World Tree MUSH

  The tiny village of Nayru's Rest is halfway up the mountains to Zora's Domain, a small farming village. Under normal circumstances most maps wouldn't even bother marking its location. People here trade their pottery in exchange for fish. Now, there's more to worry about. The Zora are too busy in dealing with their own problems to afford too many guardsmen to send to Nayru's Rest.

  Fortunately, this is the kind of thing passing travellers are great for.

  A brace of farmers have set up shop at the front of the village, where roughshod wooden gates lead to the main commons. It's an intentional bottleneck, and the burly farmers set up here with their sharp tools might provide some respite from the...

  Yeah, those sure are undead shambling towards the village. Not just human, either. There are Hylians, monsters, and even a few Zora in the mix. None of them are particularly fast, nor have they any of their mental faculties left to them, but they're strong as sin and unyielding as a glacier.

  Fortunately, passing travellers are great for this kind of thing. And there's one perched in the crook of a high tree bough, one leg hooked around the pine boughs. A black hooded robe covers most of the features, but snatches of the lower half of the face suggest a young woman. So does the voice, echoing down to call out orders to position 'troops' where they'll do the most good.

  She's got a very nice-looking bow, too, of royal quality, and an arrow nocked to the string and waiting. The undead aren't quite at the gate, yet, but they're advancing.

  "Stand ready!" the young woman calls from the tree. "Stand firm! The goddesses are watching over you -- wait until they've closed into range; do not rush them!"

It's one part sightseeing and one part 'scouting out for a job' that sends Chrollo Lucilfer out into this particular vine. With no credible rumors about his Troupe members, all he can do is search out replacements and keep the spirit of the Spider alive. Thus here he's stopped in Nayru's Rest just before he plans on making his way towards Zora's Domain. 

He has no doubt that a place of such important would have something worthwhile to steal. Or better yet, someone worthwhile to steal from. 

Somewhere along his meandering journey, Chrollo has outfitted himself with some basics not unlike that of the locals: boots, breaches, and a shortrobe whose hems and hood are covered in the feathers of some white bird or another. There's a bandanna across his forehead, covering his tattoo. Taking up the persona of a simple traveler, his clothes aren't too cheap but aren't too expensive, in an attempt to keep anyone from remembering too much about him. Anonymity is his friend. He's been polite to the villagefolk, if a bit distant. 

Curious though. In his single night here thus far, he's asked all about the village, the surrounding countryside, and tried to subtlety dig up information about Zora's Domain. 

Oh yeah and there's the whole undead problem. To say Chrollo is fascinated by what Ability might cause this shambling zombie horde is an understatement. What kind of person would manifest such a thing? 

And so the curious traveler has basically offered himself up on scouting duty. Between his silent feet, Nen, and just general skill at stealth? 

He keeps a pair of binoculars glued to his face, peeking out of cover from one of the nearer buildings with a second story to get a good vantage point. 

It isn't long before he's shifted to just below the robed woman offering orders. 

"No sign of whoever is causing all of this. I wonder if their powers has a wide range. Those who rely on vast amounts of minions to fight usually are going to prioritize themselves." 

This robed young woman is certainly curious in and of herself. Just why is she so self assured? Hmm!

  The young woman in the tree has taken note of the other well-dressed traveller, both from direct observation and in quiet conversation with the locals. None of them can tell her very much about him; certainly nothing informative enough to suggest why he might be here, heading into danger. Not too many of the locals travel any more. Hyrule is not safe.

  Balanced against the trunk and with a leg wrapped around the bough, the young woman leans over, pointing down at Chrollo's location with her bow. "You there. Offworlder." Yep she figures that much, if only because he has no idea of the overall Hyrulean situation. "Have you any skill in battle? I will offer fair recompense, but it will not be without danger."

  The bow flicks up to point at the advancing hordes. They're not yet close enough to shoot, but they're gaining. Village men are gripping pitchforks, shovels, scythes, and whatever tools they could scrounge up to brandish at the unliving. As the ranks close, they can be heard ringing against what piecemeal weapons the undead have, groans and grunts of the living troops in contrast to the eerie silence of the unliving -- no groaning, no breath, nothing at all.

