Zombies are weak to fire, was his quiet first piece of advise.
Stare paused as she watched the newest creature get to the centre of the room - then disappear in a writhing mass of suddenly appearing darkness. It was clearly another teleport, the type used in this castle. Her heart thumped as realised that at any moment it could happen to them again. Whether they chose for it to or not. Certainly, the time before had not been Vitruvion after all, but the horror that dwelt within this place.
"Fire. Okay ..." she looked around and saw one of the few candles that melted fat wax onto a table, singing the wood and even merging with some of the food. She suspected that those eating this 'fine dining' would not object to a drop or two of beeswax mixed for flavouring. Especially if this was their ... kitchen.
Striding over she began to talk to Nevin, "Vitruvion says the zombies would be weak against fire," she explained. "It is a place to begin."
I am not near my library, the god murmured, and she caught a sense of him leaning back in his throne in the brotherhood council chambers, staring up at the ceiling. Still, he held his goblet in hand and still, he was alone. Give me time and I will access Ansaldo's archives.
If we have time, the teleport could take us anywhere.
Then I will be as swift as I can. There is no guarantee he ever made any undead. His eyes slid closed.
Stare breathed in and grabbed the knob of wood that made the candlestick. It took a sharp tug but she managed to free it from the table. Turning back around she looked right at Nevin.
"We need to get back to the front doors, wherever they were. Perhaps we should head in deeper?"
