Arcane Fang

## 8. The Forgotten Path The ruins stretched on, an unending maze of ancient halls shrouded in a faint blue glow. The walls, etched with intricate **Primekin carvings**, whispered of a forgotten past. Figures intertwined with swirling Aetheric energy adorned the stone, their forms both awe-inspiring and unsettling. Calwyn's amber eyes scanned the carvings as he walked, the weight of history pressing down on him. Beside him, Vera moved quietly, her golden gaze sharp and alert. ### 8.1. The Hall of Echoes Their path led them to a long hall, its vaulted ceiling soaring high into the shadows above. Stone pillars, evenly spaced along the walls, stood as silent sentinels, their surfaces adorned with intricate carvings of swirling patterns and humanoid figures. The faint blue glow of Aetheric energy traced the carvings, casting shifting reflections across the ancient stone floor. As Calwyn and Vera moved deeper into the hall, the glow along the walls became brighter, the carvings growing more intricate and purposeful. Far in the distance, hundreds of meters away, the faint outline of an enormous door loomed at the far end of the hall. Its surface appeared to shimmer faintly, as though alive with energy, and even from this distance, its size was imposing. The massive door seemed to beckon them forward, its presence a silent promise of answers-or danger. Calwyn slowed his pace, his fingers brushing lightly against a carving etched into one of the stone pillars. "This place feels like it's leading us somewhere," he murmured, his voice barely breaking the silence of the hall. Vera's ears flicked, her golden eyes scanning the faintly glowing carvings that lined the walls. Her tail swayed with measured movements as she stepped closer, following his gaze. "Then let's find out where," she replied, her tone steady but carrying a hint of wariness. The hum of energy in the air grew stronger with each step toward the distant door. Before they could reach it, their path was interrupted by the remnants of a collapsed wall, the jagged debris partially blocking another entrance. The faint glow of carvings on the exposed stone hinted at something beyond. Calwyn crouched, examining the rubble. "Help me clear this," he said, his amber eyes narrowing in focus. Together, they worked to shift the smaller stones, the grinding of rock against rock echoing through the chamber. After a few tense moments, they revealed a low archway etched with elaborate Primekin symbols, their glow pulsing faintly as though reacting to their presence. ### 8.2. The Hidden Chamber Inside, the chamber was smaller and more confined, its design far simpler than the grandeur of the hall they had just left. The walls, however, were alive with carvings-figures and symbols so densely packed they seemed to tell an entire story. A faint, rhythmic glow pulsed through the room, emanating from the carvings themselves. Calwyn stepped in cautiously, his amber eyes scanning the room as the faint glow of the carvings cast shifting patterns across the walls. "These carvings," he murmured, gesturing toward the intricate symbols, "they're more than decorative. They're deliberate-like they're telling a story or giving instructions." Vera crouched by a set of symbols near the base of the wall, her claws lightly tracing the grooves. "Instructions for what, exactly?" she asked, her voice skeptical. "Surviving this deathtrap? Or becoming one with it?" Calwyn chuckled softly, a dry sound. "Could be both. The Primekin had a way of blending those two ideas. You either understood their brilliance, or you became a warning for the next person who tried." Vera tilted her head, her golden eyes narrowing as she studied the glowing designs. "You talk about them like they were gods or something. What's with the reverence?" "It's not reverence," Calwyn replied, his tone more serious now. "It's... fascination. They were ahead of their time-manipulating Aether, creating things no one else could. But they paid a price for it. From what I've seen in other ruins, they weren't just arrogant; they were desperate. Some of the carvings I've come across before-they hint at a disease spreading among them. Something they couldn't stop." Vera's ears flicked, her golden eyes narrowing. "A disease? You think that's why they went this far, in this search for power?" "It's possible," Calwyn said, his fingers tracing one of the glowing symbols. "If their entire civilization was at stake, it would explain the urgency-the extremes. Maybe they sought knowledge and power not just out of greed but out of fear. And in their desperation, they might have gone too far." He glanced at her, his amber eyes darkening. "What's worse is they might not have had a choice." "Choice or not, they didn't care who they hurt," Vera muttered, her claws tapping the stone. "If these carvings mean anything, they sacrificed lives to save their own. That's not desperation. That's cruelty." The carvings depicted figures standing over smaller, frailer