The Dungeon Crawlers

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Zack slowed, but didn't stop. "Eh...I just needed to get out of there. I've learned from experience to stay out of bad situations I have nothing to do with."
Sweeping only seem to create a dust cloud. Zack sighs and sets the broom against a crate. He then leans on it and looks up at Alistair. "This isn't doing much, is it? I think the dust is too fine to sweep...."
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StormDeath turned to Assaylla."I happen to have a hardened leather breastplate that I took off the body of a dracanae queen in a former dungeon. It should do you nicely, since elves can't use magic in steel or iron. I have a few silver bladed daggers as well, if you have need of them. As for a leader," he says, addressing them all,"I have stood in a line, shield to shield with men, and watched them die because they had no real leader." Turning back to Assaylla, he says,"I'll strike you a bargain. If you can fix up this miserable hellhole with magic to make it somewhat livable, when the time comes, I'll be the military leader we will need. Do we have a bargain?"

Assallya didn't know what to say about the breastplate at first. Her first instinct was to spurn the thing. They had no idea that she had a ring that regenerated even the most lethal of wounds. She rather imagined if anyone found out about that they'd stick her with a blade and dump her in a ditch, stealing the ring before it had a chance to do its work.

"Really," she protested, "I am wasted in melee. The plate would be of more use to someone else closer to the front. Thank you."

Then the vampire revealed himself. That explained his pallid complexion. It wasn't that he hadn't seen the sun in in years. It was probably because he was feeling puckish. Assallya momentarily recoiled, concealing her shock and dismay nearly instantly. Vampire were soul suckers. Alistair had no afterlife and neither did those he consumed. It was a fate worse than death and his presence irked her.

"Yes. Every hand will be helpful," the even sorceress stated in a neutral fashion, affixing a perfect smile without a trace of disgust that she had mastered long ago.

She also found herself liking the wizened old man, whatever his name was. He seemed quite practical. Unfortunately, that also made him dangerous.

Then he continued with talk of providing the prisoners with dwellings. That was something of a bargain but casting a spell of that magnitude? If any magician had that level of ability they'd likely have teleported themselves out of here. She could likely raise some ramparts. It wasn't one of her regular spells and she would need to cast from her book. In addition, the strain would likely drain all of her magic for the day. That would leave her very vulnerable until she was fully rested and she didn't relish being eaten by Alistair while near defenseless.

"I can raise walls of stone from the rock below," she offered, "enough to form a bulwark of sorts."
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"Maybe you would be more useful just relaxing. Don't worry yourself too much." He gave Zack a pat on the shoulder. "Others may see your quick disappearance as weakness. Obviously, it is not, but you would not like to be left behind. Having a crew like them would serve useful to you. Have trust in my words, I have been in many states of weakness."
Zack nods, not quite sure what else to say. He continues leaning on the crate, watching and listening to the others. A small spider crawls up his arm, but as soon as he noticed it he flicked it, sending the spider to the floor. He was about to stomp the spider when it ran off. He shrugs and goes back to listening to the conversation.
The gears and cogs of Tare's brain clicked towards remembering as Ben spoke. So many people passed through here that sometimes the faces just started to blur together and it was a few moments before the face became familiar. As Tare recalled he had caught the pickpocket with something of Glens and that in turn had lead to a small...altercation. The boy himself seemed harmless enough, but his fingers were stickier than Tare was comfortable with. From the look that he was getting from the young man he suspected that he remembered the incident as well, but Tare was not going to be the one to bring it up first. However, he was saved be an equally pleasing comment from the vampire. Is that what they thought he had approached for, to make a ply for dominance? He had had a taste of that and he found it quite bitter. No for now he was content with helping this delightful little group stay alive beyond the first creature that exited those cursed doors. However the person he found himself disliking the most was this so called general.

