A Dungeon to Each Their Own

~Part I: Dungeons of Oestemoor~

~The Dungeon's Tale~

No One's Perspective-

Once she had strode away from the stables, doe eyes lingered towards the palomino stallion set in his stall. He only blinked towards her, dipping his head down to the bucket of grain. A fine steed, as she was promised.

"Tori!"

She whirled around to find the lord scratching his wispy beard, grey eyes gleefully glancing about. Though, once she strode closer, the glee morphed into a hidden anxiety. "Ah, yes," he grinned nonetheless, "before we reach the dungeon, we must discuss the beast and ready you."

"Ah...yes," she nodded. Tori gazed around the small city, her fist firmly around her hilt. Lord Mortimer wrung his wrists in reply, striding briskly through the streets.

"My quarters are not far from the stables, the local one anyway," he murmured, the Bellator only glancing around. Previous bounties had set her within Maytredsworth, there was no question about that, though none of which had brought her into the heart of the trading city. Its cobblestone streets ran to the brinks of twisting rivers, winding green hills with excellent farming mixing with small cottages; she had to bring three men wanted for burglary of several jewels among the homes. Eventually, when the plateaued-cliffs became great walls, tall structures forming several houses within them overlooked the land. They scraped the sky, and while mighty on their own, they merely complimented the extreme heights of the mountain behind them; Tori had to hurl herself along the rooftops in order to slay a rather nasty man, wanted for several murders of sex workers. A forest hugged the tall structures and farmland, and was a successful barrier between the trading city and the original, founded Maytredsworth - excluding the great gate, that is.

The difference between the main city and its heart was vast; while the city stood to outstanding heights, repairs were often needed for the rotting, weathered wood and cracked stones. Within Maytredsworth's original town, the streets and buildings had appeared to have remained the same, only needed repairs every decade.

Lord Mortimer explained to the Bellator that the town itself was older than the ground they stood on, as dirt often was naturally replenished, and that his family was the only surviving line of the original colonists - the Mares. And while overtime his family had lost the name and replaced it with 'Cordelier', the Mares were still ancestors.

His hand gripped the doorknob before it creaked open. "Come inside," Lord Mortimer jerked his chin, Tori glancing up at the impressive, columned building. The door was shut behind her, the scrawny man shuffling inside. "This, uh... This was and always has been the Lord's quarters within this town. It's best to keep traditions; you never know when they'll die. But anyway," he waved off, his long coat hanging from the hook nailed into the wall, "come, we must discuss the lore of this dungeon before anything. It is essential."

The size of the room wasn't impressive, though the items and furnishings it obtained definitely were. A wide map of Oestemoor was painted across a blank wall, bookcases against another while wide paintings - hung fashionably beside small windows - and a desk sat opposite of the map. Along the last wall, swords and armor rested high above scattered parchments nailed to the old boards. The lord situated himself at the desk, gesturing for the huntress to seat herself on a small, wooden chair.

"Have you seen these paintings before?" he pointed towards the array of art behind him. Tori observed them closely, having not gotten the chance before. The depictions were each horrifying - fire, black, smoke, cobblestone streets, sprinting people and beasts. Each of the monsters had red eyes, though subtle differences were made with each one. The strange shadows all clutched a glowing item in their hands; four had only orbs within fists while another also bore a long black sword with red, fiery veins pulsing through it.

She furrowed her brows, though continued to gaze upon the pieces.

Four others held the colors blue, white, yellow and green in their hands, the various lights shining against their white fangs and searing red eyes. Another, which only hand one eye, held purple with the sword in its grasp.

"These beasts of black," Lord Mortimer murmured, "came out of the dungeons a few years shy of three hundred years ago. It was the fifteenth Year of Wolf, then. It was the celebration of Carnival, and everybody hadn't expected an attack. The beast of the dungeons let out a terrible force, allowing all of these creatures to run away."

"Who led the dungeons?" Tori asked.

The man sighed, replying, "Her true name has been lost by the test of time...I do not know. But, throughout Oestemoor another name has been branded. It is taboo to speak of it, especially in King Beck's kingdom."

"What happens if you do?"

