They spent the following day on resting, and on purchasing equipment, as Syd and Parant had suggested. Then, like smugglers in the dark, they took Lavinia's rowboat out into the harbor, headed back to Parrot Island.
            When they pulled their boat up onto the little beach, they found that they hadn't been the only ones. Four more boats lined the sand, all empty, the oars stowed.
            It was strangely silent in the dark; the branches above were heavy with parrots, but they didn't make a sound. Most appeared asleep, but the party's light still reflected from hundreds of tiny eyes, watching, judging. The jungle loomed dark ahead, black as sin. It felt ominous.
            Parant motioned to the others to remain as silent as possible. "I can shift form and scout ahead," he said quietly. His voice was pitched low, but he very deliberately did not whisper. Jabari knew (because Parant had told him on more than one occasion) that whispers carried further in the dark than using one's voice did). "You may wish to hide these boats while I am away, if you can do it quietly. If you are agreed, I will go. Give me a count of six hundred, and if I don't return, you can come looking for me." A wry smile touched his lips in the darkness. "I promise, I will not start any fights alone."
            "After last time, I'd prefer that we kept your nose where we can see it." Jabari gestured at the beached boats. "These weren't zombies in these boats and I don't need an animal's nose to smell an ambush coming."
            "Jabari's the eye for it," Talib agreed, scimitar sliding from his sash even as he checked to make sure that the plated knuckles he wore were tied tight.
            They were taken by surprise last time and nearly paid the price for it. The sailor was confident that such would not happen again, but still heeded caution rather than trust his own arrogance.
            "We should hide out boat, and maybe sabotage and shove the extra boats off the beach," he noted, "Make it difficult for them to flee. Difficult, but not impossible - leave one behind. Rats trapped in a sinking ship become bitey bastards. But I don't want anyone escaping, not if we can help it. We need captives. We need answers."
            Talib let Parant and Jabari discuss the idea of scouting - they knew their talents best - while he was instead stealing himself for a fight from beginning to end. People had come back to Parrot Island, and that meant he was right.
            Something was here. Something useful. Pertinent to the problems of Tashluta.
            He would get to the bottom of it.
            Syd clicked his tongue as he regarded the four new boats. "Sure, I'll make it difficult," he said to Talib.. He glanced around the place and nodded. "I have an idea." Syd proceeded to take the oars from each boat and hid them in a bushy area. He also took their boat and hid it behind a large driftwood log on the far side of the beach. Far enough that a casual observer wouldn't spot it.
            Gbele helps Syd with lugging oars boats, and hiding them.
            Parant eyed the treeline as he listened to Jabari and Talib. He nodded, agreeably. Then, as Syd and the Baba set about hiding oars, he met both Talib and Jabari's eyes. "If there's an ambush coming, they were pretty lazy about hiding themselves." He jerked his head towards the beached boats. "I think it more likely that they're in the act of smuggling something. And, in either case, it would benefit us to know how many of them there are. I'm going. I'll be back before they're done with the oars. And I'll err on the side of caution."
            With that, Parant nodded respectfully to both of the other noblemen, and turned to enter the darkness.

            Parant slithered into the jungle, picking up no trace of stronger heat than the ground was already releasing from the day... but there was definitely the strong smell/taste of blood, and of death.
            It wasn't long before he came upon someone standing in the jungle. Whoever it was, he was wearing the bloodstained armor of the city watch, and from what Parant could tell from behind, he was missing quite a bit of flesh from his neck and arms. He didn't appear to be carrying a watchman's weapons, though.
            The man simply stood, unmoving, the occasional sound of grinding teeth reaching Parant.
            "Zombie," the word flashed through Parant's mind, and he suppressed a shudder as memories of being eaten alive came rushing back to him. Very carefully, he began to move away from the creature, circling wide, and looking for others like it.

            As the others were satisfying themselves that they'd done all they could to be a nuisance to whomever had left their boats behind, Parant came out of the treeline. His face, as he came closer, was grave.
            "Zombies," he said. "Not down the hatch, but up on the land. I found nine of them. All of them dressed as guards, all of them looking... eaten." There was a slight shudder in his voice at the last word. "They're city guards. I don't know if they were killed and brought here, or what happened, but they didn't have any weapons that I saw. Still have their armor though." He shook his head. "Three between here and the clearing. Six more around the hatch. I didn't get any closer, and I didn't get to the other side of the island, either. I didn't want to be gone too long, and have you guys run into the zombies without warning."
            Parant looked at the others. "I don't think whoever is down there is expecting us. I think the zombies are guardians, while they do whatever they're doing down below. If we attack the guardians, it will likely be noisy. I can probably lead you around the first three, but the clearing will be challenging, and the fight above will likely lead to an ambush below. Perhaps we should go around to the other side, and see what's waiting there."
            Hearing Parant's report, Gbele shakes his head. "We must destroy the zombies on our terms. If not, we could become surrounded on their terms. These creatures are predictable. Let us attract the attention of a few, and lead them away from the hatch to an ambush. We then repeat the plan until they are all destroyed. We can then destroy them without alerting those below."
            Syd nodded to the Baba's suggestion. "Good idea. Where do we want to lead them? I move pretty fast, I'll get their attention and get them to follow."
            "An open area. The beach, maybe?" Gbele said.
            Jabari grunted. "Okay, but if they all follow then we're going to get swarmed and there's no door to shut behind us this time." He looked at Parant. "There's no way around them?"

            Setting their plan into motion, the others waited on the beach as Syd slipped into the jungle, lighting his way with the ioun torch he had borrowed from the Baba. Even with the birds overhead eerily silent, the jungle was full of night sounds - sounds that may have been sighs, or groans, from the dead. Still, he forged on, making good time until he reached the end of the hidden path, and shone his light on the clearing.
            It was as Parant had said - what looked to be around six zombies were lurching about the open hatch - but they didn't look like the ones Syd had seen below. Not nearly as rotted, these could have looked alive if it wasn't for the gore they were covered with, and the flesh they weren't covered with. And all of them wore the uniforms of the city watch, with the badge of Shadowshore on their askew leather breastplates.
            He didn't have to fire a single arrow - when he arrived with the ioun torch in hand, they turned toward the light, and began to stagger after him. He immediately turned back on the path, heading back into the jungle - but as he rounded a rock formation, more zombies stumbled out of the jungle, attracted by the light. One was coming up beside him as he skidded to a stop, while the other was slowly approaching on the path to the beach, ragged arms splayed toward him in anticipatory hunger.
            Deeper in the jungle, more groans heralded other unwelcome intrusions.
            "Seems Shadowshore is going to hell more than we thought," Syd commented at the sight of the dead guards. It didn't bode well, and spoke of some deeper conspiracy in the lawless corners of the city. Who could have killed the guards, and then raised the corpses to do their bidding? Unless Vanthas had some secret magical talent, someone else was at work here. What their tie to Vanthas was, he couldn't begin to speculate.
            Syd swore to himself when he turned back and heard the groans from the jungle. He should have known the dead in the jungle would have zeroed in on the ioun stone as he moved through. If only the moon was able to penetrate the jungle he wouldn't need the damned thing. A zombie ahead, and a zombie behind. And no telling of where the others may lie in wait. He made a face and pushed forward, relying on his training and skill to keep himself safe.
