"Alright, should be smooth sailing from here on out."
Garth's low yet stern tone attracted the attention of both his underlings and the two outsiders as they descended into a particularly spacious central chamber, not another moment paid to the trail of ravished cult-worshipping fanatics left in their wake.
Contrary to the seemingless endless hall proceeding it where wave after wave of Corruption-worshipping fodder had met their end, not a soul greeted them here. What did, however, were a fork of doorways that did more to annoy Erviel than anything as a scowl crossed his maw.
"How goddamn original for a hideout. You'd better know the easiest path further in." He growled towards the gargoyle leader, feeling his patience beginning to wear thin.
The aura of vengeance that had befallen the stone legion as they gazed upon the chamber seemed to have permeated even the stone of the room itself, to the point where it seemed to be withering and decaying less from age, and more from their rage.
"Let's see…" Garth rumbled with a step forward, a hand pressed to his lower jaw whilst he examined each exit. "This place isn't very deep, that central doorway should lead us down to the next floor. Another floor or two after that 'till we reach the basement--where I'm pretty sure they're holding that dragon."
"Here I was thinking you'd make me choose." Erviel smirked before adjusting his cloak and giving the dagger in his claws another twirl. "What's so special about this 'basement' then?"
"Heh, you can't already feel it?"
Erviel paused, a quizzical look drawing upon his face. The air hadn't exactly changed very much compared to when they had been outside, but the longer he focused the more he felt… heard some sort of idle hum through the air. An odd, monotonous sound that made the latex coating him shiver, as though it'd burst off him any moment.
The very air was vibrating with magic. An unsettling symphony of endless sound and stream of noise pouring from further within with no signs of stopping.
"The deeper you go in this city, the closer you get to its 'core.'" Garth nodded at his realization, gesturing idly to the intense glow of the runes across his body. "This little sanctuary? Always been flooded with leaking magic. There's a few fragments of the city's core that kinda pushed up to the surface a long while back. Makes a good feeding ground for me 'n my boys. Until those schmucks showed up 'n thought they owned the place." He spat out the last words with obvious disdain.
"They never knew shit about what this place really meant to us." The voice of another gargoyle added.
"Then we keep moving." Erviel stated, more to himself than to the gargoyles; darkened expression stifled behind an eager grin. "Don't want to keep 'em waiting any longer. Lead the way."
A single nod was all it took from the gargoyle leader before they ventured forth into the darkness of the sanctuary, as he had called it.
With each step, Erviel could feel the buzz of magic grow louder and louder until it was all but deafening. Coupled with the impermeable shadow cloaking the corridor, a shroud only pierced by the immense glow radiating from the brands upon the gargoyles beside him and the holy light from Ilver's hands--he felt as though he was in a dream.
And the closer and deeper they went, the more he wondered if the power which flowed through the air truly was Corruption… or something far worse.