Fantasy ┌ spellsword ┘ Amaric Temple

The paladin stood dead still, a glowering fist close to his heart, his focus unbroken even after Heleni had addressed him. The only acknowledgement came from the thousands of starry, unblinking wisps turning toward her in unison, widening like dilating pupils as they silently scanned her. A whirring, low rumble echoed within the astral projection that hovered over his shoulders. Leonel’s brow ticked down, then the projection faded away entirely.

He saw nothing. At most, he caught a glimpse of the purity in everyone’s souls. Aside from that, there didn’t seem to be anything inherently evil in the room with them.

“Not long.” — Leonel finally replied to Heleni, lowering his guard. The constant flittering of the moth’s wings still had him on edge, but he knew at least there was no immediate danger — “There’s nothing here. Nothing at all.”

He pointed an index at one of the glowing orbs he’d set around the moonstones, waving them off to the surrounding walls. Some moths followed Espel’s light to circle around it, others were too engrossed in their dance to even care about them. Leonel sheathed his sword, a begrudging, almost exasperated grumble forming on his throat. He would still have to touch some moths to get to the moonstones, after all.

Hell, he figured even the moths themselves had their own value for their silk. The unborn larvae, at least. Stooping down to stuff some cocoons into his bag wasn’t out of the question, to his dismay. Leonel had to bite his tongue not to curse himself under his breath the moment he noticed Symphony had the exact same idea.

No use moaning and complaining.

The lion walked over to the swarm, trying no to make a face as he swatted his way through them to the crystals, instinctively holding his breath out of an irrational, childish fear in the back of his mind telling him that one of the moths may end up flying into his mouth. He started shoving the stones into his bag, some uncooperative moths here and there following along, his disgust barely showing through the poker face he put on — “So, how valuable are these things exactly, Stonehart?”

Shotgunpenguin · Mar 20, 2025

LOCATION—Amaric Temple (7th floor - Room of Surprise)
DATE—Early Summer
TIME—11:27

Lucas Decovo

Level 3 | Alchemist/Supporter
Status: Concerned
~~Ki Points~~ ~~4/4~~
Spell Slots
Lvl. 1 1/2
Lvl. 2 1/1

TAGS

The Regal Rper

Daddy Dream @Megilagor

As Malikron struck the hind of the stuck spider, earning a high pitched hiss of pain, Lucas’s attention was turned by the sound of a different cry of pain, that being from one of their own. Fighting back the urge to cough from the burning sensation still wreaking havoc in his lungs, he glanced over as Roika was quickly making her way towards himself and Malikron. ‘Dammit, she got bit.’ The female elf quickly positioned herself a small ways behind Lucas, the offending spider that had bitten her having been rooted to the spot as it ferociously attempted to free itself and move in to claim its prey.

Blaming himself for letting a delver get hurt on their first dive could come later, and it would be coming. But for now, he had to take steps to try and help Roika. Despite the pained expression and deep flush to her face, the fact that she was still able to move despite being injected with the thief spiderlings venom meant that she either had a resistance to it, or that the juveniles venom wasn’t as powerful as a fully grown spider’s would have been. Regardless, he had no guarantee that the effects wouldn’t become more apparent the longer it circulated through her system. “Roika, can you still fight?”

His tone was short and to the point, inviting a quick and concise answer from the elf. Her answer would determine their course of action, of whether they would be fighting defensively to cover a retreat from the room of surprise; or if they would go on the offensive, attempting to finish off the spiderlings as quickly as possible. While the former would mean missing out on the potential treasures that a double room may contain, treasure was only worth something if you survived to use it.

After striking his blow, Malikron swiftly moved away from the injured spider, moving instead to focus on the one that had injured Roika. He rushed past Ake, who was still demonstrating his peak physicality as he slung his axes around with equal parts of grace and brutality, before Lucas tore his eyes away. He had his own spiderling to worry about, one that despite being momentarily stuck still posed a threat. “God's damn, you better know what you’re doing.” He muttered to himself, before focusing on the task at hand.

The spiderling in front of him was slowly recovering from its stunned state, its remaining eyes coming back into focus as it let out another hiss and attempted to lunge at the duo, only to find itself still stuck to the ground from Lucas’s concoction. It wouldn’t hold it for long however, as its attempts to strike at them were accompanied by the sound of ripping fur; the hairs on the bottom of its body that were stuck being torn off with little effort. Thankfully its legs proved more durable as they remained rooted to the ground, but it wouldn’t hold forever.

He couldn’t take the beast down with his bare hands, he lacked the physicality and the means to kill the creature with his style. Flowing stream wasn’t designed to kill, only to incapacitate and disable an attacker. Lucas very much doubted that his master intended for it to be used against wild beasts relying on pure hunger and instinct. Without knowing what would work and what wouldn’t, using his alchemical creations was a guessing game that he didn’t have the time to play; leaving one option.