forms, their hands extended as if drawing energy or life itself. Beneath them, twisted shapes-half-human, half-animals-seemed to writhe in agony. A series of intricate symbols surrounded the scene, glowing faintly, as though the carvings themselves carried the weight of the acts they portrayed. Calwyn didn't argue, his gaze fixed on the intricate lines. "Maybe. Or maybe they thought they were doing what they had to. Either way, it didn't save them. Whatever they feared still consumed them in the end." Vera straightened, crossing her arms as she leaned against a nearby pillar. "So, you admire their ambition, but not their methods. Typical human contradiction." Calwyn shot her a sidelong glance, his lips twitching into a faint smirk. "I'm not defending them, if that's what you're thinking. But understanding their mistakes might keep us from repeating them." Vera's ears flicked as she considered his words. "You're not afraid of them, are you? These Primekin and their warnings-they don't faze you." Calwyn hesitated, his fingers brushing against a particularly intricate carving. "Fear's not the right word. It's more like... respect. Whatever's hidden in this ruins, they didn't want it falling into the wrong hands." "Or maybe they didn't want anyone's hands on it," Vera countered. She stepped closer, her tail flicking slightly. "So why are we doing this? What are you really hoping to find here?" Calwyn's gaze didn't waver from the carving as he replied, his voice quiet. "Answers. About them, about why all of this still feels alive. And maybe, if we're lucky, something that can help us survive what's coming next." Vera studied him for a moment, her expression unreadable. "Again... You're a strange one, Cal," she said finally. Before he could respond, his fingers paused over a faintly recessed panel near the far wall. "There's something here," he said, pressing against the stone. The carvings around it seemed to brighten, their light pulsing faintly in response. Vera moved to his side, her hand resting lightly on the hilt of her short sword. "If this opens a portal to another mess," she muttered, "you owe me a lot more than answers." --- The faint glow from the carvings brightened as the panel slid open, revealing a hidden receptacle. Within lay an **armband of unknown metal**, its surface etched with glowing symbols similar to those on the walls. The armband pulsed faintly as Calwyn reached for it, almost as if it were alive, responding to his presence. Vera crossed her arms, her golden eyes narrowing. "That's what all this was hiding?" she asked, her tone skeptical. "Doesn't look like much for all the effort." Calwyn turned the armband over in his hands, his brow furrowed. "Primekin craftsmanship," he murmured. "It's intricate-designed for something specific." He hesitated before continuing, "I don't think it's just a decoration. But... it doesn't make sense yet." The carvings on the walls dimmed slightly, their glow receding as if acknowledging the removal of the artifact. The air in the chamber grew heavier, an almost imperceptible tension settling over them. Vera's ears flicked, and she took a cautious step back toward the entrance. "This place has been buried for a reason," she said quietly, her fingers brushing the hilt of her sword. "We should leave before we end up like the last people who came down here." Calwyn lingered, his gaze flitting between the armband and the carvings. "There's more to this," he said, almost to himself. His eyes traced a series of symbols near the receptacle, the shapes vaguely reminiscent of the ones on the medallion they had found earlier. "Whatever this is... it's part of something bigger. But we're missing pieces." Vera sighed, her tail flicking in irritation. "Then let's figure it out somewhere else. Staying here feels like asking for trouble." After a moment, Calwyn slipped the armband into his pack, casting one last look at the chamber and its carvings. "You're right," he said finally, his tone reluctant. "We've stirred enough for now." They exchanged a glance, the weight of their discovery hanging unspoken between them. As they stepped back into the hall, the faint hum of Aetheric energy followed them, a quiet reminder that the ruins were far from silent. ### 8.3 The Primekin's History Unveiled The hall stretched on, its end still faintly visible in the distance. The faint blue glow of Aetheric carvings cast wavering shadows along the walls as Calwyn and Vera moved cautiously forward. Their footsteps echoed softly in the vast emptiness, swallowed by the damp, metallic air. As they progressed, the carvings grew increasingly intricate. The humanoid figures they had seen before now appeared locked in strange rituals, streams of energy flowing between them. The pillars lining the hall seemed more elaborate, each one etched with detailed depictions of both triumph and despair. "This place... it's almost like a record," Calwyn murmured, his amber eyes scanning the carvings. "They weren't just building-it's