[Quiet Man Cometh]

Dara emerged from the ATV somewhat cautiously, taking a look around the place as she does so. She looks as much curious about their surroundings as concerned for what might be hiding among them.

Keeping her small rifle on her shoulder, she trots to catch up to Feenai and Michael, most at ease with the woman than several of the others. Once walking next to the psychic, she asks quietly, "what does he mean by 'he'?" referring to Lev's latest comment.

[Salone]

Lev emerged from the APC, swathed in his ragged cloak. He stumbled for a moment before regaining his footing, summoning his strength to ignore what was happening to his other half.

He watched the three for the time being, unsure if he should follow them or not. He almost contemplated leaving altogether, lest Na'lsa go insane and force him to actually eat someone from their group. On the other hand though, he felt slightly...needed. Deciding to tag along with the group, he caught up to them as Dara had finished saying something indiscernible to him. He jutted in, trying to sound as if he wasn't affected too badly.

"So what are we supposed to find here? Are we on sightseeing adventure or should we start digging graves?"

[Serra Britt]

Feenai looked at the woman trying to remember her name. "Dara...right? Lev is possessed by a demon and has been for a long time, from what I can gather." She turned to Lev. "As for your question, I'm just here to stretch my legs, so it may as well be either as far as I'm concerned." Not to mention getting away from that THING'S oppressive mind. If it could even be called a mind.

[Suzerain of Sheol]

Without a word, Shealtiel struts ahead of them, then, with deliberate movements, points with his cane into the distance.

Stretching out before them among the ruins are towering shapes, scattered in seemingly no organized pattern. Crucifixes. Dozens of them. Of the few nearby, none of the victims show any sign of movement, hanging limp.

Dust swirls around them, making it difficult to see further. The old man waits for them to decide upon a course of action, unsure of what precisely is going on here, though he is beginning to suspect....

[Salone]

Lev looked ahead, eying the dead in front of them. From the distance he couldn't judge the decay on the bodies (if there was any to begin with), so there was no way for him to tell just how long they had been there. Still, it made him nervous. He unshouldered the Mosin-Nagant, bringing it up just in case. It seemed quiet for bodies to just be hanging there to him. He whispered to the group, trying to stay as quiet as possible.

"I say ambush. Get low, get a weapon."

[Funkduder]

"Oi!" Michael called out, trying to grab some attention. He payed little mind to the crosses as he stopped at the entrance to the staircase he was originally headed towards. He planned to enter inside in the same manner anyhow. Activating both his gun and his interdiction badge, he motioned Feenai to follow him, silently, and he moved to crouch by the doorway, but not in it. As soon as someone would be there to cover the other side, he would rush in and take out the man directly behind the wall, which he always expected to be there.

[Espy]

Sensing the tense auras, Dante reluctantly slid off the roof and walked towards Shealtiel and the rest of the group, still bored with the proceedings.

Pfft. These people get nervous way too easily. But still, he tried to focus and seek out any possible signs of life.

[Quiet Man Cometh]

Dara snapped a surprised look in Michael's direction, shocked that the man would decide to shout like that and then take an apparently stealthy approach. Dara had survived as long as she had by being quiet and unobtrusive, and those instincts kicked in as she kept alert for any reacitons to Michael's call, her aura diminishing until is was near undetectable.

[Salone]

Lev watched from his position, several yards back from Michael and the others. In his current state, he decided to take a defensive position. Let the others take point, take whatever might be lurking in front of them. Let the others fall rot consume. Let the others die. Feast on them. Feast!

A surging headache hit Lev full force. He swooned, going limp as his body hit the ground full force. The fall caused him to squeeze the trigger of his rifle, sending a single bullet roaring in to the sky. He laid there for the time being, dazed and overpowered by the headache that felt as if it was destroying his very being.

[Suzerain of Sheol]

From the clouded distance in the deeper part of the ruins, the sound of footsteps crunching through the sand reaches them on the swirling winds. After a moment, a solitary figure appears, silhouetted in the odd shadows cast by the looming pillars and broken monuments. As he draws near, his features become plainer -- an at-ease, almost humble bearing, head slightly bowed, wide robes sliding over a large frame but for the presence of plates of body armor. The man holds something in his hands, but none of then can quite tell what it is at this distance. From his mind, the psychics among them can sense little beyond a sense of serenity -- nothing supernatural, merely a man at peace with himself. He may be actively guarding his thoughts, but what fragments leak through to Feenai are of little importance, casual observations of mundane things, a dull sense of pain from old aches. As the man draws up to them, they can see that his stern face is set in a faint frown, accentuating the wrinkles that web his visage. It can be seen, now, that the object he holds is a book -- a massive tome of flaky pages, its worn cover carved with ancient holy symbols.

He says nothing, merely watching the group from where he has stopped.

[Salone]

Lev picked himself up slowly, trying not to fall over again. He wobbled as he lurched forward, the large man weaving back and forth in his blurry vision.

Consume...

Lev fell to his knees, using his rifle to keep him in a kneeling position to the side of Feenai.

CONSUME!

He looked to the man close by, squinting in an attempt to make his vision clearer.

"Who the devil are you?"

[Serra Britt]

Feenai placed her hand on Lev's shoulder to help him stay steady, knowing full well the dangers of being near him while his demon was hungry. "Yes, I'm curious as well. This seems to be a rather remote place to be."

[Suzerain of Sheol]

The man smiles, the expression somewhere between benign and utterly terrifying. "There's no devil, here," he says in a flat, calm tone. "We make sure of that." He gestures slowly off toward the ranks of crucified bodies.

Looking back, he stares into Lev's eyes and says, "I am Mithaias, and you are welcome in my sanctuary." He still holds the book to his breast, fingers curled over the edge of the cover.

[Espy]

Dante stopped in his tracks. Something was ahead; he couldn't tell what exactly. Instinctively, he flipped the blade on his pocketknife and inched closer, fully aware that there wasn't any place to hide.

If it's some sort of monster, at least it will get Lev first... His thoughts trailed off as he noticed Feenai's proximity.

...Damn.

[Salone]

Lev's eyes wandered towards the freshly crucified bodies. Hunger overtaking him, he lost what reserve he was holding on to as he stumbled towards them. As he drew near, his aura fluctuated as Na'lsa's cravings finally overwhelmed Lev. He cackled, speaking to no one in his voice of smooth oil and sandpaper.

"Flesh to feast upon and consume! Flesh so dear!"

[Suzerain of Sheol]

As Lev draws near, something becomes apparent, though so great is his hunger that he scarcely notices -- the bodies on the crosses, rotted, crow-picked, flesh hanging in tatters, writhe in agony, draw shuddering, struggling breaths.

Meanwhile, Mithaias, with his sinister, beatific smile, beckons them to follow, setting off after Lev with slow, purposed steps.

Shealtiel looks to the others, a feeling of dread growing from vague to distinct within him. "Those bodies..." he says, mouth creasing in a grimace, "are possessed by Dybbuk. They can't help reincarnating. He's torturing them." Without waiting to see their reactions, he sets off after the robed figure, his sorcery ready to be released at an instant's notice. Something is horribly wrong here...