“I’ll take the lead then.” Dovhran said with a sigh. “Wherever this little slide goes, I’ll be the quickest on my feet. I should be able to get out safely and help you two get out safely as well.”

Selian looked to the changeling with pleasant surprise. “Have you ever done any underwater caving before? You know, swimming underground?”

The question brought pause to the changeling as he retracted a leg from the opening. “No.Have you? Is there something I should know?”

“Just don’t panic. There will always be an air pocket if it’s a commonly traveled passage.”

Dovhran gulped down a mouthful of air, suddenly realizing that he may not get the chance to breath easily for a significant amount of time. Though, that significance was probably being overstated. The hole in the wall was still mostly above water. There was more air flowing through it than water, at least at the top. But as Dovhran adjusted his eyes to see into the darkness he saw the beginning of a steep descent. If it wasn’t underground and hadn’t been constructed by an incredibly powerful and dangerous mage, the smooth watery chute into darkness might have have actually been fun. But it was underground, and it had been constructed by an incredibly skilled and dangerous mage… and worst of all, Dovhran had to do it in his traveling clothes. He didn’t know what would lay beyond the drop, what difficulty he had to face. It might be a trap with flames again and the only method of surviving was to be in fully drenched clothing. So, Dovhran adjusted his pack to rest on his chest, gently sat down in the murky cave water, and let the gentle pull of the current slowly pull him through the hole in the wall.

Before he vanished entirely, he gave one last piece of instruction. “Don’t follow immediately after me. Wait half a minute or so just in case I get lodged in a sharp turn or other obstacle. The only thing worse than smashing into a stone obstacle on a fast and slick descent would be to have someone crash into me while I’m trying to get my bearings again.”

“We’ll give you some time.” Selian answered blankly. But Dovhran was already gone.

“Perhaps…” Flip approached the hole with the hatch outstretched.

“That may not fit, Faengil.” Selian murmured. The elf was, for once, aware of what the wizard was attempting to discern.

Flip returned the hatch to his back before responding cheerfully. “I’ve just realized. We still have yet to find the high priest’s body. Assuming it is in here, it may have been taken down past this chute. Which means it likely had to be accompanied by one or more persons. I doubt the tunnel gets very narrow if that was the case.”

Selian’s eyes narrowed as she stared into the distance and let the wizard’s assessment process. She envisioned what it might have looked like. A wizard in a luxurious violet robe with a corpse dressed religious in burial finery positioned in front of him, descending down a water slide. As preposterous as the mental image was, it was likely how it was done. Velsaffe wouldn’t have been laid to rest until at least the lowest stage of the tomb had been properly constructed. And that would mean that the water slide down to whatever chambers lay beyond had likely already been constructed. Unless there was a whole other layer beyond what they were about to venture into, which was possible; but the elf could hardly bear to think about what that might entail.

“You should go now.” Flip said with a gesture to the hole. “It’s been about a minute.”

“Right.” Selian nodded absently.

The elf had lost focus. But that was quickly remedied when she sat at the opening of the slide down. Her arms held on to the sides of the opening as she turned to give Flip one last look.

“Don’t be too far behind me, okay?”

“Of course not.” Flip offered a perhaps overenthusiastic grin as he said it.

Without more time to waste or words to say, Selian tucked her arms in and let the water pull her down into the tunnel. Flip didn’t hear a sound as she disappeared.

“That should be about enough...” Flip mumbled to himself after perhaps ten seconds had passed.

It probably had not actually been enough time. But Flip spent an additional thirty or so seconds situating himself. He moved his pack and the hatch to his front, rolled up his robes enough to prevent his legs from being tangled, and made sure any books he had on his person were in their sealed waterproof pouches on his person. Satisfied that he was ready to descend, Flip sat down and scooted over to the hole in the wall. Sitting down had the odd side effect of causing his bottom to sink down to the actual stony floor of the tall shaft he had dropped down. The sound of rushing water grew louder as he crept upon the opening. In moments his feet were dangling out into the tube, and he could feel the pulled of the water flowing down the tunnel as it tried to take him with it. And he let it take him.

Flip laid back and inched forward, letting himself get soaked to the bone as the water nearly washed over his slim form. It did not take much at all for him to go after that. It wasn’t a particularly fast descent at first, almost like sliding down a dry hill, but within the first twenty feet the acceleration kicked in and Flip found himself barreling feet first at a galloping horse’s pace down an ever steeper straight slide. At the middle of the drop Flip almost felt as though he was falling at a completely vertical angle, as the water had started to fall all around him and he had to gasp for air, but the slope soon began to taper out again into a more horizontal shape. By the time Flip felt that he was sliding firmly on his back again he realized that his head was wetter than it had been before, that there were droplets of water splattering against his scalp. His hat was gone.

The realization of his lost hat was undercut severely by a shift in trajectory. Flip felt his body pressed firmly against the smooth stone beneath him as the chute began to curve upwards and the force of his momentum kept him going. And then, without warning, Flip was airborne.

He wasn’t in the air for very long, only a few seconds, but it was enough time for several things to happen. First, Flip realized quickly why the slide was where it was to begin with. It was a deterrent, and the most dangerous his group had yet encountered. There was no going back up the way they came. It was a far too late realization, but it made the rest of Flip’s airborne observations click into place. The space he had been flung from the slide into was a large done cavern, well lit with arcane light sources embedded into the walls. Immediately below him, Flip saw a pool of water about ten feet deep and beyond that the floor of the chamber was composed of sand and gravel. It was the final room of the tomb, or it appeared to be. There were no other doors or openings to be seen in the well lit space, not that that had stopped them from finding a way deeper in before.

The final observation Flip had was the most important, and it was the most distressing as well. They were not alone. As Theidow had told them, there was one other living thing within the tomb. And that thing was there. A humanoid creature in an incredibly ornate heavy suit of armor sat at the opposite side of the room leaning up against the wall. Or it had been leaning. As Flip dropped to the small pool of water below him, he saw it move as if attempting to stand.

What Flip did not see, and what confused him, was a coffin or sarcophagus for the body of the high priest to be laid in. If it was indeed the final room of the tomb they had either missed something or there was indeed something else to be found. But there was no way back and no time to find anything moving forward.

With an exaggerated splash, Flip tumbled into the pool of water. His form was poor and he felt the sting of a flat impact spread throughout his torso. But despite the pain, the wizard managed to keep a firm grasp on his luggage; namely his bag and his hatch. And before he could make an effort to scramble to the surface of the pool and haul himself onto the gravel floor of the chamber, two hands dipped down into the water and hooked under his arms to lift him free.

Selian and Dovhran stood there, feet sinking slightly into the soft soil, a wizard held up between them. All three were soaked to the bone, cold, tired, wounded to some degree. And before them stood a creature they could not begin to comprehend. Girt in fine armor of unknown make; neither dwarvish nor elvish, nor orcish design stood out and no other great smithing traditions could have produced such fine work. It was a fine suit of steel and gems hidden in mud; metal flared in wings and decoration, while chains hung from beneath the plate and seemed to tinkle as it moved. And beneath the winged plate helm of the armored figure, two silver beads of light shone through. And as it stood to greet the newcomers, two voices rang out to speak.

The first was light and reverberated through the room as though it were spoken through a tuning fork. It said, “Who art thee, to have come so far to see a dead man?”

And the second spoke is a harsh hissing whisper, a dreadful voice that Flip recognized as soon as he heard it. “You’ve made it. And heard me. Now free me!”