Dungeon of Solomon

[BaskinJR]

Verdé rifled through his pockets and withdrew his only healing salve. He took a generous swig and relief coursed through him and he shivered in gratification, glad to be free of the pain.
He knelt over the satyrfiend and spoke a few hushed, inaudible words, then kissed it on its horrible forehead and stood.

"Bleurgh! Got something you wanna tell us, Mr. Janitor?"

Verdé, unperturbed, gestured to the arch. "We need to continue. That's the only exit I can see." He began to haul himself over rocks toward the ornate doorway.

 

[Boo Girlie BoomBoom]

[fieldbox= Ms. Polanitia LaFontaine DeFuego, #9999ff]

In all honesty, Polly was rather relieved that the satyr-fiend attacked the Wolf. It was not so much the fact that she wished ill of the Wolf, for it was probably just hungry afterall. But it was a relief that she did not have to fight such a thing. Big muscles. Bigger teeth. Scary.

As the body of the cyclop-ish thing flew at her, she revealed her true fighting capabilities. Down she went, wings growing in size, arms reaching out to scoop up the poor, poor pretty-pretty on the floor. Her leather wings enveloped the both of them and they lay there like a tough-hided demonic cocoon lit up in fiery gold.
That was Ms. Polanitia's fighting technique. She was a protector and healer afterall.

From her Angelic Mother, she was given the gift of golden flame; the one and the same that lit the blade and aegis of the Lost ArchAngel. But Polly could be said to be without the furious blade of the righteous. But then again, she could be said to be gifted with the unbreakable aegis of the heavenly. And as such, not only did her fire burn the Wicked Enemies and heal Blessed Allies, but it also fortified her wings like a pair of adaptive and malleable shields.

And so there they lay, protected by her fiery angelically powered demon wings. Her horns still flickered with golden fire, and as close and as intimately she held Assallya, the fire did not burn the elf. No, instead, it healed her wounds that much quicker given the power of the elfin beauty's healing ring.

"Orale, Pretty-Pretty..." softly she brushed her rosy cheek up against the other female's pale one as she whispered heated breath into her pointed ear, "...amiga, I told you you will be okay, okay? Okay..."

She could hear the growl of the immense She-Wolf as it leapt over top before bounding away after it's target. Several more voices and sounds she could hear: yelling, swearing, screaming, screeching, fighting and finally dying. Polly's face scrunched up in an inordinate amount of anguish and she could not help but let out a yelp of pain. No matter how many countless times she witnessed it, death was always tumultuous and trying for her. She did not even need to see it, no, but if she was near enough, she could feel the escaping of what many may know as a 'soul' or 'life-force' from the mortal form as if she was the dying being herself.

It was part and parcel of being child of Light and Dark; she could feel in which possible direction the soul would travel.

Sweat beaded off her upper lip and brow, breathing heavy and ragged as she tried to calm herself. "I... I a-am okay, okay?" she sobbed softly, "I am okay, amiga. You are okay? Okay..."

Golden fire extinguished from her body and leathery wings unfolded like a flower after a fresh rain, revealing the two within. Polly rolled to a kneeling position and patted Assallya's chest and her own half-hearted chest continuing her attempts to calm herself.

<~~<>~~>​

Once again she noted the presence of eyes upon her. Oh, but when she saw the perverted look of the mixed-blood orc face, bulging eyes lapping up her barely covered assets, instantaneously her wings wrapped herself up like protective anti-perv robes.

"Eww...! Away, Senior Perro Pervertido...! Eww!" she turned her button nose upward in distaste as both her clawed hands made shooing motions, "You go play with big Wolf, okay? And pull tail. You win big surprise, por supuesto... "

Then the human companion of Mr. Pervert sauntered over and seemingly threatened death upon her. But
why? Polly was good. Perhaps she could show her good faith by healing her!

Polly took the hand of the ranger and as she rose to her feet, her wings gently slid from her body like fine silk falling away. A gentle kiss she planted on the given hand.