"If the king hears you," he grumbled tiredly, "you'll be in for a nightmare. He's never liked the name and will punish those gravelly as horrible as he would cannibals." Readjusting himself in his seat, the lord leaned forward. "She goes by Aglæca." It was derivative of an old tongue, not spoken for centuries - Elken. It was the heart of evil, destruction and chaos. Demon. "Now, there are more details you shall know of. Firstly, the dungeon is excellently built," he continued, "and excellently guarded. Those who managed to make it out alive spoke of great 'guards' who resemble different monsters, and then there are entities that lurk about. The walls move, some of the rooms are closed off, others caved in."

"How did that happen?" the Bellator furrowed her brows.

"Time," he shrugged. "And that, my friend, is all I have to share." She nodded, pursing her lips with her brows creasing her forehead.

Lifting her gaze, she asked, "When do I start?"

"Now, if you desire to. I will give the thousand shillings after you are done. There wouldn't be any use of giving it to you before if you perish in those wretched walls." Understanding the man, Tori excused herself with a firm shake of a hand before striding through the front door.

She blended with the crowds well, even with the large sword by her side. The huntress ignored the calls, warning her of the dungeon. Venturing out, she quickly found herself at the footsteps of the mountain. The town was built right in front of the Oestemoor Dungeons.

Starting her adventure, Tori strode up the steps, taking a few moments to gaze out from the railing. The city - formidable from the outside - was majestic from her view. The higher she went, the more softer the landscape seemed. And right at the height of the long staircase, she leaned against the stone railing, gazing out into the field.

"You remind me so much of her..." An airy voice jerked her attention from behind, white glowing eyes among the dark doorway.

"Excuse me?"

"The Madam," the voice spoke, its age seeping in the few words he spoke, "she would always stand there whenever trouble brewed." She stared for a few moments, waiting for the voice to speak once again. "What have you learned of this dungeon?"

Tori swallowed, recounting the details she'd just learned barely an hour before. "A wicked beast sent her forces to the town, and meant to destroy everything... Why?"

She heard a large inhale before he muttered, "All of those who have come here to kill whatever beast lurks in here always attacks me and my friends. They think that the beasts only attacked the town, but they did not. You were sent here to kill a beast, weren't you?" She nodded, the glowing eyes blinking. "Come inside if you want to find the truth, though we don't truly know it either." Obediently, she strode through the door, the familiar sound of claws against hard floors clicking beside her. "Follow me," the voice spoke, a great body thundering beside her. She tried hard to keep her heart from her throat. "I will lead you to the first floor, and we shall see how smart you are."

Stairs had come suddenly, her feet catching air. Tori yelped, her hands snatching steps as she collapsed. The voice only chuckled, warning too late, "It is dark in here. Watch where you walk."

"Thanks," she grunted, glaring out into the black. As she minded the stairs, dim lights flickered around the bend. Following the creature, she found that he resembled old depictions of dragons, though much smaller. He had long black fur and short ears, his jawline and tail the only things truly mirroring that of a dragon - with fur. His glowing eyes peered at her in the dim light, his body settling comfortably in a stone chair pressed against the wall; Tori looked closer, and came to realize that it was a part of the wall, merely carved out of it.

"What is your name, young one?" he asked curiously, long knobby fingers playing with the ends of his worn, though thick, purple robes.

"Tori Vega-Bellator," she answered meekly.

"What a nice name," he mumbled thoughtfully. His pleased expression of finding a visitor drifted away, a grim glint then flashing in his eyes. "You wish to find truth, yes? The truth of what happened to these walls." She nodded obediently. "Now...where to start. Perhaps I shall give you the life that roamed these walls, and then the despair.

"The Madam built this for my kin, Loyals kin, and giant kin. The Loyals were made of eleven, and they were the strongest of the guards. They could venture out into the world at her bidding. We, my kin, guard each of the seven levels. I the first as I am usually permitted to go as I please with my knowledge and skill. My brothers and sister guard the other six levels... Giants had roamed these halls as it was a sanctuary for them. The fifth level is the largest. It allowed for them to live in their own small village...so long as they helped protect the dungeon from a dangerous force to the east." Tori listened carefully, sitting beside the dragon-esque creature. While the tales he spoke of were Romantic of the dungeon's previous life, she took it grain by grain.

