The wolf suddenly came to a halt, as spirits suddenly appeared surrounding him, protecting him, even attempting to communicating with this monstrosity of an ethereal creature. At first it didn't seem affected by this commotion, in fact, it steadily approached, until it was within striking distance, before it stopped moving. Relieved to see, Adrian could finally take a deep breathe hoping it would listen, yet he still had no idea whether his chanting for Whitefang had been the reason for the spirits appearing.
"Ancestor or no. No one shall leave this place with that sword in their hand upon entering, so if you wanna protect this being... So be it, you shall be erased from existence along with this mortal, now DIE." A quick impaling strike, took one of the spirits by surprise, the second strike slashed in a diagonal fashion, attempting to strike several at once, was barely intervened out of chance, countering it with sword against sword.
"Damn it." The chameleon shouted, seeing no other solution then to kill this guardian even if it's the last thing they'll do.
Adrian decided to once again shout out the name three times, figuring there has to be more to it. The battle unfolded in front of him, as they all tried an offensive launch of stabs, slashes, sideways, diagonal ways, thrusting forwards, hammering slash, (upward swing downwards.) Yet the ethereal was quite the adequate swordsman, almost out of true legend, being able to hold off the spirits one by one. Their numbers were quickly dwindling, until but a few remained. A successful maneuver combined with a slice of his sword in an 180 degree arch, avoiding the ethereal own quick jab, just barely.
It connected and the guardian was dispersed off, just like that. Yet it wasn't without a final dying breath of toxic waste. The already enclosed room was filled with green smoke, poisonous uncertain lethalness toward the remaining spirits, however potentially lethal against mortal beings.
In fact, the wolf already struggled breathing, coughing abruptly, even filling the floor beneath him with blood as he was onto his knees, clearly not being able to coop with the air that surrounded him. The entrance however to the tomb was slowly moving, allowing for a chance to escape, yet his strength was quickly vaning, thinking this might be it.
The spirits tried desperately keeping him alofe, yet as they cannot touch a mortal being, their as helpless like the wolf.
One last effort, the wolf attempting chanting the name, yet this time it was rather incoherent, and didn't make out much in sense of words.
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Outside the fight continued, Vilja was overjoyed by the challenge at first, yet quickly realized even she wasn't invulnerable. As one managed to cut the back of her ankle. She quickly swept aside, striking valiantly with both swords in quick succession after another, while being able to avert another skeleton stomful approach from behind, by quickly using her tail sweeping maneuver, knocking it off balance, just enough time to turn around, cutting its head off, as trying to slide through it's bones would most likely not do anyone good, considering there's literally gaps of nothing in between those knuckle bones.
The smoke clearly made it difficult to see, which was the most difficult part, fighting with a slight disadvantage, while the undead seemed less hindered by it, as they kept on charging up from their forgotten graves, or perhaps they had never been buried. Perhaps these are warriors who's been abandoned on the field to rotten, before being decomposed into these living bones. With two of them dealt with, another one appeared on her left, this time she barely had a chance to avert it, almost stumbling backwards falling onto the ground, while the skeleton followed her unintentional movement. Her sword raised just in time as the bones tried to use it's hack in an downward fashion.
Having to use strength heaving the bones aside ontop of her, while it struggled to remain were it was. Not only that, another one appeared out from the thick smoke. For a moment she was defenseless. Yet with renewed effort she finally managed to get the skeleton off of her, quickly rolling away from the second one attempting to crack her skull. It followed with another strike, while she kept on rolling, until she had enough momentum getting back on her feet. She had lost one of her swords, having to rely on just one handed. They both landed hits against one another, using steel, averting each hit... She was surprised how proficient this one living bone were in battle, not only that, as the other one had recuperated and was on it's way back, making her life even more a living hell.
She'd much prefer having both her weapons in hand in this kind of situation, as clearly showing a slight disadvantage.
Seth appreciated Simon diving in, helping him out in the nick of time, yet he did not see Vilja anywhere, though her voice, well rather grunting. as if she was fighting for her life.