            He ran straight at the zombie in front of him on the path, not realizing until too late that it wasn't going to be surprised by his audacity - but with superhuman agility, he slid past it on fallen fronds and ferns, rolled to his feet on the far side of it, doing a flip to avoid its clumsy reach for him, and landed on his feet to keep moving. As far as he could tell, the path ahead was clear - but noises in the brush behind him suggested things were still following his light, albeit slowly.
            Equally slowly, the dead guard turned around and shuffled toward him, hands outstretched in fleshless claws.
            Syd breathed a sigh of relief when he dodged the arms of the zombie. His reckless run almost did him in. But he was past it now, the only thing left was to bait the zombies to the trap. "Come on, you festering cadavers. Follow the fresh meat."
            Syd breathed a sigh of relief when he dodged the arms of the zombie. His reckless run almost did him in. But he was past it now, the only thing left was to bait the zombies to the trap. "Come on, you festering cadavers. Follow the fresh meat."
            The zombies groaned as they turned to pursue. Syd kept his distance, eyeing the walking dead as he made his way down the path. His going was easier on the packed path, but the zombies, being brainless as they were, kept pushing through the underbrush in an attempt to follow.
            Syd was so focused on his pursuers and staying just ahead that he almost ran off a cliff! He stopped short, his arms flailing wildly as his momentum dissipated. The land dropped away sharply just beyond his feet. He was certain he could clear it safely, but the zombies might not follow. If he was just looking to get away, it would have been a viable option, but that wasn't his goal tonight.
            Syd turned back the way he came and almost stepped back over the cliff. A pair of zombies were blocking the pathway, and as inevitable doom, were still advancing. Syd quickly weighed his options. He drew his longsword, but decided it wouldn't be prudent to take on two of them on his own. Instead, he ran straight at them!
            At the last moment, the light and lithe elf ducked and slid under the reaching arms of the first. Turning, he planted his feet and backflipped completely over the second. It's arms reaching into the space he was less than a second prior. Syd landed on his feet and continued his retreat, even as more zombies staggered out of the brush forming a terrible conga line.
            Syd frowned, considering the path he took and the wrong turn he must have made. The correct path wasn't obvious; it must have become overgrown and he overlooked it in his haste. Even as he continued to move, he examined the right side of the pathway for where he should go. At last, he saw packed earth, mostly overgrown with jungle vegetation. He turned sharply, ducking through the large fronds into a more recognizable trail.
            He looked back and noticed some of the zombies were falling behind. He was still staying just ahead of the lead one, but others were cutting through the underbrush. He didn't want to lose them; the entire point was to lure as many as possible so the others could ambush them. He decided making noise was the best way to keep them on the trail. He banged the flat of his longsword against his rapier, making a clanging sound he hoped would attract the dead, but not alert what living there might be. As an added bonus, it would alert his friends to his approach.
            He could see the end; the beach was just ahead! Syd glanced back one more time, noting three zombies on his trail. Hopefully more were beyond the Ioun Torch's light. He tucked his head and dashed onto the beach, turning at the designated spot to await the zombie's arrival. "Incoming!" he said.

            Parant had agreed with the plan, though he'd debated trailing along behind Syd, to give the half-elf a little extra protection. In the end, however, he'd agreed to let Syd go on his own.
            "While he's away," Parant said to the others, "we should set up our ambush. We don't know how many he'll be bringing with him. Standing in the open on the beach seems like a tactical error."
            Jabari and Parant both set their plan into motion, climbing the palms that swayed over the sand, which caused the parrots resting there to flutter elsewhere. Then Syd barged back onto the beach, with what looked to be mangled city guards in shambling pursuit.
            Parant, lit from below by Syd's orbiting ioun stone, revealed the striped face of a tiger as he hurled a flask of acid at the middle of the approaching line of guards. In a stroke of ill luck, the majority of it only ate away the man's helm, but smoking holes did appear in his head, and the bodies of the zombies before and behind him.
            Jabari bounced a sling bullet off another's noggin, but though its head rocked back, it didn't slow in its methodical pursuit of the living.
            The Baba stood in the middle of the beach, javelin in hand. He supposed he'd know very soon whether his hasty plan was going to work out. When he saw Syd, then the first of the zombies emerge from the brush, he held his aim, waiting for the right time to throw.
            But when it became apparent that Syd intended to hold his ground, the Baba burst into motion, churning sand under his feet as he ran to close. It was clear to his experienced eye that he would not reach close range soon enough, however, so he hurled his javelin past Syd, hoping that the longer range would not prove too tricky - and indeed, his javelin punched into the lead zombie... but as Talib had warned them, the weapon stuck in what was left of its gut didn't appear to concern the monster greatly. It shuffled on, the javelin waving and bobbing in a sickening manner.
            As it reached Syd, the agile elf whipped his new longsword at the ex-guard - but his sword was deflected by the creature's clumsily raised bracers, leaving only a shallow cut in the leather.
            Scimitar in hand, Talib Islaran took off across the sand as Syd returned, prepared to cut down the undead as they came out of the forest. If only they could be so polite as to do so single-file the entire way.
            Syd wasn't prepared for the guard to lurch into him without regard for its unlife, and wasn't able to get his sword interposed enough to tear free - painfully - before the horrid abomination had nearly severed his jugular with its teeth. Still, it wasn't able to latch onto him as he staggered back, his blood staining the ioun-lit sand. It paused to chew his chunk of flesh as the other guards stumbled closer.
            One by one, the other zombies followed, slowly ringing around the elf with arms outstretched and teeth gnashing. Somehow it was more terrible that they had recently been alive than when all they had dealt with was moldy remains, but Syd was in a better position to understand the terror of their being than the horror of their condition.
            "Shit." Parant winced at seeing the zombies tear into Syd. He knew what that felt like. The curse, however, had slipped out when Syd turned to face the zombies right away. Had Syd kept running, both Parant and the Baba could have had another shot or two at the zombies before anyone had to engage in melee. Melee was, clearly, very dangerous where these things were concerned.
            But what was done was done, and it wasn't like Parant hadn't made a near-fatal tactical error himself with these same types of creatures. Now, it was up to him to do for Syd what Syd and the others had done for him. With a quick glance to make sure that Jabari was still safely up his own tree, Parant took a deep breath, then nodded and shifted, once more becoming his leopard form.
            Jabari was extremely uncomfortable being safe up in a tree while everyone else- even Parant, from a glance over at his friend's tree- was fighting blade-to-teeth. He angrily stowed his useless sling and in so doing, discovered the vial of holy water he had bought. "I forgot about this!"
            Hardly waiting to aim, the young man threw the vial at the zombie practically at his feet.
            What skin and flesh remained on the gnawed arms of the guard sizzled and spat as Jabari poured holy water over it, spattering the other zombies as well.
            The Baba drew his dagger, then moved into melee with the zombies. He slashed at the closest one's face, but despite loosening a long flap of skin, it didn't appear to do much.
            "Move, Syd, move!" Talib cried in worry as the Elf appeared to be covered in crimson from the violent assault of the undead. Furious at the assault of one of his Comrades, Talib slid around to the side of one of the zombies, meaning to open it apart with his vicious curved blade. He was counting on his own swordsmanship to avoid becoming as badly injured as Syd.
            He saw an opportunity as the slow creature turned its gaze toward the Baba, and he took it. Several swift cuts, and the zombie's movements grew even slower and more jerky as ligaments snapped and strings of muscle cleaved from bone. Still the ravenous dead reached for living flesh, obscene and unmerciful hunger driving it.
