Whatever had compelled the skeletons to return to their guard, Ray didn't care. He sat, his back against the piece of wall that he was going to have to fight from. Eventually his heart returned to its regular, steady march. Against the cool stone walls of the temple, his body dropped in temperature, until his sweat ran chill. Just as he was about to shiver, he decided to leave, in case he faced any more attacks for delaying too long.

Between his remaining choices, though he did not like it, the best choice became the only one that did not offer immediate threat of undead; the forest path. With much apprehension, he entered the bounds of the dead wood, following the path that remained, though grew scarcely visible at times. That, combined with the nagging impression of muffled sounds, in this soundless environment.

Eventually, however, the tense fear faded and the stale colours of dead foliage and overcast skies were put behind him. As he moved further away from the ruins, the sky cleared up and he began to see and hear living things once more. Long ago, he couldn't remember when, Ray left behind the constricting fog and his nerves slowly relaxed. He couldn't tell how long he had been travelling on the path when he reached the first break in the path. With the sun already beginning to fall from its daily zennith to the left of his perception, he was now faced with a less life-threatening decision. The wide dirt road before him ran left and right. For all he could tell, this road had seen more usage than the humble, obscure path he had just stepped off.

When in doubt, go right. That is one of my little proverbs that I on occasion have to use. This is one of those times.

Ben simply winced but held himself together after the blow. He was tired of being hit with such primitive attacks, so he decided to strip them of that power. He aimed carefully at the wrist of the zombie he was engaged in and struck down at it in hopes to knock its left hand right off.

As much as Jeremy would rather outrun the zombies, he comes to the conclusion that doing so may leave them open as they flee. Instead, he leaps head-first into the combat. The near side of the hall may be crowed already with bodies, but his plan will bring him to an advantageous location. Using his slightly shorter stature to his advantage, he ducks down and leaps past both Ben and the zombi, who now turns in a hopless attempt to keep both within view.

As the zombi turns too far to watch Jeremy, Ben decides to employ a familiar tactic and try to break the zombi's weapons. He takes aim and quickly swipes his torch at its bloody fist and is rewarded with a solid thunk, but the blow doesn't seem to do much damage beyond spreading the scent of burning flesh. (-1 Fire Dmg)

Just to Ben's left, Ian and the second zombi continue to quarrel. As he sees Jeremy tumble past the slow bodied an non-witted undead, he discovers a plan to make room for Galen behind him. Though, Ian is not as lucky, for as he tries to move past the creature, its powerful club of an arm connects with his right shoulder, jerking him to the side [-4 Ian (1/11)]. He utters a grunt of pain and with his dominant left hand he drives a weak blow into the side of the zombi's head with a crack (-1 Dmg). The need to move out of the way unforgotten, Ian then pulls back from the zombi with a short leap back behind Ben.

From the back, Owen moves in, looking for a closer shot, looking to do anything with his magic to help resolve the battle, but cannot. As Ian pulls back to safety, the zombi pursues him, or so it seemed. The linear minded beast threw itself forward at Galen, who was about to enter the gap himself. Before the zombi could attack, however, it stepped on the hem of its own habit, stumbling foward. It nearly caught its balance, though, if not for the unseen startling surprise of Galen's force shield. Striking what was not visibly there did not compute with the balancing methods of the undead, and it fell foward onto the floor. Meanwhile the other zombi threw its armlike club in a wide arc over Ben's head, who quickly ducked down beneath the appendage that he was trying to disable.

Galen had his wish in a rather unexpected way. He wanted to have a good shot at the zombi with his weapon while his shield was still active, and with the corpse lying at his feet, he struck down at it with his improvised weapon. (-1 Dmg)

On going effects:
Galen - Shield Spell - round 2

Round 3

Now positioned behind the zombie, Jeremy found himself in a place of advantage. While the monster swung at Ben, he had a chance to closely observe the undead's movements, and as it was about to shift its weight back onto its other leg, he stuck. He dealt a swift, sharp blow to the back of the zombi's leg and it flew off the ground for a second. The sudden repositioning of the monster's foot caused it to descend quickly into what appeared to be an excrutiatingly painful way of doing the splits, just before its head fell back and struck the floor with a crunch (-6 Dmg -1 Fire Dmg). Breathing deeply from the effort of moving the foot, Jeremy was satisfied that it would not be getting back up any time soon.