  "Your choice, offworlder?" She raises her bow, drawing the arrow back to her ear and letting fly. Aside from how ornate the bow is, its quiver and arrows are plain; so are her gloves, although the robe seems well-made in spite of its plainness. Its hems are edged in silvery thread, clearly costly, however subtle it may be.

  "They will be beyond the front lines, soon," she calls, frowning to the horde as one of the unliving pitches backward, an arrow quivering from an eye socket. So... she's a pretty decent shot, too. "If you wish to flee, now is the time."

The man actually chuckles, though it's a grim sort of humor attached to it. "Miss, what would be the point of fleeing?" He looks back to the zombie horde, takes in their silence and just how full of unlife they are. 

"I have no desire to be trapped in mountains with opponents like these. Nothing in their eyes. They'll be difficult to deal with. I accept your proposal." 

And then, rather than wade into the fray like some kind of professional soldier, the young man's body glows lightly with a thin layer of energy. Leaping to a second story building, he runs along its side, before angling himself in an agile twist of his body, he aims his downward pitch right towards a Zora-zombie menacing one of the scythe-wielding farmers. His heel falls harder than a man of his build should be able to, aimed with brutal pinpoint precision at the back of the dead thing's neck. 

Removing the head /should/ stop a 'puppet' like this. 

"We should keep our eyes open. You know the land better. Are we certain this isn't a diversion?" He calls lightly over to the 'lead' of these peasant militia with her rich bow and skilled shots. A decisive woman of means. 

Just the kind of target he enjoys taking from. Chrollo doesn't stick around to enjoy his handiwork amongst the undead. He fades nimbly back behind the farmers, working to find a place to strike from a place of advantage.

  "More than you might think," the young woman replies, leaning over the bough to call to the traveller. "These creatures move slowly. They are powerful, and unyielding, but they cannot move quickly. The advantage is in flight, although there comes a point where one can only run so far."

  The young woman's jaw sets as the young man cloaks himself in energy, although little else of her reaction can be seen. Now that's an interesting trick. Even more so, as he leaps to the second storey of a building with no apparent effort.

  Removing heads does work. So does disabling them in a way that might otherwise bring death to the body: Destroying the head, the heart, the brain. Anything else seems to be mere inconvenience.

  The young woman doesn't answer the question right away. She has another shot lined up. Quick as thought an arrow hisses past Chrollo and buries itself a quarter of the way down its shaft in the torso of a dead man, precisely where his heart should have been. The man crumples, as she leans over her branch, inching outward. Looks like she's wearing a sword, too, although it's fairly thin. A rapier, maybe. The scabbard is visible under the hem with the way she's sitting. Her clothing under the robe looks pretty plain. Traveller's fare.

  "No. That is to say, I do not know, but it is safe to assume it is." She pulls another arrow from the quiver over her shoulder in a single thoughtless motion. "There are plenty of places to hide in these hills, but whoever is causing this cannot raise corpses indefinitely. Necromancy... a disgusting affront to the goddesses," she adds, voice low and venomous. "These were /people/, once." /Her/ people, and while she doesn't say it, there is guilt behind her words.

  "For now, it is all we can do to stem the tide. I will be free to investigate afterward." Her bow raises again, attention split between the unliving, the living, and Chrollo. It wouldn't do to accidentally put an arrow in one of her allies, would it?

  There comes a rumbling from just out of sight, deep and basso, shivering pebbles underfoot and tangible through the body.

  Well, that probably can't be good.

  "Something big is coming." The young woman's voice drops. "Be on your guard, offworlder," she calls.

  Trees rustle, and with a splintering of branches, something huge and dark bursts through the pines on the periphery of the clearing. It roars, baring dead gums and teeth. Once upon a time it was probably a bear, in life, but there are parts of it that don't really make much sense. It has a tail, for instance, which ends in a bony spiked club. There are crude chunks of armour grafted to its hide, which is patchy and missing parts of its pelt.