            "Ah, damn," Syd hissed as he held his free hand against his neck, making some attempt to stem the flood of lifeblood. He really, seriously miscalculated. His bravado in luring the walking dead to their makeshift ambush was dispelled in the course of the first moments of combat. He had to get away... right now . He swung his sword feebly in front of him, not in any attempt to hit anything, but to try to keep the zombies from finishing the deed. He staggered back on his heels, initially towards the breakers, and angling for where Talib and Gbele were running into the melee. "Lathander, let me live," he prayed quietly, keeping his eyes on the dead.
            Too agile even in his bloodless state for the clumsy zombies to catch, Syd spun away across the blood-spattered sand with the firey light of his orbiting stone lighting his way, one hand clasped to his neck, the sword growing heavy in his other hand. But Gbele was the next to feel the zombies' relentless attack; the half-melted one clubbed him with arms like deadwood, knocking him half-silly, though he retained the presence of mind to fight out of its embrace.
            The next one turned on Talib - but the sailor whirled his scimitar like a dervish from the deserts of his forebears, and with a final slice, cut its head from its shoulders. Its teeth gnashed harmlessly in the sand as Talib kicked its head away.
            The last of them slogged through the sand toward Gbele, hands with fingers stripped of flesh reaching with marrow-cracked red bones.
            The leopard that was Parant launched himself from his branch towards his prey, as hunting cats had been doing since time immemorial. In a few quick leaps, Parant was across the sand, leaping claws-first at the back of the zombie beneath Jabari's tree.
            The clouded leopard ripped into the slow-reacting guard, tearing ragged gashes in what muscles it had remaining. The wounds seeped slow-moving, mostly-congealed blood, and the zombie slowly rounded on Parant, bloodstained mouth constantly working as though it were an old man chewing something hard.
            Jabari swirled his arms and rocked his shoulders as best he could up in the tree, then directed the swirl of wind down and at the pair of zombies in a line on the far side of the Baba. Sand and fronds flew as an almost solid column of air rocketed down at the slow-moving monsters.
            He tried to focus, hanging onto the palm with his legs, but at an inopportune moment as he was gathering power, he began to slip - and his aborted gestures as he caught himself threw off his aim. The sand was blasted from the ground in a crater some feet away, while it only ruffled the zombies' hair in a gust of backblown wind, rather than throwing them back as he had intended.
            The holy man grimaced in pain, not liking the way this fight had turned. He made an attempt to put some distance between himself and his opponents, then cast a quick spell.
            Unable to get fully out of reach, he was experienced enough to parry the inevitable, predictable attack when it came. He called out to Ubtao... and Ubtao heard him. His terrible wounds faded, like jungle mist in the day.
            With Ubtao's blessing upon him, Gbele studied his foes. What about them was special?
            The only time Talib felt more himself than on the deck of a rolling ship was when he had a blade in his hand, and the shifting sands beneath his feet as he whirled and spun in a flurry of steel was proof of that. With the tide greatly turned in their favor, the Scion of Islaran pounced once more, lashing out in a furious melee that was meant to rend the nearest zombie with a thousand cuts.
            "Almost there, lads!" he encouraged his fellow warriors on, "Let's be done with these filth-carriers!"
            The sands under his feet shifted treacherously as he fought; not the honest shifting of a ship at sea, but the slithering glide of a traitorous snake. Because of it, a push from the zombie ahead of him put him off balance for a breath, only a breath, but it was enough to stymie the best of his attacks, as the monster turned back from Parant, desperate hunger somehow visible in its newly dead eyes.
            Syd breathed a sigh of relief as the Baba and Talib interposed themselves into the melee. He had escaped death, but not by much, and he still had a chance to bleed out on the sand. He kept a hand tight against his neck to try and stem the flow of blood, though his vision was beginning to swim. It took effort to keep himself upright and focused. His sword hung limply in his hand, and eventually he dropped it.
            Syd stepped back and fell to his knees, though he stayed upright. He blinked and reached back, pulling his bow out, as well as a white-fletched arrow. He tried nocking the weapon, but his focus wasn't there. It took all his effort to keep from falling over.
            Parant was suddenly hit by a heavy weight, his spotted fur clenched in bony hands as the zombie near him caught hold of him. He managed to paw away its gnashing teeth, but only just - and it still had hold of him!
            The one behind it, seeing Syd bleeding on the beach, staggered after him.
            Syd saw it coming, and a burst of adrenaline let him roll away from its grasp as it lashed out at him. It didn't hurt that the sand seemed to make its dragging feet slip, either.
            Talib neatly fended off the last zombie's attack, gashing it across the face in retaliation as he found his footing again.
            By all the gods! These things were fast, and terrifying. For a moment, Parant's animal brain was awash in the terror of the memory of the last time he'd been clutched in the hands of these things, and he very nearly spiraled into mindless flight. The logical man-brain managed -just barely - to point out that twisting out of the abomination's grasp would not prevent it from grabbing at him again. Ripping the unlife from its unnatural shell, on the other paw, might.
            The monster never stood a chance - Parant was a whirlwind of slashing claws and fangs, and he ripped the unfortunate guard limb from half-chewed limb. Its remaining gnawed carcass fell to the sand, the fell magic that gave it life slowly draining from it. Soon, it would only be crab food.
            "Whoa!" Jabari grabbed for purchase and held on to steady himself before taking a deep breath and letting it out in another blast of wind, this time one armed as he clutched the tree for dear life with his other arm.
            This time, a vortex of whirling sand and wind crashed into the zombie by Parant, shoving it back several feet from his friend. The monster didn't even have the sense to be confused by this turn of events; with unblinking, dull eyes caked with sand, it struggled forward again, undeterred, reaching for the bleeding leopard.
            Syd continued to roll, doing his best to keep the reaching arms of the dead from catching him. He was sure to be done for if it did. He grimaced as he lowered his bow, determined to stay alive . He came to his feet, albeit wobbly, and sidled up behind Talib, keeping his weapon between himself and the zombie. "I could use one of those heals," he groaned in Gbele's general direction.
            The zombie grasped at the air where Syd had been moments before, dully looking about until it realized where its prey had gone.
            "Yes, my friend, it appears that you could." The Baba takes a step out of immediate harm's way, and quickly heals Syd, hoping to bring him back into the fight. "You should be more careful, maybe," the holy man jokes, but with his stiff delivery, it's never really clear how much he's actually kidding.
            Syd seemed to hear distant drums, or maybe it was the pounding of blood in his ears. Ubtao seemed to find the elf worthy, for the gaping wound in his neck filled out, leaving only a bleeding ring of teethmarks where it had been.
            The zombies were unrelenting in their pursuit, heading for blood with mouths hanging open, but Parant and Syd easily avoided their clumsy strikes.
            As the zombie staggered towards him, Parant launched himself from the top of one corpse into the chest of another, claws and teeth flashing.
            The flesh that filled his mouth was not long dead, and for that, he could be grateful. He shredded the sorry guard into pieces with his gory claws and rending teeth, tossing bits away with a shake of his spotted head.
            They were almost through, Talib saw. The Baba attended to Syd, the tide was turning. Now to finish it.
