The echoeing raspy din of a horn rattled throughout the caverns, and then answered by many more from all directions. "Shite!! I thought we left our path clean of the living." said Gerlad with a noticable amount of anger and irritation in his voice. "If they want to blow a horn they should atleast blow a good one."<br/><br/>Gerald reached down to his waist and pulled a seemingly ordinary pouch from his belt, but ordinary it was not. It was an oddity that he had found in his travels that turned out to be very useful indeed, it was a void pouch. Magically stitched into this pouch was an alternation space empty, void, and endless. He could store any number of things in it so long as it fit in the mouth of the pouch itself. From here he pulled his own horn, hand-crafted himself from the horns of the Ograint he slew many decades ago before he wa even gifted his fine spear. "Now to teach them what a real horn sounds like." With a deep breath Gerald brought the horn to his lips and blew through the horn, the sound escaping its cavernous mouth sounded of rolling thunder and the trumpets of heaven, all who hear it find an energy they didn't know they had. Once it was blown in the city and the sick and bed ridden sat up with a new found strength. On the battlefield armies have frozen in place just by its sound. No trace of magic can be found on it, its sound is pure and strong and natural.<br/><br/>Expending his breath Gerald brings down the horn and slips it back into his pouch which he then reties to his belt. Hefting his spear he turns to Koreshian and says, "Let us find our treasure and be done with this place, and may our path be crimson for a millenia after our passing."