Calia stares at Myr's strange sword as he cuts through the door like it's cloth instead of wood and steel. "Well, uh, that's certainly one way to pick a lock." The alarm goes off and she winces. Well, nothing that could be done about that now. One minute. No one comes. She rummages around in her bag for a moment before pulling out a torch, already lit. The fire burns as bright as any other, but gives off no heat at all. "Just follow me."

She holds the torch high as she descends into the darkness that she once called home.