            His blade lashed out in a wicked strike, one that very well might have been a cut more perfect than The Red Knight could have ever made, but the sands, the blasted sands once turned a critical blow into a regular slice of his elegant curved sword. With that, Talib stepped to the east, trying to place himself between the undead (if Parant had not already torn apart the other - it was hard to keep track of in the melee) and draw their assaults - he felt himself ready for them, to strike and strike hard if either meant to undo him.
            Though Talib cut it deeply, and it moved with more and more difficulty, move it yet did, oozing sluggish blood from wounds that should have gushed. Though Talib stood ready to deal it true death, its purpose was single-minded and primal - it followed the bloodied Syd, arms reaching for meat already bitten.
            As the Blessing of Ubato washed over Syd, he sighed deeply, taking in a breath of relief. He raised the hand holding his white-fletched arrow to his neck and was relieved to find it no longer bleeding. "Thank you, friend," he said to Gbele. His energy returned, Syd sidled on his tiptoes across the sand, his bow coming up. He took aim and let fly the arrow towards the nearest zombie.
            Slipping away from its grasping mutilated hands, Syd shot true - even though he had to avoid Talib, who was still behind it, and even though the arrow was heavy from the vial of holy water it held at the end, rather than a point.
            The vial shattered, and when it touched the guard's pitiful remaining flesh, the zombie's dull eyes rolled up, and it let out a sigh that might even have been relieved. It dropped to its knees, then its face in the sand, the body strangely deflated from its missing flesh. Syd's ioun stone circled above, lighting the sad scene, glinting in the eyes of the hundreds of silent parrots in the trees.
            The battle was over.

            Syd leaned his back against the palm trunk, his bow in hand. Last time he did this, he was looking to bait as many as he could. This time, the plan was a lot more systematic. He glanced around the tree and saw one of the former guards lurching generally in the copse beyond. It seemed to be sniffing the air... if that was an accurate description of what it was doing. Syd nocked an arrow and pulled back, holding the arrow to his cheek as he carefully aimed at the creature. With a solid bead on the slow moving zombie, he let the arrow fly.
            The wooden shaft punched straight through the creature's rotting skull. But it had the desired effect. It's empty eyes and lolling jaw turned towards the source of the missile. Syd stood out from the tree and grinned widely, waving at it as if it was an old friend. "Heya," he said. As the zombie started lurching in his direction, he turned and ran towards where the others were waiting.
            "Incoming," he said at the designated position.
            As Syd ran past the noose on the ground, calling out his soft warning, Parant gave the Baba a nod, and tightened his grip on the end of the rope the two of them held. As soon as the zombie staggered into the right spot (helped by seeing Syd standing in the middle of the path), Parant signaled the Baba and began running. The idea being that the two of them would snare the zombie's foot and drag it up into the tree. Once there, Syd and Talib would step up and cut the thing to bits.
            Jabari, Parant checked, was still safely hidden, positioned to wind-rush any zombie that might have come along with this one, and buy them time. It wasn't the most efficient of plans, necessarily, but it should work.
            And work it did. For the next hour or so, the group repeated their grisly dance, and by the end of it, with sore hands and splattered in gore, they finished putting the last of the zombies to rest.

            The hatch was wide open, as they had left it, the boulder that had blocked it shut lodged some distance to the side. What was new was that there was a fresh rope tied to the holding ring, descending down into the long shaft.
            There were smears of blood on the rope.
            Syd frowned at the new blood-soaked rope. "Well, seems someone has made a visit while we were out," he commented. He debated just dropping in and seeing what was what, but he also didn't want to be surprised at what he might land on/in. "Anyone got a torch we can drop in there?"
            The Baba roots around in his pack for a moment, eventually producing a torch and tinderbox. He lights the torch with practiced ease, and holds it over the opening. He then looks around the assembled group, eyebrows raised in question.
            Jabari nodded. "Go ahead. Let's see how many zombies are down there waiting to eat us."
            Parant, wincing a little as he moved, though he did his best to hide his discomfort, squatted on the opposite side of the hole from the Baba, eyes looking down into the darkness even before the torch was dropped.
            Nothing revealed itself to Parant in the small space below the shaft before Gbele dropped his torch. When the holy man did so, it tumbled down to the puddled stone below, hissing and sputtering in the room beneath the shaft. Nothing passed below the shaft aperture, nor were there any sounds that reached their ears but the sizzling of the torch in the shallow puddle.
            "Right," the lanky elf said as he eyed the torch in the puddle below. He waited a moment to make sure, and the stood straight. "Well, if I die, don't follow," he said with a wry grin. He grabbed the bloody rope and slid down, carefully controlling his descent to land softly on the wet floor. He kept his eyes down the known corridor to see if anything could be seen.
            Silent as a phantom, Syd shimmied down the rope and took stock of the entrance. It looked nothing like how they'd left it; while the cut rope still lay on the floor, there was blood everywhere, though no sign of a body. Spatter had hit the walls, and there was a smeared handprint on the wall under the rope. Smears suggested something had been dragged away, or dragged here.
            Nothing stirred in the dank, fungus-lined passage that led deeper into the old smugglers' tunnels.
            "That's not ominous at all," Syd said. He looked up and waved a hand indicating that it was relatively safe for the others to come down. He then drew his longsword and crept silently along the passage, waiting at the turn for the others to arrive.
            Parant looked at Baba Gbele and Jabari. "You two first," he said, then turned his attention to the jungle once more, trying to make sure that they weren't going to be ambushed again.
            The strangely silent macaws watched from the trees. Nothing else stirred, not even the sea breeze.
            Arrive Talib soon did, well accustomed to ascending and descending ropes far more harrowing - though perhaps none quite so terrifying. When his boots touched ground, he wiped the blood onto his hands and drew his own blade and crept quietly as he could manage after Syd.
            The entire place was something out of a horror novel, or some old salt's ghost story. Who ever heard of a cavern covered in blood and have it not be just some ... fiction, some nightmarish fantasy? The smell of salt and stone and copper tang was strong, and between the rotting flesh of the undead above and now this, Talib was quite sure he would never eat again.
            But they had to press forward. Now more than ever.
            "This is certainly not how we left this place," he bemoaned, "What in the name of the winds happened here?"
            The holy man nodded and lowered himself down the rope right behind Talib. The gory scene didn't seem to have any negative impact on him whatsoever. He looked carefully around the room and commented with just the hint of a smile, "A mystery, I think." He picked up the torch, deciding that as long as it was lit, he might as well carry it.
            Jabari clambered carefully down the bloody rope and tried to land in a spot without too much blood. He shook his head as he turned in a circle. "If we're lucky, this is the remains of the zombies that were trying to eat us."
            Last down the rope, moving carefully, Parant looked around the room, then at Jabari. "Because we've been so lucky so far, yes?"
            Jabari grinned at his old friend. "I was trying not to say that part out loud."

            There were signs of a struggle everywhere as they slowly walked down the twisting corridor, noting such unpleasant details as a hand ripped loose and lying abandoned on the stone, a blood-soaked watchman's insignia, likewise ripped away and left behind, a few broken crossbow bolts with rotting flesh on the tips - far older than that of the newly-dead zombies they had encountered above - and smears of blood on the floor and walls, though not so much as in the entrance room. There were, however, bloody footprints leading back down the throat of the passage.
            By the time they reached the door to the hall where they had tied the doors shut, they were on their toes, even though the bloody footprints had tapered out before they reached the doors. Syd opened the oiled door and peeked out - there was no sight of anyone, but the rope on the doors to his right had been cut.