  It's huge and the villagers are most sensibly dropping back before the thing gets close enough to maul them.

  The young woman inches forward on her branch to call down to the residents. "Fall back!" she cries, gesturing wildly with her bow back to the village gates. "We will take care of this!"

  Oooh, that thing doesn't look good.

  It smells about as bad as it looks, too.

Chrollo also has his attention split, and partially for similar reasons. He doesn't want to get /hit/ by his new employer either. Arrows are painful, and really he'd rather not eat into his earnings by needing a visit to a hospital. Medical attention is annoying to steal without at least one fellow thief on the job. 

Could this woman be some sort of traveling noblewoman? The land certainly seemed afflicted by something and that shock of guilt in her voice lets the seed build in his head. 'Goddesses'. 'Necromancy' that raises the dead to make effective footsoldiers. 

He wisely doesn't test the cloaked woman by pointing out how one can always make more corpses. 

"You're right. This many puppets takes work, and no doubt there's many steps the 'necromancer' has to go through. If they're attacking a small village like this, then we simply stop their attack and follow to the source." 

Which may have a bit of an issue, as a very large and very nausea-inducing beast appears with a roar. Tail, teeth, claws, and armor. In between going from pale to pale-green, Chrollo inwardly sigh as his convenient meat wall begins to fall back. Sensible of them at least. 

He has no 'tool's to deal with an odd situation like this offhand. While Stop the World is ever-useful, he could use something a bit more...direct. 

"Cover me." She's no Spider, but he needs an ally. So Chrollo extends the trust of an ally for now. He rushes towards the beast, only to turn on his heels and test the thing's agility. Leaping in, pausing, and leaping out. Getting a feel for it's range and speed of movements. He waits... 

And then begins to pepper the grand undead beast with...are those writing implements? Quills for the most part, and the occasional bic pen coated with nen is aiming for vitals...such as they are. 

He doesn't think this thing will go down as easily as the lesser zombies.

>> GAME >> Zelda spends an Edge for: Divine Sorcery: Arrow of Light

  "Such things are not trivial." The young woman doesn't quite shout to be heard over the ugly beastie below, and while it looks like she's slithering down for a retreat, she's actually just angling for a clearer shot. She inches out along a bough, somehow managing not to get tangled up in that black robe. "Why they would menace a place like this, so far off the well-worn trail, I do not know. A test, perhaps."

  Cover me, he says, and no sooner are the words spoken than three arrows fly in alarmingly rapid succession. Each buries itself into the hulking creature, but they must have no more effect than the sting of an insect for all the attention it pays. Two more join its fellows, and one of them splits the shaft of a landed shot, purely by chance.

  That gets its attention. The beast pivots to try and follow Chrollo, bellowing and swiping with a massive clawed paw, but it's too slow to land a hit on the quick-footed young man. It's slow but it's powerful, and a blow from one of those paws would be lethal to normal folk.

  But the defenders of Nayru's Rest aren't normal.

  Up in the tree, the young woman blinks, owlishly.

  Are those... are those quills?

  It's not enough, no. The beast forges on through, and the arrows are having about as much effect. Its pelt may be patchy and rotted, but it does still protect. A bit too well, combined with those chunks of misshapen armour.

  There comes from the tree above a soft curse.

  "Blood and damnation."

  That's not very aristocratic, but she was hoping not to have to do this, especially in front of an outsider.

  A quiet murmuring suggests the working of magic, and indeed, the very air seems to pulse and thrum. "Spirits of Light, grant me the power to protect. O Grace of the Goddesses, guide the hands of Your servant."

  Whatever she's doing, it's bright. It's almost blinding. When it finally clears, she's holding an arrow -- but this one isn't made of wood. This one is made of scathing, scintillating light, and it never seems to hold quite the same shape for very long; flickering and snapping at its edges like electricity, or the sun. Looking at it too much is also painful like the sun.

  As though it were the most normal thing in the world, she nocks the arrow to the string and draws it back to her ear, training her shot on the beast's blunt head. One of its eyes is rotted away to an empty socket, but the other is still there, clouded and dead, and it's that gleam in the darkness that she aims for.

