Heladil, with Meraina's help prepares the injured Boldor and helps him up the stairs to meet with the others.  Upon finding the others he looks around at the Goblin bodies and at the injured man hanging from the wall.  

With a worried frown he tells them:
"Gwalchmai advised us that there is a spirit or ghost of some sort on the ground floor of the tower which is blocking our exit.  Arekhel has said that it may be linked to this tower in some fashion.  Gwalchmai has provided a rope with a grapnel which has been set up on the floor below so that we may go down and avoid this creature." With a look at Lochan he adds:
"We should be able to lower Boldor down, but will this one," he indicates the injured human, "be able to survive such a trip?"

"I'm fine. I can get down quite easily," mumbles Boldor in a foul mood. He stomps over to see what manner of things are in the chests.

Billy's professional pride would not allow him to do anything else so he joins in by taking handfuls of coinage from the chests and stuffing them in his pockets. Boldor grunts and does the same with his one good arm, but checks through what he takes and pours back most of the bronze into the coffers.

Coru stands up and says to Froin, Billy and those nearby:

"Well, looks like we're heading down again. Maybe we should just take all this with us down below, and consult the others what to do with it. Didn't Relg say that we should divide the whole lot with the surviving militia men? It is only fair." He puts the rest of the treasure strewn across the floor back into the chests, and suggests that he and Froin carry the bigger one, while someone else 
takes the smaller one. It is just about small enough for Raddish to carry so the Ambassador offers to aid them. Coru nods and after wrapping the sword in its tabard, he places it back on the top of the larger chest and, taking the dagger, places it in his belt.

Lochan calls over to Froin and between them they manage to prise the iron clasps suspending the prisoner to the wall. "I don't know what we are going to do with this one but we cannot leave him here." The man groans as they lift him off the wall and lie him upon his outer clothes.

"Who knows, but those damn Goblins could have used the torture of this man to summon the thing downstairs. If we get him out of here, maybe it will be free to go... Who knows?"

The Ranger bends over the man and checks for wounds upon his back before giving him what medical attention he can. After a few moments, the man is awake enough to mutter:
"Thank...thank you." He looks slowly around, then shivers. "Thank you all. I...thought I was donefore."

Lochan kneels beside him, channeling his anger into a secret place for the moment. He roughly grabs the cloak and throws it over the man's shoulders. "Be quiet! You are not out of trouble yet. There will be plenty of time for you to explain it all to us later. Right now we are leaving this tower, so marshall your strength. You will need it."

With that, Lochan jumps to his feet and turns swiftly away to oversee the remaining militia men in the tower, effectively ignoring the man further. Behind him, Urmahd stares at the wounds over his body then looks at the tense form of the young Ranger, striding purposefully from the room. Realisation dawns on him who this man could be. He gives a small whimper and lets his head drop to 
regard the deep lacerations to his body again. He starts to sob.

For the moment, the rest of the company ignore him and taking the now sealed chests between them, make ready to leave this haunted watchtower.

Meanwhile, down below...
 

Sealvach shouts his prayer to the Valar and swings his the Elven blade at the creature. As it passes through the flickering shape before it, the blade makes a high-pitched whine and bluish light coruscates across the metal, almost as if sparks are drawn from the blade. The Wraith howls in anguish and clutches back it's outstretched hand towards it's darkly swirling core. 

Seeing the creature back off for a moment, Sealvach shouts at Relg: "try to fend it off. We've got to buy them some time to find a way to get rid of it. Valdo, see if Arekhel can help figure out how to destroy it!"

"Got that!" Relg draws his sabre and prepares his shield. Somehow he is not sure if his weapons will do any harm to this shadowy creature so he puts his strength in defense and waits for a suitable moment to strike.

Valdo, who is just drawing his blade, turns to regard the Gambler and nods. Then, without a word he leaps sideways towards the open side of the building after the woman, but the figure of Maleg is quicker. A silent communication passes between the two men and Maleg plunges into the light after Arekhel as Valdo turns back to defend against the vengeful onslaught of the night-black 
shape before them.