For all the huntress knew, the strange creature could be the beast she sought to kill.

"Though, by the last Carnival, everything went to damnation. Entities had struck our walls, urging the Madam to go down to the seventh level. A terrible curse was expelled out into the air, plaguing our senses. Monsters and beasts fought us, killed many of the giants as they fled. We though," his voice began to rise, the strong, weathered snarl proud, "we Dragon-Kin remained loyal to our Madam!" His fist slammed against the chair, spooking the Bellator. "We remained and haven't left, protecting this damned dungeon from the same, wretched beasts that disease the forests around."

"So, so the Madam isn't behind this?" The Dragon-Kin stared down at her carefully, his proud nature ceasing, allowing weary eyes to remain.

"She perished with the Loyals that day. The entrances to the lower levels collapsed. My sister and three brothers cannot get out; they haven't seen light in so long. Ludhiana and Khaumbach are the only ones who can see the sun as I do when they venture from their levels. However, I can still speak to Luana and Fordicana through the pipes; my last brother on the final level, the best of us, we haven't heard from. I suspect he is dead with the Madam," he grumbled hoarsely. "If you wish to speak to them and have them allow you to the final level, come with me. There are few stairwells that the Madam used to quickly get to her level."

"Are there some on each floor?" she asked, following the large creature.

"Every one... The walls move, though. They hadn't when the Madam was alive. The dungeons are angry, livid at the monstrous beings that still lurk here. She doesn't want them to escape, the dungeon. Though, I fear that is what's weakening her... The walls will crumble by the next century if this continues...destroying the mountain with herself." The grim fate settled itself heavily on her shoulders, the creature growling at a burnt-out torch. "When the Madam was here, torches were never unlit. Constantly burning." With an icy breath, a flame ignited. "I've been attempting to learn her secrets so I wouldn't have the chore, though I am no bruixa, just Dragon-Kin," he chuckled.

They continued down a long hall, Tori pricking her attention towards her side. A faucet of water splashed against a small canal, which ran through the hall and down elongated steps. "Anyway, as I was saying," he shook his head, realizing he'd dropped the conversation from before, "the walls move. Every few weeks the wall will block this canal, this whole section -" he motioned to the doorway just behind them "- and I cannot speak to the others. It does the same for Luana at that time. Khaumbach, every few months, will have multiple walls move unexpectedly, sometimes trapping him in a still room if he forgets to avoid the area at that time. Some walls move by the hour, or weekly, monthly, and some years.

"Alike the walls I've mentioned, the stairwells that lead to the last floor are the same. The one at my level had just closed in the past few hours, and will not open again until a decade. The one at Ludhiana's level will not open for a week or two. Khaumbach's, however, will open and close while you are trying to get to it. It opens and closes every few hours." Tori nodded at the very informative collection of information, halting where the Dragon-Kin had. A large pillar stood with a square-cut hole in the center, a metal pipe within it. The pipe, too, bore a hole. "This along with some other walls do not move," the creature scratched his black fur, which Tori noted was streaked with long lines of white and grey.

Clearing his throat, he muttered, "Hello? Ludhiana? Khaumbach? Are you there?" Tapping his fingers along the column, he whispered to his side - like a child would a secret - "At times, it takes a while for them to move. Ludhiana's level has the most vigorous walls. They constantly move, never ending. His life is filled with walking with a fire, black entities, and short naps. Khaumbach's level floods, the pipes for the water broke a century or so ago. He's a terrible swimmer..."

"You try not being able to dry half the time!" an irritable - noticeably more youthful - voice snapped.

"Ah! Khaumbach! Why how are you?" the older Dragon-Kin snickered.

"Shut your pie hole, Sikowitz. I'm still pissed that you sent that rat down," he answered grumpily.

Sikowitz only chuckled, glancing towards the huntress. "Now Khaumbach," he continued sincerely, "another has been sent down to kill a beast."

"What's he doing this time? I swear the last one was a nuisance to deal with," he grumbled, adding, "though he did taste good with the fire."

"You are despicable," the older creature growled.

"Not like you complained." Sikowitz only shrugged, watching the worried expression on Tori's face.

