The Dungeon Crawlers

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Armour_of_Romulus.jpg

- Name -
Crimson

- Equipment -
Two hidden blades, heavy armor that takes a lot of force to pierce, a crimson cloak, (That's partially the reason why he is called "Crimson") and re-attachable spiked brass knuckles.

- Advantage -
His size, tolerance of pain, and his abnormal strength

- Weakness -
Agile and quick enemies

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Crimson was training hard. His armor was off as he finished his 1,100th push-up. He stood up, quickly and rolled his shoulders. He then began to practice his maneuvers. He punched left, then right, then he hit an uppercut, then a superman punch, and so on.

After his training was complete he sat down on the bench and began suiting up. He put on his shirt, then his cloak, his armor, and finally his hidden blade gauntlets. He hung his brass knuckles on his side, he would only take them out when he needed to, and now was not one of those times. He pulled his hood over his face, and then sat there pondering on this next dungeon fight coming up. He believed he was ready, but you never know what you're up against down there.
 
Ben watched the man in red, biting back a laugh as the man flexed and armoured up. All those strong fellows were the same. Arrogant.
Ben's own helmet was under his arm, but he slide it on his head. Then he approached the man who didn't seem to be doing anything at the moment.
He walked up to him, and putting on his deepest, growliest voice, he put out his hand.
"Hello. Haven't seen you around."
While he spoke, he reached over, and deftly removed the brass knuckles from the man's side. He pocketed them quickly.
 
StormDeath watched the theft. The mans good. I must watch my back. Walking up to the man in red and the thief, StormDeath puts his hand on the thief shoulders. "I know why you are down here, seeing as you just stole this mans brass knuckles, but do you really think it's a good idea to steal from a man who is clearly an assassin? He might use one of the hidden blades on his forearm and stick it between your ribs before you even enter the dungeon."
 
Ben jumped backwards, throwing up his hands.
"I'd not been caught if you'd kept silent!"
He tossed the trinket back at the assasin. "Anyways, I have no need for it. Can you imagine me in a fistfight?"
He laughed and motioned to his scrawny frame.
Then he held out a hand to the new arrival, speaking this time in his normal voice.
"I'm Benjamin, pleased to make your acquaintance. He's an assassin, as I've seen, and I'm obviously a petty thief, but why are you here?"
 
Zackary nods and shakes his hand. "Ally." He stands up and stretches, then looks across at the others around him. Training, chatting, sleeping, praying; Zack watched them, knowing not everyone would survive. "Y'know, what I did wasn't that bad of a crime. I didn't kill anyone in the process...Although I did cause some injuries. It was either fight or jail, and at least this way I can prove I'm not just a waste of space..." He sighs and looks down at his feet. He then closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, then returns to smiling.

"At least the guards that caught me said I was a good fighter...and most of the people forgave me for what I did. So, I guess I could be a lot worse off." Zack resumed looking at the others. Every time someone made a big noise or moved around a lot, Zack's gaze would immediately focus on the activity. "Lots of others here...." Zack looked at Assallya. "I hope that girl has a trick up her sleeve, because she really doesn't have much in the way of armor..."He turned back to his seat and faced StormDeath, trying not to constantly twist around to see what was happening around him.
 
Name:
Alistair Cimon
Appearance:
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Equipment:
A hidden dagger and a small vial of life energy, used only when void of any nourishments (blood)

-----------------------------​

He had been out for a long while. The amount could not compare to the time he died, but it was still long. When Alistair awoke, he knew immediately what laid out in his path. He refused to go to jail, and so of course, what else could he do? Jail is where you find the sad, unfortunate fellows who want to sit and mope. Here, you can find a more lively bunch.

Alistair was a unique one, with his ghostly pale skin, and seemingly luminescent eyes. But the simple truth was that he once got his throat ripped out by a little girl—who ended up being thousands of years old—and woke up as a walking blood vacuum. Ever since, he found himself with great strength, amazing agility, and a horribly beastly hunger. Of course, he would somewhat like to die for good, so there wasn't much of a point in weighing himself down with armor and the like. He already goes through agonizing pain, so what's a few jabs with a sword?

As he sat up, holding his head with his hands and hissing in pain, he noticed there were quite a bunch already associating themselves with others. And so, the vampire wiped the grimace off of his face, put on his best schmoozer look, and sauntered up to a chosen few. A kid who can't seem to sit still, and a quiet man, who shared a handshake with the other as a sign of alliance.