His eyes darted down to where his quarterstaff lay on the ground, having impacted off of the spiderling when he threw it in order to give himself space to step back. Pushing out his leg, he pressed down on the middle of the shaft with his foot, pulling back and rolling it backwards onto the tip of his other foot. Kicking it up into the air, Lucas snatched the weapon in one hand before bringing the end of it to bear towards the spiderling. His other hand quickly joined his first, gripping onto the shaft as he prepared to strike.

Small strikes would only cause more problems, he would have to kill it in one blow or risk another shower of irritating fur. Bracing his feet on the floor, he reared back with his quarterstaff before surging forward and thrusting the steel capped end directly into one of the creature's burst eyes, intending to pierce through the wound and scramble whatever passed for its brain.

Sir Les Paul · Mar 20, 2025

LOCATION—Amaric Temple (7th floor), Room of Surprise
DATE—07/02 | Early Summer
TIME—1142

The poison that came from Primal Rend would prove unnecessary from Malikron once he had transformed. His elongated claws, much like the axe head from Ake, were enough to tear open and asunder the exoskeleton of the arachnid that had attacked Roika. His attacks were not as swift or definite as the Goliath, though. Malikron may have grown stronger as a Dire Wolf, but that did not mean Ake could be compared to such. He had of course fought off plenty in his frozen homeland. The difference in how easily the arachnid was dispatched was fairly obvious. Malikron needed his dagger like claws to rip them apart, sending their inner white ooze of blood-like material flying into the air with his messy swipes. Ake needed merely bring down the full force of his axe, which could crack through the exoskeleton with ease and rip right back out of it.

It was no wonder the entire Goliath race were known as fierce warriors. The natural advantage here almost seemed unfair.

This was more than likely the sentiment of none more than Lucas. Despite his skill with the bow staff and strength from training in martial ways, some of that strength had faded by his difficulty breathing. A huff and a puff stole some of his might, not to mention his time as an alchemist instead of a warrior. Still, he was in fact able to burst the black eye of the arachnid he was facing off against, impregnating the endcap of his staff into its skull. It just wasn't enough to kill it. The arachnid made a horrific screeching sound, as distressed as it could, but in truth it was a tone that the creature ought never utter. Thief Spiders were solitary by nature and communicate more through dance than noise. It only made this sound due to the foreign object implanted by Lucas.

In its distress, it fought not only against Lucas, but against the foam that bound it. Now panicked more than starved, the creature had mostly freed its limbs from the restraints, but could not easily attack due to the weapon in its skeletal socket. This left Lucas in a veritable tug of war match with the spider, all while he could feel his lungs aflame and body afoul by the fur he had taken in.

With the most recent arachnids slain by Malikron and Ake, a rough estimate would show that about half of the spiders had been slain, assuming they could all be seen. Roika who was assessing the situation would likely best know this, given her attention was on the battlefield - only split by the growing burning sensation in her hand. Still, given the relative ease Ake and Malikron could kill these spiders, it might not have seemed like a problem.

Unfortunately, it would be.

While Ake was making his conversation with Malikron, a new reality was upon them. They had let some of the remaining spiders feed. This, in turn, meant they were no longer as feeble or as desperate. Ake would find himself surprised by the new speed of one of such arachnids, lucky that it did not strike with a piercing blow. Instead, of shoved him backward with such force that it could push the Goliath damn-near against the wall. Had he been a smaller man, like Lucas, he would have bounced off the stone wall with his breath stolen from him. Yet again, his stature was a blessing.

The now-fed arachnids were faster and stronger, it seemed. Ake now faced off with one, but he was no longer able to so easily read its movements. The fur on its legs and its erratic movements made it harder to see any pattern to them and now that it was moving more, it only worsened the situation. It would lunge at him, a bite aimed for his torso, then back off out of range. A feint. A new tactic they did not display in their desperation. It was trying to create an opening.

Meanwhile, three more spiders crawled out of the water after their aquatic feast. Just as strong, just as empowered, their eyes were set on Lucas and Roika. Clearly the weakest of the group with Lucas stuck in his staff-based grappling match with his first arachnid and Roika seemingly helpless behind him. This was not to say that Malikron was ignored, quite the opposite. Two of those three spiders became a vanguard, trying to protect the third from the Dire Wolf while it went in for the kill on Lucas. In just a few more seconds, it would have a potentially lethal spider fang headed his way.

The only creature ignored was the reanimated spider. While the first desperate arachnids would dare to attack it, these newly refreshed ones did not. Instead, it was met by another Thief Spider from the waterfront with curiosity. Young and naïve, it knew not what was wrong with its kin in front of it, but it did know it was in the way of Ake, who it wanted to flank with the other spider that was attacking. Unless willed by Roika, this put it in a type of stand-off with her reanimated spider.

At the very least, this looked to be all of the spiders unless more were hiding in the shadowy portion of the room. None in the group had Dark Vision to truly see and Malikron had not the time in his form to smell them out, even if he could. Nonetheless, even if there were more in the shadows, they would be of the weaker, starved variety. What was left in front of them was likely the last of this fight, if they could finish it out.