"Like I said, you aren't eating another one of them. That was the last one. You and Ludhiana are dreadful... They need to bury their dead at some point," he retorted. "Anyway, you shall not kill this one. She's different, I believe."

"Oh?"

As Khaumbach began to ask several question, Sikowitz interrupted with, "Well, for one, she didn't run when you described eating the least soul." The Dragon-Kin remained silent, allowing Sikowitz a hearty laugh. Another voice came through the pipe, one that was more mellow and lighter. "Luana? Here to join the fun?"

"Greetings Sikowitz. I just heard of a newcomer," she muttered.

"Yes, she's here to kill a beast."

"What beast? As far as I know, there's a plethora of them," Luana grumbled. Tori shifted in her stance, growing uncomfortable of the conversation; she'd never enjoyed having people talk about her in front of her.

"What is it?" another voice tuned in, more husky than before.

Sikowitz grinned, his long teeth glittering in the light. "Ludhiana! How nice of you to join. We have another warrior here to kill a beast. She wishes to pass you and Khaumbach's chambers in order to use the stairwell on the third level... You know which one I refer to, correct?"

"Of course," both murmured in unison, Luana only listening.

"Well, she will not be any trouble at all, correct?" His glowing eyes surveyed the Bellator, requesting a verbal answer - she knew that much.

"Yes."

"I will help guide her along the level," Ludhiana promised, adding, "it is confusing and requires that of memory."

Sikowitz nodded in appreciation, asking for Khaumbach. "The walls that lead to Ludhiana's floor are blocked, at the moment. I was stuck at them when I heard you call. Some opened for me as others closed, though."

"When will they open?" Sikowitz asked, somewhat worried.

"Oh, they'll open by the time they get through the second level. I will try to get there by that time, though I doubt that is possible... There's a pack of entities that I have to deal with," he hummed. "I will start now, actually. Best if I get rid of them sooner than later." A loud splash was sounded thereafter, Khaumbach's leave known. Silence was blanketed for a few moments, the older Dragon-Kin suspecting that Ludhiana had left as well.

Luana spoke after a minute of waiting. "When will the next rations be sent down?"

"After this little fellow is done. I'd hate to leave and then chaos strikes again," Sikowitz answered. Luana agreed before leaving with a short hum. "Alright, my kin are coming to help you to the last floor. I doubt that Ludhiana will come immediately, though you may walk towards the center piece there," he gestured, "he'll find you."

"Thank you, Sikowitz," she nodded, walking towards the large stairs.

"And I hope the best of luck to you," he smiled before turning around. Once he disappeared in the dark shadows, Tori found the centerpiece he had referred to. Settling beside it, she watched the walls carefully. Each of the sides were worn, marked with movement. However, she didn't suspect for a moment that they were weak. Sighing, she closed her eyes, waiting for the Dragon-Kin to collect her in due time.

. . .

He slithered around the wall, finding a young woman by a small, marble statue of a tree. She was clad with relatively heavy armor, her long ponytail draping over her shoulder. Ludhiana grinned, his fiery fur and black eyes lit in the dim torchlight. "I assume you are the warrior Sikowitz brought to my chambers?" he asked quietly.

She jerked to life immediately, wide eyes towards the Dragon-Kin. Tori breathed softly, replying with, "And I assume you're Ludhiana?" He bowed his head politely, gesturing her to follow.

"The walls will move quickly, now. That area and a few others are unaffected. Come." He wasn't wrong, several times the huntress had to dodge the sliding bricks in order to keep her skin soft and as scar-less as she could. And though she had been clipped by a couple, the creature was pleasantly surprised by her reflexes. "Quickly now, in here," he waved as the walls slowed. Tori felt her limbs scrape another wall as it began to close, leaving the two panting. "Every now and again they will go insane, mix up the dates that a wall would open or close. So instead of this one revealing another passage in a week, it'll do so in a day."

"A-a day? Are we stuck here?"

"Not necessarily, unless you want to use this wall," he tapped the wall he leaned against. "No, we'll go with that one right over there, behind the scratched picture," Ludhiana nodded towards the framed piece. It was hard to tell what the image bore as it had been weathered for too long. "That will open in a few hours, and then the next in another few. There will be a few more halls to pass after that, but nothing too drastic. It will lead you to another, rather unused gate on Khaumbach's end...and that will be closer to the stairwell."