like they were trying to leave behind something important." Vera's ears flicked in mild irritation. "Or they were just too full of themselves to let anyone forget them," she countered. But there was a flicker of unease in her tone. Ahead, a wide doorway came into view on the right-hand side wall, its heavy stone frame bearing even more carvings. As they stepped closer, the air grew heavier, the faint hum of energy intensifying. Beyond the doorway lay another chamber, small but still imposing. The walls here were dominated by carvings that spiraled upward, depicting a desperate story. At the base, the figures looked proud, their features humanoid-like and refined, their hands wielding spheres of glowing energy. But as the carvings climbed higher, the story darkened. The figures twisted and changed, their forms merging with monstrous shapes. Streams of energy flowed into them from others who knelt or were bound, their faces carved with expressions of anguish. Near the top, the figures seemed more monstrous than human, their once-regal postures now warped and grotesque. Calwyn stopped, his eyes fixed on the carvings. He traced a hand over the images, his voice barely above a whisper. "It wasn't just about power," he said. "It's desperation. Look at them-their faces, their forms. Whatever they were trying to stop... it drove them to this." Vera's golden eyes scanned the carvings, her jaw tightening. "They experimented on their own people," she said, her voice hard. "Sacrificing lives just to save themselves." "Maybe they thought it was the only way," Calwyn replied, his tone calm but somber. "Whatever threatened them must have been catastrophic. Disease, war, something worse. But even this..." He gestured to the upper carvings. "It wasn't enough. They still fell." The silence between them was heavy as they absorbed the implications. Vera's claws flexed against the hilt of her sword, her tail swaying restlessly. "And now the humans are after the same thing," she said bitterly. "Thinking they'll do it better." Calwyn's gaze hardened as he turned to her. "Not all humans," he said quietly but firmly. "You're not fighting every human, Vera-just the ones who'd repeat this madness." His amber eyes met hers, unwavering. "I'm here, too. Don't forget that." Vera's ears twitched, and for a moment, her expression softened. She glanced away, her voice quieter but no less resolute. "I haven't forgotten," she said, her gaze dropping briefly as she dipped her head. "Sorry." Her tail flicked once before she straightened. "Let's just hope we're enough to stop them." Her gaze lingered on the carvings, on the faces frozen in anguish. Then she nodded, her determination reasserting itself. "Let's keep moving," she said. "The sooner we stop them, and find my mother, the better." They pressed forward, leaving the chamber behind but carrying its grim legacy with them. The path ahead remained shrouded in uncertainty, but their resolve to uncover the truth-and stop the humans-burned brighter with each step. ### 8.4. How did they actually opened these doors? The hall was comming to an end before them, the faint hum of Aetheric energy resonating with each step. Vera's ears twitched at the distant sound of voices carried through the still air. Calwyn moved beside her, his amber eyes locked on the faintly glowing carvings that seemed to grow denser as they neared their destination. Then, at the end of the hall, the colossal door they have been seying for a while now. It was partially ajar, towered high enough to dwarf even the largest Primekin carvings they had encountered. Its surface bore intricate engravings-twisting spirals of figures and symbols that seemed to pulse faintly in the dim light. Vera hesitated, her tail flicking once. "This is it," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "What do you think's inside?" Calwyn studied the door, his gaze narrowing. "Whatever it is, the soldiers thought it was worth guarding. Stay sharp." As they drew closer, the faint echo of activity from beyond the door grew clearer-voices, the clatter of metal, and the unmistakable crackle of fire. Vera crouched, peering through the partially open door. "Guards," she murmured, her voice tense. "A lot of them." --- Calwyn knelt beside her, his sharp eyes scanning the scene beyond the doorway. The sheer size of the chamber beyond took his breath away. The ceiling soared high above, shrouded in darkness except where two jagged holes let in beams of sunlight, cutting through the gloom like celestial swords. The beams illuminated sections of the expansive room, revealing its staggering dimensions-nearly a hundred meters wide and just as long. The chamber's walls were lined with alcoves, some stacked with crates and weapons, others used as crude storage. Massive stone pillars, their surfaces worn with age, supported the distant ceiling, creating natural barriers that divided the room into sections. Shadows pooled between the beams of light, offering potential cover but