Daddy Dream @Megilagor

The Regal Rper

Shotgunpenguin

SCP-0029 · Mar 21, 2025

LOCATION—Amaric Temple
DATE—07/04 | Early Summer
TIME—1030

Vaelithra Velaryth

Level o1 | Frontline Class
Status Annoyed & Exasperated

Spell Slots
Lvl. 1 1/1
Pact 2/2

TAGS

“Did your father also teach you to give white lies when you apologize, or was that something you taught yourself?” Something in her jaw clicked, eyebrows furrowed as she processed the audacity of the demi-human with an incredulous expression. She hadn’t believed Leander lied, yet for some reason Cole did.

With the dynamic between Leander and Cole being precarious enough, Cole’s audaciousness was hardly a recipe for a smooth expedition. Then again, it wasn’t as if the ruby-eyed dungeoneer had struck first, for he had been harped on by the lot shortly before he scorned them.

So it didn’t come as a surprise, for there it was—that thrum of deep and primal power that coiled, and crackled to life in his grasp, before Leander’s hand released it with a thunderous growl. There was a familiar chill as the air shivered, charged with something volatile, right as blinding light ripped through the dimness of the hallway. Lightning seared the stone in its path, and the acrid scent of charred rock lingered in the air.

She heard Cole shift, felt the weight of his skepticism settle into the space between them. He had nearly gotten hit by the man’s cantrip, and like the hairs on his tail, Vaelithra was on edge.

This incantation felt like a warning, or rather a declaration, for it felt like Leander presumed himself inherently superior, his arrogance laced in the arcane words: “Fulmen-telum.”

As Vaelithra’s eyes adjusted to the fading light, ears drumming, something unexpected stirred within her—a quiet surge of power. The area around her was significantly colder, like the distant north was seeping into Amaric Temple, leaving traces of its cold footprint behind. And then there was the intensity of those red eyes, and how he proclaimed himself ‘the spectacle’ sent something bristling within her. The scorn didn’t miss her, and it wasn’t what he said, but how he said it.

“Hope expending that energy doesn’t bite you in the ass,” she eventually heard the demi-human say.

Snapping her gaze away, Vaelithra found herself regarding Cole, visibly taking in his appearance, and trying to learn what the contortion of his face might have meant. He sounded annoyed, and he wasn’t hit. She believed Leander’s reaction was justified, but it was good he hadn’t been hit. In the short time she had known Cole, he seemed alright, and she would hope so since they will be working together to clear floors. However, that’s not to say she cared for him, so much as she would prefer that nobody gets injured before they actually make any progress.

Eventually, if not the storm brewing under those deft hands, then surely a northern frost bite would.

Speaking of, Lumina—ever the pragmatic one—stepped in with a sharp edge to her words, her tone laced with a cold finality as she did her best to keep them from tearing each other apart. Vaelithra agreed with her as she was determined to move forward rather than measure her temper against theirs, and certain things were uncalled for. Even when Lumina threatened to go back the way they came, only to smooth things over with dry humor, Vaelithra stilled. It was as if hearing thunder in a snowstorm for the first time, unsure if she had heard it, and waiting for the weight of the silence to confirm it.

From the hilt of her sword to the tips of her boots, frost coated the snow elf in scattered, uneven patches. For the snow elf it wasn’t fear that kept her in place, nor was it awe. It was the quiet realization that both men had proven something essential. Rather than careless they were, “Reckless.” The word escaped her like fallen snow, silver eyes darkening to teal as she regarded both men with something sharper than disapproval; reading them like a map she wasn’t certain she’d need, but kept anyway.

It wasn’t the urge to provoke that settled in her chest. It was the habit of assessing threats, of keeping tabs on fractures before they became fault lines. Cole’s posture, Leander’s eyes, the tension that crackled between them because it all said enough. There was no need to press further. Not yet. Instead, she pivoted sharply on her heel, giving her back to two men she already knew she’d have to watch.

Not trust. Watch.

Her pace was measured, each step a quiet severance from the tension behind her. She spared neither of them a glance. Even when she trailed after Lumina, she allowed herself a final, fleeting look back with unreadable cold finality. It was neither a warning, nor a challenge.

Inhale. Exhale. No words. No wasted breath, for she had nothing worth saying. Although, with another turn, a soft mutter, dry as winter wind escaped her as she said, “Ice preserve me.”

The Regal Rper · Mar 23, 2025

Malikron | Amaric Temple, 4th Floor

Skinwalker

Wha--?

A very confused canine head tilt was the only reasonable response that Malikron could give Ake for the brief window his attention wasn't still occupied as more spiders joined the fight. It was brief, confused, but from the way the giant had spoken he just became more cautious towards him for speaking to him in that manner at all.

He had no idea what a Skin walker was, maybe it was a shapeshifter like a Changeling from how Ake had said it? In the current state of affairs, he decided not to pay it much more mind as long as Ake didn't turn the disdain in his voice into an action against him. If anything, all he did was just raise Malikron's guard.