            And he could hear someone talking, beyond the door down there.
            Syd frowned at the state of the passage, and their cut rope. Syd turned to Talib and spoke low, "I think that maybe our last visit stirred up the locals, and our new friends," he hiked a thumb at the voices, "ran into the... security system." Syd padded softly to the door the voices were coming from and stuck an ear to it, to try and suss out what was being said, and by whom.
            He pulled his ear away from the door with a face, returning to the group with a thoughtful look. "I can't make out who is speaking or what, but it's a man, and he sounds annoyed." He cast a meaningful glance at the carnage around them. "What do we want to do? Barge in and surprise them? Knock? Go the other way?"
            "I say we go in and ask a few questions," Parant said quietly, a predatory gleam in his eye.
            The holy man preferred talking over fighting. It was much easier to learn information from potential opponents if you did so before you killed them. In this particular case, however, he could make an exception. "We take advantage of the element of surprise, I think. Is the door locked?" he asked Syd.
            With the realization that the rest of the group shared his intent, Parant let his eyes glow in the darkness, and in the blink of an eye, he shifted once more. This time, into the smoewhat smaller feline form of the caracal, or "desert lynx," he'd assumed in the city. As far as he knew this was the only form their prey might have seen him in during their hunt - unless they'd been watching the fights against the zombies. If they were about to meet those they hunted, there was no point in revealing the full scope of his powers.
            The copper-colored hunting cat slunk forward in the darkness on silent paws.
            Syd gave the ioun torch to Gbele, and followed Parant, both of them silent as ghosts. They gently opened the doors that were no longer tied shut, just a crack, and peered through.
            There was a large room on the other side, and another set of double doors on the far side of the room, slightly ajar. The voice Syd could hear, and now Parant as well, was coming from beyond them.
            But standing between the two and the far doors was one of the blackened, ancient zombies, smelling of rot and mold. Its stomach was hugely distended, to the point where the skin showing had developed stress striations. And though the two had been silent as could be when they looked inside, it raised its head, as though sniffing, and slowly turned to face them, shuffling a few steps forward with a low groan and reaching hands.
            There was fresh blood on its face and hands.
            The sight of the distended zombie, and the fact he was in the front line again, brought to Syd's mind the last time he faced one by himself... and very nearly died. Shaken a bit, he put his rapier away, chiding himself on the poor plan.
            He was expecting a human behind these doors. Well, at least, someone a with a little more life in them. He drew his longsword and stepped into the room, though not to the zombie itself, holding back at the doorway.
            The hunting cat that was Parant crouched in the darkness, hackles raised at the sight of yet another of the gods-forsaken zombies. Even as Syd stepped forward and drew his blade, Parant rocked back on his haunches, every muscle tensed and ready.
            The zombie turned fully, already stumbling toward Syd with hands outstretched, but Syd managed to sidestep its clumsy but powerful attack, its shrunken fingers dragging across his armor as he bounced away.
            The cat that was Parant launched himself at the zombie in eerie silence. In a single moment, the undead monstrosity was distracted, and then it had a ball of fur and fury in its face, claws and teeth flashing.
            Though the taste of the ancient dead thing was truly foul, Parant quickly rent its ropy, mouldy limbs from its torso, and it collapsed to the earth with a sigh of what seemed relief, eerily reminiscent of the zombies with more recognizable faces above.
            The murmuring voice continued to speak from beyond the cracked double-doors, all unwitting of its guard being reduced to so much slimy carnage.
            Jabari gave it a few seconds after the silence suddenly descended after the zombie went down, then moved on down the hallway to the room. He asked Syd quietly "Any sign of where all this blood came from?"
            The heavier pools of blood did seem to be centered in the hall right in front of the corridor, though some smears trailed the way they were going.
            The Baba was genuinely curious at to whom they would find here. He was unsatisfied by the way their earlier investigations had offered little clarity about what was going on, so now faced with the likelihood of finally learning something useful, he becomes unusually animated.
            "We must move swiftly before we lose surprise." The holy man moved toward the doors as quickly as he could while still moving quietly. He was careful to stay out of view through the slight opening of the doors, but worked to get close enough so that he could hear the conversation.
            "Agreed," Syd nodded quietly to the Baba as he did the same, padding softly to the other side of the door. He waited and listened for a while before trying to open it.
            Parant-the-Caracal found himself now buried up to the haunches in the dead-again zombie's rotten chest cavity. Even as he set about delicately removing himself as quietly as he could, the sludge, mold, and stench briefly overwhelmed him, and his stomach heaved. There was the quiet sound of a cat gagging, and stumbling out and away from the body. He managed to keep it to only one gag, and no hacking, but in doing so, Parant-the-Man wasn't able to prevent Parant-the-Cat from frantically shaking his paws to free them of the remains of the zombie stuck to them.
            It was only a couple of seconds of scrabbling activity, and it wasn't a lot of sound, but it certainly wasn't silent. At least, not until Parant managed to get himself under control, crouching in the darkness, his eyes and ears intently searching for some sign he'd been heard.
            Unfortunately, whether Parant had been heard or not, between them, Jabari tripped over a loose bit of rubble, the sound scraping in their ears. It felt like it should have echoed, though it didn't.
            The talking down the hall ceased. Then came the slow, shuffling tread of more zombies approaching.
            Parant-the-Caracal looked up. First at Jabari, then towards the doors. Then back at the others. All of that took less than a heartbeat. A moment later, he launched himself into motion, moving across the cave towards the doors. He came to rest beside the Baba, crouching once more on his haunches, ready to attack.
            Jabari mouthed an exaggerated 'Sorry' at the big cat and shook his head. The young man held his ground, knowing he had no business up front by the door.
            As the others rushed to take their positions around the door, Baba Gbele swung it open and stepped back. Just on the other side, not five feet away, stood three of the blackened, rotting zombies they had come to know - and a middle-aged man with lank, thin hair, and blotches of rotten skin, the smell of death wafting around him even more than the zombies. He wore the armor of a town guard, badly - and the symbol of Lliira hung from around his neck, reversed. More tellingly, his chin and cheeks were masked with red.
            The zombies continued to stagger forward, but the man, hand still outstretched to open the door, hesitated, blinking in surprise.
            Staying right where he was, the young nobleman started chanting out the words of a spell.
            The Baba points at the man in the midst of the zombies. "The rotting man is a huecuva, a spreader of blight disease and channeler of necromantic energy. Only magical or silver weapons will be fully effective against it. We must slay it." With that, he flings his dagger at the creature, then draws his pick from its loop on his belt.
            The dagger bounced off the huecuva's guardsman armor, and its rot-shredded face curled into a mask of viciousness and seething hatred. "How did you get down here?" it asked, raising fingers with nails so long they could only be called claws.
            "Right, destroy the scary rotting dude," Syd commented wryly. Still, he switched his longsword to his off-hand, and drew the silver dagger he had found last time. Stepping up to the open door, he fisted the dagger and stabbed it towards the huecuva. Unfortunately the other door blocked him more than he expected and he missed the creature.