"Encantada, Senorita Mali," a coy smirk and sly wink she tossed the human woman, "I am called Ms. Polanitia LaFontaine DeFuego. But you may call me 'Polly.' Easier on the tongue, no...?"

A deep breath she took, silvery eyes narrowed, and as the Half-Demon exhaled she slinked her way up close to Mali's bruised and cut face. A fingertip caressed the air near the ranger's cheek. "Oooohhh, there no need to fight, mi linda... Polly is goooooood... oh! But are you hurt...? You need healing...? I can help pero..."

"I need to 'taste' your ailments first..." a soft giggle, a slight tilt of the head, a heavy lidded stare, tail brushing up against a leg like an affectionate pussy-cat, "What you say, mi linda? You liiiiike...? So then just slip off--"

The grating voice of the Narrator sliced up her flow. Polly let out a heavy sigh, shoulders and chest heaving up and down, silvery eyes rolling. Buzzkill.

As she shook her head, the old man-- Janitor? What? –piped up and suggested they continue on. Silvery eyes swept about regarding the responses of the others. Golden locks swished back and forth as she shook her head with her own response. Polly knelt down at the elfin woman's side.

"I will wait here with my Pretty-Pretty till she rouses," she gently wiped away errant strands of blonde from Assallya's face then proceeded to gently stroke her forehead.

"OOOOOooohh!!! Well how about that, folks?!" screeched out the Narrator's voice, setting Polly to once again cringe in response, "She just wants to stroke her Pretty-Pretty until she's aroused! Now that's what I call a friend!"
Golden brown eyebrows knit together into a scowl over downcast silvery eyes. She did not have a clear goal in this Dungeon. Other than to survive, she had no idea what she would do if and when she escaped such a place.

In the distance she could hear the crowd jeer her and laugh at her expense.

"I am okay, okay...?" she whispered, silvery eyes beginning darken as a plan started like kindling in her mind, "Okay."

​

[/fieldbox]

​

 

[BaskinJR]

Verdé nodded toward Polly. "I understand." He paused. "I mean no disrespect, but I did not know of succubi being benevolent to mortals, begging your pardon. You enthralled her, but it was an unfortunate side effect, correct?" He turned back to the arch. "Stay if you wish."

Verdé stood, awaiting the others to follow him to the arch and as he did he stared down at the harrowing, prone figure of the dead Satyrfiend. How in blazes one had got into a dungeon... Verdé was not sure, perhaps it had been introduced. But on top of that it had been starved to the point of insatiable craving and its soul had been moulded grotesquely by the whip and the shackles.
He looked up toward the ceiling as though to address the divines. "How did you acquire a protected species such as this?"
"Legitimately, let me tell you pal. If you were insinuating otherwise."
"This is a crime. Do not expect this to go on with no ramifications. To treat something like this is unethical."
"Hey, what do you know of ethics? I've read your profile janitor and you aren't exactly the king of compassion from what I can see."
Verdé bristled. "May Bôtana and the nature spirits have mercy upon your horrendous soul."
"Likewise, compadre."

 

[Majem]

Lanziver &quot;The Cave Dweller&quot; Hisworth

"This here orb won't make yer mum better, scissors. That's not the kind of magic it is, but if yeh help me retrieve it, I promise I'll make yer mum better." Lanziver said in response to the little girl introducing herself. "Same goes for the rest of ye. Whatever it may be ye think it'll bring, forget it. But help me, and I'll see what I can do to fulfill whatever dream ye had before stepping foot inside this godforsaken dungeon. That is, if we even-"
It was at that moment the blast of wind met the adventurers, interrupting Lanziver in his speech and steps. The gust itself easily missed the little man's frame and any dust carried along got caught in his thick eyebrows, but what stopped Lanziver entirely in his tracks was the feeling of dread washing over him. This wasn't ordinary air currents, or even a large monstrosity breathing. No, if only it were something that easy, but then what was it? It demanded tribute, that was all he knew.