"Alright then," she rested herself against a wall, siding besides the great creature. He smiled happily at the company, constantly looking down at the huntress. She was rather tall compared to her home village, as well as most of the cities she walked with, though the Dragon-Kin made her feel like a measly troll. At the same time, however, they were oddly comforting. "So, how many have come here?"

"Hundreds," he muttered. "We've left the ones searching for a beast as they mean well, though they attack one of us and they pay for it. You understand, right?" Tori nodded. "Though, many also tend to steal what art and weapons and such we have. They pay quickly... Now, from where do you come from?"

"FjordsMarrow," she answered softly. At that, the creature hummed grimly, knowing the fate of her people.

"Bellator, yes?" Tori nodded solemnly. "Your people have suffered too much for their times...and their downfall mirrored that. How many of you are left, if you don't mind my curiosity."

She grinned, mumbling, "It's fine. There weren't many survivors. My sister and a lot of other women work as maids in manors and castles along the Oestemoor borders. Some of the men were alive when I left them, though I do not know if they survived the battles of our war. I am the only woman-warrior left from what I know."

"It's a shame. Your people were too strong to die off so quickly. Though, saying that, I sense you carry the spirit of your people with you. You are the definition, the epitome of your people, yes?" There was no answer, though Tori smiled nonetheless. "My kin also died off quickly too... My brothers and sisters work for the bruixa left, in their dungeons. We owe everything to the madams and lords. Though, the Madam we served was the most powerful of them all - even without her rage."

"How so?"

"Even though they are considered relatively ancient now," he hummed, closing his eyes, "she predated them all. She predated Maytredsworth, King Beck's reign...the Oestemoor borders...the giant's empire. She was born to the dynasty that resided here near to a thousand years ago. And now...we do not know."

"Sikowitz said that she perished three hundred years ago, at the last Carnival," Tori commented.

"Yes...and as unfortunate as the claim is, we do not know. We only predict. We cannot see for ourselves if the souls trapped on the last floor are dead. Perhaps the pipe that we use to communicate with is blocked off by walls, and we do not know. But...we believe that she is dead." He breathed in slowly, opening his black eyes. "We have time...shall I tell you the tale of our kin?" Tori nodded and listened, imagining herself as a small girl at the foot of her grandmother's chair.

Ludhiana was a storyteller at heart, she knew. Many people had told her stories to pass the time, her sister included, though few were able to string words together and invite her into their world.

He told stories of ancient Dragon-Kin heroes defeating the enemy. He told stories of the enemy defeating Dragon-Kin. He described their downfall, and their search of a purpose. Sikowitz was a leader of a new era, searching for a new hope. He was driven mad. Luana, his sister by blood and kin, was born under a blue moon and destined to destroy a great, giant king - she fulfilled that promise. Ludhiana and Khaumbach both sided with her, driving away giants with the help of another kind. The allied giants, he told, once resided in the Oestemoor Dungeons. They, however, are the ancestors of the terrors of the modern age after escaping the dreadful Carnival night. Fordicana had been a slave at birth, saved by Sikowitz and the small, wandering Dragon-Kin village. As their population lessened, their desire and desperation for a home grew. Herpinatious, the guard of the last and lowest chamber, had been a survivor of another tribe. He had found the Madam, and offered the dungeon as a home. Many didn't make the trek, though the few that did grew loyal to the Madam and her home.

Once the wall creaked open, they strolled towards the next wall, sliding against it to share more stories.

Tori delivered the stories that her grandmother gave. Some were of the birth of her people, and others tales similar to her favorite: the beast of the fire kingdom. Ludhiana remained entertained with each story, nodding in eagerness. Eventually, a silence had wedged itself between the two, their eyes wandering around the corridor.

"You hear it too?" Tori whispered quietly.

"Yes, even with my ancient ears," he mumbled. At another time, the small self-jab would've earned a chuckle. "Entities...I think." Tori felt the great-sword at her hip, Ludhiana raising to a crouch. Torches' flames wisped away as a charcoal aroma swarmed the otherwise musky air. "Damn."

