A Dungeon to Each Their Own

~Part I: Dungeons of Oestemoor~

~The Horse and King~

No One's Perspective-

With the morning sun rising to day, many townsfolk nulled on through their errands. Some gave curious brows to the pair once Madam West had suddenly hunched over. She groaned, leaving Tori very confused and conscious of the public eyes. "What's wrong?" she asked through a quick hiss.

Pale eyes narrowed. "I'm hungry. The damned bakery is making it worse." The woman clutched her stomach, groaning sourly; when she had first been awakened from the dreadful coffin, the lurking ache in her stomach had been just that - an ache. By the time she had shouldered her proper attire, the brawl had left her starved. The Madam watched Tori for a moment as she continued strolling through the town, her pace slow in consideration. She wondered just how long she would've truly lasted, even if she believed herself to be infinitely more powerful.

And then there were the racking, mocking laughs bellowed with the Bellator digesting some dirt. It was only when the huntress pushed herself from the ground did Madam West feel the sharp pain to her abdomen. It was the worst pain she had felt in a long time - several centuries. And she'd fought in a dastardly war with a spear to each hip.

Her mouth was also parched, driving her that much more insane.

"Well...we'll get something. Just - we must get to Lord Mortimer. I can try to speak with him."

The woman glowered, sneering, "Try?"

"I will, I will," Tori groaned. Her eyes trailed to the side, finding the Madam crumpled to her stomach once again. She knew the feeling of starvation, where your body eats at everything it can to salvage any energy available. A month was the worst and longest time.

She couldn't imagine anything more than a year, let alone nearly three centuries.

"This way, come on," she mumbled gingerly, reaching for the woman's shoulder. Tori frowned once she was swatted away. Madam West stood, giving a quick glare.

"I can do it."

Tori sighed before leading her into the lord's house. Lord Mortimer was just down the hall when she crept in, the bruixa right behind her. "Ah! You came...you actually came back! Did you kill the beast?" he greeted with immense joy, curiously staring at Madam West.

"Yes, I did," the Bellator managed. "And, uh, and I saved this woman here who was trapped with it." Madam West nodded quietly, a hand still gripping her stomach.

"Ah, greetings missus," Lord Mortimer murmured with a smile. The Madam gave a weary smile, if only to be polite. "Is anything wrong?"

"We're just hungry. Could we talk over a small meal?"

Lord Mortimer nodded. "Of course! I was actually preparing a little something for myself, but I'll set out some more plates. Come along!" The women followed him into a room, clad with a small dining table with plates of breads, cheeses and meats. As he set down the needed dishes, they sat down and murmured their thanks. "Yes, of course," he said, in his own seat. "You can dive in. My wife and daughter really out-do themselves. You can have as much as you need."

"Thank-you," Tori said graciously as the Madam nodded in agreement. She couldn't speak with the potatoes in her mouth.

The man chuckled as he watched the ancient woman eat, taking a bite from a piece of bread. "Now, here's your pay, as promised," he muttered, handing Tori a sack of coins. She thanked him before he continued; "While you were in there...in the dungeon, did you notice anything odd?"

Tori gulped as Madam West paused. "Define odd. It really is a blanketed term."

"I suppose so. Anything unusual. Like a- a mist."

"Yes, I did. I was at the lowest level," the huntress explained. As she made to add on, Tori grunted at the sharp stamp on her foot and the loud crunch of a bread crust. The Madam shot her a warning glare. Tori didn't say anything.

"Anyway..." the lord sighed, leaning back in his chair. "There's been strange things goin' on since you went into that dungeon, Missus Vega-Bellator," he explained, "some dark...vile things." Tori paused as she sipped on her glass, Madam West with three bread dumplings in her mouth.

As the ancient woman chewed beside her, the huntress asked, "What things exactly?"

"Well, for starters, early on this morning there was that great mist, a great shadow that blasted from the dungeon. It was...it was like nothing I have ever seen before." He glanced towards the long painting behind him dramatically; it was just as gruesome as those in the other room, from what Tori could remember. "Not alive anyway..." He gestured towards the black smoke that laced the picture of the town.

"You mean like the Beasts of Black?"

He nodded, though grumbled, "But this isn't a Beast in Black, my friend." The two women furrowed their brows. "This...this is the queen of them."

"The queen?"

The Madam had swallowed her dumplings with an arch of a brow. Lord Mortimer nodded slowly. "Why...yes. I believe it is the same wretched being who's been haunting the Oestemoor lands for thousands of years now. Well, while the beast isn't her, it surely was led by the same." He frowned, watching the Madam carefully. "How much do you know of who the queen was?"