Ben saw that the one opponent was felled and the other was trying to get back up. Quickly he adjusted his target and struck the other zombi, but the thickness of the undead seemed to ignore the strike, as well padded as it was. Truly the torch was no weapon for actual battle.

Ian with his club, however, had a better time of dealing a blow to the zombi, sounding with a thud. (-4 Dmg, max)

Then the zombi exposed itself fully to the three around it as it stood up. Quickly, all three attacks rained down on its back, Ian's and Galen's clubs setting it up and Ben's strike finishing the tenderizing process with a kiss sealed in flame.

Save for the magically sheilded Galen, all members of the group were badly injured with slashes or bruises. The battle that had seen such confident beginnings quickly turned into an actual struggle for life. Whatever lay beyond the door that the zombi's guarded, that Jeremy's torch now illuminated, slightly daunted the friends. If there were more enemies, it would be dangerous to consider entering another fight.

So far in the cool underground chambers of the structure, the opening of a door rarely led to anything but evil and trouble. So to find that the zombies were guarding a large door to what was, by comparison, a treasure room dropped releif upon the party.

It was a fair sized room, about thirty feet wide and nearly as deep; the roof let up a bit to around the area of ten feet off the floor. In the center of the room was a large rack set up on a small, wide pedastle that rose it a few inches off the floor. On the rack lay a small selection of weapons, six to be exact, though it was quite evident that all were old and had suffered at the hands of corrosion. The few swords were stuck within their sheaths, and when force was applied, the blade of one broke off the hilt. Ben determined the only usable weapon in the room to be an old rusty battleaxe, which did not have a sheath to become lodged in, though flakes of iron (II) oxide had to be brushed off the weapon. It wasn't perfect, but it was a significant step up from the torch.

The room had three doors besides the one they had come in. Behind the rack was another large stone double door, and on either side of the room, left and right, lay small wooden ones.

(You may converse, now. For reference, Galen and Jeremy will be trying to work with the weapons like last time (well actually, Jeremy was unconcsious last time, but this area suits him, as he can break that sword with Galen's help) Ben is going to be inspecting the left door, and my brother and I are going to be checking out the room to the right. I am giving us a chance to talk amongst ourselves while we come to this temporary stop. Don't forget to include your predestined actions while you talk XD)

Galen examines the worn and only theoretically unusable blades. Rust... an electrochemical reaction by which metal is converted into its oxide form, generally making the material weaker. To undo it would require the reverse reaction to be done, which wouldn't be able to fully restore the blades as some of the iron oxide likely doesn't remain on the blades, and requires an electric source that is beyond my current capabilities with the force of Lightning. Galen considers, Even so, the force of Fire would likely be enough to merge two of the blades into one usable one, however, an apparatus much like the ones I used in Metal Tech. class would be required, or at least a very strong heat source, which is unavailable.
The only other option is to attempt to salvage the blades by carefully removing the rust from them. Even if that is not possible, perhaps the sheathes would be suitable to wield in a manner, at least against something like a skeleton. Galen thinks.

Galen carefully picks up a blade, and examines it further, visualizing how the friction would keep the blade inside. Even if the blade by the guard was rusted, there is a possibility that the blade itself is alright, even if it is devoid of a hilt. Galen carefully and gently edges the blade from side to side, trying to dislodge some of the rust that is holding it in place.

Ideally, even if the blades were unusable at this point, there is a possibility that holding onto them would provide a means to allow them to be reforged at a later time, even if they had to be merged in order to provide enough base material to produce a capable blade. Besides, providing base material would also reduce the amount of money needed to get the weapon made as well, provided money could be attained at some point.

Upon entering the room, Ben quickly spotted a battleaxe among the other weapons in the room, and hastily claimed it for himself before the others got a chance to touch it.

"I think this axe will suit me fine enough, if only it wasn't in such rough shape though, I would be able to put it better use for longer," Ben commented.

He lowered it to his side and then decides to search what is behind the wooden door to the left.

"To think we would end up in a place like this huh? I wonder why we appeared here of all places," Ben conversed, "I don't have anything against showing up in a tomb, but something a little more nicer would have been better."

He was slightly tired and was irritated that they had not gotten out of here yet. He wasn't too fond of dark places with very little light, but he couldn't complain, at least he was with his friends.

"To think we would end up in a place like this huh? I wonder why we appeared here of all places," Ben conversed, "I don't have anything against showing up in a tomb, but something a little more nicer would have been better."
"Yeah, I don't know, all I know is I would have liked to have gotten out of here by now," Ian called out while walking to the door on the right, "but we will get out and WHEN we do, I'll be glad."