The creature seems to ignore the humans and surges forward to engulf the Gambler, it's own deathly blade swinging in an arc to clash with Sealvach's weapon. The Elf ducks to avoid the flickering blade and aims his own strike at the very heart of the beast. It recoils once more, throwing off Relg's aim as the man whirls aside to avoid the deathly cold of it's unnatural life.

In fact, the seething cold that seems to emanate from it is enough to give the warriors hearts a stutter and the muscle of their legs to weaken. It is only through the deep, almost trance-like state of the consumate warrior that protects them from succumbing to the numbing power of the creature and they continue fighting.

Targon and Gwalchmai stand indecisive in the opening to the tower room, unable to approach or to aid the dance of death that is going on in the semi-darkness before them.

.....
 

Arekhel is still staggering away from the tower, as if gone completely insane with fear. However, her pace is not very steady and she steps upon a rotten stump, tries to catch her balance, fails and falls to the ground. She lays motionless for a few minutes, taking in 
deep breaths and trying to calm down. From far inside her, she tries to focus on her own old self. She just wants to forget the nightmare figure she once again has encountered. She puts her palms to her eyes, presses on them and concentrates with difficulty, muttering some old Elven chants told in ancient glades to fey children. They seem to help for after a while, she sits up, but still shaking.

It is then that she hears the hushed sounds of someone approaching from the direction of the tower and all Arekhel's momentary feelings rush back redoubled. She turns to get to her feet for escape but is not fast enough.

A figure of a man appears through the trees near to her, and Arekhel's Elven eyes widen and her fear rushes back upon her. She shrieks again and shouts at the man, even though a part of her recognises him as Maleg:
"Go away, you're just another trick of this creature!! I don't want to be doomed for Eternity! I have sinned, but I don't deserve such 
punishment! Don't touch me!!" She tries to stand up, but cannot steady herself and collapses once more, sobbing and shaking. But 
the apparition does not advance towards her.

Instead, it takes a step forwards and drops to a crouch before the Elven woman speaking in quiet and soothing tones.
"I cannot understand of what you speak Lady but I am no apparition. I am Maleg, warrior of the Gargath people and second to Relg of the Fist. My mission is to... stay near you, not to hurt you."

Arekhel's eyes focus on the man and she stops her wailing. She seems to pull herself together and mutters after a while in a low voice:
"This Wraith, we must destroy its focus!! We must or we will be all doomed, it's already after me, it recognised me, it will follow us 
until we all die!! Its focus is inside the tower, we must kill this fat crow at the top, I am sure it is a focus, or destroy all ancient items found in the tower! or the tower itself!!! We must do it!" Arekhel's voice dies away and she sobs again. Maleg can only understand a few of the words she continues muttering:
"doomed... not my fault... long time ago..."

The man is unsure how to proceed so he waits silently on his heels watching the Elven woman. As he sees that she is not going to move, he eventually mutters, perhaps a little harshly:
"Well, whatever is your doom, my Lady, you can at least face it with friends around you. We must get back and tell them what you know. I have a feeling that perhaps Relg was right, you out of all of us may be the one that can defeat this creature. Here! Take my hand. We must go now."

Arekhel raises her head to him, tears drying away from her eyes. She rubs her face with her palms, pulls her hair at the roots and shakes her head, as if to get rid of the confused thoughts that mull her mind. She takes the offered hand gently and squeezes it tight, as if to make sure it is real and not ethereal. She smiles faintly to Maleg and standing up, Arekhel speaks at last a little more coherently:
"So... sorry Maleg, I... I really thought you were another trick of this Wraith." Her voice sounds suddenly tired and Arekhel seems to have trouble thinking straight. She smiles to herself, looks around and as if acknowledging at last what Maleg said, then says 
slowly:
"So, even Relg of the Fist is keen on listening to me? Well, let me tell you that this thing there is more cunning and powerful than any of us. I have been told by some little wood creatures that the only way to get rid of this creature is by removing its focus...I mean, the thing, or the object or the living creature that is somehow tying it to this place. Something linked to the "past" of this ghost... maybe it is the tower itself..." She seems to struggle to try and explain as they move through the trees and hesitates slightly before saying: "...anyway, we shall destroy the focus!!! You will have to do this!" She screws up her eyes and says, very seriously:
"Tell that to Valdo and Relg... for me. I will not go back inside this tower. This Wraith knows me, is able to find my deepest houghts... and I don't want to be a ghost for eternity!!!"