            "Only magic," The Baba had said. Caracals couldn't actually grin "like the cat that caught the canary," but if they could, Parant-the-caracal would have. Instead, he merely bared his fangs, and pounced. Unfortunately, he'd had to twist around the door that the Baba had opened, and instead of a clean spring, one of Parant's forepaws clipped the warped wood, which threw him off balance and off target. Worse, the cat had to twist away at the last second to avoid Syd's backswing, and Parant's teeth closed on nothing but air and stench. Still, the caracal managed to claw at the huecuva's leg, though it felt like only a glancing blow.
            The huecuva hissed in surprise as Parant's claws slashed his leg - but as the cat-man had suspected, the scratches weren't enough to badly hurt the thing. Talib cursed, doing his best to maneuver around Parant and slash at the monster, but the cover of the wall stymied his attack. "Honest steel is all I have, gods damn it!" he yelled.
            Recovering his wits, the huecuva snarled at the men before him. "Gods? Gods? I renounced you, do you hear? Still I am here! None of you can end me!" he screamed, clutching at the reversed symbol of Lliira on his chest. His words seemed archaic and stilted to their ears, though it was easy enough to understand him.
            But everyone in the party felt their vision blacken for a moment as a wave of pain and nausea rolled through them - only Gbele and Parant were able to withstand it to some degree. Something felt wrong, very wrong, inside of them. The taste of death in their mouths, the smell of it puffing from their lungs, they looked on as the huecuva let out an insane, gleeful cackle.
            Whatever it was, it wasn't smart. It hadn't even tried to open the door to allow its zombies to attack, or stepped back to get out of harm's way. But how long could that last?
            An arm reached for Parant from behind the still-closed door, but just as the huecuva had used the wall to its advantage, he used the door to his, and escaped with nothing but the sinking feeling in his stomach.
            Behind the monsters by the door, two more zombies milled about restlessly, groaning in plaintive hunger. Now that the party could see them properly, they could see that the zombies' bellies were distended to the point of breaking already, but it didn't seem to assuage their hunger.
            There was a sudden flurry of flapping as an eagle appeared out of nowhere behind the pack at the doors. It descended on the nearest zombie in a fury at Jabari's indication, ripping away shreds of blackened, rotten meat - but with nowhere to maneuver in the narrow tunnel, it was forced to drop to the ground. But Jabari wasn't done. He continued to chant.
            "What the-" Syd said as he raised his hands to his temples. Whatever that zombie-thats-not-a-zombie said, it hurt a lot . As soon as his vision cleared, he focused on his enemy. "You're just a little overconfident, aren't you?" he commented to the thing. His arm struck out again, this time compensating for the door.
            Unfortunately, his dagger was turned aside by the monster's armor due to the angle at which the door forced him to attack. The thing whipped his head around to glare at Syd. "Who do you think you are?" he bellowed. "I'll kill you all!"
            Parant felt life slipping from him. But he would not simply let go, and let it slip from an open grasp. No. This thing, and the evil it represented, would fall as well. At least, that is what he told himself as he launched his attacks. But the weakness within him, the leaching sting of death that the enemy had brought forth, it proved too much for him, and his claws and teeth seemed to be avoided or battered away with simple ease. Realizing that he was merely getting in the way of his companions, Parant-the-Caracal staggered back and away from the door, coming to rest against the base of a stone pillar.
            Talib and Gbele held back, hoping the fresh blood would lure the monster into the room - which it didn't. Instead, with no regard to its own safety, it barged after Syd out of pure stupidity. "I'll kill you!" it frothed pinkly, swiping at him with long nails - but the agile elf had no trouble avoiding the attack.
            Behind it, the zombies' attention had been attracted by the violent flapping of the eagle. It caused a commotion, but what happened wasn't clear, beyond its pained screech. Jabari could see its wings rise up to shoulder level as the zombie clutched it. Then its calling was silenced as another zombie brought its hands down on it. The zombies congregated on the now unresisting bird.
            The holy man was surprised enough to see the ancient undead creature move into the midst of the fight that he actually raised an eyebrow and let out a short, subdued laugh. Having waited for this opportunity, Gbele swung his pick at the thing without hesitation.
            Though the chainmail it wore was rusty, and in many places broken, it saved the monster from Baba Gbele's wrath. The attack drew its attention, and it snarled, "Don't you laugh at me! She laughed, and now look at me! I'm invincible!"
            Talib slashed his scimitar across the monster's back as it turned toward Syd - but it barely seemed to notice. "Hey, ugly, we're going to lock you down here forever," he called, attempting to provoke it into leaving Syd be and focusing on him. It seemed to work. The man screamed, "NO! You'll never leave here alive!" And he turned, presenting Syd with his back.
            Jabari shook his head when he heard the zombies feasting on the eagle, but kept casting to summon another. It was doing what he wanted it to do, after all- distract the monsters.
            As the first bird was gruesomely dismembered, a second flashed into existence at Jabari's call, and flew at the nearest of the zombies. Jabari couldn't see what happened to it behind the closed door, but there was a loud thump under the bird's furious cries.
            Syd pulled back when the huecuva swiped at him. The memory of nearly dying from the zombies on the beach returning to mind. He gritted his teeth and focused on his enemy. The best defense, sometimes, was a strong offense. When the thing turned it's back, he grinned toothily at the opportunity. He gripped his silver dagger in both hands and drove it to the hilt into the huecuva's rotting flesh. "No, you die! Return to the grave where you belong."
            Or at least, he intended to drive it into the huecuva's back. But the rusty chainmail proved just resilient enough to thwart his attack. The thing grimaced at the impact, then spun again, so angry he didn't know which way to turn. "You'll all die here!"
            Parant-the-Caracal looked up, wearily. The... thing had followed him into the room. With his back to the pillar, Parant had no where to safely retreat to shift his form.
            But he did have his companions. And they surrounded the bloody, evil abomination.
            Parant summoned his strength and launched himself back into the fray, ducking between the Baba and Talib, and ripping into the unprotected legs of his enemy.
            The caracal was a flensing machine, an ball of angry fur and claws. The huecuva yelled in dismay as Parant all but shredded him.
            "No! Impossible! I'm invincible!" he screamed, clutching at his upside-down talisman desperately with a hand now missing fingers. His hand flopped a little, one of its tendons bitten over, but he managed to grasp the holy symbol. "Do you hear? I renounced you! Your power is mine!"
            A wave of fatigue struck everyone in the room then, as fleeting as the wave of pain had been, and much less traumatic. But the huecuva's deep, ragged claw and bite wounds smoothed out a little, and he brandished his talisman triumphantly, actually capering a tiny bit.
            "I told you! I told you!" he laughed, sounding quite insane. "She was wrong! I win!"
            From the suddenly alarmed eagle cries in the hall behind him, then more grisly eating noises, Jabari suspected that his second eagle had suffered the same fate as the first.
            The holy man decided that he preferred the undead he faced to be mindless and unspeaking. This ancient creature was surprisingly comical, and almost seemed pathetic. This was an easy way to underestimate it, which they would regret dearly. The Baba focused on its destruction.
            Like Talib, Gbele's attacks were unable to penetrate the thing's armor effectively, rusty though it was. It laughed, capering gleefully as it turned the strongest of blows into glancing ones against its mail.
            Syd swore, even as the creature rambled madly. His over-confidence was defeated by a set of stupid rusty chainmail. He shook his head, but attacked again with the dagger. "Hold still, dammit," he complained as his strikes continued to whiff the air around the huecuva as it flailed around.
