Fire Entry

The house was on fire. This much was obvious thanks to the flames, but it didn't go far in the way of answering questions. Mainly the few that ran through Morgans head were: "How did I get here?", "Where is here?", and the final but most important one of "Why is the house on fire?". He was pretty sure it was a house anyway, though it was hard to tell while lying on his back on the floor. The room was wide with a tall ceiling that seemed to be operating as a gate unto Hell itself. Support beams blazed and crackled, one seemed to give up the ghost and dropped entirely.

Okay He thought, Okay, burning building and no idea where I am. Not the worst morning I've had.

Morgan tried to speak, but it came out as a croaking, half-formed noise. Sitting up, he cleared his throat and looked around. He was in a dining hall, or something like it. The central table was a pyre reaching high into the ceiling, with the chairs around it appearing like crackling dancers caught midst song and suddenly feeling ashamed.

"Morgan, are you dead?" Morgan barely heard the voice over the flames, but it brought a sense of security to his mind. It was Artessa, if she was alive then perhaps he wasn't as screwed as he'd expected.

"I'm up, and breathing. Might be still be dead though." Morgan groaned.

"Ah good, I see the fires haven't put a damper on your good humour."

"Where are you?" He called to the room. A second beam, as well as a fair bit of the roof, crashed nearby adding fuel to the inferno. "Tell me you weren't under that."

"Stay down and try not to talk so much." She sounded distant, almost like it was from another room.

Right, stay down and stay silent. I can do that. Sounds like she's got a plan at least. Doing his best to avoid the growing flames of what must have been a priceless carpet, Morgan dropped onto his stomach. He patted his sides and felt the forms of his weapons. Okay. So we've still got weapons. Morgan pulled the modified flintlock from its holster and scanned the room. So how do we-

Morgan, can you hear me? Artessas voice felt like a rake being drawn over his brain.

"I can hear you, though it's kind of painful."

Reply in your mind. Conserve your air.

I'm lying on my stomach in a burning dinning hall.

I'm in the next room over, see if you can find a way out. I'll do the same over here and we can meet up in the hallway.

With a grunt he pushed himself upward and into a crouch that made his knees scream. Keeping the gun in position to level out at any sign of danger, Morgan shifted around the room, debris, and fire towards where he suspected a door might be. As it turned out, he was right. A massive pair of engraved oak doors stood at the end of short hallway leading out of the room.

I've got a door here, He thought but we've got a problem.

Aside from a burning building, swiftly decreasing air, and a lack of knowledge on where we're at?

You don't know either? Look thats a problem with a longer conversation, the problem here is that one of the beams crashed in front of the door and I can't get anywhere near it.

There was a silence that felt like just long enough for a deep sigh, then he heard something tap on the wall.

Are you on the other side of that wall there?

Currently, but I'm suspecting I shouldn't be much longer.Morgan thought

Artessa somehow managed a laugh through the connection and he could feel the smile in her thoughts. Probably. I'm gunna blow the wall apart.

Give me a moment to move aside then go ahead.

Morgan crouch walked his way back down the hall, then tapped the wall with the tip of the flintlock. I'm clear

There was the sound of a tornado, and all at once the barrier separating himself and Artessa shattered and spun outward. Wind blasted past him and knocked Morgan back on his heels. Bits of the fire grew and screamed as the wind picked up flames and threw them further. Wasting as little time as possible, he slipped through the newly made hole. Artessa stood on the otherside, clothes slightly charred but otherwise still looking every bit the part of a mage in their element. The hallway she was in had a higher ceiling, and holes in the roof had begun to vent the smoke higher allowing the pair to stand.

"Well," She said while raising a hand to her chin. "You looked worse when I hired you. If anything, the ash is an improvement."

"I'm glad your okay too. Now any idea where we are?

"Aside from the-"

"Yes aside from the whole burning building thing." He said

"Hmm. My guess is some kind of church."

"Oh, wonderful. We're not just in a burning building, but now the gods are going to blame us for it too." He sighed and rubbed his temples. "Did you find anything? A way out? A box of treasure? I'd even take priceless artifacts."

"How wonderfully civic minded of you to think of preservation of a church's belongings." The cynicism nearly dripping from every word.

"For your information-" The faintest pop over the roaring flames was all the warning Morgan had, yet something in his mind forced his body forward. He crashed into Artessa, sending the both of them crashing to the ground as a bullet indented the wall where she'd been standing. He rolled to the side, pulled himself into a crouch as fast as he could, and fired a shot off at the retreating form of the attacker. He could only make out the hazy outline of the body, but he took the shot nonetheless. Then, dropping the gun back into its holster, Morgan pulled out the thin dagger along his leg and made ready for another strike.

He had, in his defense, prepared for an attack from the front and back. It was only poor luck that one of the bastards stepped on a weakened piece of roof that caved under the weight. The attacker, equally surprised by the sudden assault, had just enough sense to draw a blade to defend themselves before dropping hard onto Morgan. When sense returned and

"We've come for the girl." The attacker had a male voice, raspy and drawn out. "Stand aside."

"Let's just talk about this, perhaps you haven't noticed but we're in something of a fire trap here."

"Give us Artessa and you may flee with your life."

"Charming offer. Counter Offer," A blast of Ether energy washed over the mans back, lifting him off the ground throwing him into a flaming wall.

"You okay?" Artessa asked, hand still smoking from the energy.

"You just had to let him say the line, didn't you?" Morgan slipped the blade back into its sheathe and drew the sword at his side. If conflict was the order of the day, he'd surely deliver.

"I saved you, didn't I?"

"Hey, I had him. That guy was hardly a threat."

"Can we just find a way out of here?"

"That first one ran off in that direction." Morgan said. "Pretty sure that's a solid enough lead to follow."