Both bone walkers had been reduced to piles that summed of their previously concerted parts, with the addition of further fractured skulls and other damage.

"Haha, thrilling, absolutely thrilling," Ben panted, "Hey, Owen, you alright back there?"
The other previous leader of the party leaned back against the stone wall. This encounter had not been as thrilling for him. Owen's legs still weren't sure that they could hold him up, and his stomach was struck up within a pit deep inside, not mentioning the burning lines so close to that area. For all that, however, Owen nodded that he was ready to continue, "I'm okay now, I should be fine. S'long as I don't have to do that again."

Galen, bathed in faintly pulsing silver light came to inspect his wound. The over large white t-shirt Owen wore was maroon-soaked around the shreds of the garment. Owen's left arm also was marked with blood, in his attempt to hold back the flow to as great an extent as possible.

Apparantly satisfied with his inspection, Galen turned, "You were hit too, weren't you Ben? Can I see?"

Owen descended upon his spellbook as he saw Ben considering a large stone door that blocked progress beyond the room. He kept one arm pressed to his gut, the other preoccupied with his spellbook.

Both Ian and Galen swooped upon one of the former hostiles and dismantled his legs. Owen's hands were for the time, full however, so he mustered a half-hearted kick that displaced a now lightless skull. However they existed, we fixed that, he thought.

The room they were in, for all it's invisible height, was wider than it was far across. The wall to the left and right remained shadowed, though visible. It contained a pair of braziers on either side of the marked path running down the center of the room, one of which was knocked over and apparantly broken. It wide as the hall they came from that extended straight up to the door and could be seen extending down another hall, thanks to Ben's quick efforts.

Ian thought to look around the room some more, but their fearless leader, though proceeding with a measure more of caution, left little time to dawdle while things dangerous and malicious roamed. The only way was onward, as all backward was the deepest known part of the dungeon had already been delved.

To the right in the short hall ahead, lay an alcove. The end of the hall turns left. Ben continues forth bravely and turns briefly to inspect the alcove. A rotting wooden door is all that greets him in the dark depression. There appears to have once been words scratched into the wood, but they are illegible now. The knob looks incredibly rusted, but that serves not to be a major problem, as the door isn't completely closed.

Ben reaches for the knob, pausing for a second as the others gather behind him. He holds up his only weapon- the torch, and pulls the door crankily open. He is rewarded for his curiosity with the hollow pin-point stares of two more fleshless bodies that have been dragged into slavery by dark magic.

Beyond the two heads in the way, Galen sees further adversaries. This time, he wouldn't let people get in the way. Steeling himself, Galen proceeds to drop his book, then rush forward. Running past Ian and Ben, Galen goes into the room, stepping to the left so as to give Ben a free way.

Galen's aura flickers like a flame caught in a gentle breeze, and bits of the aura begin to fall and flow around him. These are shaped like flower petals, cherry blossom petals to be exact. Galen holds forth his vacant hand, and the petals land within its cupped shape. His aura has now vanished, now all its remaining essence held in his hand. Raising it to his lips, Galen blows gently, sending the petals streaming forward towards the closest skeleton as though they were caught in a hurricane wind.

Ben bolts in, following Galen in tow, taking up the spot next to him. He thought about what he could do, and seeing as their strength was attacking through scratches and clawing he decided that he would take that away from them.

With his torch he pulled back and swung at the one in front of him, aiming to destroy one of its hands with the torch. He put as much power into as he could, so that he would be sure that it destroyed the skeletal hand in one swing, or at least make it fall off.

Ian seeing the hollow eyes of the skeleton, then seeing Ben and Galen hushing in, follows up to the side of the skeleton leaving room for Ben to have fun, after, Ian joins the commotion with his new found friend, the femur.

The adrenaline from the first encounter with the skeletons still hadn't worn off. Jeremy was reluctant to engage them in combat. Although he couldn't admit it to himself, he was almost paralyzed in fear. He had never had a real fight in his life, and now his life was going to be on the line. Jeremy shook his head back and forth trying to get rid of all the thoughts that held him back. He wasn't going to be the only one to cower before them. Running towards the skeleton Jeremy slides along the ground and attempts to kick the skeleton's foot from under it.

Raymond decided that he would see where this path led in its glory days of more frequent use. The road he took was not lengthy, and he could see that it took him to what appeared to be a large, ruined building of stone. The walls stood barely up to his navel at their most impressive height, and grass and other plantlife decayed in abundance. There were what may have been hedging dying around the ruins, and short, skeletal trees did little to liven the atmosphere.

The path took him a little farther, along side the crumbled stone walls, until it joined with another path that apparantly led to his right, immediately the once doorway of the structure; and left, away from the ruins to, as he could just make out, a forest of larger dead trees.

More interesting, however, was the wooden sign that protruded from the middle of the path, only feet before the stone step of the gateway. Despite however much wear and tear it may have suffered, it was legible yet. Upon the wood was gouged a warning.