Three black figures appeared that the end of the hallway, three pairs of eyes staring at the two. With wicked screeches, they blasted forth. The first leading immediately recoiled as long talons sliced across its face. Ludhiana growled before bashing the small monster against the wall, successfully claiming its life. He twisted around to find the other two dead as another three - who'd apparently joined - snapped at the Bellator.

With a quick fury, she sliced through their flesh, ending them easily. "They have become weaker the longer they stay here, though they're a nuisance in numbers."

"I can agree with that," she grumbled, sliding her blade back to its proper place. The wall behind them opened itself, revealing a mirror image of Ludhiana. He smiled in the hall.

"Greetings brother!"

"Why are you here? Don't you have those entities to deal with?" Ludhiana inquired. Khaumbach - as Tori presumed - shrugged, his green robes notably drenched while Ludhiana's dark blue ones were dried.

"Well, I got them out of mine but - ah - you have some company to deal with." The twin grinned cheekily, Ludhiana groaning. "I'll take her off your hands, brother," he promised.

Ludhiana, sighed, turning towards the huntress. "You really are the spirit of your people, and good company," he complimented.

"Thank-you," she bowed her head before joining the other. As Ludhiana sprinted off to deal with his twin's problems - now his - Khaumbach trotted along the halls with Tori at his heel. They had made their way to the flooded chambers rather quickly, and the Bellator suspected that her trip would have been longer in the other's company. Khaumbach shivered as he dipped himself into the water, Tori easing herself in as well. The Dragon-Kin explained that the path they were to take wouldn't require a whole deal of swimming, though other parts had the floors caved in.

"Luana's always having to block off the water that comes into hers. And because of the pipes, the water is never ceasing," he added. "The stairwell will be around a corner or two. The last level is the smallest of them all, as it was really only built for Madam West and few others if they needed to speak with her. Come now, we must hurry before the walls change again. I'd hate to be soggy forever...I need to get to my chair." Apparently, Khaumbach only had few posts to keep himself dry, the communication pipe and his stone chair being some of the awkward spots.

Tori giggled softly, following the Dragon-Kin as he sifted through the water.

. . .

With torch in hand (Khaumbach had graciously given it to her as a way to dry herself off as she went down past three other floors), the huntress stepped down the stairs carefully, her right hand brushing against her blade's hilt. Her skin felt chills as her body escaped the warm light of the upper floor, diving itself in complete darkness. "Khaumbach wasn't wrong..." she whispered to herself, her steps halting at the landing. Her head twisted around anxiously, eyes darting left and right to find any sort of danger. Unlike the past six floors, none came around the corner or from the ceiling. All was quiet.

All was silent other than the flickering flames in her hands and that fact alone made her feel uneasy, wanting at least a sign of any life.

Tori's brows furrowed curiously, despite her nerves, dark eyes running alongside the rows of torches to the right and some to the left and few forward. The stone bricks along the wall blinked back as the shadows of the torch twitched uncomfortably. The tapestries - which hung long against the stone walls - gazed back wearily, bearing a coat of dust caked onto it. Along the corridor, as far as the light touched, dark eyes saw scattered piles of dust and even some misshapen bricks. She frowned as she looked up; the ceiling too high for any sort of clarification with the torch in her hands.

It was empty, no guard in sight.

Despite her puzzlement, she strode on, constantly glancing at the bricks along the walls. As before, she appreciated this dungeon's fine architecture; it was the best she had seen, considering it had been built centuries ago. Her cloak rustled behind, attention twisting her head left and right along the long corridors. Tori vaguely recalled Khaumbach's comment about this level being the smallest; and as she looked around, the huntress found that he wasn't necessarily wrong in terms of floor space. From where she stood, with the torch flickering in her hand, two of the four halls she at the intersection which she then stood were dead ends with great, marble statues at the ends.

On the left, she saw, was a huge statue of a domesticated cat reaching half the height of the walls. It bore a chain around its neck - more like a necklace, she assumed - with a large, intricately cut jade in the center of a locket. Its eyes gazed straight ahead, the feline's features almost smug with its tail wrapped around the front paws.