Madam West worked her jaw. "Who are you talking about? The Guardia who led the dungeons or the one responsible for the destruction of it?"

The Lord shook his head, the huntress leaning forward curiously. "They are one in the same, missus... The Guardia who raised the dungeon from the mountain betrayed the town. No spirit has been able to leave from her clutches...people writhe from the diseases spread from the forests. Entities lurk within the trees."

"Who. Are. You. Talking. About?" the woman spat acidly, each word forced from her mouth. The man shifted wearily, his eyes flicking across the room nervously. Lord Mortimer licked his lips before clearing his throat.

"Aglæca."

Tori felt uneasy at the sudden dip in silence, the woman beside her forcing her gaze to her plate. The lord only coughed before continuing. "She- Her name isn't to be spoken. But yes, her. It has been said that on the night of Carnival, fifteenth Year of Wolf. As the town celebrated, she sent down demons and entities to destroy all of them," he grumbled to Madam West, fiddling with his hands. "Many have tried to go into the dungeon and find the wicked Guardia -" the Bellator watched the woman beside her, eyes growing livid as hands fidgeted "- to put an end to this terrible curse put on the city." Lord Mortimer sighed, tapping his fingers on the table. "But now that the beast is gone...I expect she'll be back."

The huntress - at the sound of delicate cracking - immediately snapped her gaze towards the glass of wine. Veins began to splinter throughout it.

"I'm afraid with the war, I won't be able to protect this town well. But...perhaps I could send put a draft in motion."

The cracks ran to the sides, whistling softly. Nervously, Tori flicked her gaze quickly towards the burning torches, the flames curling around the iron holdings.

Lord Mortimer shook his head once again. "Damn this demon, I can't do anything if she still is here."

"Lord!" Tori snapped, hurling herself with a bowl - the fruit tossed across the table - before smacking it over the glass. It shattered underneath the dish as other, terrible crackles sounded behind her. She winced, feeling shards slice against her cheek. As the lord remained frightfully puzzled, Madam West stood from her spot.

"Thank-you for your information," she grunted curtly, "but I believe we best start off on our own journey."

The weary man blinked around the room with his grey eyes, watching the flames calm themselves. "She-she's here." Tori shuffled off the table, carefully removing a piece of glass from her cheek before glaring at the rows of handles, wine splattered around them in a ring. At the doorway, the huntress looked back at the man as he stood. "Uh, I thank you, Vega-Bellator. I must say, you're reflexes- I-I've never seen anything like that."

"My people had a knack for it," she answered calmly. "You're welcome." Within minutes, she found herself racing to catch up to the Madam, her teeth grinding. "What in the name of Graun was that?" Tori spat.

Madam West merely glanced to her side. "Aglæca is a wretched name. I never fucking betrayed anyone!" she snarled. Her cold, ruthless eyes snapped to Tori's. "Do you understand why I need the gems in my gauntlet? To control what I haven't been able to for many, many years."

"What, your temper?"

"Don't start with me," the Madam snapped, "you know nothing about any sorcery, do you?" Tori pursed her lips before halting, glaring at the woman's shoulders as she stalked away. The huntress couldn't say that Madam West was wrong, though her cheek still stung.

. . .

Tori stretched before looking at the trees around her. The sun dazzled through the leaves, leaving the ground with an array of splotched sunlight. She turned to her side and found the Madam awake and alert. "Did you sleep?"

Madam West turned to her with an arched brow. "I've been sleeping for centuries. I don't need it now." She sighed and got to her feet. "Anyway, now that you've had your little nap, why don't we go and actually do something?"

Tori rolled her eyes before following the Madam, who quickly lead the two towards the dungeon. It had been nice sleeping under the stars, Tori thought, skipping a step of the long staircase, though the Madam appeared to think otherwise. She was restless, and the huntress couldn't see why not; after all, if she'd been asleep for years - let alone centuries - Tori would be peeved as well. It wasn't long until they reached the top, a circle of Dragon-kin greeting them. The twins stood with red hair shining in the sun, watching over the landscape whilst three others scooted inside, a plate of a meal in their hands. An older, greying Dragon-kin turned and gave what could've been a smile. "I see you are back, and with a pocket full of coins, yes?"

Tori grinned as Madam West sighed. "Hello, Sikowitz," she greeted. He bowed lightly before turning towards the other woman.

"Madam, I assume this will be quick?"

"Of course."

He grumbled, leaning against the wall. "There was another mist while you were in there, you know... Why would that be?"

