. With no time to run, she set up the lanterns as close together as possible with bottles of starlight in between to form a protective circle. All she could hope was that the areas under each vial's protection gave enough overlap. 

It came through the walls. Gliding through the air just as the folktales told, a ghastly figure descended upon them. Its movements were less stiff than the walking corpses, but it lacked feet and wore layers of robes that were in tatters. A sickly light glowed from its face as the air became thick with that otherworldly energy. She felt her throat tighten and her body's joints freeze. So this was what sleep paralysis felt like, only now she knew what caused it. But what terrified her most wasn't the wraith itself, but the swarms of other undead that were crawling in! It was almost like the wraith was commanding them…like a necromancer. 

As soon as he laid down, everything went black. It was like he was floating in a void blacker than night, body weightless with no sense of his feet anywhere near the ground. Then the sensation of falling started, and he saw the crumbling edge of a cliff above just out of his grasp. No–this, this had to be a dream! They had pulled him out with a rope. He hadn't let go! The sky above was shrinking as the blackness of the abyss swallowed it up. He was falling, he was plunging deeper into oblivion! All attempts to grasp at anything to get out failed. His arms too heavy to lift, voice unable to cry out. Terror spread like a fire through him as everything was closing in. He was suffocating–he was trapped! Inside his own mind he screamed, 'Let me out! LET ME OUT! Someone, anyone–please! Can anyone hear me?!' He didn't want to die here, no he couldn't die here! He had so much he still wanted to do. He wasn't ready to go! He'd only just started his life, by the Conclave he wasn't going to enter the Reaper's embrace!

Helplessly trapped within the night terrors, there was something he could hear behind the nightmare's din. Faint, yet familiar there was a voice he could barely make out. Was someone here? Desperate, he tried to shout to let them know where he was. Unable to see anything other than darkness it was his last ditch effort to get out. The sounds died in his throat, but he kept trying. Again, again, and again–the desire to live pushing against whatever was trying to force him silent. After working so hard to survive as a child with no friends or family, he wasn't going to give up. Being born of infernal blood, every day was a struggle against older children like him and hiding from adults who would otherwise kill him if they knew what he was. Doing everything short of murder, he fought hard to outsmart and outlive those who were bigger and stronger. He had no other choice. It was the only way he knew how.

'Somebody, please hear me! I'm here, I'm here!' The words came out as a stifled mutter, sound escaping his lips at last as his throat strained. The darkness was fading, he could hear movement and that familiar voice more clearly. Moans and shrieking wails echoed in his ears as he heard the voice shout back in defiance.

The words blasted through the room, shaking the entire tunnel with howling fury. The winds roared over the ghastly shrieks as the deity's presence forced the lesser undead against the walls. The heaviness over his entire body was weakening as whatever had paralyzed him was losing its grasp. His fingers were loosed, and his eyes were able to open. He saw her, eyes flashing and teeth grit in rage as the shadows around her were a maelstrom. Hordes of undead were broken and battered releasing the spirits they once housed while a single floating wraith remained. Its pale light was resisting against her, unwilling to give up on what sinister designs it had planned for them all. As it tried to rally more of its kind, a swarming mass of shadow came from her arm as she slammed it against the ground.

"You despicable wretch! Did you think you could try to kill us all and get away with it?" The wraith lord writhed and screeched under her grasp, but the shadowy hand's grasp held. "I don't care who you or what you are–you try to take one of mine and you'll regret thinking it for all eternity. And for that, I'm going to personally send you on a one-way trip to Dalanesca!" Lifting the wraith high, the shadow-formed hand crushed it into smithereens of spectral energy. In its last moments, the phantom emitted a high pitched wail before its connection to the physical world was sundered. A bright wisp larger than the ones they had seen before shot out of the remains only to shrivel and shrink before it completely extinguished.

When she saw the wraith it was then she put two and two together. Maybe that sudden bout of sleepiness she had wasn't normal at all. Due to her current state of divinity or natural resistance, she managed to shrug it off while everyone else had fallen under its effects. The nausea was coming back and her head was throbbing as more undead were trying to overwhelm her unconscious party. Jolting when the first wave slammed themselves against the barrier formed by the bottles of starlight, her hand gripped the handle of her switchaxe while she held her breath. Thank heavens it held–artifacts made by deities were reliable after all. There was something different about the skeletons and walking corpses than the last time. They were too organized, more coordinated. Someone was controlling them. Her eyes turned to the wraith. 

It was the only one who wasn't attacking, staying behind while speaking in some eldritch tongue. Looking at it made her stomach twist itself into knots, but it confirmed what she had been suspecting this whole time. "Every good unit has a leader, in other words–you." A dead sorcerer who didn't leave the world after his life expired. Just thinking about it made her seethe with anger. Even after death, mages still forced their will upon the masses. He had planned this in advance, casting a spell to force them to sleep while he killed them when they were defenseless. He probably wanted to add them to his ranks. But he had made one fatal mistake with that plan; he targeted her and a group of people under her protection. And he would pay for it.

The long shadows cast around the lanterns began to pool around her own as she rose to her feet. Staring straight on at the wraith, she bared her teeth at him despite feeling like she was going to vomit. To break the spell everyone else was under, she'd have to break him. Sucking air into her lungs, she shouted at the invading swarm: "Get out! I said–GET OUT!" Shadowy arms lashed out back at the risen dead, smashing them against the walls and hurling them about until they were unable to move. Wisps were being released by the dozen as the decrepit bodies they were in no longer held together. She wasn't going to waste time dealing with the foot soldiers when she was gunning for the leader himself. With his forces gone she had evened the odds so things were one-on-one.

Just like a typical mage, when he was cornered he started chanting to prepare for another spell. As if she'd let him! The shadows merged into one great arm and snatched the wraith out of the air, slamming him against the wall before lifting him high and disrupting his incantation. Rage burned through her to where her entire body felt it was on fire and everything became a blur. After exchanging a few choice words with the dead man, she crushed the remains of his earthly shell like a ripe tomato. The spectral energy dripped through the shadow hand's fingers like water, then a larger and brighter wisp than she'd seen from the skeletons rose from the ectoplasm. Having lost whatever had prevented it from entering true death, it fizzled like a spark falling to the earth. Silence returned to the tunnel as her head was cooling down. The headaches were finally gone and along with it, the spell that kept everyone unconscious. A groan came from behind and she saw Auron struggle to finally sit up, rubbing his eyes. Nerine and Sylvain were beginning to regain consciousness as well.