  She lets fly.

  It strikes the beast, and where it touches, that shaggy and rotting pelt erupts into clean white flame. Howling and thrashing, the creature backs away from Chrollo, still burning.

  "Again." Her voice is leaden as she seizes another flickering arrow from the air itself, drawing and releasing in the span of a heartbeat. A second stripe of white fire paints its way down the chimeric beast, and this time, it topples.

  It doesn't get back up this time, smoldering.

  For a moment the only sound in the clearing is the quiet crackle of flame, consuming the rotting corpse; it doesn't even leave ash behind. The other thing audible is the harsh sawing of breath from the young woman up in the tree.

Chrollo's gaze turns away from the beast, ducking with that too-fast speed out of the way from a blow that might have even given /him/ quite the wound. Those foot soldiers would be one thing. His endurance skills are nowhere near some of his subordinate's. 

No he continues his dance with death, always stepping out of the way even as he feels that power from the mystery woman. Like some holy woman, she invokes these goddesses, and they answer. They answer with light. 

They answer with fury. 

They answer with power and fire that erupts once, twice, and finally the thing falls. 

Chrollo, so quick and oft-moving, stares down at the burning body for several seconds. He manages to get his face into something calm. And not, for instance, an avaricious gaze at such a strong technique. 

"Are you alright?" Comes Chrollo first as he turns around. Zelda looks exhausted. He smiles a bit, and then he's leaping up to the treebranch that he judges can hold his weight. 

"I'm an avowed atheist, Miss. But you might just convince me otherwise with a display like that. Call me Crow." 

Brows furrow, and he looks curious. "What /was/ that thing you just did called? Very effective." Praises Chrollo.

  The young woman is slumped over the branch by the time Chrollo looks up, an arm wrapped around the bough as though to make sure she doesn't slide off. She's still perched high enough that it would be both inconvenient and painful to fall, but she seems to be holding her own for the moment.

  As Chrollo asks after her, she reaches up and swipes a sleeve across her mouth, though she leaves the hood up. Is that a little bit of... light, like the blood is faintly luminous? It's gone before it can be observed too directly, though.

  "I have had worse." She gives another swipe of her sleeve and straightens, peering down at the motionless hulk and wrinkling her nose in clear distaste. The hood swings back over to Chrollo, and the young woman seems to study him for a long moment. Somehow, even though only the lower half of her face is visible, she seems... worn, after that; tired.

  Another brief look down and she pushes her bow back up to her shoulder, before swinging herself down and landing in a heavy crouch.

  She straightens slowly and stiffly.

  "A prayer," she answers, simply. The hood tilts slightly as she eyes him. "It was a prayer, Master Crow. In any case, you have earned your reward." The hood drops as she fishes for a pouch beneath the robe, at her belt. It's small and it jingles as she tosses it to him. Silver coins. "You have my thanks. I am Sheik, a former handmaiden of the royal family." It's become such an easy lie. "Unfortunately, there are many places suffering as this one does, though the necromancy is... a new development."

Pouch goes into robes with a barely-seen motion of his hand. He's more than happy to reap rewards for a job. He's a bandit, of /course/ he's going to get paid. Not that he didn't get paid in information! But 'Sheik' doesn't need to know that. 

"You're an excellent archer. I see the servants of royalty are skilled." More praises, kept intentionally gentle and with the smallest of smiles that's more teasing that actually patronizing. 

He tries to look like he's capable of it though. He steps back as she lands, noting the stiffness, and again how she seems so out of it. Could that power have heavy drawbacks? It seems likely. 

One hand in a pocket of his robes, Skill Hunter pulses. The book has /an/ answer. Chrollo considers. 

And lets the book fade away into motes of nen as his fingers leave it. Too early to steal from Sheik. After all, there's too much meat left on the bone of opportunity. 

"I'm a simple traveler with an interest in rare things. And I hate to see threads go loose. Particularly ones like that." He motions back to the remains of the undead. 