Rubbing his sore and probably bruised chest Ian asks Owen, "does your stomach still hurt?"

I don't mind this place either, but the walking dead give me the creeps, plus torch light is worse than light given only by the moon.

Ian asks Owen, "does your stomach still hurt?"
"Yeah," Owen says quietly, "what the hell else would it feel like?"

This entire thing was crazy, for what reason would they show up in a tomb was beyond questioning for him. The very idea that he was here and not at home was peculiar enough to nevermind the choice of location. This is no dream, that much is obvious, so what of the dreams then? Weren't we supposed to wake up in a temple. What was that at the end of the dream with the voices?
Spying the door to the right, he nudged his brother to follow him. "We'll check over here, anyone call if you see more zombies." he called. He drew up to the door then asked, "Jeremy, could you give Ian your torch? It's too dark over here."

Getting the requested light source, Owen opened the door and stepped back, peering into the room. It was a small room and the torch was bright enough to light the whole thing up at once as they progressed slowly in. Inside there was a table with what could easily be a medieval chemist's lab set up on it, including a small bronze cauldron with the same symbol inscribed on it as on the massive gates that brought them to this world. On one side of the table sat several vials filled with a translucent golden brown liquid, each marked with the symbol on a small label.

Owen reached forward, picking one up. This symbol, it seemed to be related to the voices from the dream. Examining it he thought how much it looked like the roman numeral two, only the top and bottom were curved inward greatly. Inside the liquid there were several tiny squares suspended, as well as a few bits of some kind of precipitate in the bottom, like tea that has been sitting for a while. He pulled off the cork, whatever reaction his brother might be giving about the vials, and chemistry-class wafted the scent to his face. It smelled quite faintly like peppermint. Without a second thought he threw caution to the wind, his instict to hesitate ignored. Now he was ready to do anything so foolish, as he learned in his youth when jumping from heights onto something that only likely would cushion the landing. Only one mouthful of liquid fit inside the vial he found out as he quaffed it down. It tasted like some kind of weak peppermint herbal tea, just slightly sweetened, but unfortunately quite cold.

Owen felt the cool liquid slide down his throat, until it reached his stomach, then something very weird happened. His stomach began to tingle fiercely, and a strange sensation came over his bleeding wound. Suddenly he cried out as a quick pain burned over his gut, then vanished. He felt infinitely better after the short shock of pain, as one's back feels better after being exposed to the healing torture of the chiropractor. Quickly he lifted his shirt to find his stomach as though it had never been touched. "Sweet Lord." He looked up to Ian, then glanced out the door, where the others heard his initial cry. "Guys! Come here! I've found something."

(There are 7 more potions on the desk, and one empty vial in my hand.)

Ben, on the other side of the room, discovered a very similar room in terms of size, save for the fact that almost half of it was cover in a dirt slide. It seemed that one of the walls, probably the back, unseen wall, had collapsed. Setting aside his axe, Ben began to dig through the soil to see what may lay under it.

After only a few moments of excavating, however, he found that the chill dirt was so cold that his hands began to ache. Still curious and not one to be denied, he reached for the axe and began digging anew. He didn't get much further with the weapon, there seemed to be too much dirt, his most recent efforts provoking a small dirt fall pouring down the mount. He began to consider leaving it alone when he heard Owen's call.

Meanwhile, Galen was beginning to gather the other four weapons on the rack, hoping to make some use out of them. Jeremy takes the rapier and attempts to wrest it from its sheath by force, taking off the hilt by accidental over-application of strength. Not that it took much, the corrosion on the blade was pretty severe, sending rusty red flakes showering to the ground.

"Yeah," Owen says quietly, "what the hell else would it feel like?"
"well it could feel better and not hurt any more," Ian responds.

Owen opened the door and stepped back, peering into the room, they progressed slowly in, he reached forward, picking up one the the bottles. He pulled off the cork, whatever reaction his brother might be giving about the vials, and chemistry-class wafted the scent to his face.
"Do you think it's safe?" Ian asks.

-----------------------------------------------------------


Ian grabs one of the bottles pops open the cork and looks at it. "Well, down the hatch," Ian said before taking the mouth full, the liquid felt cold as it flowed down his throat and stomach then, "OHH! That felt weird!" he said holding his chest. Ian than called his friends over "HEY! guys come here!"