also hiding unknown dangers. At the room's center, a cluster of tents flanked a makeshift kitchen, where the flicker of a fire illuminated several guards seated around a crude table. Others patrolled the perimeter or lounged near weapon racks, their voices mingling with the clatter of equipment. Vera's grip on her short sword tightened. "This isn't just a patrol. It's a camp." Calwyn nodded grimly. "Eight guards," he said, his voice low. "Three near the tents, two guarding the weapon racks and supplies, one by the far alcoves, and two more at the door on the opposite side." "We can't take them all at once," Vera whispered, her golden eyes narrowing. "We'll need to pick them off one by one." "Agreed," Calwyn replied, his mind already racing. He pointed to the shadowed alcoves to their left. "That's our way in. We'll start with the one by the alcoves. Quietly." Vera glanced at him, a faint smirk tugging at her lips despite the tension. "You and your plans." "They've worked so far," Calwyn shot back, his tone light but firm. "Ready?" Vera exhaled, her focus sharpening as her tail stilled. "Let's do this." ### 8.5. One by One they will Fall Calwyn and Vera slipped through the partially open door, their movements synchronized as though they had trained together for years. The faint voices and clatter of the guards covered the soft sounds of their footsteps as they melted into the shadows of the massive chamber. The stone pillars provided natural cover, their towering forms dividing the room into pockets of light and dark. Their first target stood near the alcoves on the far left-a lone guard leaning lazily against a stack of crates, his spear propped against the wall beside him. He yawned, his focus more on the firelight flickering across the chamber than on any potential threat. Calwyn raised his hand, signaling Vera to move. She nodded, her steps silent as she crept forward, her short sword gleaming faintly in the scattered light. Calwyn hung back, his bow drawn and ready, an arrow nocked and aimed at the guard's chest. His amber eyes darted between Vera and the other guards in the distance, watching for any sign of movement. Vera reached the target, her posture low and her blade angled. Her golden eyes flicked to Calwyn, who gave a subtle nod. With a swift and deliberate motion, she clamped her free hand over the guard's mouth and drove the blade into the soft flesh at the base of his neck. The guard's eyes widened in shock, his body convulsing once before going limp. Vera eased the guard's body to the ground, her every movement controlled to minimize noise. She wiped the blade on the guard's tunic before glancing back at Calwyn, who gave her a thumbs-up and a faint smirk. He whispered, barely audible over the ambient noise, "One down." Vera nodded, her gaze shifting to their next target-the guards stationed near the weapon racks, one intent at polishing a sword while the other is writing on a parchment of paper while takin note of the supplies and the weapons. She gestured toward the shadows ahead, signaling Calwyn to follow her deeper into the room. Calwyn moved cautiously, his bow still drawn, the tension in his arms steady as he scanned the room. They would need to be just as precise with every takedown if they hoped to clear the barracks without raising the alarm. The silence between them spoke volumes, a shared understanding forged in the crucible of survival. Every step brought them closer to the next challenge, and they knew the stakes couldn't be higher. --- Vera's eyes narrowed as she observed the two guards near the weapon rack, their voices low but relaxed. One of them was polishing a sword, the other working on the inventory, a spear strapped on his back. They stood apart from the heart of the camp, their position shielded from the main activity by a huge boulder. She gestured toward the pair, her hand signaling a two-target takedown. Calwyn's amber eyes followed her gaze, quickly assessing the situation. He nodded, his bowstring already taut, an arrow nocked and aimed at the spearman. Vera's fingers flicked twice, a silent countdown. She moved first. With feline precision, Vera darted toward the guard polishing the sword. The low murmur of their conversation masked the faint scrape of her boots against the stone. Her short sword gleamed faintly in the dim light as she approached the first target from behind. Calwyn shifted slightly, his stance steady, his bow following the spearman's subtle movements. The moment Vera closed in, he released the arrow. It flew silently across the distance, striking the spearman squarely in the throat. The man staggered back, as he grasped at the shaft embedded in his neck, choking on his last breath. The faint thud of his body hitting the ground coincided with Vera's attack. She drove her blade up and into the soft base of the sword-wielding guard's skull. The man barely had time to gasp as the blade found its mark. She caught the enemy's sword and eased his body forward, preventing