Deacon came across a T intersection that made him stop in his tracks. Without Typhus leading him around he didn’t know which way he should go. He thought probably left, yes left seems right. With a soft chuckle to himself he proceeded down the left passage. Not ten steps in he heard a snap sound and felt six pin pricks in his chest. When he looked down, he noticed darts were sticking out of his tattered shirt strips. They hit every strip and not his body. How is that even possible? He swiped his hand down his chest to dislodge the sticky missiles. Ok traps mean civilization, civilization means people, people mean a way out. Deacon continued down the hall until he reached a curving passage. That curve led to a door with some writing on it.

“Can’t read that”, he said and proceeded to open the door. Inside he found three soldiers in chain mail sitting around a table. Unfortunately for them, they have long since expired. He walked over to the table to see they were playing a card game. Did they die in the middle of it? What could have caused that? Just then their bodies started to glow that faint green color he’s become so accustomed too. Perfect opportunity to test out his new ability, or so he thought. The furthest from him stood up. With a jolt Deacon jumped back a few paces. It slowly walked over to him, but Deacon thought better of it and kicked the table over on top of it. Of course, that’s when the other two started to move. He pushed one over and grabbed its chair to bash the daylights out of the other. One down, two to go. Once the bashing was successful, the one he "old lady shoved" managed to get back to its feet. Deacon spun the chair around only to find he was just holding on to the backrest. That was all the opportunity the shambler needed to grasp him. To Deacon’s surprise, that just filled him with an energetic feeling. Within a minute the corpse crumbled to dust. He immediately grabbed the leg of the one he bashed with the chair earlier and got the same feeling. Oh he’s on a roll now. Still trapped under the table like a turtle on its back, Deacon casually walked over to the third body and placed his hand on its chest. He took in 3 deep breaths, ignoring the stench of the dead, and watched the energy flow from the soldier into him.

Deacon took everything. The three suits of armor, the cards, both remaining chairs, and nope the table won’t fit in the satchel. So much for magic items. He wasn’t about to wear their corpse dusted clothes, but he did mange to get one of their chausses on over his pants. Some leg protection isn’t a bad thing.

He began looking around, this room isn’t part of the catacombs nor is it a cave. There is a door out, a string that leads into the ceiling and sconce. No need for a torch thanks to his eyes, Deacon proceeded through the exit door. What he found was a ladder that led up. Deacon began to cough and found it was getting difficult to breath. Maybe that stench wasn’t the corpse but a gas pocket down here. That would explain why their bodies were still there with no sign of a struggle. The sign on the door probably said danger. Up was the next direction to go.

At the top of the ladder was a hatch. A very promising hatch, in that daylight was peeking through the cracks. Deacon stopped to listen. He didn’t hear anything and pushed on the hatch. Locked. He pushed harder hearing the wood warp and bend. Still nothing. He decided to hunch under it in a crouch on the third to last rung and pushed up with his legs. There’s that cracking sound he was waiting for, the hatch smashed up with a loud wham! Oh, that makes sense, seems someone piled tons of objects on top of the hatch to prevent people from going down there. Boxes and rugs and various supplies…. supplies? He dug through the boxes and was delighted he found what looked like hard bread. Took a bite and felt instantly better. Deacon must have been starving. Washed it down with a little water from his skin and kept looking around. This room had two windows, a door out and a tapestry. The tapestry depicted a battle between what looked like bearded Deep Dwellers and those without beards. On the Dwellers side they had machines of war like ballistae and catapults. On the beardless side they had what looked like Ogres and monsters. He could say Ogres because they had obvious clubs in their hands. Outside the windows it was a sunny day looking over a cliff. I must be in the back of a building on a hill, he thought as he moved over to the window.