The druid turned to the array of spiders defending their injured ally and eyed their movement. With his claw spell still active, Malikron moved cautiously. He had caught the sight of Ake getting shoved back by one of the spiders, and was aware these ones that had been eating in the pool had just basically gotten a energy boost. Speed like that wasn't a joke especially as the two were playing defense for the injured one.

Malikron decided to merely blitz forward, going in for a slashing swipe on one, while gauging the reaction of the other two, ready to give it a savage bite with his jaws if it moved in to take advantage of his movement. At the same time he also made ready to use another spell as he attacked.

Mentions:

Shotgunpenguin @Megilagor

Daddy Dream

Interactions: n/a

Sir Les Paul · Mar 24, 2025

LOCATION—Amaric Temple (6th floor)
DATE—07/06
TIME—0948

The stone door behind them slid shut, moving of own volition before sealing itself entirely. An odd, inexplicable sensation came with it. The room, the cavern they were just in, was gone. The door shutting somehow held both a physical and symbolic gesture. Not clear on if some absurd amount of force or magic could burst through it and if so would what they just experienced be there. The Dungeon—no, the Temple—proved itself a mercurial force. Ever-changing, constantly shifting, and perhaps even evolving.

The group had successfully acquired the floating moonstones and countless cocoons of silk, many still containing larvae, many half-ruined from their digestive saliva. The logistics of mining the glowing quartz resulted in it being left behind. Though it could have added value, that value against what could be their time and effort was deemed not worth it. It didn't help that Markus wasn't exactly being helpful about acquiring it, mostly due to his background with the church. Perhaps some type of rigging to create a pulley system to hoist up Symphony to mine it was possible, but Markus wasn't exactly being forthright about the equipment he had on him or helping to brainstorm for it.

It wasn't as if Heleni or Leonel were applying any pressure, either. A light that wasn't blessed by Espel was surely some type of an abomination.

The group moved on to the next door down the line. Their role was as simple as that. No other group had came by to take a door and this one wasn't marked, so it was another attempt at a Room of Surprise. The party had thus far had a fairly challenging and more unique combat encounter in their first day in the Dungeon with the mossmen. Their second encounter was more lackluster, but still profitable. Split five ways, what they looted from that room was still likely as much as a laborer's monthly wages, perhaps less depending on the market. Even if they were not honing their skills, it at the least was not a complete waste of time.

Given there was no lesson learned from the last encounter, there was no reason to switch up party dynamic. Leonel would lead them into the next room. The door opened to utter blackness. Inky, thick, deep. It was unlike the cavern where there was some natural source of light, unlike the hallways which had least had dim ambient lightning, and even unlike the room they fought the mossmen in; right out the gate, even Leonel at the head could not see further than a few feet into the blackness. It was even as if the faint light from the hallway refused to take step into the room.

What came next would depend entirely on the next actions of Leonel.

GM Note
The previous Room of Surprise has been auto-resolved and we are now starting the next. Assume Markus holds all loot. I have not yet made a map for this room because the characters have no means to see where they are or what they're doing. Leonel will be the first in post order and his actions may result in a GM quick response for reactions. The game is on.

Haze- · Mar 24, 2025

LOCATION— Amaric Temple (6th Floor)
DATE— 07/06
TIME— 0948

⚜ Leonel Blackmane ⚜

Level 2 | Guardian-Paladin
Status: Tired, focused
Spell Slots
Lv. 1 2/3

TAGS

Leonel stood with one foot swallowed by the darkness, just at the threshold where the light didn’t dare set in, throwing a hand out over his shoulder to signal the others to stop.

The dungeon was a living thing, a predator, and a cunning one. It shut the door closed behind them and herded them here, staring back into the abyss. It was almost as if it were using one of those old, tired lectures about warmongering his father used to drill into him. The art of war. Basic, common-sense stuff. Humans weren’t nocturnal animals, you lead the enemy into the pitch-black emptiness of a starless night and they’ll be as lost as a calf left in the tall grass without its herd, left to the lions.

Hell, humans were barely animals at all. It took one minor disadvantage, subtle irritancies to throw them off the flow of battle; droplets of rain on their helmet, mud sucking on their boots, or sharp, ungiving wind biting against their eyes; all to tip the odds in your favor.

Other races required a touch more of ‘artistic’ creativity to overcome, but the dungeon seemed to have the bare basics of Blackmane warfare down. It knew how to lead, how to stalk, and it knew that most humanoids couldn’t see a damn thing in the darkness. Either the walls around him truly were the innards of a living-breathing abomination, or he was just overthinking coincidences.

Either way, it wasn’t the time for thinking. Thought blurred into motion, action, and the lion raised his shield to his chest, muttering a string of prayers as his claw caught aflame with radiance. The same orbs of light as before were the first thing that took the room, he scattered them around to see if the darkness truly was impregnable. Then the firmament manifested around them again, a dozen starry wisps revolving around each party member.