"Want to follow to where it ends? A person capable of magic like that is motivated. It will end in too many corpses, and threaten the name of your royal family." 

Smile. "And I'm sure I will find much more interesting things than coins in their lair. How about it?"

  "More a survival skill than a point of pride." The young woman adjusts the lay of the hood, ensuring that her face remains concealed. Only the lower half of her face is visible; clean lines, a delicate nose, and an unsmiling mouth. "Hyrule has become a hard land, and it breaks my heart."

  If she notices anything strange about hat book, she doesn't acknowledge it openly.

  The hood swings back around to regard Chrollo more directly. "Do not seek to patronise me, traveller. I know well what will happen if such threads are left untrimmed. It was my intention to investigate... if you wish to assist, I will see that you are compensated, though I will not pretend there is no danger in it."

  Her smile is thin; wintry. "It sounds as though we are agreed." A gloved hand beckons. Travelling gloves, plain leather. They're reinforced enough to offer protection, but not enough to be considered proper armour. Perhaps she's just a traveller, too, whatever her story. Or perhaps she's a thief, too, with that fine-crafted bow. "I was watching from the trees, and the majority of them appeared to be coming from the northwest. There is a trailhead that should pick up near here."

  She's off, walking quickly, as though to mask the stiffness. The way she walks suggests there is indeed a sword hidden beneath that robe, although she's made no move to draw it, as though more secure in her archery.

  The terrain changes into denser pine forests for the ascent. The young woman seems winded, but she voices not a word of complaint, gamely keeping up with her impromptu travelling companion.

  In the distance, further up the trail, is the shape of what might be a cabin.

Chrollo is nothing but smiles, keeping the warmth to something that's rogueish rather than outright mockery. Playing up the 'middle class adventurer' type, he runs his hand through his short hair. 

"I wouldn't dare. This is serious, I know. But don't let hope escape from you, no matter what the circumstances are. That thin prick of light can be the pathway to victory." Advises the man, before they're off! 

Unlike Zelda, though, Chrollo seems rather unfatigued by the journey. Not eerily so, he's just very clearly used to traveling around like this, and he's already displayed that above-human prowess besides. 

He honestly spends more time taking in the details of his companion. Tucking away how much she favors that bow, along with the light arrows she displayed earlier, a strategy slowly forms. He'll have to play protector for a while, at least in combat. 

Up go his binoculars rather than wasting any Nen, stopping at a convenient enough spot that offers a little concealment. "How would you like to handle the approach? I doubt we want to just kick the door in. A cabin...one would need quite a bit of space to make so many soldiers. There's probably an underground entrance in there, or at least nearby. Should I play lost traveler while you watch my back?" A bit of offered trust, even as he again tries to sus out her true nature.

  "More a survival skill than a point of pride." The young woman adjusts the lay of the hood, ensuring that her face remains concealed. Only the lower half of her face is visible; clean lines, a delicate nose, and an unsmiling mouth. "Hyrule has become a hard land, and it breaks my heart."

  If she notices anything strange about hat book, she doesn't acknowledge it openly.

  The hood swings back around to regard Chrollo more directly. "Do not seek to patronise me, traveller. I know well what will happen if such threads are left untrimmed. It was my intention to investigate... if you wish to assist, I will see that you are compensated, though I will not pretend there is no danger in it."

  Her smile is thin; wintry. "It sounds as though we are agreed." A gloved hand beckons. Travelling gloves, plain leather. They're reinforced enough to offer protection, but not enough to be considered proper armour. Perhaps she's just a traveller, too, whatever her story. Or perhaps she's a thief, too, with that fine-crafted bow. "I was watching from the trees, and the majority of them appeared to be coming from the northwest. There is a trailhead that should pick up near here."

  She's off, walking quickly, as though to mask the stiffness. The way she walks suggests there is indeed a sword hidden beneath that robe, although she's made no move to draw it, as though more secure in her archery.

  The terrain changes into denser pine forests for the ascent. The young woman seems winded, but she voices not a word of complaint, gamely keeping up with her impromptu travelling companion.

