Tyrael lingered beside the car for several long moments after Malthael had swept past him. He did not question the statement that the angel had unearthed what he could from the bodies present, but to leave them as they were seemed in poor taste (even if they, thankfully, were not left in great piles or stacks as had been case in Westmarch or in areas where the Evils had wandered). Besides, what if the ones left in these strange metal containers were to rise? They could prove to be a threat to the scant few living beings Tyrael had seen flitting through the graveyard.
Eventually, however, he did draw himself away from the macabre display to follow after Malthael. Although the bodies looked as they had been obviously displaced from the opened crypts, there was little that Tyrael could do for them aside from burn them (something he wasn't particularly keen on doing at the moment even if that could possibly insure that they would not rise again). For now, until the mysteries of this strange graveyard had been unravelled and the currently animated dead returned to the ground, the bodies left out of their proper graves would have to wait.
When Tyrael did catch up with the former archangel of Wisdom it was just in time to witness him vanish into the confines of one of the opened mausoleums. Surprisingly, it did not appear that the angel had stepped through a portal - there was no ripple or distortion to the air, merely his disappearance from Tyrael's line of sight.
A few ground-eating strides brought Tyrael to the entrance of the crypt where, once again, he felt the earth tremble beneath his feet, rumbling in a rhythmic pattern as if something heavy was hurtling by. And, without so much as a backward glance towards the rest of the graveyard, he stepped through the entryway and into the crypt that was not a crypt.
Almost immediately, the change in lighting and scenery within the confines of the burial chamber set Tyrael back. It was far brighter in here than it had been in the deepening dusk of the graveyard and the architecture was something altogether alien. Stranger still, were the great glass panes lining either wall to his left and right - an oddly vibrating landscape that flew past as though he were riding in some sort of carriage. This, combined with the sudden perfume in the air (something far better than rotting corpses) and the movement of the ground beneath him, had his mortal senses reeling.
With a hand pressed against one wall to ensure his continued balance, Tyrael looked to his once-brother before glancing back over one shoulder, "There is no portal."
Was this an illusion then? El'druin could cut away at seals and other demonic magics, but this... illusion was questionable - it didn't seem inherently malevolent, simply perplexing. How and why was it tied to the bodies outside? To what end was this made?
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Eventually, however, he did draw himself away from the macabre display to follow after Malthael. Although the bodies looked as they had been obviously displaced from the opened crypts, there was little that Tyrael could do for them aside from burn them (something he wasn't particularly keen on doing at the moment even if that could possibly insure that they would not rise again). For now, until the mysteries of this strange graveyard had been unravelled and the currently animated dead returned to the ground, the bodies left out of their proper graves would have to wait.
When Tyrael did catch up with the former archangel of Wisdom it was just in time to witness him vanish into the confines of one of the opened mausoleums. Surprisingly, it did not appear that the angel had stepped through a portal - there was no ripple or distortion to the air, merely his disappearance from Tyrael's line of sight.
A few ground-eating strides brought Tyrael to the entrance of the crypt where, once again, he felt the earth tremble beneath his feet, rumbling in a rhythmic pattern as if something heavy was hurtling by. And, without so much as a backward glance towards the rest of the graveyard, he stepped through the entryway and into the crypt that was not a crypt.
Almost immediately, the change in lighting and scenery within the confines of the burial chamber set Tyrael back. It was far brighter in here than it had been in the deepening dusk of the graveyard and the architecture was something altogether alien. Stranger still, were the great glass panes lining either wall to his left and right - an oddly vibrating landscape that flew past as though he were riding in some sort of carriage. This, combined with the sudden perfume in the air (something far better than rotting corpses) and the movement of the ground beneath him, had his mortal senses reeling.
With a hand pressed against one wall to ensure his continued balance, Tyrael looked to his once-brother before glancing back over one shoulder, "There is no portal."
Was this an illusion then? El'druin could cut away at seals and other demonic magics, but this... illusion was questionable - it didn't seem inherently malevolent, simply perplexing. How and why was it tied to the bodies outside? To what end was this made?