Dungeon of Solomon

[Huntress]

So many things happened so suddenly. The two royals approached the group that Anna was a part of and started causing unescesary chaos. Planning was an important part of any assault. Apparently that wasn't the case here. Clenching her jaw she tried to analyze the situation as quickly as possible. There were two bow weilders in total, although one was currently hiding in the shadows.

Watching the orc run to a large tree Anastasia agreed with the strategy Mali had. At close range this vile creature was dangerous. Running to assist the orc Anna unsheathed her blade and looked at the weapon in slight sadness, the damage this would cause to her weapon would be hard to fix.

Clenching her jaw she started hacking at the opposite side of the orc. Weakening the base would make it easier to drop. Using her full capability of strength she squinted as chunks of the tree flew off. Hearing the first groan was a good sign. Glancing over at the arrogant elf noble Anastasia snarled slightly.

"Drop with the tree and impale the damn thing!" She yelled across the field. Stepping around the thick trunk Anna planted her hands on the weakened base and began to push teeth bared. The tree began to shift but it wasn't enough. Growling she pushed harder blue-gray eyes began to swirl into a primal amber colour. Already pointed canine's lengthened more as the veins on the back of her hands began to protrude and travel up her arms.

Her strength was well above average due to her berserker bloodline, the cursed blood that flowed through her veins only made her stronger. It was rare that she would call upon what lingered within to help.

 

[Banana-senpai]

​

It wasn't Helka's eyes that opened first, but her lungs. She inhaled deeply and suddenly as if she had come out of water before her eyes opened. She was confused, shocked. She struggled to make her breathing even as she panted hard. She coughed some and saw the mysterious silvery-white woman close by. She sat up and got up in alarm so fast that she stumbled before managing to stand properly.

"What's going on?" Helka said, finding her great-sword and picking it up. "What happened?" She whirled around and wondered why she had a lapse in memory. She was in the Dungeon of Solomon, she recalled. She had walked in, singing a lullaby. She gripped her sword hard, reviewing what happened, she could not remember at all. Why did she even come in the Dungeon in the first place? She felt rather weak, sick. But seeing the woman up close, Helka knew she could be trusted. A wraith, she finally realized. Helka didn't know they were beautiful. "You rescued me, thank you." Helka nodded sheepishly after putting the pieces together in her head, a ghost of a smile on her lips. She thought wraiths had empty eyes and looked like they were made of ice. But this one had soft expression.

Her memories were all broken in certain places, and her body was weakened. Despite it all, Helka was glad to be alive. Magic just didn't work well with her. Healing spells were fine like, minor enchantments, too. That's what her youngest sister uses. But powerful spells? Helka was glad she's all in one not-so-injured piece.

 

[Assallya]

Assallya watched the fight unfold and wondered what the boy she was following was going hanging back. She pondered for several long seconds and then her black painted lips twisted up at the corners into a mischievous grin. Study the allies, learn their strengths and weaknesses. Reevaluate. If he still wanted to join these adventurers he could come in at the last moment, or if someone were particularly endangered. This would make for a more dramatic entrance and be more greatly appreciated than if one were to have been involved since the start of the battle. It was dastardly. It was something she would do. She did the same thing regularly in the political arena, coming to the aid of many a wealthy noble at parties and functions. Sometimes she'd even create rumours herself simply so she could quash them later publicly.

This conclusion caused her to pause in casting a spell of illusion. She'd considered an illusion of a group of dastardly goblins that would rush giant plant. Sure the illusory creatures wouldn't be able to harm the plant, as ephemeral creatures they hit with but a minuscule fraction of the force of a real humanoid, but the plant would have a hard time telling the illusions from the true threat of the adventurers.

A quick tap to the boy's shoulder and Assallya made several gestures. The thief's cant was a language of both hand gestures and euphemisms both for communicating silently in the shadows or talking in front of city guards without alerting them to nefarious deeds. In this case it was all hand motions, not euphemisms. First she pointed at him, then clapped her fingers to one another like a miniature mouth talking, pointed at herself and then made the theif's cant gesture for a magic user or spellcasting before pointing in the direction of the battle.