Turning to the right was the other marble statue. On a throne sat a man with a great crown with the beginnings of a beard whisking along his jawline and lips. His hair fluffed around the crown which had also presented a gleaming green jewel - even through the dust - in the center. Long robes reached down to his feet beside a long staff that was gripped mightily in his firm grasp. Tori's brows furrowed in thought, her steps nearing the entrance of the hall. The face that the statue shown felt familiar to her, though she couldn't put her finger on it.

Brushing it off, she stalked towards the longest hall, soon finding a flight of stairs that met with each wall. 'This has to be it,' her thoughts blandly concluded, her feet striding down carefully. The stones alike those of the walls were - for the most part - solid with the exception of multiple that were cracked, loose or just a powdered mess. That aside, she eventually made her way to the bottom, a set of huge doors before her, one slightly adjacent to the other. From what she had saw in the fine detail, it was once a beautiful set with the intricate carvings of smoke and fire in the center. Tori's attention was then brought to her right where a stand stood like an awkward crow at a swan's pond; it didn't look as if it belonged but, alike everything else, it was there.

She glanced down at the gauntlet around her left arm before going back to the stand. It was for the same piece of armor, she knew for sure. Curiously, she turned behind her, not yet ready to go into the main throne room. Her brows stitched themselves together, the light of the torch bathing a stone chair - alike the several others - in a warm light. Perplexed, she lowered her light before yelping, promptly crashing into the gauntlet shelf behind her.

With wide eyes, she let the sight before her sink in. Spears dug into the stone, straight through a large skeleton of what was the guard. The skull, with a dagger straight through it, had large jowls with long canine teeth that must have protruded from the mouth. It's spine, held down to the floor with the narrow weapons, was long with great, compact limbs jutting from it, a tail curling against the chair. A silver chain connected to a piece of jade had hung from its neck.

Hesitantly, Tori maneuvered towards the pile of bones with long, torn robes that had once draped the mighty creature. With a firm grip on the first spear - which impaled the guard at the shoulders - she gave a quick heave, successfully tearing the weapon from the ground. The spearhead was then casually wiped with her cloak before she continued, sidestepping into the throne room.

If she had felt uneasy before, it wasn't as magnified as it was then. Her gut twisted as she gazed around, the room engulfed in complete and utter darkness. The huntress' hands brushed against rough stone beside the door, climbing up to what seemed like a bowl. With her assumptions and knowledge of some of the "lower-class" strongholds, her fingers felt around in the bowl, immediately recoiling in surprise.

Her fingers rubbed against each other, a slick substance coating them. She briefly put her nose to it before grimacing, the musty odor filling her nostrils. Once wiping the liquid on her clothes, she put the torch's dying flame to the bowl, a string of fire trailing rapidly across the room. Her eyes followed curiously as it wrapped around the wall on a ledge, meeting the bowl on the left side. She grinned momentarily before the flicking flames vanished, leaving the room to its former dark, bitter atmosphere. Narrowing her eyes towards the floor she couldn't see, Tori grumbled under her breath before startling briefly, warm light bathing the room again.

This time, however, the torches that were placed firmly against the stone bricks above the ledge - the very same the huntress had just lighted - were lit, their flames bigger, giving a warmer light. "Well I'll be," Tori smirked humbly, tossing her own torch away as the fire dissipated, "This dungeon is something of the gods, isn't it?" While within the confines of her wonder, a small frown stitched across her brows as dark, rusted eyes flickered between the shadowy, black marks that had scorched upon the walls. Bricks, too, were cracked and rough.

Her attention made its way off the walls and to the room itself, sending great weariness in her soul. Nothing, nothing, in this dungeon looked as weathered as this room had; even the rooms that were caved in or ransacked didn't look as misshaped. The walls had many boxes propped up against them, creaking a makeshift barrier. A great number of them, however, were in complete disarray. A brick lay crushed just before the few steps leading down into the center, her eyes instinctively gaze up at a block-shaped hole in the ceiling. Feeling nervous, she stepped to the side, not wanting the surrounding bricks to fall, and if the chance were to come, certainly not on her. Right in the center of the room behind a long, stone box was a pile of junk, a long chain surrounding it. Eyes back up to the ceiling where the pile settled underneath, Tori found cracks and a chunk of a brick chipped off.