the metallic clatter of the blade hitting the floor. Calwyn was already moving, his amber eyes darting across the camp for any sign of disturbance. Satisfied that the noise hadn't drawn attention, he turned his focus back to Vera, who was wiping her blade on the fallen guard's tunic before retrieving his arrow. Vera handed it back to him, her voice a low whisper. "Two more. They haven't noticed us yet." Calwyn smirked faintly, sliding the arrow into his quiver. "Let's make sure they never do." They exchanged a quick glance before disappearing back into the shadows, their movements seamless as they prepared for the next step of their plan. The towering pillars and sprawling camp layout gave them just enough cover to press their advantage-but they knew the margin for error was razor-thin. --- The towering door loomed in the far end of the colossal chamber, a hulking shadow in the faint light spilling from the gaps in the ceiling. Two guards stood at its base, flanking the entrance. One leaned casually on his spear, his gaze sweeping lazily across the room, while the other adjusted his sword belt, muttering something inaudible. Calwyn and Vera crouched behind a massive pillar, the cold stone pressing against their backs. The faint hum of the camp in the distance filled the air, broken occasionally by muffled laughter or the clatter of pots. "They're not paying attention," Vera whispered, her eyes locked on the two figures. "We can take them." Calwyn nodded, drawing an arrow from his quiver and nocking it with practiced ease. "I'll keep watch," he murmured. "You handle the first one. If anything goes wrong, I'll cover you." Vera gave him a curt nod before slipping away, her movements fluid and silent. She skirted the edge of the chamber, keeping to the shadows as she circled toward the guards. Calwyn shifted his stance, his bowstring taut and ready, tracking the scene with sharp eyes. Vera closed the distance quickly, her blade catching a faint glint as she drew it free. The spear-wielding guard shifted his weight, turning slightly, but before he could react, Vera was on him. Her sword plunged into his back, angled upward to silence him swiftly. The man's body stiffened, and she caught him before he could crumple noisily to the ground. As she eased the body forward, her other hand caught the spear before it could clatter against the stone. The twang of Calwyn's bowstring cut through the air, just when the second guard turned, his brows furrowing in confusion as his companion slumped forward. The arrow missed the taget and logged into the man's shoulder. "Hey-" the guard bellowed, his voice rising in alarm. Yet, the damage was done-his shout echoed faintly through the massive chamber. The guard was alarmed, hand reaching for his blade. Vera lunged before he could draw, her sword plunging into his chest. The man's eyes widened in shock as he crumpled against her, his weight nearly pulling her off balance. From the camp's center, distant voices rose in confusion. "What was that?" someone called. The faint murmur of movement followed, shadows stirring in the flickering light of the makeshift barracks. "Damn it," Vera hissed, lowering the second guard to the ground as carefully as she could. Her sharp eyes darted toward the camp, her ears flattening against her head. With a quick motion he dislodged the arrow from the man's shoulder, and handed it to Calwyn. "That wasn't supposed to happen," Calwyn muttered, his amber eyes darting across the room. The camp center was already stirring-figures moving toward the source of the sound, their weapons gleaming in the dim light. "No time to complain," Vera growled, gripping her blade tighter. "They know we're here. What's the plan?" Calwyn gave a wry grin, despite the tension. "Plan? Oh, I was thinking we just wing it and hope for the best." Vera shot him a sharp look, but her smirk betrayed amusement. "Good. I like a challenge, time for the show." "Perfect. Let's make it look good, at least," Calwyn quipped, notching another arrow and scanning the approaching guards. The three guards at the center barked orders to each other, weapons drawn as they moved toward the shadows where Calwyn and Vera crouched. Their boots thudded against the stone floor, the sound reverberating through the enormous chamber. The fight was no longer a question of stealth but survival. The game had changed, and now they would have to adapt-or fall. ### 8.6. A (almost) Tactical Victory Calwyn drew his bowstring back, his amber eyes narrowing as he tracked the lead guard. The man was heavily armored, his sword reflecting the dim light from the holes in the ceiling. Calwyn aimed for the gap at his shoulder plate and released. The arrow flew true, but the guard twisted at the last moment, and the arrow skidded off the edge of his armor with a sharp clang. "Missed?" Vera hissed, already lunging forward. "Distracted him, didn't I?" Calwyn shot back, notching another arrow. The lead guard raised his sword, barking a warning to his