            The thing finally stopped capering, turning towards Syd with a gruesome smile. "You'll be the one holding still! Forever!" It seemed very proud of this pronouncement, and began to advance on the rogue, though when it spoke, it no longer seemed to be addressing him. "I renounce you forever, and the dark powers that grant me-"
            There was no way Parant was going to let the damned creature before him channel that dark energy again. It clearly didn't realize how close to death he and his companions already were. Had it chosen to channel its power to harm again, rather than to heal itself... he let the thought pass. No sense in dwelling on it. Instead, Parant-the-caracal took a brief moment to be grateful for what was, rather than what could have been.
            Then, he set to once more with claws and teeth.
            Unfortunately, his hesitation had given the damned thing time to see him coming, and Parant's claws connected with nothing but air. When his teeth closed on rotting hamstring muscle, Parant wasn't sure whether to be grateful or not.
            The startled creature collapsed as his leg gave out, and he screeched, "NO! Impossible! I renounced her! I'm inv-"
            Parant didn't wait for more ranting. The thing's neck was right there.
            The cat latched his teeth into the huecuva's neck and twisted. There was a crackle of spine snapping, and the monster went limp, only its mouth gnashing in vain at the indignity of it. Its head glared at Parant from close range, impotent to end the cat's life now.
            And slowly, slowly, the mad light in its eyes began to fade.

            The Huecuva finally down, Syd breathed a sigh of relief, though he was sure it was to be short lived. There were still zombies in that room. He dropped the silver dagger and drew his longsword in preparation for the zombie's eventual turn towards them. He focused on the doorway, preparing to chop off a piece of the first walking dead that comes through.
            The holy man had absolutely no intention of walking into the room with the zombies. He waits in the superior tactical position, pick at the ready to strike if one of the dead shuffles into their kill zone.
            Tired and feeling worn out even though he'd barely done anything, Jabari took a deep breath and looked over his shoulder to make sure they weren't about to get ambushed while the others went in to finish off the zombies.
            Parant-the-cat looked up from the dead... thing on the ground in front of him. Then he looked up at the zombies in the other room.
            The cat closed his gold-and-blue eyes, looking exhausted for a moment. Then, his form blurred and shifted, and Parant-the-man knelt on the floor in the cat's place. With a soft grunt, he stood, stepped to the door, and closed it.
            "Let's make sure we're ready, first," he said quietly.
            The low groans on the other side of the door indicated the zombies' dissatisfaction with the last eagle vanishing from between their teeth, but other than that, there was no indication that they had realized their real prey was now safe from them.
            With one foot placed to keep the door closed, Parant looked down at the dead huecuva. He took in a deep breath, spat, and then let the breath out. After a moment, Parant looked... better... somehow. Like the knowledge that they'd taken down such a dangerous enemy and rid the land of its polluting touch had reinvigorated him, brushed the foul taint of the creature's powers from his spirit. He rolled his shoulders, testing his range of motion, then frowned. Making a decision, Parant set to unstrapping and unbuckling the lacquered leather cuirass he wore. "Too constricting," he muttered quietly.
            When he'd gotten the breastplate and shoulder pauldrons off, Parant looked up at the others and spoke, softly. "Would any of you benefit from this?"
            Syd shook his head at the armor, "I don't need it."
            "Nor I," Talib agreed.
            The armor's immediate fate decided, Parant pointed a thumb over his shoulder and asked, "Do we finish them, or leave the door closed until we're sure what is or isn't behind us?" He nodded meaningfully towards another door in the wall behind them.
            Syd regarded the door and the groans from the other side. He cracked his neck and loosened his limbs with the brief respite. He also slipped the silver dagger back into his belt and pulled his longsword from it's scabbard. He then glanced back at the other door and then back to this one. "We don't know what's back there, if anything. We know we have enemies here. Let's take care of the zombies first. If anyone needs healing, now is the time."
            The Baba simply nodded at the evident wisdom in Syd's words. He had no healing left to offer, and no preparations to make. He was in a good position to attack whatever came out of the room, so there was nothing for it but to await the decision to act. His armor was similar to the set Parant was discarding, so he declined the offer.
            Talib shrugged. "We know there's danger here. The doors all seem to stick, so at least we won't be surprised if there's anything behind the other door that comes out."
            "Right," Parant nodded, then quickly (though not hurriedly) removed his pack, tucked the armor into it, and slung it on his back once more. "Let's be at it then, shall we?"
            After making sure that his companions were ready, Parant pulled the door open and stepped back once again to stand beside the Baba, the pillar to his left-rear, claws and fangs at the ready (though he did not return to feline form). "Hello, boys, time to join your friends," he said.
            And with a flurry of violence, that was exactly what happened. The first zombie turned and charged toward them, only to be cut down by the party, and when the second zombie bumbled out to reach for them, Syd carefully stabbed it in the spine as it threatened Gbele, and it dropped like a moldy sack of potatos.
            Searching the dead took little time; the ancient zombies had nothing of value, but the heucuva's defiled golden symbol of Lliira could probably be sold - as well as its rusty chainmail, though its value was likely to be under what a suit in good repair might garner.
            Syd took a breath and wiped the rotten ichor off his longsword with an equally rotten zombie shirt. "That went a lot better," he commented, glancing between the corridor the zombies were in and the door behind them. "Seems there's a corridor here. I'd suggest checking out that door," he hiked a thumb behind them, "before moving further on."
            The Baba nodded, and walked over to the door.
            Parant also nodded, followed the Baba to the door, and positioned himself beside it, prepared to attack anything hostile that might lunge out when the door opened.
            As it turned out, however, there were no moldy ancient dead hiding in the twisting corridor beyond, or the rooms and halls beyond that. Parant made sure to open each warped door, leaving it open in case they needed a quick exit, but nothing more menacing than the angry crabs in the tide pool threatened them.
            Venturing back to where the huecuva had come from, they cautiously made their way down the passage until they reached a flooded chamber, the water sloshing against the stone. Going back, they peered past the open doors into a room that must have been the huecuva's lair. The grisly remains of what must have been the remainder of the Watch patrols on the island were best left unexamined.
            Syd set about carefully going over the walls of the huecuva's lair, searching for some sign that there was a hidden room or compartment there... but he found nothing but grisly remains of the Watch, and fevered scratchings on the stone that must have belonged to the huecuva himself, if the rambling ranting was any indicator.
            Syd carefully stepped over the festering corpses while he looked over the Huecuva's lair. He frowned deeply, staring at the walls. "I was so sure there was a secret passage in here." He turned towards the others, "There's gotta be something down here. Vanthus didn't just disappear into thin air, unless he has a powerful mage we didn't know about."
            The others took up the search with him, and they went over the abandoned smuggler's tunnels with a fine-toothed comb... but they found nothing but moldering bits of old equipment, left behind when the smugglers left the island.
            That left only the flooded tunnel on the far side of the lair.
            Now that the tide was low, the shallow water had retreated, making the tunnel merely slippery. Water droplets glistened on the long spines of the myriad sea urchins that lined the walls, a reminder of the consequences of a moment's inattention to footing.
            Despite the low tide, there was a steep dropoff in the tunnel that was still filled with water; the sloshing coming from farther down the tunnel suggested more water deeper in, with a strong current lacking here now. By the light of Gbele's ioun stone, Syd thought he glimpsed another stretch of relatively dry stone farther in to the left, as well as another patch of urchin-choked tunnel to the right.