Before being able to give it any thought, the ground beneath everyone's feet began to rumble, shift and crack open. With this much vibration, the mage didn't even need to tap the ground to get a feel for what was going on, the entire floor was collapsing! Skilled as he may be, the gnome couldn't prevent an entire floor from collapsing, especially not on such short notice. All he could manage to keep safe were himself and whoever was closest to him; little miss Alice. If he could keep her safe, at least, that would be enough for Lanziver. The rest would have to look after themselves.
"Stay where ye are!" Lanziver yelled at Alice, unsure how she would react to almost being crushed to death by a slab of stone coming down from the ceiling. Panicked, no doubt, but that wouldn't do anyone any good now. The gnome dashed towards the human girl as fast as he could and grabbed hold of her hand in hopes she would remain calm and stay with him. With a smack of his staff on the ground, a chunk of rock beneath their feet broke lose from the rest of the floor. At the same time, Alice and Lanziver seemed spared of any debris falling on them from above. The mage's body was completely tense, focusing all his power on redirecting rocks and keeping his little platform floating to save them from a horrible drop which was probably deadly to both of them given their stature. Yet despite his complete focus, the hand holding onto Alice felt gentle and protecting.

As the familiar sound of rock smacking on rock rang across the second floor and the dust had settled, one piece of rock came gently floating down towards the floor. A platform with two small contestants on top, though one seemed too focused to pay any mind to what was already going on down there. Eventually, even this slow falling boulder hit the floor and came to a halt and Lanziver's seemingly unwavering concentration fell; and so did he. The gnome dropped to his knee, beads of sweat dropping from his thick moustache and eyebrows. The gnome would need a moment to catch his breath.

 

[Huntress]

​

The squealing creature had been easily disposed of by the elderly man the wolf had seen earlier. More bodies approached, a large orc, a smaller human. The wolf slunk away into the darkness as it watched, large pieces of stone continued to fall from above, eventually two more beings joining the large group. The werewolf snarled to itself, it's chance had been lost, with this many people it wouldn't stand a chance. Perhaps if it stayed behind it could attempt to take out the slowest and weakest, whoever stuck to the back. Taking them out one by one. That seemed to be the best way. It snorted to itself and waited to see which way they would all go.

The demonic looking female with the unconscious blonde didn't seem eager to leave, but there had been a display of power from the winged one. A challenge possibly but the two of them would be satisfying enough wouldn't they? The beast's lip curled.

The elderly man seemed eager to lead the group.

The large orc and smaller human seemed to be having some minor conflict with the demonic woman.

The two that had recently arrived, one small man and a young girl seemed unaware of what had recently happened. Perhaps they would be a better target, they were unaware of the wolf's presence, they wouldn't expect to be hunted by the beast.

It's eyes were cold and calculating, the wolf was studying the group, trying to understand how each one worked, trying to decide how to slowly destroy them, each and every one of them, devour them.​

 

[Boo Girlie BoomBoom]

[fieldbox= Ms. Polanitia LaFontaine DeFuego, #9999ff]

The rosiness in her already rosy cheeks heated a deeper shade of bashful.

Polly waved an 'oh yoooouu...' motion at Verde, "I am... just okay, Senior, not soooo very nice and good all the times, I thinks..." but the giggle that followed her modest comment betrayed her thoughts of herself, "and okay, so si, my blood does have that kind of effect on mortals, its from my Other Mother... pero, sometimes it works on elfin peoples, sometimes not. The blood fights poisons. Cures. Which is nice. And good. Just saaaaayin..."

Golden brown eyebrows popped up, silvery eyes rolled upward as she shrugged and giggled like a little girl once more. She then held her tail and began brushing at it as if it were a little kitty, using it to half-hide her, flushed and grinning visage. The Half-angel was obviously struck by Verde's comment; she was actually taking it as a complement.