He didn’t need to cast the eyes around the room to see if evil lurked in the dark, he was almost certain that there was something out there hiding, waiting to strike. Finally, Leonel took one more step, standing just beyond the entrance, half-covered in darkness, his shield raised high. Holding his ground and an open invitation for anything to try and take a bite of him.

It wasn’t too unlike a paladin of Espel to take one bold, blind, idiotic step into the dark after all.

Lv.1 -
Bulwark Stars

Cantrips -
Gift of Espel

Sir Les Paul · Mar 24, 2025

LOCATION—Amaric Temple (6th floor)
DATE—07/06
TIME—0948

QUICK RESPONSE

While Leonel was not directly targeted by any force within the room, given he had only just stepped in, the orbs that were the Gifts of Espel almost immediately were. The inky blackness was banished, at least in part, by the orbs. Unlike other rooms, the lumens they provided were dissipated much more so in a room as pitch black as the current one, meaning it would take more time for the room to be illuminated. Given it had only been a few seconds since they entered, it would take them more time to explore. From what they had thus far revealed, the floor transitioned from its paved stone pattern five to ten feet in to a more natural dust and stone, much like the cave floor they just came from.

The glowing orbs could not be damaged, but what shot at them were balls of a off-yellow, slightly green gunk. The creatures shooting it scurried away, revealing only bits of white flesh behind without divulging much more of their form, but none were larger than a typical garden snake. In a few places on the ground, those mucous-comprised spit balls attached. While no immediate effect seemed to take place on the stone, it filled the air with a noxious odor reminiscent of vinegar or overly fermented mother used to make yeast rolls. Not so fetid that it was impossible to pass, but sufficiently pungent that nearly it would burn the nose and perhaps sear the sinuses if directly over it.

EmperorsChosen · Mar 25, 2025

LOCATION—Amaric Temple
DATE—07/02 | Early Summer
TIME—0931

Cecelia Blake

Level 1 | Arcane Assassin
Spell Slots
Lvl. 1 3/3

TAGS

Cecelia's unimpressed eyes methodically slid back and forth between the speaking parties as they took their turn, with the exception of Leander, whom earned a more stern, observant gaze. She was unsure if that was a threat or simply what she had heard to be considered a dick-measuring contest, but regardless, she was about as exasperated as Lumina. Cecelia cared not for harsh words or fancy spells. She came here, in a way, to get away from the stress of her normal life. While still an improvement, she was hoping she wouldn't have to be watching out for a fight between her team.

At the very least Lumina could play the part of a keeper of order despite being a trainee, which brought some comfort. While her words almost sounded like a motherly lecture, the cold chill that surrounded them certainly gave a certain emphasis to them.

The assassin's eyes glided over to the elf's. She surmised this was quite the culture shock for her. While Cecelia wasn't totally inexperienced with such meandering, she had no idea what kind of culture this woman came from. Cecelia only hoped it was unlike this, else she would need to help Lumina hold all the leashes. Either way, if Cecelia were a woman of the cloth, her faith would be dwindling.

"Is there a plan for how far down we will go?" Cecelia asked calmly as they began to traverse again, changing the subject, or perhaps not. It would be some time before they came up against a 'real' threat, but she was questionable about the squad cohesion when dealing with said threat, or any. It was one thing if Leander could eviscerate it, or Cole, but something that required teamwork? The mason had her doubts.

Daddy Dream · Saturday at 9:38 AM

LOCATION—Amaric Temple (7th floor - Room of Surprise)
DATE—07/02 | Early Summer
TIME—11:27

┍━☽【❖】☾━┑
Rioka Yorel
✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

LvL 1 | Spore Druid
Spell Slots
Lvl. 1: 1/3
Pact: 0/1
┕━☽【❖】☾━┙

TAGS

Shotgunpenguin |

The Regal Rper | @Megilagor

Beads of sweat were dripping down her forehead and blood running out the corner of her mouth as she repeatily bit her lip to stay awake. She was barely able to hear what Lucas had said due to her being so focused, but she turned her head a bit to answer him while still watching the situation at hand.

"I can fight, but not for long without some sort of treatment. And my reaction time is worse." She hadn't realized that while she was talking, Lucas was preparing to smash his staff into the eye of a spider until is screeched out in pain. She turned, wide eyed, and looked for a moment to see that he was stuck. Well fuck, that just made things so much worse for them both.

Most of the spiders were dead, but she witnessed something that chilled her. They were feeding, feeding like starved animals on the fish...on their dead kin. What's worse, the ones who were fed were no longer as clumsy as they turned their attention to the group and started their advance. It was Ake first that seemed to be the first one to experience the spiders new strength. They basically threw the goliath against the wall like some school girl it appeared. And if they could to that to the warrior then the simple bite she received was child's play at the time.

She was about to alert Lucas of the changing situation when three more spiders came rising from the watery depths of the room. They weren't very close, but Rioka knew their beady little eyes were trained on Lucas and her. She cursed and painfully extended her injured arm, a small spark starting to come to life before a small, swirling flame appeared. With a narrow of her eyes, she casted one of her cantrips Firebolt towards the center spider. The flame made contact with the floor before bursting into a large 1 foot explosion. She had hoped it would catch them, or at least the one, on fire, and if not, injure them enough to be slow again. The heat of the explosion radiated with such intensity that she had to shield her face before it receded.

