They welcomed the silent darkness.

Descending into the underbelly of Beinost, their bodies began to relax. Years of living in the decay and rubble of the fallen keep TrenycÈ…, alongside wights, zombies and the living shadows of the necromancers, had instilled a dark confidence. At last they felt in their element, albeit the absence of the stinging stench of death, decay and disease.

Spiraling shards of softly glowing magic rose from Kryos’ uplifted, gloved hand, illuminating the landing they had arrived at. Smooth walls with webbed frost split, one path heading toward the harbor, another continuing on, and the last doubling back toward the market district. Overhead, a series of thick pipes, some engraved with amber designs of arcane origin, ran along the center of the passages, with occasional junctions rising into the ceiling to serve the needs of the merchant district’s water demand. A hand on his shoulder brought his attention to Cor, nodding toward the path leading back toward the city wall. The manifestation of his soul lighting the way, they pressed on.

Minutes passed in cold, silent contemplation. Eventually, the slow lullaby of flowing fluid overhead began to whisper in their ears as the sewer system attended to the nature’s nocturnal calls to the city’s residents. They had transitioned back to the more residential area of the city. Kryos let his hand fall, magic fading from existence. Just ahead, small glowing orbs of magelight floated in small pockets shaped in the walls, revealing the course of the tunnel. Additional paths now joined theirs at regular intervals, some leading to a cluster of doorways while others continued on for a short span before turning from view. At each junction, directions engraved into the walls mapped the labyrinth.

“Right. Terrabella Way sounds good enough,” he said, fingers tracing under the sign. “Let’s find a place to warm up and get ready.”

Taking off at a jog in an attempt to warm up his stiffening muscles, he placed on hand on the hilt of his shorter sword. At this point, though, he really didn’t want any more unexpected encounters.

The all too familiar caress of frigid, night air washed over his face and filled his nose with crystallized breath. Ahead rose a spiraling stairway. Taking the steps two at a time and as stealthily as he could, he reached the top in a matter of seconds and found himself in a small, naked room. Across the small hut, a simple gate barred the entrance which proceeded to open with a simple turn of the bolt. Silently the hinges swung open and he stepped out under the cloudy sky.

Kryos took a moment to gain his bearings and discovered that, fortunately, they had come out on a residential street, with houses lining both sides interspersed with young cyper trees. To his left the road gradually went downhill, toward the ocean, the merchant and naval district and people in general. From their vantage point on the hill, Kryos could see the large spires of the College Arcana rising in the western part of the city. He wondered what ramifications they would have to deal with after that troublesome wizard reported back to his superiors.

Once the Archivist had joined him, they turned their backs to the city proper and made their way up the street, glancing down the side alleys that joined Terrabella Way. They studied the homes as they passed, noting signs of occupancy in nearly erased footprints and whips of smoke rising from vents.

They crested the hill and met an intersection of two major roads. Judging from the tracks, less traffic had traveled to their right along Veridian Street. He pulled his white trimmed cloak tighter around himself, clinging to any last vestige of warmth.

Finally, they found a house suitable for their purposes, devoid of immediate neighbors but with a cellar. Leaving that for the morning, they wrapped around to the back where a single cyper tree dominated the small yard, branches barren. Cor approached the door which refused to yield. The Archivist grounded his stance and rammed into the door, splintering the frame as it gave way to the strength of the Salvan.

Kryos watched for any sign or hint that their breaking and entry had been noticed. Not a sound could be heard from the surrounding homes. Just to be safe, Kryos called upon his fargazing abilities. Once again, any nearby souls suddenly became known to him. With a satisfied, exhausted smile, he walked up the steps and closed the door. The thought of sleeping wrapped in blankets of warmth, woven by the fingers of fire, eased his tired mind. Just as the door swung shut against the fractured frame, that same, unsettling feeling touched him, cold enough to extinguish his wandering thoughts of sanctuary.

The feeling that something had been watching them.