’Damn the gods. Damn them.’
The dwarf approaches the giant corpse before him, and places his hand on it. he closes his eyes for a second, and suddenly his hand pushes through the hide. The dragon begins to fade, turning to translucent black smoke. This condenses into a number of denser black spheres, which begin to drift upwards as the surroundings shift. Space seems to wrap around itself, before squeezing together. The walls draw closer, and the ground buckles up. Archways grow from the boundaries, and gradually you come to recognise the room you were in previously. The corpse of Ryxa is clearly visible now, on the tier above you, and Kyle moves to her, and lifts her onto his back.
‘So death has claimed her. She was a strong one, I could feel it. And that blade - it must be buried with her. Some weapons are meant for only one wielder. But…. there is one hope, first.’
He moves up the ramp, and takes the body from Kyle, gently. The crystalline sheath hangs between his outstretched arms, and he walks slowly, although not from the weight. His warhammer lies forgotten on the floor where he appeared. He passes beneath one of the archways, and following him through, you emerge into a large chamber. Krom's leg causes him to lag a moment, but not severely. In the centre is an altar, silver liquid in a depression in it’s centre. Here he places the body, and the fluid rises to wrap around it, in some sort of shimmering cocoon.
‘Now we wait. It is up to her if she will return.’