Maleg nods, not fully understanding what the Elven woman means but assures her that certainly he will tell the others of what she speaks. As they arrive once more in the open, Gwalchmai approaches them and says:
"I'm sorry if I have been rude with you, Milady, but the situation was not an easy one! Please, we really need your help to destroy this ghost. Can't you locate the focus in the tower, by that power you have or something? If you want, I can help you to climb the 
tower using the rope hanging there, and reach the second level. Maybe there your... magical powers could find the focus?"

Gwalchmai looks at the Elven woman hopefully and it is then that they hear voices raised in combat.

Recognising the origin of Sealvach's weapon and seeing the effect it seems to have on the creature, Relg shouts:
"Sealvach, you are the only one who can hurt this creature. We will try to draw its attention and give you an opportunity to strike!" Saying so, Relg starts a feint attack, trying to give Sealvach a chance.

Leaving himself wide open to attack, Relg steps backwards as if about to fall and even to the creature's strange senses it is too good an opportunity to miss and it plunges after him, not realising that it's motion will place it near to the brighter light of the afternoon sun. Relg times the moment to an instant and rolls fully beneath the cruel blade to come to his feet behind it. The slim blade extending from the Wraith's cloaked arm passes over the demarcation between gloom and sunlight as Sealvach dives in behind it. A horrific scream rends the air as the creature's sunlit limb is seared by the blessed sun's rays. Its shadowy shroud is at once dispelled and the frail grey of the arm beneath visibly withers as its deathly blade wavers and seems to shrink. Sealvach's blade knifes into the depths of the dark form and sinks it's flickering light into the entity as another howl more anguished and fearful than the first, rebounds from the stone walls of the room. At once, the creature's mass shifts and seems to suck in upon itself like before, but this 
time it does not intend to become consolidate, but dissipates and before their very eyes, the Wraith's smoky form shreds and dissolves into the air until it is all but evaporated, leaving the room considerably brighter than a moment before.

As the fighters stand shocked and wonderous that they still stand upon the side of the living, Sealvach notices that the blade of his sword is dulled and a thin sheen of frost is condensing upon its surface. The metal clinks as if warming up from a frozen state and an almost 'magical' shiver passes through him. It's at that moment that Relg and Valdo gives a shout of warning and leaps to Sealvach's side. For as he does so, the dishevelled corpses of the two, recently deceased, militia men come to their feet and in a grotesque parody of life, they stagger towards the trio with raised weapons. Their features are dead but their lolling eyes belie a flickering madness. A madness from beyond the grave...

Coru hears the shout of his leader down below and drops his side of the chest to the wood floor. He grabs his spear and turning to Froin says:
"I...must go," and dashes for the stairs, reaching the bottom in a few short leaps. He stares at the scene, eyes wide open and watches as the militia men clash with Valdo and the Warseeker. A shout of confusion rises to his mouth but Coru bites it off as he sees the inarticulate way the bodies of the militia men move and the blank staring of their eyes, and mumbles to himself:
"What dark power has let these things loose? So it was true like the Elf woman said, the tower is indeed haunted by sorcerous evil. We surly will need all the strength Kher'Ras can spare for us."

Coru readies his throwing spear and tries to maneuver behind the figures. Then, just as he thrusts his spear forward, he cries:
" Lotar notara Kher'Ras!!!" <Feel the wrath of Kher'Ras>.

.....
 

As Lochan orders four of the militia men to guard Urmahd and bring him down to the waiting rope, Heladil and Meraina are already there and supervising the lowering of the treasure chests. Out of the corner of her eye, Meraina notices a swirl of dark shapes at the top of the tower and looks up. One of the crows she sees, leaves the rest of the flock and wheeling over the trees, flaps off heavily to the east.

Meraina points at the bird to Heladil who is slow to react, and as he draws his bow ready to fire at the retreating shape, it disappears behind the bulk of the stonework and is lost from view.