OOC: If it's any consolation. Assallya thinks nearly EVERYONE in the dungeon is stupid. Anyone choosing to partake in these games is either insane or has a death wish! She, on the other hand, didn't have a choice in the matter :)

 

[Justin]

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Bale didn't understand why everyone was so against him and the Princess. Just because they were privileged and the others were less fortunate? Maybe it was all just jealousy. If only they knew that Bale didn't start a royal, he was a thief and a outlaw before he became a Noble Savior. [/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]That was for another time. Right now Bale was just worried about beating this flower beast. Bale saw the orc attack the tree "legs" or whatever, he had the right idea.[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Bale jumped from the top of the flower and landed on a tree trunk. If they got rid of these, the flower would topple over and wouldn't be mobile anymore. While Bale was stabbing and slashing at the tree trunk, he wasn't paying attention to the tentacle. The tentacle grabbed him up. "Let go of me! You beast of the Devil's body!" [/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Bale was thrown towards a tree, he would have smacked it if he hadn't shadow jumped. This time he shadow jumped to somewhere in the dungeon he didn't know. When Bale finally stood up, the jump took a lot of energy and timing, he found himself near a a small tree. "Ruff!" [/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Bale struck his daggers forward, he had heard something or maybe someone bark. What he didn't expect was to see some dog like creature. This dog was made of...plants?! "Oh! A dog!" Bale didn't know if the dog would attack or not. The dog came closer, but in a scared and lost way.[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]It rubbed it's head against Bale's leg. "Your probably lost little guy." The dog looked up to him as if he understood Bale. "I guess I'm sorta lost now too. Come on...Greenie." Now Bale and Greenie needed to find their way back to the group...mostly to find the Princess.[/BCOLOR]​

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[Crono]

Zelth's Table
Bale was in a small room with only one exit. Beyond it lay a massive domed room. It had four tunnels branching off in each direction and a large trench circling a circular platform (the tunnels were attached by small bridge). Dark purple stone bricks made it up and were made darker by the shadows of the actual room. Unlit torches lined the walls, the darkness so thick that one could not see into the trench. The stench of decay was overpowering in this place, yet it's source was unseen.

The trunk cracked and groaned, and eventually surrendered to the force of the berserker and Malcan. "TIMBER MOTHER FUCKERS!" Mali yelled as she hopped onto the top of the falling tree. The vilebloom only had enough time to look up and have a evolutionary breakthrough. "Well shit." It muttered before being flattened.

The other heads danced around wildly before slowly falling limp. Malcan, satisfied with what he did, fell asleep standing up. He was only allowed to do this because Mali was busy approaching the dancing lady.

"And, what were you doing?" Mali asked the dancer lady, who was currently making a stupid looking flurry of hand movements, venomously. She looked her up and down, what the crap was a stripper doing in a fucking dungeon?! Mali hated strippers or 'dancers' as they call themselves, people these days had to work for their gold when all this bitch had to do was show a little skin. She suspected that she was hiding behind them and at the last minuet was going to stab them in the back. "Well? Who the fuck are you anyway?"

 

[Justin]

Oh ok lol...was just confused, thanks for that. Now I have something to right on, so he can find everyone again xD.

 

[Majem]

"It appears Mia the Wraith has slashed Helka back to the land of the living, leaving her walking this storm of monsters again. Whether or not that was a good thing remains to be seen, this is the dungeon of solomon afterall. They say there are worse things than death and this place is without a doubt one of those things.

Oh and would you look at that, ladies and gentlemen! Team kickass is actually living up to its name by fighting fire with fire, or in this case nature with nature. It's a good thing Mali can turn that dumb force called Malcan into something practical or they'd be eaten by The Vilebloom by now. But don't worry folks, there are more terrifying beasts waiting for something to eat further ahead.
Some of our contestants may have formed an alliance it seems, although Marcellus and Assallya are staying behind and talking in a secret language of hand gestures most commonly used by thieves. Are these two really to be trusted? They're just hanging back waiting for the others to clean up so they can get their hands on the beautiful price! There's always a handful of those, but they fail to realize nobody will ever make it that far." The narrator spoke and sighed before continuing. "And would Lanziver please enter the dungeon as well? Sitting idly will do you, and us, no good."