"Anda... I know you are not 'Janitor.' Sooooo... what are you actually called? I am called Polanitia LaFontaine DeFuego! You may call me Polly. I am honoured to meet you! Polly rose to her feet and gave a half-curtsey, "And since you know somethings about me... 'benvoleeeent...' Meee... Polly"--another girlish giggle this time stifled into a shoulder-- "what about you, Senior? What did you say to the dead, burnt head thing? What is it and why so upset it is here? It attacked the big wolf...?"

A thud made by giant rock touching down. Two small children had just landed... well, one little girl and a little fully facial hairy'd boy that was. Polly made a small 'awww' sound as the furry faced boy fell over. But that lasted all of 2 seconds when she recalled her last question to the 'Janitor'. Golden locks swished this way and that as her head twisted and turned, silvery eyes that could see into the dark straining to find what there was in the heavily shdowed areas, just beyond them.

Where was it hiding?!

She turned once more and silvery eyes popped open wide as she saw the children still upon the rock, exposed and vulnerable to hungry jaws of the giant wolf.

"Mali! Mi Linda!! Senior Perro Pervertido (Eww)!Where is the other in the fight?! Where did Senior Lobo Grande go?! Where is the giant wolf?!"

"OOOOOooohh!!! Well, what now folks?!" screeched out the Narrator's voice, setting Polly to cringe once again, but this time she flashed a sharpened canine revealing snarl, "Does Gosh-Gawwwlly Ms. Polly rush over to protect the oh-so-innocent-girlie-gumdrops-sugar-shock-sweetness and her fuzzball-face-pipsqueak buddy...? Or does Polly stay with her Pretty-Pretty...? Pretty useless elf, that is...! Does she even know what to do?! Oooooh drama! WHOOO-HOOOO!!"

The crowd 'WHOO-HOO'd' in response and Polanitia let out an irritated low-rumbling growl. But the Narrator was right; did she even know what to do now? No, but she let her instincts kick in.

Both claws curled as if clutching those invisible spheres once more. A heartbeat later she flicked her wrists upward and waves of golden fire coated her hands, horns and wings once more, body tensed ready to defend upon first sign of immediate threat. It was all she knew she could do right now; she was a protector afterall.

Hopefully with the light cast by her radiant fire the others nearby could spy the danger --or dangers-- lurking about just beyond the glooming shadows surrounding them.

[/fieldbox]​

 

[BaskinJR]

'You aren't exactly the king of compassion as far as I can see.'
Verdé drew back the veil of memories and gazed upon a simpler time. He was a Druidic initiate. Young, infuriating, volatile, arrogant.
And above all, he was naive.
And so the concept of compassion toward all beings, one so heavily coveted and revered by the Druids, perplexed him. Surely some would be excepted from this rule?
He was a curious case to the head Druids, especially his tutor Florîn. Too impertinent to accept the primary rule of the Druids, yet too tenacious to let his training go.
This all culminated to a point Verdé would regret.
He preferred to not mull over that dark time. But it had resulted in his expulsion from the Druidic order.
Over time he had mellowed. He was not the same man he once was.
He did not know why he sought the orb. Perhaps it was an attempt to repent, or to have recognition as an adept Druid. Whatever the case, he was to be careful. He glanced at Anna, who eyed him assessively, like a prey to be watched and pounced on at the optimum moment.
This was The Dungeons of Solomon, after all.

He perked up to Polly's address. "Oh, my name is Verdé of the fir division of the Druidic order." He shook her hand courteously. "And what I was doing to the Satyrfiend was blessing it." He frowned, realising how odd that would come off as. Blessing a monster? "After all beings, however malevolent, deserve some peace and salvation after death. Such is a staple of Druidic practice."

 

[Crono]

When Polly made contact in the sexual way that she did Mali resisted automatically. She had no intention of being hurtful to the half-demon but that was how it sounded. "Whoa whoa whoa! No no no! No no no no! Not happening! I'm fine! Get off of me you crazy bitch!" The ranger had shoved her off a bit harder then intended and said things she instantly wanted to have not. "Eh... Sorry, for that..." Apologies were not her forte and soon the flustered ranger was back to her orcish partner.

