Aran had heard whispers in the caves about a magic level higher than the one he possesses. Curiosity had overtake him and he'd come to Polaris to see. If there is something more that he can learn, Aran will push to discover it.

Aran, though - isn't sure what to look for. He's explored all of Polaris by this point in his life. Is there really something he's missed after this long? It's possible, the caves are always changing.... Either way, he keeps going.

He's sure he'll know what he's looking for when he finds it.

What he was looking for, it turned out, was a round hole in Polaris's wall. It had been a door, for many decades: inscribed with concentric circles, etched with hints and puzzles. But that door had rolled back, and beyond yawned a space the size of a large basketball court or so, dusty and dimly lit but otherwise empty of life or features.

There was no sign of anyone inside--perhaps Aran had to enter, or call out, before anything would happen.

@Aran

After some more time wandering, Aran quickly spots something he's never seen before. Odd... Still, ignoring the strange feeling, he enters. There's an empty room within the cave's wall, Aran almost things he's stumbled across someone's old home. Except there's no sign of any life having been here before.

"Hello?" He calls out loudly.

Surely this means something? No one just puts an empty hole in the cave - was it used for some kind of quest before? The emptiness around him gives Aran no answers.

A flutter, a rustle--and it's oddly silent compared to the huge black form that suddenly appears from the ceiling of the room, sweeping down to land before Aran with a click of massive talons.

The enormous, ram-horned owl looked Aran up and down, the ragged feathers that wreathed its form shifting from dripping wet with water (a puddle forming underfoot) to seething with unseen movement, a rank and rotten odor lifting from its body. "UGH. ONE OF YOU. WELL! WHY ARE YOU HERE? YOUR MAGIC IS STRONG, IF IT WAS FOR EMUH'S TRIAL," Emuh said. "NOT STRONG ENOUGH TO SURVIVE IT! YOU KNOW ONLY ONE OF YOUR MAGICS?! ...BUT STRONG ENOUGH TO TRY." He cackled, a sound that echoed through the darkening room behind him.

@Aran

The absolute massive owl that sweeps down before Aran almost has him bolting - he hadn't seen the strange figure at all! The horned owl makes him curious all the same, but the scent of wetness and rot puts him off of the curious need to move closer.

He'd better make sure to not touch that puddle. Aran is sure it would give him every disease known to the caves. Actually, just don't touch that guy at all.

The degrading comments make Aran pause, and then squint his blind eyes at the stranger. The AUDACITY! Aran has survived so many things! The Trial, killing the Deinocornus with Arquia! He's never been infected with the Hive's fungus! He can't quite remember everything, but that just means he's survived even MORE!

"I always survive!" He snorts in offence at the stinky owl. "Let me try!"

Aran thinks this is the most offended he's ever been in his life. He's going to prove this owl wrong.

Emuh's short, dark cackle was the sort that would send either weaker or smarter adventurers scurrying in fear. To the truly talented (and the stupid, and the brave) it was almost an invitation.

He turned, sweeping away in a cloud of rank green something. "COME, THEN! PROVE YOUR POWER."

He vanished into the darkness a moment later--and darkness it was indeed: the entire room into which he'd flown had been plunged into a pitch black. There was a strange shifting, grinding sound, and then a spotlight of sickly gray light illuminated only a small patch at the center of a large, open, stony space.

What might lay in the shadows pooled to either side was a mystery. So was what Aran was, for the moment, meant to do--aside from enter.

@Aran

The stranger moves so fast Aran almost can't tell where he's gone. The dark opening to complete blackness welcomes him, what would be a startling sight if Aran didn't become used to it at one point. The bird's eyes are useless in complete blackness, but that's okay. He has his magic to back him up.

He enters the room, moving to the section with the dark spotlight quickly. He feels some mixed version of excitement and terror, waiting for what will happen next.

The interior of the cave... shifted. The door was suddenly gone, and as Aran stood in the dimly lit circle at the center of the shadows, it would feel as though it were somehow larger. The sound of moisture dripping somewhere in the distance sounded far away, yet otherwise, all was eerily silent.

It took a long moment before a faint odor reached Aran's nostrils: that of distant, rancid rot. The decay of flesh; the foulness of disease and of infection.

An instant later, the sound of scurrying would become audible. Distant... small. Like a thousand little claws on rock, somewhere in the dark beyond Aran's light.

The sounds were getting louder.

Aran's Trial of Transcendence has begun.

@Aran

Aran pauses when he begins hearing... Things. Drippings of moisture, but otherwise nothing at first. He's not sure what to think for some moments until the scent of rot hits his nostrils again. Is it the owl? That guy smells absolutely abhorrent.

Instead, a wave of panic hits when he hears distant scuttling. What is that?

It's out of the bird's eye view - he can't see what the sounds are coming from. When it gets louder, he wonders if he will be attacked. Aran tenses his legs, planting himself firmly. I am NOT weak! He will prove himself just as he said he would.

Despite the weak cast of the spell, Aran's senses absolutely ignited his 'vision.' Dozens of creatures were crawling toward him. They were maybe fifty yards away, and they were slow: dragging themselves. Large rats? -Yes; pitch rats, judging by their shapes. And they were absolutely infested with bacteria.

They were sick.

The first reached a faint pool of light, and it became clear what he was dealing with. Clouded white eyes, rotting flesh, a stench of sickness.

They were like zombies, though Aran would probably never have heard of such stories: alive, but clad in dying flesh, their fur sloughing away. Yet... they were coming for him, their labored wheezing individually quiet but almost deafening as they drew closer, given their sheer numbers.

@Aran