Lanziver "The Cave Dweller" Hisworth, Gnome

"Na look 't wha ye done! Ye gon' 'n wake up Twinkle!" The gnome said in response to the voice calling him out of the cage he was still sitting in. Despite everyone else having left for the dungeon already, this little guy was just resting back at the beginning, letting everyone else go ahead. With his left hand, the mage gently stroked the bat resting on his right arm which was made entirely out of stone, animated by his magic mastery over the elements though for now it was just a piece of stone hanging from his shoulder for his pet bat to rest on.
"Ah. Mite 's well na tha yer 'wake." Lanziver told Twinkle before hopping up from his seated position to his full 3ft in height. He reached for the staff leaning against the wooden wall of his cage before looking at the staircase in front of him. The steps, made for humans and others of that size, were too big for this creature. Walking down them would only be awkward and time-consuming. Instead, he slammed the ground with his staff and the staircase turned into a slide which he quickly jumped down, laughing like a child as he made his way down.

Eventually, Lanziver came to an empty corridor lit by lanterns hanging from the ceiling high above. The others had already ventured further ahead, though the gnome didn't know anything about them yet; at least there weren't any signs of fights yet.

 

[Assallya]

Assallya, was crouched down behind the rubble and around the corner letting the boy thief do the spying. She heard the massive plant creature shudder and fall, heard the cry of someone heralding its fall. She wasn't doing any hand gestures. She'd done them already and asking to be told when to enter the fight was pointless when the fight was already over. Then she was surprised to find a woman suddenly standing on the rubble and looking around the corner. Somehow she had magically sneaked up on the thief, moving in the span of a blink, approaching somehow without being seen, without the thief having a chance to react. That was most unexpected.

As a result, the sudden appearance of the green garbed warrior took Assallya completely off guard and the golden haired courtesan fell backwards onto her buttocks with a squeal of shock. She was about to crab crawl backwards when she recognized who it was. Even then, her large blue eyes were wide as if expecting the woman to attack. Her left hand raised itself slightly, ready to gesture, ready to unleash some form of enchantment.

Mouth dry, she let the thief respond, she'd been following his lead after all. Plus, it was hard to cast while talking.

 

[Jeanvieve]

Ayo
Huntress, Princess

Still hacking at the face of the giant plant beast, Ayo lost sight of Bale. She let up to try and see what happened to him. Hopefully not dead, because she was doubtful she'd gain another ally in this bunch. She dodged a tentacle and rolled right into a patch of its poisonous seedling spawn on the ground. Her side began to sear, an audible singe sound coming from her ebony skin. She screamed in pain and let up away from the patch of death.

Soon she could feel the poison coursing through her veins. It dulled her senses and made her reflexes lethargic and useless.

Desperate to remove herself from the fray, she managed to find a tiny break in the wall behind the beast. She kept inside and subsequently fell into a hole that was hidden inside. Still falling deeper into the depths, she slowly lost consciousness...

 

[Huntress]

The squeals of the plant being flattened pierced Anna's highly sensitive ears. Backing away from the tree she winced as blood began to boil and rush through her veins. Closing her eyes she clenched her jaw tightly as she fought against what dwelled within her. A snarl escaped her as she could feel it rising, it had been quite sometime since it was unleashed, it clawed to make it's way out. The slightest light of possible freedom excited it.

There was a sharp stab of pain in her gut, clutching the leather she wore Anastasia growled lowly to herself. The pain rippled up her spine as bones shifted. Moaning slightly she fell to her knees. Fingers clenched into fists, nails digging into the dirt below. Her eyes practically glowed a bright animalistic amber. The snarl remained on her face as the sound that escaped her could have easily come from an animal.

Her right shoulder jerked up with a sickening crack. Bringing her arm back down she gritted her teeth and groaned. She was not going to allow this to happen. Taking a deep breath she exhaled sharply through her nostrils. Growling to herself she stood up with a struggle, grabbing the nearest tree her grip tightened as the bark crunched under her grasp.

Opening her eyes she gazed into the dense forested area that stood ahead of her. Her torso was rising and falling with each deep breath. Her mouth had grown dry swallowing passed it she licked her lips as her eyes began to return to their natural colour.

Shaking her head she couldn't deny the fact that she did enjoy letting go, allowing herself to roam free with such raw, primal power. Unleashing what lingered so close to the surface. The taste of blood was always, ever so sweet.

Clenching her jaw Anastasia turned her head to the left as she glanced over her shoulder. Another exhale escaped her as she turned around, her heart rate slowing as her body calmed down.

 

[Penelope Sky]

Marcellus Mossmire
Quarter-Elf, Thief/Archer
​

A flurry of action.