companions, but Vera was already in motion. She surged toward him, her iron spear thrusting low. The tip struck his knee joint, and he bellowed in pain as he staggered. She followed up with a powerful upward strike, aiming for his exposed neck. The guard raised his sword in a desperate block, the force of the impact sending vibrations up her arms. The second guard closed in, a short axe in hand. He swung at Vera, forcing her to leap back. Calwyn loosed his second arrow, this time embedding it in the axe-wielder's thigh. The man grunted, his momentum faltering as he stumbled toward Vera. She took advantage, spinning low and sweeping his legs with the butt of her spear. He hit the ground hard, his weapon skittering out of reach. The third guard, a wiry man with twin daggers, darted toward Calwyn. His movements were fast, precise, and deadly. Calwyn barely had time to sidestep as one of the daggers slashed toward his ribs. Dropping his bow, he drew his short sword, parrying the second strike with a sharp clang of steel. "Vera!" Calwyn called out, his voice sharp but controlled as he parried another strike from the dagger-wielder. "I'm out with the bow-don't expect cover!" "I wasn't counting on it!" Vera shot back, her voice tight as she sidestepped the axe-wielder's wild swing, her spear spinning in a tight arc. "You know how to make a man feel appreciated," Calwyn quipped, narrowly deflecting a thrust with his short sword. His grin was fleeting but sharp, even as he ducked another strike. The dagger-wielder pressed his advantage, forcing Calwyn back toward one of the massive stone pillars. With a desperate feint, Calwyn parried low and drove his knee into the man's gut. The guard staggered, giving Calwyn the opening he needed. With a quick slash, he opened a gash across the man's forearm, forcing him to drop one of the daggers. Vera roared as she drove her spear into the axe-wielder's chest. The man gasped, blood bubbling at his lips before he slumped over. She spun just in time to block the lead guard's sword, her spear barely deflecting the heavy blow. The impact sent her stumbling back, her footing faltering near the campfire. "Calwyn!" she shouted, her voice sharp with urgency. The dagger-wielder lunged at Calwyn again, but this time Calwyn was ready. He sidestepped, hooking the man's ankle with his foot and sending him crashing to the ground. Without hesitation, Calwyn drove his short sword down, the blade sinking into the man's chest. He turned to see Vera locked in a brutal exchange with the lead guard. Sparks flew as her spear clashed against his sword, her movements precise but strained against his sheer strength. Calwyn grabbed his bow from the ground and notched an arrow. He took aim, breathing deeply to steady his hand. The arrow flew, striking the lead guard in the back of the knee. He roared in pain, his leg buckling as he dropped to one knee. Vera didn't hesitate. She stepped in, pivoting smoothly as she drove the tip of her spear into the gap beneath his helmet. The guard stiffened, his sword falling from his grasp before he collapsed to the ground. The chamber fell silent, save for the sound of their ragged breaths. Vera leaned on her spear, her golden eyes scanning the bodies to ensure none of them stirred. "See?" Calwyn said between breaths, a faint grin tugging at his lips. "Told you I'd distract him." Vera snorted, wiping blood from her brow. "Next time, try not to miss the first shot." "Next time, try not to need the backup," Calwyn retorted, sliding his short sword back into its sheath. She rolled her eyes but offered him a small, grudging smile. "Good work." They exchanged a brief nod before moving to check the bodies, the weight of the battle still heavy in the air. The faint hum of Aetheric energy from deeper in the ruins reminded them that their task was far from over. Calwyn scanned the aftermath of the battle, his sharp eyes locating the arrows he had loosed. The first protruded from the axe-wielder's thigh, and he retrieved it with a grunt, wiping the blood off on the guard's tunic before slipping it into his quiver. The second arrow jutted from the lead guard's knee, its shaft slightly splintered but still usable; he tugged it free and inspected it briefly before adding it to his collection. The last arrow, however, lay bent and useless where it had ricocheted off armor, and with a sigh, he discarded it onto the stone floor, its clatter echoing faintly in the now-silent chamber. "Two out of three," he muttered, the wry note in his voice cutting through the stillness. ### 8.7. We were Lucky The battle's echoes faded, leaving an eerie stillness in the massive chamber. Calwyn and Vera moved methodically, dragging the fallen guards' bodies to the center of the camp. The process was grim, their boots scuffing against the stone floor as they worked in silence. Once the bodies were gathered, Vera crouched by the first pair from the weapon rack. She tugged a coin pouch free and held it up to Calwyn. "Eight