"Do not strain yourself. You can spend excess energy after the fight. It won't be to long of a wait." He said to the barely dressed sorceress. His eyes flicked towards the soldier for a moment to give him a single harsh glare before his attention went back to Assallya and he was about to say something when something bumped gently against his back. Glen had moved silently and swiftly across the bare stones, her head down and her hands hanging limply at her sides. As soon as she reached Tare she grabbed onto his cloak and buried her face into his broad back. On her shoulder the same dark rat as before fixed a stare on the people who still stood near, black beady eyes that measured and calculated in an uncomfortably human manner.

"Glen wha-" Tare paused mid sentence as he spun to face the girl only to stop when he felt something scurry across his feet. Looking down he saw that about a half dozen rats were gathered around Glen, dodging about, and just barely managing to stay out from under peoples's feet.

"Hmm." Was the only sound Tare made as he turned back to face Assallya, Glen still holding onto his old dusty cloak. "I suggest you do what you need to do now, it wont be long now."

With that he headed back to his little hut with Glen trailing after him like some tethered pup, a caravan of rats chasing after their heels. It was hard to say exactly when the next beast would come, Glen was never good at specifics. Perhaps one of their only true blessings was that if it was something big they would be able to hear it coming before it reached the gates. All that was certain right now is that something was making its way up through the labyrinth that lay far below their feet. Something mean enough that it had sent a little crew of rats scampering out of that dark hold to the person they favored and trusted. Now it would be a rush to see if they could prepare enough to hold off whatever monstrosity was coming for them.
Shrugging his shoulders, StormDeath puts the breastplate back in the chest in his tent. "Suit yourself. Will you need us to do anything for you to cast the spell? This isn't my first run in with a sorceress, so I know a spell of this size will cost you a lot of strength."
Glen's sudden appearance had startled Ben, but not only that. In some strange way, he felt more uncomfortable than he'd felt in years.
The man he'd forgotten in his time here. He was just so normal looking. There were scores of prisoners just like him.
The girl, well, no. He remembered what he'd tried to steal from her.
He'd been desperate, and in debt. He couldn't leave the prison empty-handed, and she was an easy target. He rubbed the scar on his finger from when the rat bit him.
Ugh, now there were more rats. He stared, speechless at the little pied-piper in front of him that seemed to have a mystical air with the rodents.
He shook himself, watching their retreating backs with relief. Do what needs be done? He could do that. As it so happened, he had connections in the prison. Some were friends from the outside, some were men he'd hustled and who owed him debts. One was a kid that liked dares.
He'd gotten them, one by one over the years, to find out all they could about the labyrinth. Some bribed the guards, some listened like spies, and that one boy had gone on a dare, during a rare melee, to explore as much of the maze as he could. He'd reported back to Ben half dead, with tales of horror and gore and pain and of a complex system of tunnels that made no sense to the unobserving. But they did to Ben. There was one thing the kid had told him, right before he fell dead, that would help them immensely the next time the doors opened.
"I have a map," Ben said.
The sorceress had to admit she didn't like this at all. Her specialty of magic was in the ephemeral and the subtleties of the mind. She dealt in manipulation. Thrusting up a great hunk of stone from the bedrock was decidedly blunt and quite physical. Worse, someone had just placed a guttering candle before her and told her she had until it snuffed to complete her task.

"Nothing really needed," she replied, appreciating the thought, "I doubt you have much in the way of ritual implements nor do I have time to consecrate them but thank you.

Striding apart from the others in the direction of the giant iron doors. Iron. Why did it have to be iron. Sure iron blocked a loft of magics, making it harder for many supernatural creatures to break through but it also blocked the ability to scry through it. Those that had erected the gate had probably lined it with lead, or worked it into the steel bands surrounding it to be double sure and then had a priest bless it to boot.

Sitting down on the slate floor of the cavern she crossed her legs beneath her in lotus fashion and began drawing with a piece of white chalk. Grand circles she wove about herself, bifurcated with other circles and carefully drawn runes. Each circle in each location was different, determined by the position of the stars and the flow of energy in the area in addition to the intended effect.

Partially through drawing, she flipped open her book she consulted the diagrams, closed her eyes and felt for the area's energy flows before continuing. Several minutes later, she gazed across her work and consulted her book several times. It would not do to make a mistake. What she intended would be draining enough without losing energy.