Too many things had happened so suddenly, all at once, for Marcellus to determine what was real and what was not. Watching from the shadows, and listening to the commotion in the formerly rubble strewn chamber, he had quickly determined that the flower monster was defeated - Team Kickass had effectively dispatched that one, and, even Marcellus couldn't deny, in a clever manner at that. Knocking that tree down... even he thought it was a smart play. In his days (as in, two months) of battle, Marcellus and his adventuring partner enjoyed pulling schemes such as that one to not only stray a pack of hungry wolves, but send a giant to its knees, or even teach a dragon a thing or two. It wasn't as if he was the one doing most of the fighting, of course, but he was there when it counted.

He wondered for a moment, where that part of him had been lost. Was it when she passed on, or was it when he let her down the first time? Or was it somewhere in between?

Marcellus had died inside too many times to decide fully which parts of him went, and which parts of him were created to compensate for those missing spaces. What he really needed to focus on was self preservation, and although he wasn't quick enough to respond to the dancer girl's hand gestures - the creature had been eliminated too immediately after the symbols began, not to mention that it had been so long since he'd last needed to use them - he figured he would have another chance to ally with her later. If, of course, that was the lady's intention.

Taking advantage of this, Marcellus figured he would use his remaining knowledge of thief signs to tell her to stay close as he ventured deeper into the chamber. He wasn't exactly sure how to symbolize that perfectly - the last time he'd done any sort of thieving in a group was when he was around 17 - but, glancing at the girl, and observing her quick wit and guile in a set of bright blue eyes, he reasoned that she'd be able to figure it out.

But, in doing this, he swiftly realized that he had, all in all, let his guard down completely. He supposed it had come with being so out of practice.

The elf girl - the other half of Team Kickass - had approached, and quite easily, she had walked past Marcellus without a single glance.

Nice work, stealth master, the archer berated himself.

Swiftly, however, he did his best to assess the situation as the girl, who he believed was named Millie or close to it, began firing questions at the dancer, who he had not even the slightest name for yet. She was demanding - the elf - and certainly not skimping when it came to the foul language, although it wasn't as if Marcellus had never heard - or used - such demeaning words before, and the dancer, although she seemed quite conniving, had been startled just as easily as him. She looked to be, however, with an open palm raised and a look of intent in those same blue eyes, ready to cast magic at the assertive elf, but Marcellus knew almost immediately that the game of talking fell like a burdon onto him.

He placed a firm hand on the hilt of his dagger, and stared at the elf with what he believed to be an intimidating eye. However, looking young for his 21 years, he hardly did that.

"We were creating a plan of battle for the creature," said the thief, firmly. "The girl was scared and wanted my help, but I refused to attack without a strategy in place." He noticed the elf was standing too close to him for comfort, so he backed up a step, and continued his intentful gaze. "Obviously, you and your friend there have taken care of the monster already - which we thank you for." Marcellus nodded quickly to reinforce his statement, and his amber eyes shifted intensely to the dancer, prompting her to nod as well. "There's no need to question her, when she's so obviously just a girl."

It wasn't a statement that he actually meant - nor knew the validity of - but he figured it would make her appear to be at least slightly more innocuous, temporarily taking a target off her back for contenders for the orb - why fight a defenseless girl who could easily be manipulated, when there were true challengers afoot? Marcellus prided himself in the reasoning behind it.

"But if you must, however, it would be appropriate if you told her who the fuck you might be, just to level things out."

Normally, he would have smiled at the end of such a statement, but realizing that it would cause his dimples to show, he figured it would make him look much less intimidating than he was trying to be. For now, it would work, and Marcellus praised himself for at least being able to retain some of his speech craft skills.

Talking... now, that, was his favorite game.

((Sorry for the late reply there, people. Gone for only a day, and I've missed half the storyline! Haha. And sorry, @Crono XP Marcellus thinks poorly of most people - it's just apart of his cynicism. OOC, though...Team Kickass kicks ass =P))





​

 

[LunarLavendula]

(OOC up!)

Mia was kneeling next to the girl when she took in her first breathe of life. The wraith was flickering in and out of this world like a shimmering silver light, watching the girl's life from both sides to see what would happen.

Oh happy day, she was alive! Mia clapped her hands together, exuberant. She'd seen people do that before and was very proud of remembering the gesture.

"A Siphon was going to eat you. I don't blame him, you are probably most delicious compared to the monsters in this dungeon." Mia replied enthusiastically, pulling a face as she remembered the taste of the souls of those wolf-like creatures. Not that you could really call it a soul at all. They were viscous things, tasting of dark magic.