Do not approach ruins. Those with enervations may pass to free their souls.

From all that Ray could tell, as he looked over the ruins and the path he had recently taken, the stone spire that he had awoken against lay somewhere behind the ruins. Meaning the path that now lay to his back, was the easiest way to escape so far.

(Note for you, that the sign is by no means a desperate attempt to railroad you. It was originally there, whether you understand it or not, pay attention or not)

Ben pulled the rotting door open with a crack from the door's frame, and a furious protest from the hinges. The source of the crack remained unknown, as the door was not visibly broken, yet. The next room looked like it had been an architectural mistake, it held no tellable purpose other than to gather the muddy water that seeped through dissolved cracks in the mortar.

The two skeletons hung slack-jawed at the far end of the room, toward the right corner where the water deepened to about half a foot. They shot up at attention at Ben's entrance and found in their orders to attack any living being that they saw. Galen was more alert however, and from the back of the group gathered at the door, in a position where he could just see straight into the room, he plowed in.

Galen quickly moved in, cutting past both Ian and Ben to get into the room. His aim was not to attack, however, at least not with the bone in his hand. He stepped over to the left of the door and began to gather the last of the energy surrounding his form. Whether from learning his lesson previously, or merely seeing an opportunity, Galen found himself in a perfect position to fire without the problem of hitting the wrong target. With a quick blow, the luminous silver aura was gone entirely, thrusted into a final strike and placing Galen momentarily in shadows.

The light shot across the room at the one skeleton on the right. As it pierced into the boney cage of the skeleton's chest, a black force was lambasted out of the body that quickly disappated into the air. When the dazzling magical effects simmered away, the skeleton, without muscles or joints or even now magic, fell to pieces.

From without, though Jeremy could not see the skeletons, what he could see was enough to make it blatantly obvious. The flare of silver light from within the room was more than enough of a punctuation mark for that. He beat down his fear of fighting things that though could easily exist, should not have to be fought against to save one's life. He too brushed past Ben, who was about to leap into action. Jeremy paid no mind to the collapsing corpse of the one monster, but went after the other. He dodged around to its side from where he hoped he would have a better chance with his plan. He closed in and dropped into the water, the skeleton left unable to react to this danger after not moving from the same spot in over a decade. Jeremy lashed out with his foot and kicked a leg back out from under the skeleton, connecting with a shot of pain, one tibia to another. The undead servant fell forward, into the water, sending up more spray than Jeremy had done so.

Ian, after having had Galen and Jeremy run past him, found himself adrenaline boosted. He also pushed past the leader of the group, maybe it was pain from the wound on his arm that distracted Ben? Not likely. Ian ran through the water and brought his bone above his head with two hands, to hammer it into the skeleton's spine, who was jerked as it tried to get up from the floor.

Finally, with no one else eager to shove past Ben, he rushed in, irritated that he had not been in the middle of the fight from the start. He ran over around the skeleton from the right saw it raising a claw-like hand out of the water toward Jeremy. Acting quickly he swung at the fist supporting the skeleton, crushing it with a crunch and a crack, disabling one of the rotting deathly claws. The skeleton slipped in the water, causing it have to regain posture to attack. Ben's tactic, however, had another, unforseen effect, and that was of dousing his torch in the splash.

The necromantic energy connecting and animating the bones apparantly decided that the crushed finger bones were of no use any further and let them lay in the water, returned to lifelessness. The crawling bones then supported themselves on the wrist of the crushed hand and finally allowed the right hand to locate its target. The browny yellow claws knifed into Jeremy's side as he tried to get away after a successful trip (-4HP [5/9]).

The only one left outside, Owen, decided that he might be of some use outside of combat. He picked up Galen's spellbook together in his one hand, then moved over to gather the torch that Jeremy had dropped in his drive to ignore his own fear. After a moment he decided that carrying both spellbooks and the torch was impossible while still staunching the bleeding in his abdomen, so he left the torch and watched the battle.

(Good job to Galen for completely obliterating the second skeleton. The first one, though tripped, is still in the possession of a fighting spirit, so get to it. Jeremy, you're lucky that I remembered last minute that flat-footed opponents don't get to AoO or you would be sitting at exatly 0 HP)

One was down, the other too soon to fall. Satisfied, Galen decides to sit this battle out, but then he notices that Jeremy is devoid of the torch he had received earlier, and Ben's had been quenched. Jeremy must've dropped his Galen notes and reasons, We'll need more than one torch for sure.
Galen exits the little room, notes the fallen and quickly burning out torch, and picks it up.

Ian rases his bone once again in atempt to releve this body of the black magices that holds it together then brings it down atempting to hit it's ribcage.

Ben raises his torch, not seeming to care that it had gone out. He continued by swinging down at the skeletons skull.