Then she began the chanting, her arms weaving through the air, fingers curling and flexing in intricate patterns. The ground before her trembled with each movement, as if grumpily waking from a long slumber. Finally, she projected her hands outwards, fingers upraised like claws and slowly lifted. There was a savage rending noise that resounded through the cavern, echoing back and forth as the slate cracked open in a long line. A stone wall slowly rose, broken shards falling aside, finally reaching a height of eight feet followed by another wall, right behind the other, almost half the size for people to stand upon.

Exhausted, her long mascaraed lashes fluttering with fatigue the elven courtesan slumped, her shoulders slouching.
(Hope you guys don't Mind but I'm bringing in a second character a more interactive one to go with Nightshade)


- Name -

- Equipment -

His right arm has a glove of not iron but it appears a strange metal like structure. It acts like a claw of a birds. He also often relies on magic if not hand to hand combat and a bow he is pretty well of a shot.


Vamir was pushed into the dungeon he spotted many. Some preparing others waiting, others practicing then he spotted a group in the center speaking. Walking forward he went over he hated his wings might never grow back. Looking he spotted iron doors and bit his lower lip but breathed to clam himself and went closer to the group seeing he wasn't the only odd one of the sort. He noticed many in armor but chose not to wear any for all he saw was made of metals most perhaps iron and he did not wish to take a chance. "Hello" He said his voice appeared rather clam for a new arrival. "May I ask what you are talking of? I see unlike the others you are in a group." He said giving his observation.


Nightshade watched listing then noticed a new arrival. She was curious what a Fae would be doing here. Most were often killed she had heard before arriving. What could await them inside those doors for the guards to bring a Fae. She looked to the group wondering what there thoughts might be. Still in the back of her mind judging them all.​
Zack was about to walk towards Ben to ask him about the map when the sorceress began erecting the stone walls. He watched, impressed yet worried what lay beneath the stones. He wondered if doing this changed a room beneath them or destroyed a hallway...
He waited for Assallya to finish before he walked over to her. Zack saw she had exhausted herself. He smiled and offered her his hand. "Thank you for doing this. Do you need me to help you to a bed?"
Quickly taking control of the situation, StormDeath yells to the men in the cavern, "Alright! I want archers on the wall! One every ten meters! DO NOT TAKE YOUR EYES OFF THE DOOR! Sound a horn if anything happens!" Turning back to the group, he says to the fae that had joined them, "My name is StormDeath, former general and military tactician for the King. What are you called?"
Nightshade heard one begin to yell orders her glare turned but she said nothing knowing how that was normal she was actually starting to wish she never agreed to maybe help with this idea. She already felt she knew who she would and wouldn't be good working with. She may slip off for a while once they made it inside to tango with the creatures that await.


Vamir heard yelling and remained quiet till the man who had appeared giving orders which he didn't expect many for now to follow except those who may have in the past. Then he heard the man reply. "I'm Vamir." He replied then put out his left hand for his right may not be the wisest to extend he had learned the hard way once. He was rather curious about this group being unlike those who took to there own most seemed to talk except so far her noticed a few had not since his arrival but he figured they were listing and perhaps had earlier.​
"Holy Fitzgilbert, lady," Ben cried to the elf's prone figure. "What was that for? Any moment now that door could open, and here we are making shelters?"
Ben stopped pacing, his mouth twitching. "Shelters," he said slowly, "they'll not expect."
He stepped over the elf and race to and fro among the swarming crowd that had gathered. He ignored StormDeath's cries.
"Yes, just here," he mumbled, "and there too," and "ah, now this is good, very good."
He motioned to Zack. "Help me pull her to safety. She'll wake up and join us later."
"Now you," he said, pointing his little knife at the vampire, "whatever weapons you have, make use of it, and stay away from me!"
Ben ran off at a clip. Vampires were a sort he'd met in the city. They were tough, cruel, and untrustworthy. He'd have to stay away from this one if he wanted to survive. He was sure of it.
He passed another elf who wore a strange-looking sleeve. He almost stopped in his tracks when he saw the piercing glare from an almost luminescent eye.
He kept running. Now it was time to get his map.
Assallya felt completely exhausted, every ounce of energy drained from her. Odds were that nothing would come through those iron doors when they finally swung open but she almost found herself hoping some massive creature would come rampaging through the doors. It would make the raising of the ramparts that much more satisfying.

