October 4th, 1433 A.E., in the Crypt of Mazzarin

The coolness of the forest air gave way to a cold stillness. The stillness of the grave. The smell of moist earth and dead vegetation permeated the dust shrouded crypt.

Without warning, there was the sound of grinding stone, followed by a roaring crash, and then darkness. The doors to the crypt had shut behind them. Damas and Connacht put their strength to the stone doors, but to no avail. Darkness was all about them.

With a soft spoken word, a dim light filled the air. Myrdred was staring at a mural etched into the stone wall. Passing his hands over the pictographs and runes, he began to smile... and just as quickly frowned.

It appeared that they had indeed found Mazzarin's Crypt. The writing read:

"Within lies the final resting place of Mazzarin, the first Avatara. To enter this realm, is to forfeit one's life."

As Ravanna stared ahead into the blackness, a low moaning sound rolled and echoed down the corridor-like the final breath in dying man's throat.