Yet as soon as another rabble of skeletons emerged from the smoke, they all crumbled into simple bone piles, as if the curse had seemingly been lifted.
A powerful current seeped pass both the feline and canine, shortly after realizing the curse hadn't been lifted... No, in fact, Seth recognised suddenly what appeared in front of them...
"You..! Are you Whitefang?" Clearly guessing, but the wolf had pointed out something he needed to do with the name on his sword.
The grey dragon ignored the feline's comment, concentrating on the bones beneath him, crushing them with it's brute strength. Some of them emerged from behind Seth and Simon ready to strike one each.
Seth barely averted, as if almost distracted by the seemingly uncaring dragon before coming to their aid.
The skeleton for a short instance loss of balance, the leopard used it to his advantage, thrubbing it's back sending it tumbling forwards.
A loud violent burst of cracked crystals was sent in all directions, as the dragon used all it's might, attempting to penetrate the crystallised tomb. The poisonous gas managed to seep through the gap which was created. Whitefang clearly didn't approve of said poison, as it tried to penetrate into the dragon nostrils and mouth, it tried to forcefully wiggle back and forth with its head, clearly struggling, yet not giving in, as he continued to pound with its front feet.
Not only that, but he had to defend from skeletons approaching from behind, using its tail, sweeping them off balance before they could have a chance to climb onto its back.
At last, the last strike which was necessary was shattered into pieces, and the poisonous gas lifted up in the air, dispersing into nothing, and shortly after the living bones crumbled all over the place.
"Damn it... Don't tell me I'm too late." As he watched the black unconscious body lying in the corner. The spirits which fought for the wolf's life where all gone, probably disappearing with the shattering of the tomb.
The smoke lifted and everyone could see clearly all around them. Vilja hadn't heard Simon implying they should retreat, but her attention was now toward the grey, seemingly furred dragon, at least what she could make out off from looking at it's lines protruding from it's back. For a moment she thought it would attack the wolf lying there on the ground, with a pile of blood next to his muzzle.
"Adrian..." Seth rushed in, knowing the dragon wasn't going to prevent him from approaching the unconscious wolf. Yet it was almost more intimidating now then it was before. Almost unrecognizable from previous encounter. Yet he could swore it was the same one.
He quickly tried to make contact with the black canine, lifting his head. Yet it was daringly say unresponsive.
"No no no... Wake up you fool, your wish has come true."
Whitefang approached with the nose, carefully nudging the wolf in the leopard's fold. It quickly retreated however, almost taking the feline by surprise.
"What is it dragon?" He tried to lean in with his ear toward the wolf mouth, checking for even the slightest of pulse. There was none..
"Come on Adrian, don't give up on us now." Almost suspecting the worst now, but what's the point then, all this journey for what. Nothing.
"You must have something to help him.. You must." Whitefang clearly didn't ignore the leopard's plea this time, and simply shook its head dismissively.
"I've done all I can warrior." As it had not known this wolf, only his great-great old father, Valiant, as they had a very strong bond, one which ultimately was broken so many, many years ago.
Seth lifted the wolf's body in both hands, even if it hurt like hell at the back of his shoulder. He looked to Vilja.
"Do you know of any remedy or miracle boost that might save his life back at your base?" He was desperate, even if he hadn't known the wolf as much, but he felt like the connection was strong, and such felt an unbelievable sadness running through him, almost enough to flick a tear.
"I don't think so, but the best way is to seek out or chief, if there is one who could answer whether there's a chance to save him, then we have to go there now." Looking casually at the dragon, expecting him to at least carrying the wolf, and perhaps one more for the quickest route back.
The light grey dragon didn't hesitate for one second, lowering his back.
"What you waiting for, get on board." At least he wouldn't have to travel by mouth method, but as soon the wolf was positioned, the great draconian ushered the female draconian being the one, getting on its back, as clearly she's the one with the contacts.
Both Simon and Seth would have to make it down there by foot.