Then the girl was grabbing her great-sword and Mia scampered away from her, her eyes warily watching the blade. Oh, how terribly unfortunate it would be if she died to the girl she had saved! No doubt the Narrator would find it hilarious.

Speaking of the Narrator, his commentary was booming through the Dungeon, and Mia glanced ceiling-ward as he spoke of the other adventurer's progress.

"Team kickass is actually living up to its name by fighting fire with fire, or in this case nature with nature."

Mia smiled. She liked those two, although really, really didn't want to face them at the end of the Dungeon. Actually, she'd rather not fight anyone, but no doubt some of the others had no such qualms.

"And would Lanziver please enter the dungeon as well? Sitting idly will do you, and us, no good."
And another contestant! Her eyes lit up. The Wraith wondered what sort of creature could act so nonchalant in this Dungeon of monsters – perhaps a giant, or a full orc, or a wizened old wizard filled with knowledge and power who could afford to be so blaze'.
And then…

"Princess Ayo has disappeared from the fray! It looks like she's lost consciousness! A dangerous thing in these depths. Will she survive? Only time will tell!"

Mia winced, looking back to the adventurer she was with and glad that they hadn't befallen such a fate. It was at that moment she decided on a new battle plan: Don't die or fall unconscious. It was very much like the old battleplan, only with a new amendment.

"You rescued me, thank you."

A thankyou! Mia had never received a thank you before. This was her first Thankyou, and she would treasure it always. Humans could be as good-hearted as they were cruel. She jumped up onto her feet.

"Thankyou! Thankyou for living. I am very glad that you did. I would very much enjoy not dying in this dungeon, would you perhaps like to join me in said venture?"she replied, words rolling off her tongue into sentences, into conversation, and she wondered if she would get to have many more conversations during her time in this dungeon. She really hoped so.

Wait! Wait, she had forgotten a very important part in the conversation-making process. "My name is Mia, what's yours?"

•

Deeper in the dungeon, something began to stir...​

 

[Majem]

Lanziver "The Cave Dweller" Hisworth

Lanziver came to a T-junction where he had the choice between three corridors, though one of them had an aged gate keeping some sort of canines in, though not for much longer. The ravenous beasts kept banging against the iron with no regard for their own well-being. They were already bleeding and the front one had been crushed to death between the gate and his packmates. It didn't look like these creatures had much more fight in them, though the gate looked like it was about to give in as well.
"Ach, not'n bu' trouble." Lanziver muttered to himself, shaking his head lightly. The wizard knelt down to place his left hand on the ground and two seconds later part of the corridor imploded, crushing all the vile creatures behind the gate before it returned back to normal. The wizard wasn't done there, for he didn't know which way the others had gone. With his hand still on the floor he examined the vibrations in the ground which told him what was were, and he concluded that the group had split up with everyone save for two headed the exact opposite direction of the corridor this gate had closed down. The old gnome began stroking his moustache as he tried to think it over.

"Ah! Bu' first." Lanziver exclaimed before reaching into his pocket and retrieving a small orb. As he held the orb in front of him, it began to light up and revealed the face of an old man inside, presumably another wizard.
"How's eryting shown' on yer end?" The gnome asked the man inside his sphere. "Everything's going exactly as predicted. Nothing to worry old friend." The human wizard responded. Lanziver nodded and put the orb into his pockets again. Now to decide. On one hand, the larger party was more likely to get further though the chances of chaos and betrayal were also higher. But maybe the two were simply trapped behind the gate, forced to go the path they had chosen without help from the others. It was also the path the wraith had gone down.

"Com' on, Twinkle. Shov' over." Lanziver said, getting a small screech from his pet in protest as its bed began to move. His right arm became animated and grabbed a bar of the metal gate. Shortly thereafter the gate began to glow red hot, though it wasn't hot enough to melt rock yet so Lanziver's arm was spared. Instead of waiting for the gate to melt, the wizard pulled the now malleable iron aside to make an opening. Once large enough for him to walk through the wizard took a step back and cast another spell, cooling the metal down again so he wouldn't hurt himself as he walked through. With his staff, the wizard pushed the crushed corpses of whatever these creatures were aside so he could continue forward.