  In the distance, further up the trail, is the shape of what might be a cabin.

And so he does. Exposing his back to a stranger isn't exactly comfortable, but he takes it in stride. Once he's close to the cabin, he starts limping, up until the point he's at the door. 

Knock knock knock. "Ah, hello? Please open the door! I hurt my leg on the road...it's very cold, can you let me in?" Comes the thief with a very convincing voice. 

Eventually he just opens the door. It's empty, and all he's lost is a little dignity. Without a lost step at that, he's into the cabin and investigating. 

After a good thorough investigation...nothing. He even stops and starts checking the floorboards and that fireplace for any potential secret entrances. Hmm. After a while, he peeks out the door and waves to his companion's vague direction as if to signal 'it's safe'. 

Then he's back in, eyeing up the cabin in greater detail. His eyes become covered in Aura as he focuses his mind, unwilling to miss anything. 

Where would /he/ hide a zombie-making lab if he stole such an ability?

  "I am well aware of such things." 'Sheik' flutes a breath through her teeth, one of almost mild exasperation. Why does every offworlder on the road seem to profess knowing Hyrule's situation better than she does? She has better way to know this land than most. "I know this land and its situation intimately."

  Despite a slower pace than Chrollo's, she chooses her pathways confidently. She knows this land.

  Slowing to a halt, the hood lifts, mouth a thin line as she surveys the cabin. The building looks abandoned, but a thin wisp of smoke drifts from a half-crumbled chimney. She gives a quiet, thoughtful 'hmm.' "Space, yes, but I would expect such things have been done underground. Zora's Domain boasts a number of caverns. Mm. I do not doubt that the perpetrator is aware their shock troops have been dispatched."

  The hood turns again, regarding Chrollo for a long, silent moment.

  "If you trust in my aim, I will cover you." A hand is flicked at the path. "Take that approach. I will watch from above."

  With a ripple of black hood and robe, she's already off, shouldering her bow to start scaling the nearest cedar, swinging herself up to the lowermost branches. She might have moved stiffly earlier, but now it's business time. She's agile when she wants to be, in short bursts; very agile.

  In a few minutes' time she's perched up in a crook, bow across her lap, an arrow loosely strung. She's leaned forward just a bit to watch like a hawk.

  The cabin is silent as Chrollo approaches, though. There's nobody home. Abandoned? No undead seem to be around, either, although there are scattered bones in the yard. Inside, most of what's there is... pretty useless, actually. Spent or spoiled reagents, crumbled books, smudged and scuffed-out ritual circles. It's quiet and still. A table, two chairs, a rumpled cot, a cold hearth... this place looks like it's been abandoned for quite a while, actually.

And so he does. Exposing his back to a stranger isn't exactly comfortable, but he takes it in stride. Once he's close to the cabin, he starts limping, up until the point he's at the door. 

Knock knock knock. "Ah, hello? Please open the door! I hurt my leg on the road...it's very cold, can you let me in?" Comes the thief with a very convincing voice. 

Eventually he just opens the door. It's empty, and all he's lost is a little dignity. Without a lost step at that, he's into the cabin and investigating. 

After a good thorough investigation...nothing. He even stops and starts checking the floorboards and that fireplace for any potential secret entrances. Hmm. After a while, he peeks out the door and waves to his companion's vague direction as if to signal 'it's safe'. 

Then he's back in, eyeing up the cabin in greater detail. His eyes become covered in Aura as he focuses his mind, unwilling to miss anything. 

Where would /he/ hide a zombie-making lab if he stole such an ability?

  Nobody answers, and the door swings open when pushed. It's not only unlocked, but the door itself looks like the latch may have been broken. Abandoned, and long enough for highwaymen to pick the place clean, maybe.

  The arrow pointed ahead of Chrollo doesn't so much as waver. The young woman is watching, keenly. It's not until Chrollo signals the all-clear that she starts climbing down.

  By the time she approaches down the path, she still has her bow drawn and an arrow strung loosely, at the ready. Her eyes aren't visible but her mouth is set into a blade-thin line.