She was beautiful. If Malcan knew how pencils worked he would have written a poem about Polly the Half-Demon. Her silver eyes, golden hair, and lovely manner that she did near everything. Poor guy couldn't figure out who this 'Senior Pero Pervertido' was but for some reason he believed him to be a pretty cool guy. Where was the giant wolf? "Wolf?" He repeated in a confused tone.

"Wolf you moron. Like a dog but it kills you." Mali stated as she climbed onto Malcan's shoulders and looked around. (Spot Check: 19 If @Huntress thinks that's high enough then she may post as if Mali saw the wolf, yelled, and shot a arrow at it) While she looked, it became apparent that a giant charred arm was hanging over the two seductresses. It had a small pendulum swing to it and its long, limp fingers had been only just hidden by the darkness. Its owner appeared to have been smashed in the ceiling of the first room. However it must have happened before Polly got there, because she wouldn't have sensed any loss of life from above.



Alice had grown somewhat bothered by the gnome's words. "Are you sure? The doctors said what she had was called 'cancer.' Can you cure cancer Mr. Lanziver?" Before she got a answer the hallway started to collapse. For a moment her face lacked emotion, but was soon filled with fear. She grasped Lanziver's hand and closed her eyes, shivering in terror the whole way down. Once their stone touched the floor she jumped up with joy and hugged the tired cave dweller. "Thank you Mr. Lanziver sir! I would have been squished if it wasn't for you. Would some tea make you feel better?" As she said this the human girl looked around at the large number of people and smiled. She apparently thought that larger numbers were better then smaller ones. "Hello you all, I am Alice Small! This is my friend Mr. Lanziver!"



As the young girl spoke, Verdé would just be able to hear a voice from the nearby room. It was refined and gentlemanly, yet held a touch of venom. "Not so high and mighty now are we, Master Iron Will?"

 

[MagiKin]

Velari watched the events with interest. Luckily for the monsters, they left him alone. Whether that was because they failed to notice him, they thought him too strong or weak, it kept them off of his wrath. Granted, that satyrfiend would have been a problem but he probably could have handled it without too much excessive trouble. So the demon is called Polly and the druids name is Verde eh? Good to know. They all probably know mine from the announcer shouting it when I entered.

He could see the orc and his companion were alive and there were others that were joining them by the second. This was turning out to be quite the venture. He could not know what the group thought of him, but if they questioned his possibilities for strength or survival, he would show them exactly what he could do...especially if anything like that last creature showed up. He'd hate to start unneccessary rivalries this early in the game. That meant watching his back and his front. Too early for that...I need to wait until we're closer before I can worry less about that.
He crossed along the rubble towards the exit Verde had mentioned. He was interested in seeing what else this place had to offer.

 

[Assallya]

Assallya came to consciousness. It was a sudden thing. Those who had pampered easy lives came to awaken slowly with dulled senses. Those who experienced hardships, like herself, came to immediately. She didn't open her eyes. She had no idea where she was and didn't want anyone knowing she'd awakened until she knew what she was dealing with. Instead she reached out with her other senses. First, she realized she lay upon bare stone, but not awkwardly like she had been before. It was as if someone had taken the time to lay her out comfortably. That was a good sign. Her pointed ears detected conversation, mostly relaxed conversation and then there was a musical giggle. There was much in the way of movement, nothing quick. There wasn't the scuffling of feet indicative of combat. No, these were people milling about, mingling in a manner that reminded her of the lavish balls she'd attended since she'd travelled north.

Carefully she cracked open an eye, peering through eyelashes thickened and blackened with mascara. She recognized the blurry indistinct form of the old man due to his distinctive bearing and homespun robes but what caught her breath in her throat was the shapely buttocks before her. Her eyes were drawn to the long appendage slipping down from the woman's tailbone and curled back up to where the girl was cradling it. For some reason she felt her heart beat faster in her bosom. A battle raged inside her, between her logical, manipulative core and her warming heart. She was an enchantress who played with the emotions of men and all manner of creatures. She knew what she was feeling was wrong... but the worst part of it was that she didn't seem to want to care. She would have to kill her at some point she realized. If she were to take this orb for herself the girl with the tail would have to perish but at this moment that felt impossible. The very idea rankled, making her almost ill.