Perhaps it was the canines he had just slain, but this corridor definitely reeked of death, decay and rot. Yet as a gnome, Lanziver has spent a lot of time inside of caves and is used to things smelling a little foul, especially in places where air circulation is little. He could create a gust of wind to blow some fresh air into the corridor, but that could lead to all sorts of events happening so instead the gnome silently kept walking. Silently, until he spoke again that is.
"Mia! Helka! Me name is Lanziver and I am a gnome. Do not be startled, bu' I am approachin' ye now." Lanziver called out, trying to sound a bit more understandable by limiting his accent. He recalled their names from when the announcer announced them. Introducing himself would certainly make himself seem friendly. He had to be careful, while his own intentions were peaceful, he couldn't know how the others would react though he figured everyone was smart enough to know teamwork was key here.

 

[Huntress]

With her little episode going unnoticed Anna let out a sound of relief. There were some conflicts amongst other contenders but nothing directly involved her. Carrying on ahead she glanced over her shoulder briefly. There was a split in the pathway for a second time, the decision was between two pathways, one seemed to lead to a higher path while the other led to some sort of bog or marsh. Not liking the odds for either pathway she chose the marsh. Moving ahead she heard rustling in the trees. Senses grew alert, her body tense. Glancing behind her she watched as the plants began to grow over the path she chose. Baring her teeth the red head snarled. Now she was alone, cursing to herself the woman continued forward. That plant beast had been quite the foe, what would she have to face next?

 

[Crono]

"Hmf. Fine. Mali, that's Malcan." Mali threw a thumb at her companion, who was looking around the room in a confused way. "And you are?" Before they had a chance to answer she suddenly realized what Malcan was looking for. "Hey, where did everybody go?" It was just her, Malcan, the stripper, and the guy who defended her. Fan-fucking-tastic.

Malcan was wondering if aliens had abducted the others when a familiar smell caught his nostrils. The smell of gold. He got up and ran to the exit of the room, following his nose.

"Hey moron where you going?" Mali yelled at Malcan angrily. Sighing she put away her bow and extended a hand to help the stripper up. "Looks like we're stuck together. Might as well make sure we don't lose the meat shield."

 

[Assallya]

The elven courtesan opened her mouth, was about to utter several soft words of introduction when she was tersely ignored. The mercenary girl just turned and wandered off, looking for her companion and those who were engaged in battle. She didn't know whether to be pleased she had been so easily overlooked or be upset that she'd been trivialized. At least a moment's consideration would have been nice.

She looked towards the boy thief and saw no further need for stealth or caution. The monster had been toppled, felled most capriciously and with far too much enthusiasm for her taste.

"Well," she said to him, establishing a conversation, "That was most unexpected. That plant creature was felled with minimal effort. I don't know why they didn't simply slip past. It was a rooted plant after all. Why bother fighting against something that cannot pursue you?"

She then extended her small slender hand, beckoning that he follow as she stepped out to examine the carcass. Her buttocks flexed, the shapely cheeks clearly visible through the translucent silk as she stepped over a fallen vine the size of a tree trunk. It was a shame she didn't have access to a laboratory or even a mortar and pestle. Without it she couldn't harvest poisons which would be of value to her comrades.

 

[Damien Kriez]

Little Bartholomew, Son of Browning

Blackberry, the Family Horse​

Solomon's Dungeon held many a story within its blackened halls. People and creatures galore, from all walks of life, congregate before its stony gates to shout their hosannas to various seekers of fame and fortune, knowing not of the dangers that wait within. The tales' beginnings are diverse indeed but alas, Solomon's Dungeon had a way of writing them all to tragedy. Death and time were the only entities within the labyrinth that knew the taste of perpetuity, taking life after life after life. The dangers were numerous; from vicious beasts and ravenous monsters that fed on flesh and wasted not even a single drop of an adventurer's blood, to dormant traps waiting to be triggered. From envenomed darts shot from the smallest blowhole hiding within the smallest crevice, to spouts of flame waiting to cinder flesh and hair. From crumbling floors and pike pits, to a gigantic boulder that rolled across an entire hallway. Truly, the quest to find the orb within the dungeon was a task neither for the meek nor faint of heart.