  This place stinks of taint.

  It isn't a literal stench, but the metaphysical wrongness of the place is obviously something Zelda can pick up on. She eyes Chrollo from the way the hood tilts sideways, but the hood shakes from side to side after a moment.

  "Abandoned. There is nothing here... either someone has been driven from this place, or it has simply been left to the wind and weather." Her mouth turns down in a slight frown. "Curious." The arrow lifts from the string; she uses the stone arrowhead to point to a loose floorboard. "Check in there, mayhap? I will stand sentry."

While Chrollo can see Nen, this kind of sharpness doesn't always extend to the metaphysical. In this case he can't see the obvious taint, but mostly because the concept of 'taint' really isn't in the young man's emotional vocabulary. He could see how disgusted 'Sheik' was in her tone, but inwardly the idea of both her own undead banishing power as well as the necromancer's power of creating such mindless soldiers are attractive. 

What kind of darkness lurks in the hearts of those able to wield that which banishes darkness? And how would such an Ability work alongside one that creates darkness? The yin and yang of it is absurdly attractive to one that feels so empty inside. 

Chrollo trusts Zelda's instincts though. She clearly knows how to detect whatever 'magic' caused this. Her proud, even grumpy demeanor reminds him far too much of Machi if they were prone to leadership desires. 

"Step back please." He settles into a low stance, Nen visibly flares around his right fist. Clenching, he /rams/ it into the floorboard with a perfect downward strike. 

The wood never stood a chance. Luckily any shards of the now well-destroyed things will glow out /inward/ rather than into Zelda's (or his!) face. 

And then he's peering in cautiously, taking a small lighter out of his pocket should it be dark. Flick! Snipt! 

The thing, almost predictably, is gold and has a spider engraved in it.

  The hooded figure obligingly steps back when indicated, but the bow is held ready and the arrow half-strung again. Either she doesn't trust this place to be truly empty, or she doesn't trust Chrollo to behave himself. It's hard to say which. She at least isn't trying to attack him while she has the opportunity, so maybe she isn't entirely hostile, despite her mistrust.

  Still, she'd thrown an arm up to shield her face, just in case Chrollo's strike did result in flying splinters. When she lowers it, it's to reveal a small alcove in the floor. Not enough to climb down in, but enough to store things in.

  There's a sack full of crystalline rupees, the local currency, glinting in hues of green, blue, and red where the linen holding them has rotted away. A few dusty, moldering tomes lie at the bottom, but they're not anything particularly special; a flip through their pages would reveal some handwritten notes, too faded to read any more. One of them is completely rotten away except for a corner, devoured by some kind of mold.

  "This place has been abandoned for some time." Zelda stows her bow and slides the arrow back into her quiver, crouching to run a gloved forefinger down the cover of the book.

  She frowns. "It's a ledger," she murmurs, picking it up and flipping it open to the middle, leafing through yellowed pages carefully. "Take whatever else you wish... but not this." The hood lowers as she tucks it under an arm, surveying the odds and ends in the hole. "Curious. Someone has been using this as a base of operations, but they have abandoned it..."

  She shakes her head. "I believe they will need to be lured out. Whoever and wherever they are. They are not here -- I do not think so. Hm."

Chrollo Lucilfer wastes almost zero time in taking the rupees, happy to enrich himself a bit for all of his troubles. Though his greater focus seems to be the books. Letting out a sigh of dissappointment, he instead turns to the one that Zelda's plucked, he considers. 

Is it really a ledger? Well, a ledger wouldn't be particularly valuable even if the information could be. 

"A ledger. Well, if we intend to lure them out, we need something valuable enough to risk their lives or a necessity to. Any clues? Does the ledger list any debts? We might be able to interrogate people connected financially with them. I have no doubt necromancy is an expensive hobby. And to have a royal handmaiden and her loyal guard shaking them for information..." It's a plan. 

Then he shrugs. "Or we wait for the next undead outbreak and cause enough damage that they focus on us as threats." He would /much/ prefer the former.