A shimmering gold portal pulsed once, twice, causing a ripple. From within emerged a lone elf who plopped to the ground butt first sounding a soft grunt, then rolled to the side as she tried to steady herself, frightened by her own echo.

She glanced intensely at her surroundings; gold light reflected off her large pale blue eyes emitting from the portal. Dark walls stretched around her, and she found herself in a familiar place, a passageway.

"A tunnel!" she gasped as she tried to push herself off the ground but plopped right back down. Nassaria cursed.

Nauseous and tired, she steadied her breathing and focused on one goal: to get as far as possible from the portal.

Earlier, she wittingly used the steam produced from the explosion and used it to cover her short frame as she quickly sprinted towards the golden pool and slid in. It was only a guess, but fortune favours the bold, and fortunately, it worked, not to mention she was able to grab a satchel from the ground during her escape.

She decided that she didn't want to wait long for the Lil'Noamuth to surge in after her.

They usually shouldn't be able to. The tunnels and the passageways of this world had a hidden power that kept the Lil'Noamuth away except for the more powerful ones, but even they couldn't stay here for a long time.

Still, she didn't want to take any chances. Naasaria quickly inspected the satchel and found a canteen filled with water and took a quick sip, then pushed herself up against the wall to her restless legs and loped awkwardly, choosing the left path.

A bell later, she reached the tunnel's exit and looked outside of the Archway, catching sight of the yellow brick road surrounded by the endless Elghinn'Yorli.

She sighed and looked behind tensely; her senses did not pick up pursuers if there were any. She had a decision to make, but before that.

She wilted down to her knees and quickly opened the satchel. There were some rations, a few potions and the canteen she drank from earlier. She urgently took a mouthful of water and gurgled, spitting out blood from the cuts within her mouth and endured the unpleasant stings. Then consumed the first ration followed up by a mild heal potion and a mild stamina potion. She looked back and forth, weighing the choices she had to make. Her thoughts lingered on her dead crew.

"Probably dragged into the mist turned by now," she sniffed sadly. Her thoughts trailed towards the choices that led her and her crew here.

Before the expedition, her Captain convinced them to take on this contract with the Elfen Siblings.

He said that the Gils from this contract would set them up for two cycles, that the contractors were a bunch of rich royal looking brats off to on an adventure to pamper their egos and look for treasure.

His lover Kornelia, always the bright one in the group, tried to convince him that two younglings were Frost Elves with no background who suddenly showed up and started recruiting Divers. That the expedition was in the unknown zones.

Such a request was out of the ordinary. It didn't help that they paid double the rates for such an endeavour, but they looked skilled for their age and seemingly acted out of their typical Ice Elfen nature. Course, their Captain knew this but times were tough, and they had few options to choose from, either that or work as mercenaries for the different lords and factions fighting in different planes. Mercenary work was chaotic, and Dark Elves were usually underpaid due to their history with the other elves, which the other races took advantage of.

As it may, the contractors were Frost Elves, and Frost Elves were reclusive and stubborn folk. They did not necessarily interact with other races, including other elves, and they were proud folk who liked to keep to themselves in cold and mountainous terrain.

Yet, these two younglings appeared in their city. They started to contract several known Veteran Diver crews for an expedition to dive into unknown territory. They were to map the areas for future investments and look for some treasure and have an adventure.

Usually, only powerful families and the wealthy would take such a risky endeavour. It usually failed except for the few lucky ones who found planes, thus gaining power, wealth and prestige. That is only if they could keep it.

Nassaria finally realized the expedition was a deception. The siblings were after the Orb, the same item the shaman mentioned earlier and more, so he planned the ambush.

"They must have probably found it inside that temple lair within that plane that they came upon when no one was looking," she thought, rubbing her face grimly.

She went through the timeline of events that led to the expedition that lead to its demise and decided to move as the potion started healing her minor cuts.

Her eyes followed the yellow road as far as she could and picked off a dark structure hanging between the clouds. A sense of relief took her. It was the peak of a mountain, which meant a gate, and if lucky, it could mean a way back home. She hoped that the Diver's Guild administered it and not some nefarious group.

She quickly got up, packed up her satchel and promptly exited the tunnel. She only took a few strides when she spotted a sword enclosed in a dark wooden sheath close to the edge of the yellow road. The mist was only a few paces from the attractive looking blade.

It had the same elven shape as her blades, a single-edged blade with a slight curve at the end.

The sheath was as dark as night; embedded on it was an elven inscription in silver, but its width and length were more extensive than what elves used for blades. She imagined a mighty elf warrior bellowing orders to a legion of elves while he carried this majestic sword.

She knew what this was, a trap. The treasure was real, but so was the tentacles waiting to spring on whoever it sensed.

She clucked her tongue. Luckily this was her skill set, she had an affinity with shadow magic, and her shadow clone skill was perfect for this. She had trained the skill for several years. It did take a lot of mana out of her and needed a few seconds of concentration, but it was dammed great for escaping and, better yet, thieving if timed correctly.

She smirked that she wouldn't have to come back home empty; this was a treasure that could settle her for a long time. Now that her team was dead, she didn't feel like diving anymore and would rather go back to the thieving or, more seriously, open a shop if she had the right capital.

Her eyes darted between the sword and the peak of the mountain that could lead to home. Then her eyes settled at the sword.

Nassaria had made her decision.