"I hope you two don't mind a small intrusion. Allistair, at your service." He grinned, fangs glinting even in the low light of the dungeon.
 
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Zack looked up at Alistair and immediately fixated on the fangs. "Y-your a vampire, aren't you? I really don't like-er...uh...S-sorry...I've had a bad experience with a vampire once....." He stares dead at Alistair's fangs, looking quite scared.
 
He tapped his chin with his finger. "Hmm.. Well, I could counterbalance it with a good experience with a vampire. Of course, if you were older, that is." Alistair snickered a bit. "Don't mind me. I promise I don't bite. At least I don't bite people I like."
 
"StormDeath, former general and military tactician for the King. I'm here for killing three people in a bar fight with a spoon." He looks at Ben and offers his hand. "Ally? I figured in there, it pays to have a lot of people watching your back."
 
Assallya considered Nightshade's words. She'd heard similar. The Dungeon Crawlers kept whatever was down here at bay, preventing them from surging up and attacking the castle, and should the castle fall, the populace outside. It was rather like a plug over a demon hole, only a plug made up of mankind. Assallya figured they were the first line of defense, the early warning system. Should they be overrun those above would have time to rally.

"It would seem that there are only three ways to free ourselves of this place," Assallya said, thinking aloud.

"One, we might battle our way to the heart where these monsters thrive, determine what spawns them and deal with whatever we find down there. Two, we might venture forth and find our own way to the surface and three, we might retake the castle behind us."

The blonde woman considered again, tapping her finger against her small tapered chin. She didn't like any of those option. Not one bit.

"I definitely proposed the second option. It is by far the least dangerous and killing whatever spawns the beasts will profit us nothing. We'll need to establish a map room and start looking for a way out. That is, if the people here haven't done so already.

"What do you think?" she asked Nightshade, seeking her opinion since the woman had been here for some time before Assallya who'd just arrived.
 
Nightshade raised an eye at the mention of escape. Her hands then sat on her hips listing no longer thinking of grabbing a blade at the moment. She then nodded and looked to the woman. "A map I thought of once but a little hard when no one to keep watch." She answered. "Not sure but perhaps one of the boys have? Well men as they prefer to be called." She suggested liking these ideas quit a lot. "We can ask. But you might should do more of the talking..." She stated and paused to look around. "Not everyone here has died by what's inside some by my hand from me finding them annoying." She commented feeling now it was safe to say being this other woman seemed to have some use to her.​
 
"Hmm. StormDeath," Ben said. "It's true, it pays to have an ally," he waved his hand in the direction of the dungeon, "but one must pay dearly for one as well, am I right?" He cocked his head on one side and grinned. He took off his helmet, blinking in the sun.
"Sir, I can't say I've ever had the guts or strength to do what you did, but I am pleased to meet you all the same."
So he had worked for the king. While he spoke, Ben judged the man's size and appearance.
Taller than he, but not by much. Strong-looking. Black tunic, black shirt, black, black, black... Unimpressive.
Ben knew it was the unimpressive ones that were the deadliest. This was someone he could not steal from.
Back in the city, the majority of the population, even when sober, were extremely easy to rob. Part of this was it was so crowded, and everyone was jostled around, but there was something else Ben noticed about them.
Everyone trusted his neighbor even when his neighbor. It was a group mentality. If, for instance, someone were in a spot of trouble, like getting robbed, the reasonable expectation would be that the man across the street would run to his aid.
This is a model that exists only in theory. The reality was, as Ben noted time and time again, nobody cared. That is, if an elderly lady was getting her purse snatched in a crowd, someone else would deal with it, and therefore no one did.
If there was one thing Ben learned in prison, it was that that sort of thinking did not exist in the country.
Ben put his hands on his hips, helmet under one arm.
"How about some training?"
 
Zack looks towards the dungeon's large door.
"I wonder when they'll open the thing up. I'm kind of exited to be going inside.... even though the monsters the guards descibed sound terrifying. It's just seems so mysterious! I want to see what's behind that door! There could be a sprawling system of caves....or an underground castle....or..." His voice trails off as he begins to daydream. For the first time since he arrived he sat still.
 