Madam West only frowned before looking towards Tori. The Bellator cleared her throat. "I found her in a casket, or some coffin. When I opened it...well, some wind knocked me down and took out the torches. Would that be what you saw?"

"Indeed." His long talon scraped against the wall slowly. "I worry, Madam. It did not speak good fortunes. I fear there's still a fight that hasn't yet been fought properly." The woman only nodded softly, though the topic was dropped. "Anyway," he continued, "the gems. They dispersed across the Oestemoor lands. Now, if I were you, I'd ask King Beck. There's been stories that the beasts went together towards his kingdom before going in different directions. There was a brawl, too, so I wouldn't doubt his credibility...if you know what I refer to."

"Yes... Is it the same way as before?"

Sikowitz nodded. "And another thing... Tori, do you have a steed?"

"Lord Mortimer gave me one as part of his offer. It's still in the stables," she answered.

"Good... Madam, follow me." Both the women furrowed their brows before jogging down the stairs, keeping track of his swift paces. It seemed as if the Dragon-kin merely floated down. There were no words pressed as they reached the edge of the forest, dark shadows lurking just from the initial rows of trees. "Come on out," he whispered, chirping softly. Sikowitz turned towards the Madam. "He turned up just after the mist, to your service again."

She paused as she reached his side, small pattering sounding from the brush. A genuine smile crept along her lips. "Loyal Adalwin," Madam West breathed.

A black stallion stood, pale eyes glimmering excitedly as he snickered. No saddle lay on top of his back, though a long, gold chain hung around his neck, a jade locket to his chest. The breeze sifted through his graceful - though bushy - mane and tail. Tori studied him, comparing the brute of a horse to her own steed; Adalwin looked as if he was the strongest, proudest horse there was. And by the way he stepped towards his companion, nuzzling against the Madam's shoulder, she saw nothing contradicting that.

"Come on," the Madam turned towards the huntress, "we must go South."

. . .

Tori took in the brisk air, and exhaled as the market around her stirred with daily commotion. She turned to the Madam, who analyzed everything with a fine gaze. "Is it...like how it was back then?"

Madam West looked towards the huntress. "I wouldn't know. When I first came across these lands, they were just fields. The kingdom was built after...some things. I never got the chance."

The huntress nodded, then began to maneuver her way through the small cluster of people before reaching the gate. "Oh, hello Ryder." A man with brilliant, blue eyes and raven hair turned to her, his armor whining.

"Hello there, Tori," he murmured with a pleasant smile. "Back to see the king?" She nodded. "With...a guest?"

"She's well accounted for, believe me," Tori assured. "Is King Beck available?"

Ryder nodded. "Should be. He just got back meeting with the giants' emperor and...it didn't go as well as hoped."

"Ah... I see." Madam West frowned as Tori sighed, "Well, can we still get in and wait?" Ryder nodded, and opened a small door to his side. "Thank-you." The two both slid in, finding themselves in a narrow hallway that lead to an open courtyard.

"Giants have an emperor?"

Tori glanced over her shoulder before narrowly avoiding an incoming guard. "Well...yeah. A lot changed after the last Carnival, Madam. The giants that left your dungeons fled and started to establish a small community on an island to the southwest. They were good, really good for Oestemoor. But...the one now and before, well, they aren't kind. At all."

"Whoa! Stay back now!"

The two women froze at the sudden wave of arms, a man jumping from the corner. "You two need to stay back! Ain't no woman allowed!" Tori arched her brow before the claps of hooves against the stone ground. There was a loud, bellowing roar - cross between a man and a whinny - before groups of men grunted and swore. The women curiously leaned forward before jumping back. Ropes slithered roughly against the men's hands, rubbing off skin as the dark shadow tossed and turned. "See!? No women-"

"It's not us, you bastard!" Madam West snarled. "He can smell! Take the damn wine away from the stand!" The man stood there, baffled in his grey robes before looking over his shoulder. He chuckled weakly, giving an apology before stripping the glasses from the stands. Once the liquor was carried off and the man back in his place, the hooves stomped closer to the corner. The bruixa put her hand before Tori, pushing the two back. "We can't be that close to a centaur," she hissed, the Bellator nodding in agreement.

The dark shadow flickered as the large figure came around the corner, dust billowing from the iron helmet's sockets. Two glowing eyes snapped towards the two women, the centaur rearing as Madam West continued to watch him closely. His tan skin blended gently against his raven-colored coat, white specking along his horse-like body. "Easy now, sire! Easy!" the man in the grey cloak barked, stepping in front of the women. "Just go in! It's only the bounty hunter and her guest!"