Realizing that she was safe enough to rise Assallya did so, feeling a little stiff, but otherwise unharmed. Her special ring that healed her of wounds had done its job remarkably well. She wasn't sure what happened to the paralysis, why she was able to move but she was certainly beyond complaining.

 

[Boo Girlie BoomBoom]

[fieldbox= Ms. Polanitia LaFontaine DeFuego, #9999ff]

Just like when she first saw her Pretty-Pretty, a mother's gentle softness held in those silvery eyes. Assallya rose under her own power, and Polly's heart nearly exploded with joy to know that she helped another rise up and live once more.

"Hola, Pretty-Pretty thing..." she said softly once more, hot breath wafting into Assallya's pointed ear. And once more,her voice was music ethereal and daggers infernal all the same, "welcome back. I am friend. I am called Ms. Polanitia LaFontaine DeFuego. But to make easy, you may call me, 'Polly.'"

She could not help but embrace the elf now, smiling, cooing and blushing all the same; for she helped with this. She saved another. Gently her hips rocked side to side caught in a song, a rhythm unheard but felt by those that ingested her fluids.

"Anda... we are in Solomon's Dungeon" she said softly, resting her forehead against the elf's own pale one, "And so I see they have dressed you like a whore... just as they did with me. But we will not give them the satisfaction. WE are meant for so much more... my Mothers will never let me be just such a kind of play thing..."

"What are you called, Pretty-Pretty thing..." she said softly, silvery eyes gazing deeply into endless sky blue ones, "Tell me please, okay? Okay. You will be protected. I will protect you. The respectful and considerate Druid Verde will be there for you. He is wise and respects life! Oh! And so I have marked us as Allies My Golden Fire will heal you and he...! "

"But there are others here... ones that will kill me because of my bloodline..." she said softly, as she nodded in Mali's direction. Yes, Polly did come off very strongly and sexually at the ranger, but she only was trying to show that they could be allies and in fact, she was trying to heal Mali. The rough shove from Mali had proved otherwise; Polantitia was not a 'bitch,' for the record, she would uphold, "...there are others that will molest us because of how they dressed us--" she nodded in the hulking Malcan's direction, "--and there is the giant wolf that will eat us because of its hunger... be careful, Pretty-Pretty..."

Golden locks swished about as she stared over in the Jinn's direction, "...and of course there are the unknown ones... ones that act upon their own accords..."

Assallya's wrist she grasped now as the dark and ominous voice sounded out from the next room. And if the elf wished, Polly would strap the shield she had found earllier onto Assallya's arm. It was spiked, just the right size for her and amazingly light; perhaps a treasure dropped from the limp black arm that hung above them.

"Orale, I will go see to the children then, okay? Okay." A sweet kiss she would plant upon one cheek, then the other cheek of Assallya's gorgeous face before giggling, then turning away, dark tail and golden locks chasing her motions. Into the air Polly leapt now, leathery wings spread and flapping away, rushing on over to the 'children.'

Polly had no idea if her blood had entralled the elfish woman, but by all accounts it seemed as if Assallya was looking at Polly with 'those eyes...' That was good enough for her. Even the inevitable betrayal, she was unawares. But for what it was worth, and worth so much more to Polly; she had made allies here in this horrid pit. She was a protector, healer, and lover afterall.

"Hola, Alice," she said after she landed, a small half-curtsey she gave to them, "I am called; Ms. Polanitia LaFontaine DeFuego, but you may call me Polly... and please do not be frightened of Polly? I am friend...! I will help you if you say; 'okay...!' Okay? Okay...!"