            The holy man pulls a length of rough hemp rope from his pack. "We should tie ourselves together, I think." As he plays the rope out to his companions, he adds, "Does anyone know when the tide returns?"
            "We should have another hour or so before it starts coming in again," Talib answered as he tied his end of the rope around his waist.
            With everyone but Parant (who had refused the rope) secured, they swam to the next rocky portion, and found deeper water beyond it. It was ten feet down and murky, even with the tide out, and there was a current beneath the water, suggesting a connection to the sea.
            With Gbele's glowing rock circling his head, they swam out into it, rounding a corner to a large cave with a bit of dryer rock at the far end with another tunnel chiseled into it - and once they reached it, they saw that there was a door at the end of the short tunnel.
            Syd wrung out his shirt tails, though it made little difference to his overall wetness. He then proceeded to untie himself from the group, passing the rope back to Gbele. "Well, that was unpleasant. It would be worse at high tide, I imagine." The door they reached interested him, however. "Let's see what's here."
            Syd looked over the area, and with no traps to be found, checked the door. The latch operated, but he couldn't move the door. "Damn, it's barred," he complained, staring at the door. "Anyone game for breaking it down?"
            Parant moved up quietly to inspect the door. The wood looked like it was swollen in its frame, but recently opened. Around the edges, Parant judged that with some effort, he might be able to break through it. Then, in the dark, he smiled. Reaching into his bandoleer, he removed a glass flask. Carefully, he removed the stopper, and began to pour the contents - acid - on the door, letting it eat through the wood near the hinges. Then he motioned to the Baba.
            "The door is weakened," Parant said, softly, "perhaps, together, we can break it down."
            Seeing Parant weaken the door, and realizing the urgency of the situation, the burly inquisitor took a few steps for momentum then crashed into the door with his shoulder.
            They backed up, and charged the door - and suddenly, a powerful wind blasted at their backs, propelling them forward. They smashed through the splintering door, and into a small room beyond.
            Parant, at least, had guessed what they might find there, for the smell of death and corruption was thick in the room; a cloying stink of rotten meat rising from the bloated, seeping body slumped in the middle of the floor - but it did not rise to attack them. The corpse's dark, almost black flesh bulged against its fine studded armor, ready to burst at the slightest touch - indeed, its rotting insides bulged against several deep claw wounds. An intricate tattoo of a dragon clutching a flower was barely visible on his shoulder against the diseased flesh, and clutched in one hand was a crumpled scroll.
            "Faugh! Is it another one of the ancient dead?" Talib called down the tunnel after the thick smell rolled out in a wave. He drew his scimitar, but was forced to cover his nose and mouth with his arm and turn away.
            Managing - barely - not to gag, Parant looked carefully around the room.
            "It is not ancient," he said to Talib, "but most certainly dead. Be careful of the body - I smell disease." Then his eyes narrowed under his hood, and he pointed. "There is something suspicious about that wall."
            They found that they were able to push the heavy stone in and to the side, and beyond, a slightly larger room with the dead air of years of disuse opened to them, containing three large sea chests.
            Syd was immediately drawn to the chests. What might be hiding down here, behind a hidden door? The smugglers seem to have long abandoned the place, these have probably been here the whole time. He looked each over, just to make sure. confident they weren't trapped, he tested each for a potential lock. As expected, they were. "Locked," he commented even as he fished his lock picks out of a belt pouch. Syd knelt in the dust and got to work, taking his time with each lock. After a while, a telltale CLICK told him the lock was defeated. He cracked each open, marveling at the treasures within.
            "This is going to be heavy to carry through the flooded passages," he said at the coin-and-gem filled boxes. "We should probably hunker down until the tide retreats again, to make our exit easier. Obviously the sea never encroached upon this chamber, else it would be a lot damper in here."
            While Syd worked on the chests, Parant, as carefully as he could, tried to tug the scroll free of the dead man's grasp.
            Unfortunately, whether it was the stench, fatigue from their struggles so far, or merely bad luck, Parant's usual grace eluded him.
            The corpse's fingers tugged at the scroll as he tried to free it, its arm rising up with the paper as Parant tugged. Then the arm splatted back onto the floor in another gust of stench from the body, fingers leaving a disgustig smear of rotten flesh in a streak on the scroll.
            The holy man stood relatively near Parant, interested in reading the contents of the scroll once it was secured. He occupied himself inspecting (without touching) the corpse. Gbele took out a square of parchment and a quill, and drew a reasonable facsimile of the dragon tattoo so he wouldn't forget what it looked like.
            Or at least, he intended to. Pulling out his scroll case, Gbele realized the water had ruined his parchment. Taking a closer look at the body, Gbele noted the jagged claw marks, the state of corruption, and other details; he judged that the claw wounds alone had not killed this man - it was likely disease, as Parant had suspected. It seemed unlikely that the corpse was still infectious, however. He had been dead for some time (though certainly not years, like the ancient zombies), and the rot and bloating seemed a natural result of it.
            Carefully examining the body, he judged that its armor would be somewhat valuable if cleaned - it had been quite fine, once. There was a gold ring digging into one bloated finger on the body, and hidden in its boot, he found a well-crafted dagger.
            Closing his eyes, he asked Ubtao for the power to see the Weave, but when he opened his eyes, nothing was wrapped in its glowing strands the way he had expected.
            Talib joined Syd in trying to think of a way to move the found treasure of the smugglers, but at the heavy chest of coins he was forced to shrug. "Maybe leave them for now, and come back when it's low tide again, like you said. We can try to close the wall again, in case somebody actually comes down here, or in case the water gets higher than we thought."
            Syd nodded, "Indeed. The rest seems manageable for now. We can come back with sacks for the copper and silver coin."
            Jabari didn't seem particularly interested in the chest of coins, but he did look closely at the potion vials. The young nobleman nodded at Syd. "That sounds good. It'll be more manageable once we don't have to make that swim."
            Satisfied with Syd's plan, the holy man helped to carry the loot as described.
            Parant just nodded. He handed the scroll around for the others to view, then accepted whatever share of the load seemed prudent.
            As the loot from the chests was being secured, the holy man removed the valuables from the man with the dragon tatoo. He paused to cast a simple spell once he had collected the items.
            None of the things Penkus had worn showed the glowing threads of the Weave woven into them.
            With no objections to his plan, Syd proceeded to hand out the sacks of gold, potions, and other treasures they found, leaving just the chest full of loose coins. "Someone get that gear off of Penkus. He doesn't need it anymore. Talib, if you care to offer the man a burial at sea, we can shove him into the void."
            Talib looked at the pool of water doubtfully. "It does seem wrong to leave a body here, but... I think it will just slosh around in this pool if we dump it in. I don't know about you, but if we're coming back, I don't want to swim in Penkus soup."
            The treasures secured, Syd closed the chest of coins and retreated out of the secret compartment. He activated the mechanism to close the door, now that they knew where it was. He then bade Gbele the use of his rope once more so that they could tie themselves together for the trip out, albeit about 50lb heavier than they came in. Once back on dry land and untied again, he turned to the others, "We should probably just go to Lavinia's. I don't think any of us has an abode secure enough for this kind of haul, and she might just have a place. Dealing with adventurers on a daily basis and all. Unless you guys think we should go to the Moneylenders?"
            "Lavinia's for now," Parant said, "We can find a place from there. I'm not worried about what we're carrying now, but the rest is too much to not know where we're going when we grab it."