Sumunguru making his way from the scene of contest, soon passed other eerie ones. These were either sitting with arms folded staring blankly into the shadows, or a few moments later, walking in harness of war, eyes not seeing the Leopard amongst them. Sumunguru though aware his own existence had magic woven through it, still grimaced at seeing its results on mortals. Up another stair, down a hall to its right. Two other eerie ones sitting on both sides of an arched doorway. Swords rested on their knees. A light seemed to gleam in both men's eyes as it had in the trio he fought. They turned their head in unison towards him. Before they arose, a charging Sumunguru took the head of the first. The second shouted, " Wotan hear me!" and launched his own attack. The clang of rival wielded metal, the grunts of the opponents, and the patter of their feet on the floor the only sound. Then with a, "Thank you great one, Valhalla calls me at last," the second guard fell face down on the floor. Sumunguru's sword had no blood on it. A red sand poured from the wound. Sumunguru grimaced at the sight. After taking that one's head and his fellows as a precaution, Sumunguru entered the room. It smelled like a croc haunted bog. In the sparsely furnished room Sumunguru made out the large bed, a spider haze of veils about it. As he neared it he heard the sound of raspy breathing and muttering. " Close, so close, still on a cliff edge, a cliff edge."