To the gnome she went now and cradled his small body, golden brown eyebrows slanting away, pink lips at full pout, "Oh! But this sweaty, fuzzy-faced nino, Lanziver! Ooooohhh... are you okay? Little boy, do you need healing...?" [/fieldbox]​

 

[Majem]

Lanziver &quot;The Cave Dweller&quot; Hisworth

"Polanitia LaFontaine DeFuego.. Where I hear that name before?" Lanziver said to himself as he looked up at the Angel-Demon hybrid, studying her aesthetically pleasing curvature, but more importantly her otherwordly features such as the horns and the wings. They looked to be similar to leather, but given that the wings allow for flight, the material has to be a lot more robust. Or perhaps she possesses inhuman strength in which case she wouldn't need to be light. The academic inside the little gnome was working hard to process the information it received.
"That's S087 aka Miss Polly, the Angel-Demon offspring, remember?" Another voice spoke up. As the voice spoke, a white light flashed from Lanziver's chest with every word spoken. The gnome reached into his robe and retrieved a small orb, fitting even in his own tiny hand. Inside the glass sphere, beyond the light it radiated, a wrinkled face covered by a blue beard could be seen, but not much more. "I detect some traces of mind-affecting magic. Whether or not it's consciously I think you could use some protection against that." The orb stated, then turned from white to pink and back to white. "Right. Thanks." Lanziver responded and stashed the orb away again.

Finally, the gnome rose to greet Polly with a small hand extended towards the creature before him. "Name's Lanziver, but I s'pose ye already knew that. However Miss DeFuego, I am no boy. I'm 112 years old and even fer my race that's well into adulthood." The gnome explained, for some reason very fixated on making sure she understood he was not a child. Now that he was standing, Lanziver didn't seem so tired at all. Gnomes are a magical race afterall, they are very skilled in the ways of magic, this one particularly skilled in recovery. Or maybe that little orb had something to do with it.

"Well, then. Onwards! Or are we waiting on someone?"

 

[BaskinJR]

Verdé paused. "The djinn has disappeared, to name one. However, I think it's best I continue." He turned toward the arch. "The longer we stay still, the more facilely we will be hunted." He hauled himself over stones with his staff and stood on the threshold between the cavern and the beyond. Nothing but caliginosity lay there to see. He stymied his protesting subconsciousness and stepped inside.
Moisture and tenebrous frigidity coalesced over his body. Ethereal hands stretched toward him, groping for the living thing that had dared enter. One grasped his shoulder and wrenched him toward it. The creature was grotesque, with a malnourished body and protruding ribs. But it manifested with the face of his old mentor, Flôrin.
Verdé suppressed a shout and pulled back, the slack-jawed face-stealer emitting a gasping cry and lurching toward him.
Verdé roared and green incandescence illuminated the tip of his staff. "Begone, accursed beast! Back to the netherrealm!"
It inhaled sharply and stumbled, then dropped on its knee.
Verdé scrutinised it for a moment and muttered a brief blessing. It's face had now burst into hives of bulbous, leprous growths that shifted and expanded.
Verdé strode on through, the face of his master recurring in his mind.
The demon had taken the face of the dearest of dead...

 

[MagiKin]

When the Djinn approached the entrance first, he sensed the malice waiting for him inside the darkened abyss. He wasn't going to walk straight into that, but he could make things complex for the group by making them do it. Turning himself into wind form, he entered unseen by the group and the creature reached for him first but could not touch him. He still felt the ethereal tendrils scrape against him and it made him shudder in disgust, but he floated past with little strenuous effort. Once he was out of the way of the dangerous beast, he came back to physical only to slowly drop to one knee. His magic hadn't recovered fast enough and he didn't realize he was close to the danger level of critical.

He'd have to rest and wait for whoever came after that creature. He could hear its death cry even from a small distance off and nothing seemed to be nearby him at the moment. Whoever was coming would be a good indicator of their skill against the creatures of Solomons dungeon and give Velari a small sense of what to prepare for when he went against the others.

 

[Crono]

Past the horrid face stealer's corpse was the white cave that was the next room.

