Small Island off the Coast of Sunhouse

[The Flint]

"Keep your eyes open, he whispered, as he carefully reached down to examine the doll closer.

[The Smith]

The doll appears to be a damp, slightly ruined doll of a young child. It does not wink, speak or move in Talyn's hand.

[The Flint]

Talyn tucked the doll into his waistband, and than gestured at his men, to move in two columns of five, with about about two arms length distance between each man. He himself was in the second man from the front in the right hand column.

They began to slowly move forward down the tunnel, watching cautiously, especially for any smaller branches which might appear off to the sides.

[The Smith]

After a long while it turns right and starts descending at a steep grade. The floor is slick with water that drips from the ceiling occasionally.

[The Flint]

Talyn tried to visualize where on the Island they would be beneath, but quickly lost track, They continued to flow, his hobnailed boots struggling to grip into the hard wet stone.

[The Smith]

They descend down the tunnel for a long time, then there is a rushing sound behind him. It sounds like a wave of water crashing along a rocky beach.

[The Flint]

"Ah... shit," he muttered, gesturing for the men to double time it forward, hoping an exit up to the surface would soon be found.

[The Smith]

The sound grew louder behind him, and then then screams as a giant wave of salty water roared over the backs of his men. Soon it had caught up to Thatcher and all of them were crashing against rocky walls, and one another. For long scary black moments Talyn is thrown end over end in the rushing wave, and then his head collides with the side. His fingers scrape along the wall, and his careening slows.

When the tunnel gives way to a larger chamber, Thatcher grabs onto a stone pillar and keep himself from falling off a ledge. As the water ends he is lying alone his fingers wrapped around the stone, his legs hanging off the edge of a cliff he does not know the depths of, and cloaked in complete blackness.

[The Flint]

Talyn clung to the pillar fiercely, as the water slows, and than began the struggling effort of pulling himself, inch by inch, back onto the flat stone surface. His lungs heaving, as he sucked for breathe, he finally struggled to his feet and tried to take stock of his position.

[The Smith]

He was wet, there were no torches, nor sounds around except the drip of water. And he was standing in the pitch black next to cliff whose depth he did not know.

[The Flint]

Cautiously he reached out, and kept one hand on the pillar, and stretched out with his foot, tapping it against the stone to try and judge whether it was a full step that would support his weight, He extended his free hand to see if he could reach another pillar.

[The Smith]

Slowly he found that the pillar marked the edge of the cliff. To its left was a horrible death, and two the right was a small floor that ran along a wall.

[The Flint]

Talyn cautiously put one foot in front of the other across the small floor, with his hand stretching out in front him, tracing along the wall, trying to feel his way across without ending up taking the quick route down.

[The Smith]

Several times he drifted to close to the edge, but he was able to maintain his balance. A long time passed before he felt a wooden surface in front of him.

As he moved through the darkness he was able to hear the explosion of water seven more times. It seemed to happen at a fairly regular progress. And once he swore he heard a scream, and metal clanging along with the rush of water.

[The Flint]

Talyn sighed softly in the darkness, hoping it wasn't one of his people who'd gotten curious and decided to investigate their absence. Still there was nothing to do but to press on. as he walked he kept his hand on the wall at about shoulder height, hoping against hope he'd bump into a torch along the wall.