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Thomas shot the flame right through the standing Hennessey, but it passed through as if he were a ghost, then Thomas ran through him also.

"Looks like the drow knows a little about ghasts as well, I'm a bit impressed." Hennessey smarmed before looking back to Pat.

Hennessey reached down to Pat and placed his hand on his chest, a flash of blue light appeared. Pat lifted into the air, held by his own magic.

"In you go!" Hennessey quiped before striking Pat in the chest with an open palm, the instant the blow connected his own magic launched him backwards into the archives , flying a good distance and nearly slamming into Thomas.

Pat was starting to get control back of his body and started to squirm on the floor.
Hennessey was there instantaneously, pacing back and forth in the dark.
"Buzzard breath!! Go find the circuit breaker for the lights!" Hennessey barked at BlightBeak.
 
Maybe she was losing touch. She felt ghasts slapping her, but her scales offered a little protection. There were places were her skin was exposed, though, blackened from the corruption eating her insides.. if a ghast slapped there, she was bound to feel the effect. It made her feel sluggish, really. But it enraged her.

Her human form was completely forgotten, and she was nothing more than a thrashing wyrm amidst a sea of pale flesh. Her claws tore into them, her teeth ripping them apart.. The column of fire that sudden flashed across the room brought her to her senses. Or something close to them. It made her think of other dragons, though she'd only seen one colony of firebreathers before the world fell apart.

Barely, she registered people running into another room (and one of them being unceremoniously tossed by an unseen force). She had to work hard, past the sluggishness trying to pull her down, to realize they were her friends. So she had to gouge her way from a crowd of ghasts, all still slapping at her scales, and drag herself to the doors of the archive.

Wow, was she getting tired. She growled as she finally came to a collapsed stop near Thomas and Pat, the noise sounding awfully close to boiling water. She couldn't even figure a way to string a sentence together that these people would understand, her thoughts flooded with a longing of home.
 
Pat slowly fumbled onto his stomach, and pushed himself onto his knees. As he slowly and shakily rose to his feet he noticed Surpy join them.

Pat slowly did the walk of a drunk over to her as the lights of the wharehouse slowly clapped on, the interior revealing huge shelves of many aisles reaching 3 stories tall,reaching 150 yards or so back, all lined with a grab bag of objects, everything from swords to suitcases to human skulls to teapots, each with a multi-page explanation tied to it.

"Look around while I check on Surpy, there might be something useful. Then ill find the information we need." Pat said stumbling down to a cross legged sit next to Surpys head.

Hennessey was standing opposite Pat with worried look on his face as well.
"Is she ok?" Hennessey asked.
"I hope so." Pat said to the thin air.
 
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((For purposes of logic, all characters that have not posted since the ghast attack did not make it. Of course this can be changed later if you wish to re-join, but until now those characters are to be considered KIA.))

Surpy and Pat had made it through, albeit rather roughly. The others didn't make it. Their screams were muffled to Thomas by his own heartbeat and footsteps as he moved onward into the Archives. As the ghasts tore into his friends, he steeled himself against the wave of sorrow. He could be sad later. Now, there was work to be done. "Pat," he called, turning his head towards the man. "What exactly are we looking for here?" he looked at many of the objects, briefly skimming over their descriptions. Swords of ancient kings, grimoires of dark arcanists, intricate mechanical constructs of the lost Dwarven civilizations. It was a perfect documentation of mystic history, with artifacts dating back to as far as the first Elvish Tribes, through the devolution of some Elves into Orcs, the Rise of Gaerhaal and the Dwarves, the start of Man, the Fae, the dragons, the first documentations of the workings of magic, all the way up to the fall of Festanus, the last known Lich to have plagued the world.

Here, untold amounts of knowledge resided, and had for hundreds of years. Whoever had made this place had been a busy little bee.

"Because it might take a bit of looking to find it."
 
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"In the back there should be a room with filing cabinets, they hold what you need. Ill get the information once I have a look around." Pat said as he checked on Surpy, making sure she would hang on a bit longer.
" You can't die yet... I still need you." He said under his breath as he got up and started scanning the shelves.

He was very quickly walking up and down the aisle, as if he was grocery shopping and knew the store by heart, pulling things off the shelves and shoving them in his bag, among them a small lacquered wood puzzlebox with gold engraving and a blood red pendant, seemingly dripping red energy. His eyes fell upon a black tome that made him pause.

"yesss" he whispered out slowly, as he pulled it off the shelf, the book seeming to fall in and out of existence as he did so.
 
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The dragon remained a tired heap of scales, the labored rise and fall of breath the only movement. Her eyes rolled about, then focused briefly on moving shapes. Pat and Thomas were walking around-- where was everyone else? She tried to move, to question it, but her muscles screamed and it felt like she was trying to tear through steel bindings in her weakened state.

She felt powerless, so weak.

She wanted to explore the archives too, darn it. But sleep sounded like such a good idea. Her eyes drifted again, slowly closing. Her breathing made an attempt to even out, but remained ragged and shallow. As she slept, she dreamed.

She dreamed of home, of swimming in her lake again, of her family. The feeling of the cool water, healing her broken scales, cleansing the corruption in her... It felt wonderful. She swam and danced in the water, her tail spiraling her in tight patterns...

And thrashing against the floor of the archive, until she woke herself up and shot onto her clawed feet, staring around in utter confusion. At least she could move again. Her mind was racing, though, and any attempt at magic would end in disaster for sure. The exploration of the archive would have to be saved for smaller folk.
 
Pat worked his way to the back room and began shifting through the filing cabinets, old secrets and records lay between recordings of politicians saying stupid things and old world food recipes. Suddenly he heard a large crash as Surpy thrashed awake, but was to deep into the cabinet to check on her.

"N...N.... N-N-Nymph, Water! FOUND IT!!" Pat exclaimed.

He walked back into the main room flipping through the file and found the location in it.

"Gimme your map Thomas. Ill mark it." He said as he open his own map book and marked the location, and he marked another location with a cross.
 
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