It was a shocker then, that a young boy of no less than nine, entered the darkness. "Bartholomew, Son of Browning, has entered the Dungeon-wait, the dungeon is not a place for kids! Young man, come ba- Oh well ladies and gentlemen. The entertainment has become a lot more fun, or unwatchable - depending on your points of view! Regardless, the show must go on!" The narrator declared, a second too late as the slab slammed down before the child. Atop his putrid, rotting horse, the sounds of naught but a skeletal gallop filled the open air. The shadows and the thickness of the air, the faint smell of blood - it all reminded little Bartholomew about father's laboratory. The boy had played there once, after a session of daddy's work. Bart always idolised his father; he was a great magician, the boy always thought to himself. Who in all the land could cure a person from muteness? Bart remembered vividly - although it was strange that the only sound their mother could make was the sound of first letter of the alphabet, and she did so irritatingly loud. She had sleep problems, and father promised he'd look inside her, like the good doctor he was. And, just as he promised, cured her of her insomnia. He smiled, knowing that his mother slept soundly in her special bed. The boy took a strong whiff of the open air and, no matter how dank the smell is, reminded him of home. With a gentle pat and stroke of Blackberry's fly-riddle mane, he exclaimed "I miss father, don't you, Blackberry? I am very well pleased with his work; waking you up and all. I wish to be like him." He said nonchalantly. His tone was more than enough to send shivers down the audience's spines.

A freshly strewn path of death was before him as he had taken a path none of the previous ones had took. The dead man was no problem for little Bart - stepping down and breathing life into the corpse. Father taught him well. The body of this unnamed adventurer rose. This adventurer, in spite of the dry blood and flakes crumbling, was already in its decaying stage. It was perfect - with its black and blue skin, its evident deflation, and the maggots that have called this body their home. The magic that Bart's father had taught him was quite dark indeed, but in the child's eyes, it was a blessing. Being a child, one that is naive and ignorantly innocent, he believed Necromancy to be naught but a way for him to make fleshy playthings. Or in the current situation, a sort of guide to the dungeon. This was somewhat considered as cheating, but it was okay; Bart was always known to playfully cheat in his childhood games. One time, he and his friends played a special version of hide and seek, wherein a team of seekers would try to find a team of hiders. He was in the latter team, and they won because Bartholomew hid one of his friends underground. It's been almost a month now, and even the parents have started playing hide and seek to find little Timothy. Bartholomew got bored of playing hide and seek, and that is why he is here now.

Moments later, and the boy was still lost. He's now being accompanied by a skeletal few, four in total. They were as unreliable as the living, leading Bartholomew to various booby-trapped rooms. It was fortunate of him that his friends took all of the force. Necromancy was truly a gift. People should learn it. It wasn't until the smell of something other than blood and dampness went into Bartholomew's nose - the smell of guano and the smell of chin sweat dripping from a long and ruffled beard. "Joy! Another friend, Blackberry! Hurry, we must go!" He kicked the undead horse's bosom and it galloped swiftly to Lanziver, who was alone at that time. "Hello, hair boy my name is Bartholomew, you can call me Bart! I have a pet horse, her name is Blackberry, what is your bat's name?" Bart, who obviously had no social skills whatsoever, uttered. It may be his youth, or his innocence, or both, but he didn't give a hoot and chose not to acknowledge the fact that his steed as a rotting undead horse and that four skeletons followed him. "Uhm... these are my other friends I don't know their names, they're gonna sleep again in about three minutes?" Truly, the boy's speech was fast, leaving Lanziver little to no time to even respond to Bart's many childish questions.​

 

[Majem]

Lanziver "The Cave Dweller" Hisworth

While he had hoped to hear a response, Lanziver didn't expect to hear one coming from behind him. Slightly startled, the gnome turned around to look at whoever had approached him, only to be startled even more! An undead horse was standing before him with a child sitting atop. The child spoke, and he spoke fast, leaving Lanziver little time to react to any of the things he just saw. Animated skeletons? What were they doing here? No, more importantly, what was this child doing inside of this dungeon of unspeakable horror? Lanziver was flabbergasted and had to pause for a moment to take it all in.
"By Mercrow's beard." The gnome whispered under his breath, finally having realised what this boy was. A necromancer, and a powerful one at that, but how? And why? He seemed friendly enough, something you don't often see in wizards who deal with such grim magics, but then, you don't often see children casting any notable spells either. "Child. What are yeh doing here?" Lanziver asked concerned. Adults coming here to waste their life was one thing, but this child shouldn't be here, couldn't be here! Had the organisers of this cursed competition no hint of dignity to let a child enter the dungeon regardless of potent wizardry or not. This was unacceptable and Lanziver would seek to it that the boy was returned home.