Then Zack asked if she needed to be taken to a bed. She didn't really enjoy the idea of flea infested cot that wasn't even good enough for a peasant. It was still sweet, or as close as one could expect in a hellish landscape like this.

"I'm fine," she stated, laying back and staring up at the cavern ceiling above her, "Just tired.

She truly would have preferred for nothing more than to be pampered but she was in the midst of proving how incredibly selfless she was. That would pay off in spades when she tried to get out of exploring the tunnels and started the mapping process.
Ben rummaged around in his tent.
"Where is it, where oh where..."
He'd hidden it well. Not in his bag, of course. Everyone had something stolen from him at some point down here. No, this map was precious, so he'd buried it.
He laughed at himself, digging for a treasure map.
His nails dug through the dry dust in the exact centre of the tent. "Ow!" he cried. Yes, there was that bent nail he had buried a few inches away as a landmark. It had stuck him in his fingernail.
The blood poured, making a thick red mud, but Ben continued. His trousers were filthy.
Finally a scrap of paper revealed itself. Sticking his finger in his mouth, he used his other hand to uncover it.
It had been months since he'd made this map. Hopefully it was still legible.
The hole went deeper as he excavated. Dust filled the air and clogged his nose. His eyes streamed.
Finally the map was free. Dusty, bloody, but still mostly readable.
He ran back to the door.
Heads turned. He was covered in dust and coughing. The elf was still lying in the ground.
He held up the paper victoriously.
At that moment there was a long, painful creak that sent a shudder down his spine.
All the action around him stopped.
The door was opening.
Nightshade and Vamir both glanced to the now open door. Nightshade pulled out one of her daggers ready to see what might try and escape to the crowd and aim to kill them all just so the creature may have a chance to destroy the world above. She honestly wouldn't care if whatever may come wasn't a threat to her but being it might be she was ready. The man who was a Fae, Vamir, stood his eyes still on the group but now on the doors as well.

(@Spook um... So being the doors are open I'm guessing you might wish to throw something at us)​
Zack nodded and was about to step away when the door began to creak open. He backed up a few feet, then unsheated his sword and readied his shield.
Zack stood as if he was going to dash at whatever came out from behind the door. He stood tense, like a cat about to pounce on its prey.
StormDeath heard the horn of one of the watchers and whips around. The doors are open! "Shieldbearers and pikemen to the front! Phalanx formations! Melee fighters in the second rank! Ranged fighters to the rear!" He yells. I don't know what's gonna come out, but whatever does, we're gonna kill it. Then, we are gonna take that dungeon. He strides in front of the phalanx and draws his Drakonslayer.
"StormDeath, come'ere!"
Ben ran through the pell-mell. StormDeath was calling for phalanxes and pikes, none of which Ben was familiar with. Ben did know, however, that the commander would be interested in a sort of battle plan, which required what Ben was holding in his hand.
He retreated to a corner. The young scout had given him one vital piece of information, which was written on the corner of the page in a simple scrawl. Bits and pieces of the map were bloodied and marked, although Ben could make out the gist of it. He designed it, after all.
He fiddled with his pocket. His fingers brushed against cold metal, and he pulled out the brass knuckles he stole earlier.
They would probably come in handy, seeing as he'd discarded his decrepit sword. He wondered if the original owner would try and get them back.
He remembered something.
"You," what's his name, "old man with rat girl!" He waved at the pair, although he doubted they noticed him. Though he hated to collaborated with enemies, it was probably a good idea to have another ear, in case of injury or death. The more who knew about the labyrinth's design, the better.
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