silver, three copper. Barely enough to buy water." Calwyn, inspecting the blade of an iron longsword, smirked. "Not all treasure's in coin, Vera." He handed the sword to her. "Serviceable. Could be useful." She tossed it aside. "Not for me." Her eyes narrowed as she rifled through the guards' belongings, pulling out a tattered notebook. "Notes, maybe supply schedules. Might be worth keeping." At the door guards, Calwyn crouched to inspect a spear. The steel-tipped weapon was sharp and well-maintained. "Now, this has potential," he said, standing and giving it a few test thrusts. "Fits the room's décor too." Vera glanced over, her golden eyes narrowing as she spotted the weapon in his hand. "Better than the one I've been using." Without a word, Calwyn handed it to her. She weighed it in her hands, testing the balance before nodding in approval. "Good find." She set aside the iron spear she'd carried, securing the steel-tipped one in its place. After a wil, Vera snorted, holding up a pair of reinforced boots. "Unless you're growing a few sizes, these won't help." They worked their way through the bodies, finding everything from practical items like rope and daggers to curiosities like a bronze medallion. Calwyn pocketed the medallion with a shrug. "Could mean something-or nothing. We'll see." When they reached the lead guard, Vera let out a low whistle. "Now this is craftsmanship." She held up a pristine steel longsword, admiring its weight and balance. Its leather scabbard was worn but well-kept, a testament to the care it had received. Calwyn raised a brow. "Looks like someone had a better armory budget." Vera smirked, sliding the longsword into the scabbard with a satisfying snick. She unbuckled her own short sword, setting it aside without hesitation. "Guess I won't be needing this anymore." She adjusted the new weapon at her side, testing the weight with a small shift of her hips. "Feels like an upgrade." Calwyn looked at here with a serious look. "If it doesn't cut, at least it'll look impressive." Vera shot him a sharp look, her golden eyes glinting with amusement. "I'll make sure it does both." Calwyn chuckled, running his fingers over the steel daggers taken from the dagger-wielding guard. Their craftsmanship was remarkable-lightweight, razor-sharp, and perfectly balanced for swift, precise strikes. He set his short sword and its scabbard aside. He then stripped the guard of his sheaths, securing one dagger on each side. The weapons felt natural at his hips, ready for quick access. Calwyn gave the daggers a quick test, flipping them in his hands before stowing them again. "You know, I might actually miss the short sword-" he began, then added with a grin, "-but these feel like they'll make up for it." Vera shook her head, her lips twitching into a faint smile. "Just don't get cocky. Fancy blades won't save you if you can't keep up." As they turned to the camp itself, the loot became more mundane but no less valuable. Lanterns, cooking supplies, and sacks of food filled the tents and makeshift kitchen. Calwyn hefted a small keg of water. "Clean. That's worth its weight in gold out here." Vera's eyes landed on a sealed crate in the alcove. "Let's see what the big prize is," she said, drawing her hunting knife. She wedged the blade into the lid and pried it open with a grunt. Inside, a gleaming set of arrows lay neatly bundled-steel-tipped and finely crafted. Calwyn's amber eyes lit up. "Now that's treasure," he said, reaching for the bundle. His excitement faded quickly as he glanced at the empty weapon rack nearby. "Still no bow, though. What kind of camp doesn't stock bows?" Vera smirked, holding up the tattered notebook she'd taken from one of the guards. She flipped through the pages, scanning the shorthand scrawls. "Looks like they're on the way," she said, suppressing a laugh. "Scheduled delivery... next week." Calwyn groaned, rubbing his temple. "Figures. Guess I'll just keep dreaming." Vera chuckled, tossing the notebook back onto the crate. "Well, at least you've got arrows to pine over." She gave him a playful shove as she stepped past. "Now let's move before someone comes looking for their missing shipment." They divided the spoils quickly and efficiently, pausing only when they came upon a stack of papers in another crate. Vera scanned them briefly. "Troop movements, objectives... Seems like the humans have big plans for these ruins." Calwyn took the papers, his expression grim. "Let's make sure they don't get far." As they gathered their findings, the chamber's vast silence returned, save for the occasional rustle of fabric or clink of metal. When they were done, the pile of discarded, useless items sat alongside their new haul, a testament to their victory-and the dangers still ahead. "Ready to move?" Calwyn asked, adjusting his pack. Vera slid the steel longsword into its scabbard at her hip. "Always." With one last glance at the cleared camp, they turned toward the far door, stepping into the unknown once more.