"Lucas, I hate to add more troubles to your situation, but the spiders have fed and don't seem to be as clumsy anymore!" She spoke, looking over at her reanimated spider. She had forgotten about it briefly, but it currently looked like it was having a stand off with another spider that was trying to flank Ake. She so wanted to have it come protect her, but after already being bitten, she didn't want their best fighter to be at anymore of a disadvantage. She commanded it to protect the warrior from having any enemies attack from the back before preparing up her next fireball attack.

ERode · Sunday at 1:36 AM

"Huh. Would you look at that."

Ayn peeked out around Leonel's shoulder, catching that skittering something in the darkness. Looked to be the cowardly, poison-spitting sort, which was more or less fine for her. She reckoned that she could catch those gooey projectiles on the flat of her blade and then clean her sword with their fetid blood, and if it wasn't for the sheer amount of darkness in the room, there was a good chance that she would have immediately invoked Unleash and then rushed in to cleave through monstrous flesh.

Unfortunately, the paladin's magic balls weren't lighting things up well enough, perhaps owing to the size of the room at hand, so instead, she tapped Symphony on the shoulder, then jabbed a thumb back towards the Bag of Holding that Markus carried. "Hey, since it might be bad to let em get off more of the smelly shots, how 'bout we just light the whole place up with those moonstones from earlier? Not like they'd have gone dim that quickly, right?"

And hey, if too much of the gunk gets on it, they could just bag it into the bag once more and now they had a different sort of weapon to use against the next set of monsters that had functioning noses.

November Witch · Sunday at 7:20 PM

LOCATION— Amaric Temple (6th Floor) - Room of Surprise
DATE—07/06 | Early Summer
TIME— 0948

⚜ Symphony ⚜

Level 1 | Battlemage
Status:
On Edge
Spell Slots
Lv.1 - 1/2
Active Spells
N/A

TAGS

Sir Les Paul @Carolyn

Symphony would wordlessly gather as many cocoons as she could, before leaving the room with everyone. She would follow the group into the next room, lining up just like they had in the last. She watched Leonel step into the room, and she stood just beyond the threshold of the darkness. A complete sort of darkness she hadn’t been in for some time… A tickle in the back of her mind, but she couldn’t grab the memory. Typical, when it came to these things. A small, inconsequential pang of disappointment fluttered through her, but it was momentary. Fleeting. She pushed it aside, as she had other things to worry about. Like the… uhm… Whatever that was…

Sticky, green gunk was slung from the dark corners of the room. But not at the group, at the light… She wondered if any other sensory stimuli would make them react like this. Would talking make the group a target? There was only one way to find out, and she had to convey her plans somehow…

“Leonel, keep those lights moving around. Perhaps we can figure out what those things are or keep them distracted. If we activate any other light sources, keep them away from us. I think they will attack any light source they see, like just now.” She took a moment to look around the unnaturally dark room. There wasn’t much she could see besides the nearby floor and the globs of… whatever that was.

When Ayn spoke up, it sounded like a sound idea. At least, at first. But she quickly realized it may not be as great as first thought. “We can try that. But they will likely get covered up by that substance in a short amount of time. It may not do much besides destroy the moonstone.” That was just conjecture though. She didn’t really know if this mysterious substance would harm the moonstone or not. “If there are no other ideas, we can try this with one moonstone.” The doll said. “Just stay close to each other, whatever we do. We know nothing about the creatures here.” In all honesty, the doll really didn’t like entering a room with creatures they knew nothing about. They couldn’t even rely on appearance for information. That made it all the more nerve-wracking. Were these things a threat? Would they be a huge problem, or comparable in trouble to rats and vines? They had no idea and would likely just have to react as the situation unfolded.

November Witch · Sunday at 7:29 PM

LOCATION— Amaric Temple (2nd Floor)
DATE—07/02 | Early Summer
TIME— 0931

⚜ Lumina Wynntress ⚜

Level 3 | Wizard
Status:
Exasperated

Spell Slots
Lv.1 - 4/4
Lv.2 - 2/2
Lv.3 - 1/1
Active Spells
N/A

TAGS

Merciless Medic

SCP-0029

EmperorsChosen

Lumina moved forward without looking back. She could hear the footfalls behind her and sense the presence of the others trailing behind. There was little said in the tension, besides some quiet words from the snow elf and a question from the assassin. It did normally depend on how recently the dungeon had changed, how close they were to the groups in front of them, and how many others had been through recently. It’s likely some rooms would have already been beaten or looted. Throughout the level they continued, towards the next staircase that would lead them further down.

