THE BLADES.
Lex heeded the words of the Kaplan and did as she was instructed, an action which proved to once again find some manner with which to conflict with her own desires. Keeping close to the other mage and out of the direct melee, with the Blades brutally hacking through and carving apart the already defiled bodies of the dead, was unquestioningly the safest of options. And yet, there was the nagging matter of their eventual destination, where these numerous scorched cavern halls intersected (each stained with the blasphemous drawings similar to those shown to her by Rictor weeks ago--a clear identifier as to their current enemy), the eventual center where, with the blessing of Faram, they would confront the purveyor of this carnage.
Lex glimpsed further down the cavern and beyond the broad shoulders of the knights ahead, where the light of magicks and the reflections of steel flashed and brightened the otherwise vile gloom before them.
Stifling the small urge to stray from her party, Lex went on the offensive. Her eyes wandered to the Blades in front of her only briefly (and if one of the undead knights raising its rusted sword was suddenly thrust backward into the horde, screaming as its rotted vessel burned with magic, it was surely a momentary slip of the staff) before catching the unearthly glow of a ghost flickering ahead. She poised her weapon forward, and with a quick chant to summon forth the divine, a Holy conflagration erupted ahead, bursting in blinding, brilliant light.
Was this progress? She wondered. It wasn't so long ago when she had been brought to the Necrohol and taught the harsh lessons of humility by the wrath of similar creatures. Those granted only an incomplete death--when the Dark taints the flesh and binds the soul to the confines of the earth, subjugating these spirits to the will of another. None deserved this fate, she had thought before and thought now still. Again there was movement ahead, Lex glimpsing the unnatural fires wrought from the summoning of black magicks as an undead mage appeared around the next corridor. Again Holy was conjured forth, a merciless burst of light causing the creature to writhe and shriek in anguish (a gargled, horrifying sound).
Noise came from everywhere, echoing and shattering off the walls, warning of dangers in all directions. The fear and anxiousness burned up her chest and lodged in her throat, stifling her commentary. Her foot slipped on something, but Lex maintained her efforts to not look down--she could smell it, after all, the rot and the stench of corpses, clinging pervasively to the stagnant air. That enough would prove haunting, even without the glimpses of steel as they cleaved head from neck, leg from torso, leaving a trail of limbs and indiscernible gore behind.