Galen tentatively leaves his stash of raw material in the room in which he found it, and wanders over to the room in which Owen is in, saying almost as an afterthought, "Don't break the others." to anyone else who might be in the room at the time.

Seeing the vials of liquid, as well as the empty one in Owen's and Ian's hands, and their apparent recovery, Galen surmises the events that took place. Potions I'd presume. He thinks, Thankfully ones with curative properties. Now, if only my book covered healing spells within its pages as well... Galen thinks bitterly, It doesn't make much sense to me.
Banishing what would have otherwise been a very long train of thought, Galen wanders over, and counts the remaining vials.

"Alright," Galen says softly, "Once we get Ben and Jeremy to use one apiece, we had better keep the others, and seeing as there'd be four remaining, those who are more likely to be injured being in the front of combat should hold onto them. I believe that would be Ben, Jeremy, and Ian. I'll also take one, because I will also take up the place at the front as well at times, provided I have a Shield to use. Whatever you do, try not to break them."

Ben frustrated with his finds decides to leave it be and go see what Owen had found. Upon walking into their room and seeing their wounds covered up he began to think if the same would happen to his.

"Healing potions? This sure is a strange world we have landed in," he commented.

He grabbed one and uncorked it, quickly pouring it into his mouth. He swallowed it and waited for something to happen.

"I wouldn't say it has the best taste, needs more spice," he said.

Moments later his face turned to shock and the searing pain ran through his body. He fell over onto his side in pain from the potion healing his body. Suddenly it stopped and he stood up again.

"Man I thought I was going to die there for a second, I feel better though," he said, "I feel like I could take on another hundred zombies if I wanted to!"

(Note: The pain is exaggerated, due to awesomeness.)

2-3 Hours After Noon
'Right Road', Probably Eastward
Dead torch still clutched in his hand, Raymond progressed down the forested road for about an hour. He had no idea to where or what he had chosen to travel, but he trudged on. If there were any highwaymen along the road, they certainly didn't bother him. His obvious lack of possessions beyond the torch may have protected him, but he had no way of telling.

Ray grew aware of his thirst when he noticed a small waterhole through the trees. Considering that he still had no sign of how long or far he would have to travel before he saw civilization in this strange world, he broke off the road for a drink. As he drank in the cool water of the clear pool, he heard the clicking of sticks brushing against each other combined with hushed footfalls across the forest floor. Raymond slowly placed his hand over his unlit torch again and turned around quickly, spying several paces behind him what he first mistook as a bush.

It was small, between three and four feet tall, and seemed to be entirely covered in short branches save for its ugly wooden face, chest, forearms and legs. It started when it saw that its prey had heard it's apprach and with a small, malicious growl it leapt out to attack. It's long woody claw swung wide and missed Raymond as it tried to force him to back into the pool.

At the visible lack of wounds to go with the bloody slashed shirt on Owen's body, it was quite easy to see that whatever the contents of the vial were, they contained some healing magic. Ian uncorked and threw one back, the tingly soothing effects were enourmous for him, releaving him of his chest pain and leaving him with only but a dull ache in his shoulder (+9 Ian 10/11). Jeremy was next to take the potion offered to him, and downed it as Ben entered the room. He, too, found his potion to be effective in repairing his side with a 'pins and needles' sting (+8 Jeremy 9/9). Finally, Ben took on of the vials and swallowed it down.

"I wouldn't say it has the best taste; needs more spice," he said. When the tingling pain began to close his wounds and undo his damage he fell to the ground (+7 Ben 12/15). His skeleton-clawed arm wound vanished and the blow he took to the gut faded partially.

"Are you okay?" Owen asked with some concern. Then Ben stopped again almost as soon as he started, and stood up quickly.

"Man I thought I was going to die there for a second, I feel better though," he said, "I feel like I could take on another hundred zombies if I wanted to!"
"What do you mean? It doesn't hurt at all. Well, it's good to hear that you're feeling better," Owen said, "This is hardly any time for joking around." In truth, Owen knew that the whole situation seemed a little less serious for Ben's efforts. There was still the underlying current of danger, but fear and adrenaline levels seemed to quell slightly.

Ben, Jeremy, Ian, and Galen each took an extra potion for themselves to store, and moved on.

(Next is the large door in the back of the room, but we should wait a bit until Aardvark gets back, we've (read: I've) autopiloted him, so we should give him a chance to have some reactions. To Aardvark: Backpost thoughts and reactions when you get back)