“It depends on how soon we can find a room that hasn’t been looted or gone through.” The witch explained without turning around, her voice gradually losing its earlier bite. “So, likely no deeper than the 8th or 9th floor.” However, there wasn’t much else for her to say. She’d gone over basically everything she thought they would need to know. At least, for their first delve. There was the fact that there should be a leader among them, but she felt bringing that up would only add fuel to the social fire that had encompassed this first dive so far. So, she’d leave it for another time, simply leading the group further down into the temple.

Sir Les Paul · Monday at 2:59 PM

LOCATION—Amaric Temple (7th floor)
DATE—07/02 | Early Summer
TIME—1026

As it would turn out, Lumina was correct. The group did not need descend lower than the eighth or ninth floor before they came across an unsealed Room of Surprise. In fact, they didn't need to even pass the seventh floor. At their time of arrival, Rooms were still available fairly close to the sixth floor exit, only a Hallway down. Of course, some of these rooms were marked with a white chalk mark. One or two even had multiple strikes. That indicated previous parties had entered those rooms, but were unsuccessful in clearing them. In general, that meant the room was likely of a higher difficulty than nearby ones.

This chalk-marking system was a fairly new push to delving that the Guild was attempting to encourage. There had been hot debate the winter before on if the system should be upgraded or kept simple. Since the use of chalk-marking more dangerous rooms or failed attempts was implemented, there was a markedly lower rate of deaths. A system hadn't been so simple and effective since the red X system used to mark what many called 'Demon Doors' regarding particularly dangerous ones. The effectiveness of the system led many to want to expand it by adding new colors to communicate various reasons for failure, such as traps, a strong creature, exhaustion. While a good idea at first glance, there were those that also wanted colors to mark how strong a party was or if it had Spellswords. This type of stratification implied some ranking system and that garnered so much push-back that the simple white-chalk system remained for another year.

Good ideas often died in their deathbeds due to the pride of the narrow-minded.

What this created for Lumina and her party was a decision. They were spoiled for choice in regards to Rooms on the seventh floor. Not only that, the party knew full-well at least two more parties weren't far behind them, so time was somewhat of the essence. The only reason they likely weren't passed by despite hearing the other groups was the general etiquette of keeping distance from parties if possible.

In the hallway the group found themselves in, again only the second hallway of the floor, there were still five unsealed doors. One with a single white chalk mark denoting another team had failed, one near the beginning with a whopping six marks, and three more with no markings near the end of the hall that would have it turn into another. It was impossible to know what groups before them had tried these rooms, but Lumina did have the luxury of a team of entirely Spellswords. Even Cole, who was half-humiliated by Leander, was still leagues stronger than a regular mage that wasn't Twice-Blessed. With Vaelithra and her armor, there was some type of frontline here, too. Their party, even at their low level, simply had more power than the majority of their peers. It was not outside of the realm of possibility to take a chance on a difficult encounter.

Then again, all Rooms of Surprise had some element of chance to them.

Unless she was going to unanimously make their decisions and become their leader, Lumina now had to determine how she was actually going to structure this team and have them make decisions.

Merciless Medic

SCP-0029

EmperorsChosen

November Witch

Sir Les Paul · Monday at 3:30 PM

LOCATION—Amaric Temple (6th floor)
DATE—07/06
TIME—0948

MAP UPDATE

GM Note: Remember each grid block is approximately one foot.

With the lights from the Gift of Espel floating outward, more spit hit the floor, but little else was discovered without further exploration. The caustic smell from the globs of mucous only slightly diminished, but the relief was short lived as more angry lobs were sent out when the orbs of light spread further. Again and again, what little of their origin could be seen was that of small, white bodies, more slick with a definitive sheen than the dry scales of reptiles. Their act of fleeing the light prevented further assessment. What could be seen with the additional light from the orbs was more of the environment. Clearly another cave, though this one was less open, immediately seeming to split off into a left and right branch. Just ahead of them, though barely, both Leonel and Symphony could make out the same hard grey stone at the end of the chamber, itself only seven or eight feet in length. Clearly, there was more to explore hidden in the pitch darkness.

November Witch · Tuesday at 8:38 PM

LOCATION— Amaric Temple (7th Floor)
DATE—07/02 | Early Summer
TIME— 1027

⚜ Lumina Wynntress ⚜

Level 3 | Wizard
Status:
Curious

Spell Slots
Lv.1 - 4/4
Lv.2 - 2/2
Lv.3 - 1/1
Active Spells
N/A

TAGS

Merciless Medic

SCP-0029

EmperorsChosen

“Well, here you have a decision to make.” She told the group as they came upon a small selection of doors. “The more X’s chalked onto a room of surprise, the more difficult it likely is.” Lumina was sure they already knew this, or perhaps came to this conclusion based on context clues, but just in case, she’d say it. “You all have to decide which room you’ll go into as a group. It would also be prudent to decide on where to place your party members. Keep in mind you’re entering an unknown room. So, who should be in front? Who should be in the middle and rear? I want to see how you all think,” The witch went on. She felt as if she already had an idea about each of them, but it wouldn’t hurt to let them take charge a single time so they could gain experience, and Lumina can gain some insight on them.