I follow the sign's first instructions and choose not to head into the ruins. I am at a lose for options though. I do not wish to enter the woods as they seem sinister all in their own, but I also do not wish to go back to that statue with the specters. I fall on my knees in despair, close my eyes, and pray to God that something good may occur...

Jeremy doesn't move the torch into his left hand because he doesn't have it anymore and punches the skeleton with his good hand. (provided its still in one alive)

The team quickly tackled and defeated the two skeletal sentinals in the room. After their first battle, the friends were shaken but still peaked with adrenaline, and thrown so soon into the heat of combat, they were alert.

After Galen quickly felled one of their foes with a blast of luminescent energy, the rest of the team ganged up on the second to bring it on its hands and knees.

Galen saw no need to further expend his somewhat limited magical energies on a pile of bones that barely resisted redeath, so he exited the room to pick up Jeremy's discarded torch. Meanwhile, the recent owner of the light source was driving his good arm with all his force into the skeleton on the ground. The skeleton's good claw moved to gain purchase on Jeremy's body, though the blond boy was not so foolish. For his effor, however, his foot slid in the water as he threw himself into the attack, missing in favour of his footing.

Ian was quick to fill in where Jeremy missed, he beat the skeleton with his 100% femur club. The ancient bone suit couldn't take much more, the artificial life force nearly driven out. Finally, a quick, mighty glancing swing delivered to the skull by Ben's torch dropped the skeleton into the shallow water, unmoving.

Another skirmish successful, even among the pains suffered. Hearts pounding and adrenaline coursing, they were safe again. For how long until another foe interjected they might go was unknown, though when that battle came, they were more prepared for it than ever. Even in their growing blood shed, pain, and fatigue, they were still in fighting condition.

The figure upon the path fell to his knees, looking for answers. The message left for any who may stumble upon this site was warning enough for him not to try to go forward, but as it was, the foreboding dead wood behind offered no invitation. His mind sought passage out of the desecrated land that he awoke trapped in.

This strange world, was it a dream? But had he not been dreaming before he entered? If so, then couldn't that mean even moreso that this was obviously a product of his subconsciousness? It certainly did not have the feel of the previous dreams, they were pleasant, and not nearly so lucid. Pleasant, at least, up to that strange feeling, but the more he looked into that memory, the harder it became to think about. Finally he turned away from that, remembering the other dreams.

He wondered why, if he was indeed awake, where his house had gone. He should have waken up in his bed in his basement room. Where was all that? What time was it now? He sat on his knees in resignation, his hands dropping to the earth beneath him. Earth, one of the four elements of old, before this periodic table nonesense. It was, by the original defining attributes, cold and dry. Strong, reserved, tough, resilient, unyielding, solid. After so many adjectives rolled through his mind he realized that it was wandering. Even still, he felt the enduring ability of earth reflected in himself as he considered it. The still air, the dew beneath his fingers, the soil, the sun that slowly began to cast its warmth despite the chill aura of death that hung about this land. All were examples of the four elements from tradition. He could sense them, their presense, just beyond himself, yet when he looked to any one of them, he felt attributes of it reflected within himself. What was this feeling?

WAIT! The dreams, his bed, the four elements, were these not memories? If that was so, were they coming back to him? The dew! The path should not have dew on it, that was the grass where he woke up!

He realized that his upper body had fallen the moment his head struck a wall of stone, at the same time he snapped up, half in startled pain, half in sudden realization. Before him was the obelisk again. Had he moved? Had it moved? What happened? Why was his memory back? The idea that the whole distance that he had run from the obelisk was suddenly rendered nil distressed him. He spun in reflex, remembering suddenly the apparitions that he left hanging in the air. The remained, the horrible tattered, eyed cloak, the chained, translucent man and woman, and a fourth, a barely shaped form that was every changing, that uttered a low, barely audible babble.

Terror seized him again, and he stumbled to his feet barely before he took off again, this time directly toward the ruined structure. Unlike last time he fled, where he ran for ages, it took no time to sprint to the eroding stonework. He veered around it, keeping up a terrified run until moments later found himself again at the spot where he fell to his knees, or at least where he thought he did.

He dropped again, to the ground, breathless. What if he opened his eyes again and was transported back to the obelisk? He forced his lids open and was relieved to find that this was not so. Again he reached the stalemate between forest and ruins, but this time the temple and specifically that which lay behind it, seemed to increase in foreboding nature.

(Notes: You are psionically focused now, attuned to earth. You are aware of this portion of your mental faculties, and further reflection will entail awareness of your psionic capabilities, though I imagine reflection is not among your priorities yet. Memory returned, you have read your situation, do with it what you will. I hope it didn't seem too much like railroading, but I imagined you would run away again at the introduction of new spirits (looking to the past to predict the future) You prayed for something good, and regardless whether you accept it in character or not yet, this was something good.)

Though the temple seems all the more intimidating, I decide that my best bet is to enter the ruins. I hope that inside I may seek shelter from the ghostly figures and perhaps find someone who can direct me to a safe haven.