The defiled Gauntlet of The Iron Will
It was a cavernous room made of polished marble and supported by strong pillars which ascended into the darkness above. Every tiny sound that was made echoed through the grand hall and the exit was only just visible at its end. At the center of the room was a single, titanic suit of heavy, spiky iron armor.
It stood there in knightly stance, mace smashed into the marble floor with both its hands laying on the end, ready for action. Under normal circumstances the ancient warrior would present three challenges of true chivalry, however...

A man was laying rather oddly on the suit of armor, one arm rapped around the shadowy helmet. He wore strange, expensive looking garb and held a small silver pocket watch by its chain, swinging it back and forth gently while it was followed by the two red blips of light that were the warrior's eyes. Long rabbit ears hung down from his blue hat and a sinister smile of long teeth like knives was plastered on his face. Upon seeing the djinn and his elderly friend he stood up, balancing precariously on one of the shoulder spikes. He gave a gentlemanly bow. "Good eve' friends, your just in time. I am Teronimus Hare. Teronimus White Hare. But of course simply Hare will do."

Teronimus White Hare
Hypnotist/Time Wielder/Gentleman
Polite until he kills you.
​

Mali sighed, lowering her bow. "Can't see anything. Musta ran off." She shouted over to Polly, still mentally beating herself up for acting so rudely. How dare she insult the poor woman! She was unaware of demon customs, probbibly unterupted some spiritual something-or-other. She snagged a lovestruck Malcan by the earlobe and began pulling him along after Verdé. "Come on lover boy. Quit your staring and let's go."

Alice smiled broadly at Polly and quickly nodded. "Okay Miss. Polly. I'll make sure to ask you if I'm in trouble."

The blackened arm twitched once, twice, then a third time and began to move. Long fingers reached for Assallya, small chunks of burnt skin broke off and landed around her. The cracked stone ceiling began to shift, slightly, and a hunting song drifted through the crevasses in the raspy voice of a older woman.

"Where, oh where have you gone?
It's funny that you think you can hide from me.
I will have your bones sawn.
And drink the marrow with glee..."

 

[Assallya]

Assallya stared wantonly at Polanitia, her blue eyes washing across the young succubus' nubile form. She sighed as the demon woman bent over, showing concern for the kindly gnome. Her fingers itched to touch, to caress pale skin that seemed almost blushed with lilac. She was so beautiful that it ached in the blonde elf's breast.

She knew it was false but that was a small truth compared to the greater truth that Assallya desired her. It was like a small voice of a conscience and she didn't possess much of one of those either. She moved forwards, reaching out with one slender hand, ignoring the Druid's call for moving onwards and gently touched at that blessed soft and slightly warm skin, just ever so slightly warm like a fire was forever burning in Polatnitia's loins.

It was then that Assallya heard the strange singing as if from a faraway distance. She blinked and peered about, azure eyes darting to peer at dark corners, trying to ascertain its nature, to locate it but humanoids rarely looked upwards. Her gentle caress of the beautiful succubus becoming a grasp of frightful worry.

 

[BaskinJR]

Verdé paused for a moment. Teronimus seemed volatile, unpredictable. He would need to be careful. He conveyed this to Velari with a wave of his hand, then stepped toward Teronimus. "Hail, master Hare." He addressed.

He examined the colossal, Herculean suit of armour. Its eyes still glowed with dim consciousness, and it seemed to stare forlornly toward the far wall. Verdé followed his gaze and saw a pane of glass, a circular object contained behind it. From what Verde's ailing eyes could tell, it was not the orb. But what WAS it?
He steeled himself away from the pane back toward Teronimus, staring into his tumultuous, giddy eyes solemnly.

Inside its metal prison, the spirit of the iron gauntlet languished.
It struggled against its unyielding bonds, living a shattered existence. It was entirely conscious, but its thoughts were incoherent, as though someone had developed them into film, viciously sliced at them and fed them into a projector. It strained to move, to shout and scream, but its asylum from the world held fast.
It had once been proud and puissant, but now it was but an achievement for the rabbit-fiend to gloat over.