And then there was that long, casket-like box. She stepped closer, her neck prickling against her chest plate; there was no grim, no powdered stone or even dust coating it. On the sides it bore a lion's head with a heart within its jaws. The long, golden rimmed case almost glimmered in her eyes, coaxing her nearer. With a slow gulp, Tori stepped her way towards it, spear in hand. There was writing along the bottom, snatching her attention. Her eyes skimmed across them - as she had temporarily assumed they were useless - before they went back through. 'No, they aren't useless,' her mind scolded her first impressions.

Even so, she focused on the scratch marks on the corners. It was odd in her mind, her hand grazing over it before the ground. The stone right behind was very gritty, sending chills down her spine at the texture of it. However, to her surprise, the ground that she stood on was smooth as if it was cut and polished only the day prior. Once again the nature of this dungeon had struck her architectural fantasies. Her eyes followed the rough lines leading to the scratched gold, all of the rough stone had some glimmer streaked through as well. The huntress had always known gold to be a soft material, thus favoring other materials for combat. The streaks - once Tori pulled herself from her fantasies - ran behind the box before they dove under the huge pile.

The casket wasn't in the middle of the throne room - if she could even call it that for there were no thrones, nor even chairs, of any kind - but as she observed, if the pile was replaced by it, the casket would've been. Her head twisted to the long box once more, her assumptions gathering that this really was an important piece. Tori looked over the words again, the gears within her skull working through the directions. "Knock once in the center, thrice on the left side of these words, twice on the right of these words then once in the center. Repeat 'javnost' before the first knock and after the last," she read out loud. It was simple enough, she reasoned, standing up.

The huntress gripped the spear more firmly in her hands, expecting a long, tiring battle once the box or casket - whatever it was - opened. "Javnost," she murmured aloud, her first knuckle knocking against the smooth surface in the middle once. Steps darted to the left, three more knocks echoing in the room. Tori then circled around, two more knocks sounding before one, final knock. Hesitantly, she took a step back, "Javnost," slurring from her lips.

With a sudden lurch in the ground, the huntress suddenly feeling uneasy, her eyes widened as the golden box creaked open. A sudden wave of black mist swept across the room, promptly putting out all of the fire before escaping out the doors. Finding herself on her knees, dark eyes blinked rapidly as Tori looked at the box which now emitted a white, god-like light that only lit the small circle around the box, but nothing more. The walls were still dark, her mind flickering at the possibilities of what could be hiding in it, even if Tori had just searched through the room beforehand.

And then she saw it; a softer, dark mist began to materialize, moving gently from the box and the white light. As it came together, long, dark brunette hair soon fell on her bare chest and back, a torso forming as a thin robe draped over her shoulders. The huntress crouched, watching the pale woman's chest become covered, pastel hands gripping the air. Two pairs of gauntlets almost looked as they slipped on, black leather weaved with strong metal sheets that protruded from her hands by a small bit. Tori had concluded that these gauntlets were the same ones stored in the shelf just outside the door. As the woman stepped out, the hunter tensing, the white light behind her faded into nothingness.

Before she could even consider dashing away for some light - though it would now be impossible with a fire-less torch - Tori staggered back abruptly, a mane of fire flickering along the woman's forearm. Though her features were slightly distorted from the moving light, the only thought that flashed through Tori's mind was, 'Beautiful...' Her pale skin showed no scars, unlike the huntress, and her features were strong with a gentle edge. And though it was her eyes that kept Tori still. Her eyes - as pale as the moon's reflection in a lake - pierced through dark, rusted ones without blinking, the fire in the corner of them. They were like nothing the Bellator had ever seen before.

And then the fire dispersed, a small part of each flying towards a torch, igniting the room in a brighter light from before. The woman, standing straighter and taller than the armored hunter, tilted her head to the side, eyebrow raising out of curiosity.

Neither moved. Neither spoke.

I know I said I wouldn't put many of these on this story, but it's short: I do heavily apologize for the lack of updating. I find it astounding that I didn't sooner, especially since I really like this one, it's been eight months, and have a load of plans for it. The next chapter will soon be up today, as well.

Anyway, hope you enjoyed still!

:)