Nightshade killed those that annoyed her? That could be a problematic trait. Not simply for herself but in terms of control. A leader that could not control her minions was not to be trusted. If Nightshade started killing people, particularly rivals that were impeding progress it could make them both look weak. Those that were truly annoying most often had to be defeated through words. An brow beaten enemy could then be killed later, after they'd been forgotten but before they got their legs beneath them and tried again.

"The hardest part will be requisitioning parchment, ink and quill," Assallya then stated, still musing, "The castle above our heads will likely not supply us ought but weapons. The last thing they wish is for an organized militia. We are cattle for the slaughter. They want a dull shield, to be battered and hammered down to nothing and discarded, not a sharp sword flashing at the shadows."

Assallya was a prolific speaker. Partway through her musing she had progressed into nearly a speech. Her hands had moved, illustrating points, punctuating elements with changes in her facial features. Her blue eyes dazzled.

"I need more information. I need to know the current power structure and if I can ingratiate myself into it or if it needs to be brought down."
 
Nightshade listened and began to think nodding about how gathering a ink and parchment would not be easy. Then when Assallya finished she had an idea at the mention of a shield. "Perhaps parchment and ink to write with may be hard to come by. But as you say a shield would not be." She explained a smirk once more underneath the mask. "There are many ways to draw over different shields maybe if we took a wooden one and turned it into our map?" She suggested.

Nightshade really did feel she finally found someone she could speak with so far without any problems it seemed. She wondered if perhaps this plan would work but felt the two may couldn't do it alone. With that thought she wasn't sure how finding more allies might go.​
 
Crimson refusing to start any type of quarry, let the thief keep his brass knuckles. He felt no need to be hostile at the moment.

I'll get them back later, he thought to himself.

Crimson refused to be a "fanboy" of any sort. He knew who he was, he just chose not to partake in the ogling of this man. He instead got up, cracked his knuckles and kept walked a little closer toward the big iron doors. He examined them, then took a knee in front of them.

He touched the ground that it shadowed and said a prayer before it.
 
Alistair glanced over towards the entrance, humming. "Well, I'm not as excited. You know human folk like yourselves don't take kindly to anyone who intimidates them. Like me." Alistair joked, before shoving his hands in his pockets. "Well, so long as I get to meet a lively bunch who don't try and kill me, I'll be content."
 
Assallya had to admit, that was intelligent. The inside of a shield would make for a good place to take notes for those traipsing through the darkness. They would still need some sort of quill and ink but others might be able to come up with alternatives. Blood made an excellent ink and someone could make a quill of sorts from the fallen timber that made up many of these rudimentary huts.

"Perhaps one or more of these prisoners will be versed in woods lore," Assallya further mused, "Such men are quite capable at making tools from the corpses of beasts. I have seen them drying out the gut of various animals to make bowstrings and bindings. I rather imagine there are plenty of interesting creatures from which to cut apart and make things of."

"Of course," she added, "This all hinges upon the collection of allies."

What she didn't add was that being outside exploring caverns and searching for a way out was quite uncomfortable a thought for her. She didn't relish being maimed, eaten, or being used as some sort of breeding vessel by some obscure abomination from another world. No, if she could manage it she'd be comfortable right here arranging the details, sending people out on missions of exploration and staying as far away from danger as possible.

"Would you care to follow or fade into the background as I approach the others?" she asked.
 
Nightshade listened and nodded. She knew how to turn somethings into new objects but other items depended. She was thinking more of a knife to cut into the wood of a shield. But blood would do to her liking just as well. Then hearing allies she stared at the other woman. "Yes I suppose..." She replied still not sure her thoughts on others yet. "Fade into the background is more my speed." She replied when the woman asked. "And if none are willing I may can make something of use to create that map. But I think your idea is better than mine of a knife."

Nightshade glanced at those around. Then back to the woman so she could led. Her plan was to stay around but let Assallya do the talking while her the observation. She was quiet good at staying quiet and hidden for many say her traits are of an assassins but none new if she once was. Yet another question she had never answered. Others thought thief for a time till they noticed she hardly stole unless the person was dead.​
 
"Haha! Of course!" Taking his long now from his back and drawing two arrows, StormDeath whirls around, and nocks, draws, and shoots the arrows, striking the bullseye on three different targets simultaneously. "How's that?" He asks Ben.
 
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