For about fifteen minutes, the group adventured deeper into the catacombs, their feet echoing strangely in the damp, cold caves. They made little other sound as they moved, the eerie dark enforcing an unnatural silence. Varla's illusory light did much to make the shadows jump and dance threateningly and did nothing to chase away the chill as they passed through tunnels barely wide enough to squeeze through, which opened into mighty caverns large enough to be airplane hangars. Kryschenn concentrated on the sword in her hands, thinking that maybe she was feeling just the slightest hum vibrate through her weapon. Were they getting close to something? Something magical? In a high cavern about the size of the now-destroyed ballroom in Yarfell palace, she paused and slowly turned around, the sword held straight out before her like the needle on a compass. Where was it coming from? She couldn't tell. Or was it just wishful thinking? Which way should they go now? There were at least three tunnels leading off this cavern.
"Presto," she said after a moment. "Can you tag this tunnel as the way we came in? We might get lost if we don't have a...there it is again!" she suddenly shrieked. "There! It's right there! Oh, nuts, it's gone again!" She turned back to her companions, pointing at the tunnel furthest to the right. "Did you guys see it that time? In that tunnel? It was there for about two seconds but it was right there."
Kryschenn listened, a little crestfallen, to the generally negative answers.
"But I know it was there!" she insisted. "Half of you probably think I'm cracked, but I know saw it. I think that's the way we're supposed to go." Turning quickly, wanting to avoid seeing some of the condescending looks she figured she was going to receive from those who probably questioned her sanity, she moved towards the tunnel she had seen the invisible spirit in.
She had not taken two steps when a large stalactite dislodged itself from the cavern roof and fell toward her head.
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