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"Guess it's just me doing this, then.." He sighed.
He was surprised by the sudden halt of the elevator, and recoiled much more than Fuast.

When they stepped out, they seemed to be in a run-down metal bunker.
Pipes lined the ceiling, and there wasn't a soul in sight.
On the far end of the rectangular room was a door, cracked open.

"Is this the right stop?" Vinan asked.
"Seems kinda.. Abandoned."

'Makes sense,' Jahev replied. 'Not many people would want to enter a city caring more about military might than it's own people.'
'Still, stay on your toes. No people doesn't necessarily mean no eyes... or ears, for that matter.'

The next room had blood smeared across the ground.
Not a large amount, and mostly just in one large stain on the floor.
Upon the sight of it Vinan gagged slightly.
"Was that.. There before?" Upon looking at it a little more he realized.
"Wait.. It's fresh.. It's still sort of.. A puddle."
He walked up and hesitantly dipped two fingers in it.
He looked at his fingertips, now with blood on them.
"Fresh.. Definitely." A small ice-blade formed in his hand.
"Be careful.." He then took a couple steps forwards, where a metal desk connected to the blood puddle.
He glanced over..
"A corpse. Missing an arm, several parts of skin torn off.."
He grew sick, as he spoke.

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A brow raised beneath the tall man's helm, his mouth tightening as he took in the scene.
It didn't strike him as a professional job; more wild than most were capable of.
The corpse wasn't decayed enough to be the work of an Atropal, for which he was deeply thankful.
It took months to clear the stench out when one got anywhere near those.
"Undead could do this.
There's more than zombies creepin' 'round out there.
Most of the really dangerous kind wouldn't leave evidence lying around.
A ghoul or a mohrg might have pulled this one; they're usually smarter than the normal ones."

Lifting the metal table slightly, he began to wrench a leg one way, then another.
Eventually, the support snapped off under Fuast's considerable strength.
That done, he set it down until he had another off.
He hefted his twin cudgels with a grim smile.
These would do until something better came along.

Closing his eyes for a moment, the armored figure concentrated upon his curses.
One of the mages he'd killed had attempted to torment him with the knowledge that the undead were always coming for him.
It had the side-effect of allowing him to sense them, though; it came in handy on occasion.
Opening his eyes, he started in the direction of the stairs, off to the side.
The gate didn't last long against him, and quickly bent around his bulk.
"Let's move on, for now.
Keep an eye out for the shadows.
...Starting to wish we had your unstable friend following us, Jahev.
Don't think we'd have to watch out for more than him behind us."

'So... We're definitely dealing with someone who's a savage killer...' Jahev muttered. 'Perhaps a bomber... but then there'd be explosion marks... So someone with enough strength to rip people apart or who is willing to cut them clean apart.'

"But.. The smarter ones are ones who've lived morally correct.
Why would they kill these..?" When Fuast stepped on the elevator he stopped, and followed.
It immediately rose up, and afterwards they found themselves in another building.
This one was much nicer.
In fact it almost looked like a ballroom.
A man, who was sitting at a desk, turned around.
He had brown hair, blue eyes, and was wearing a suit.
"Hello. New citizens?" He asked with a smile.
"Sorry about how ugly it is down there.
Can't get the Council to donate anything to fix it up."