Maria's stomach roils at the sight of the room, but the monk isn't so weak as to be scared away by a bit of nastiness. She's<em>very</em>glad that Lissu didn't come with her for this, though... the poor mage had seen enough with the snake-head, and this would probably have put her over the edge.<br/><br/>Of course, just because she's able to resist the urge to vomit doesn't mean she<em>wants</em>to spend a lot of time here... so she doesn't touch<em>anything</em>, and focuses instead on gathering the hard facts. An elven hand, and a charred map with locations of the stones. A dagger, a dead cleric, and an abyssal ritual. In a nutshell, all the ingredients needed to make sure that her hunt for the shards is as chaotic as humanly possible...<br/><br/>"Gods dammit..." With a frustrated grunt, the monk delivers her own flaming kick to the burnt map, more out of frustration than anything else, and turns to leave. Smarter minds than hers might be able to piece together what happened here, but she wasn't about to drag Lissu even deeper into this than she already has...<br/><br/><hr/><br/>Once she gets outside, the weary monk looks to the sky to try and get a handle on the night. It's been a long day, and all she really wants is to curl up with a warm body next to her and get some... sleep. But if the night is young enough, it might behoove her to try and seek out the faerie glade, and ask them if<em>they've</em>come across any tiny stones. She does owe the faeries a story, if her memory serves.