Walking past 'blackberry' and tugging her head with him, Lanziver went back the way he came. "Come on, boy. We're taking yeh home. This place is not a place fer children, not even adults should be here." He told the kid, deadset on bringing him out of here.

 

[Banana-senpai]

The silver lady seemed to be...flickering. Helka rubbed her eyes on her left wrist, wondering if having been technically dead for a moment damaged her sight. An experienced traveller she may be, but she was soft and easily trusting. Her guard was down pretty fast, understanding the kindness in her savior's being.

"Thankyou! Thankyou for living. I am very glad that you did."

Helka raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Thank you for living?", she repeated, unsure of how to react.

"I would very much enjoy not dying in this dungeon, would you perhaps like to join me in said venture?"

Helka laughed heartily, something she didn't expect to happen in the Dungeon. "Not dying?" she chuckled as she subconsciously flipped her braided hair. She never expected things to turn out like this and she was happy that the Wraith is nicer that it seemed. "Sure. Let's go together."

Together? What about the orb? I'll cross that bridge when I get there. Perhaps this woman might need it more. Perhaps she should let her mother go...

Mia introduced herself just as when Helka noticed that names weren't given. "I am called Helka Storm-Walker. But Helka should do." She put her hand to her heart as is tradition in the north to mean that they met in good grace. She was far from the north but the north would never be far from her heart.

There was an unearthly screech ahead of them and Helka automatically looked to that direction. She skilfully swung her great-sword in position, walking little ahead of Mia. "Come, let's not die in that direction." She lead the way down the path. Not even five steps away, Helka sensed a strange presence. The moment she saw the abomination, she yelled to Mia, "Get back!" and tried to get them both away from the jet of poisonous goo that shot from a carriage-sized blue spider-like creature. Helka balked for a second but charged the way she knew. She avoided its goo-covered pincers and sliced one of its legs in an effort to weaken it, but it shot another jet of poison, narrowly missing Helka.

 

[Huntress]

Surprisingly nothing had appeared or attempted to attack the red head. Of course the woman felt uneasy in the eerily silent forest. There was nothing more than the occasional rustle and creak of the leaves and branches. Anna did wonder what sort of magic was used to maintain such a vast and surprisingly thriving forest, alive. It wasn't right, yet part of her felt at home.

Carrying on forward, for the first time since she had taken this path Anastasia heard something, the snap of a twig. Her body tensed as she secretly grew excited. Her eyes turned towards the direction of the sound, the skittering had the woman reaching for her weapon. Watching the small squirrell like rodent skitter across the beaten path she was on, the woman exhaled with relief and relaxed some.

It didn't take long for something else to follow. An odd misshapen, canine-esque creature came through the brush. It's focus had been on the rodent before it lifted it's head to sniff the air. An odd sound of intrigue and frustration escaped the thing that looked like a fox.

Turning to face Anna the woman got into a defensive stance as she took a step back, her hand gripping the hilt of her sword. The disfigured fox-like creature moved forward. The red-head had a look of disgust as she took on the full appearance of the creature.

This thing muse have been the product of some magical or alchemical experiment gone wrong. Matted dark brown fur covered most areas of its body. Any exposed skin was the colour of human flesh, it's hands and feet were some sort of in-between phase of human hands and canine paws. Some extremities were longer and boney, while others were almost paws. All its fingers ended in claws. The ones that looked human had cracked fingernails, the sleek claws forcefully making their way through. The eyes were human and pained, a deep brown that once could've been trusted.

It approached the red head with a low growl. Stopping halfway it whimpered as it's head shot to the side, it seemed like there was some sort of internal struggle, something Anna was familiar with. The creature whipped it's head back towards Anna and snarled. Leaping forward the woman barely had enough time to draw her weapon.

There was a loud yowl that echoed through the forest. Anna had stumbled back from the sudden attack, the creature practically impaling itself onto her weapon. In that final moment of life Anastasia noticed a glimmer of relief and thanks in the creature's eyes.

Shoving the corpse off her the berserker stood and withdrew her weapon from the beast's gut. Familiar sounds crept into her ears as her eyes caught up with what she was seeing. The corpse was shifting. Sheathing her weapon she turned away, once the sounds were over she looked down at the corpse of a man. Clenching her jaw she turned away and carried on down her chosen path.

This wasn't the time or place to linger on emotions. It would get her nowhere. She had to carry on. She was here for a reason.