"Guest NOTHING!" the centaur snarled with an estranged voice. "She's supposed to be DEAD!" The man - once again baffled - glanced towards the bruixa before grinning weakly.

"Come on now, sire," he pleaded, "they're guests... Talk to them when you have a clear head." The centaur snorted, though reluctantly stepped towards the tall doors, obeying the ropes around his waist, arms and legs. With a final slam, the hall was left only to the sound of flickering flames, the tired men slumping against the wall.

Madam West stepped forward. "What happened?"

"Hmm?" The man turned towards the doors. "Oh, nothing. The king wanted to make a deal with the giants before even considering war."

"Wait," Tori stepped towards the man. "Tug, we spoke to Ryder briefly and...is this land -"

"For Oestemoor, don't worry," the man - Tug - replied. "It's not neutral ground anymore, as you can see..." There was a knock on the door. A couple of men cracked it open before murmuring, looking towards the women.

One cleared his throat. "Uh...missuses," he slurred, "'e wants ta see ye' now." Madam West followed Tori as they were lead into a large throne room, a man in a simple robe in the corner. He was placing a crown carefully on his head as the two - with the rest of the men - strolled in, replacing the helmet on a stand.

He turned around, his kind eyes contradicting the glaring stare from the hallway. He pursed his lips into a weary smile, waving to shut the doors. The man - presumably the king - stood before the women, his long, fluffy hair curling around his crown with waves of copper, silver and black. He swallowed, barely able to catch his breath as he continued to stare at Madam West.

King Beck sunk to his knees, hands against the ground to a bow.

All around the room, the men stood awkwardly, eyes shifting until there was a firm command: "Bow." Slowly, Madam West watched as they went to their knees, eyes drifting to her. She scowled as armor clinked beside her.

"Not you," she spat, yanking Tori off her knees. Her hand was only swiped away from the Bellator. "And you, get up. You're a king for fuck's sakes!"

King Beck's lips curled to a tight smile before he looked up. His eyes looked miserable as he asked, "How...how are you alive? How... Where were you all this time?"

He grimaced once pale eyes narrowed, the Madam's lips pulling to a sneer. "Where was I all this time..." she echoed slowly, each word deadpanned. "Where was I all this time?" Her voice was louder, bouncing off of the stone walls as the torches - high and proud - flickered. "How about," she snarled, stepping forward as weapons clinked and slid from their sheaths. "How about: Where were you all this time!?" King Beck immediately got to his feet, stepping back from the furious woman. "I WAS TRAPPED IN MY OWN FUCKING DUNGEON, THAT'S WHERE!" Madam West roared, the flames along the walls snaking towards the ceiling with an angry burst of life. The men and Tori gasped at the livid energy of them, Madam West's hands balling to fists. "AND WHERE WERE YOU BUT SITTING ON THIS DAMN THRONE!"

"I SEARCHED EVERY SINGLE CORNER OF THE DUNGEON, OKAY?!" the king screamed back. The room suddenly went quiet, the flames of the torches calming just subtly. The Madam furrowed her brows. "I searched and searched and searched and... I didn't find anything. Not before the floors caved in-"

"What?"

"So," he continued, "where have you been all this time?"

Madam West paused before answering in a icy voice, "In a golden coffin in the middle of my throne room."

King Beck swallowed as his expression grew stricken. "Y-you really were in that?" He stepped forward, reaching out his hand. "J-Jade-"

"No," she spat, slapping the gesture away. "You saw it?"

"Yes...I-I did. We tried everything. I got twenty witches and thirty warlocks to open it but, but they all died doing it. I tried to move it but, I couldn't open it. And- And then the floors collapsed and I couldn't get down with all of my men so I... Please, forgive me Jade. I never wanted to leave you..." He went to his knees once again, the suddenness coating his eyes and softening his skin.

It was then when Tori took in a deep breath, eyes shifting between the two.

She knew the statue looked familiar. It was King Beck - far earlier in his reign. The Bellator felt her cheeks warm once he got to his feet, recalling that behind the statue was the entrance to the bedroom.

"Get up..." Madam West - Jade - growled weakly.

King Beck got to his feet, brushing off his robe. "There is a lot we must talk over... Stay, for dinner, please. I can tell you everything you need."

The bruixa glanced towards the Bellator before slowly nodding. "Fine. But dinner and that's it. We won't stay for longer." The king pursed his lips before nodding slowly, looking to his men.

"Open the doors, and get the chefs."