“At this time, I want to hear you all discuss and come to an agreement. But no passive aggressive remarks this time. Just focus on your task.” Lumina said the last few sentences a bit more sternly than the first few. It was clear she didn’t want tensions flaring once more.

Sir Les Paul · Tuesday at 12:45 PM

LOCATION—Amaric Temple (7th Floor)
DATE—07/02
TIME—1058

Leander 🗲 Cromwell

Lvl. 1 | Mage-Storm Sorcerer
Status Focused
Spell Slots
Lvl.1 3/3
Metamagic
1/1

TAGS

GM Note
I have pushed the time about 30 minutes further. This is to account for a time jump I missed via simple arithmetic earlier (I forgot to add a one). This room should occur after the Markus party fight, but before the Lucas party room.

A long, slow, dull walk. Perhaps he was hyper-vigilant after his over-excitement resulted in blasting a guard, but at the least he was intent not to repeat the same mistake. Whether anyone would notice or not was another question. Luckily, Leander wasn't the type to mend his behavior for praise. He did it for the sake of actual improvement.

Besides, it would be a shame if shocking someone got him kicked out of the Dungeon.

Not to mention, the walk didn't really take that long anyway. Aside from a few rats and a grabbing vine, the path was fairly clear. It was obvious that other delvers had already made their way through the area - multiple times over, in all reality. It was nearly barren. Which made the promises from Lumina that it would be perhaps a week before it sprung back to life. The idea of seeing all this life cut down only to come back in full force so quickly was absurd. Of course, absurdity was the nature of a Dungeon.

Excitement, or at least a reprieve from the mundane act of walking in a cave of creature corpses, only returned once they reached the seventh floor and Lumina informed them of their new options. Decisions had to be made, apparently, and even Leander realized that given their previously coarse exchange, that might not be the smoothest of interactions. It didn't take but a half-second before the youth came to the conclusion that they needed more information... and that humbling himself might just open up the dialogue.

"I am decent with a spear, buuut I would think the woman with the sword and shield would make the best person in front," Leander announced, his tone an awkward mix of some type of attempted humor through whimsical sarcasm. In truth, he was just pointing out the obvious here, but breaking the ice was a challenge in and of itself.

"Traditionally, only battlemages sit near the frontline. I am not one," Leander admitted, "though I can infuse a weapon to deal a few lightning strikes." A useful piece of information that meant placing him near someone that could use said infusion might be useful.

"I have a question, though," he said, shifting up gears and changing his tone to a more pointed one. Almost academic in nature. Sterile, monotonous. His gaze fell back to Lumina. "What are you doing? Where will you be? Will you be slinging spells or shouting maneuvers?" he asked, his clear focus on Lumina intended to be an attempt to cut through any formalities or impositions the others might have with his suggestions. If it came from Lumina, they would be forced to listen. Making the words spill from her mouth to further his agenda, well...

...that was his noble side shining through.

Haze- · Tuesday at 5:32 PM

LOCATION— Amaric Temple (6th Floor)
DATE— 07/06
TIME— 0949

⚜ Leonel Blackmane ⚜

Level 2 | Guardian-Paladin
Status: Tired, focused
Spell Slots
Lv. 1 2/3

TAGS

Leonel had poised himself to bear the brunt of a strike. A strike that never really came.

Instead, he stood there with a blank look on his face, watching the thick pudding of gunk that’d been spat at his glowing orbs as it sunk into the stone floor, his face only ever-so-slightly twisting at the stench. Almost in unison, his — “Huh.” — confusion came at the same time as Ayn’s. His shield was, uncharacteristically, un-speared by a bundle of vines. And he wasn’t flailing in the air like a ragdoll.

He didn’t know whether to let his guard down or not.

He watched as the albino creatures scurried off into the darkness in a flash; it was a hit and run. His vision wasn’t exactly the best, probably the worst in the group, what with the gouged eye, but he had enough visual information to chew over from the small glimpse he caught of the creatures as they fled. Small, skittish like a horde of cockroaches when brought up to torchlight. Not quite scaly, too slimy and sleek to be scaly. But too fast to be some type of frog. A salamander of some sort? His imagination was running wild, trying to recall if any monster that fit the description rang a bell. None came to mind, he barely knew anything about the twisted wildlife in the dungeon.

For what it was worth, they seemed to already have jotted down everything they needed to know about these creatures. They hated the light, despised it, meaning they had the greatest advantage when hidden in the dark. By that logic, that meant they were completely helpless in the light… no? Leonel grumbled something under his breath, frowned as the creatures kept lobbing spit at the glowering orbs. He still was missing the ‘logic’ needed for understanding these monsters, and how to hunt them — “Symphony’s right. We don’t know how harmful their spit can be. Best case scenario, we can clean it off the stones and move on. Worst, we’ll come back up with only half of our haul and a handful of broken moonstones…”

“We can try lighting up the room with the stones, I suppose…”

The Lion Knight crossed his arms, a low hum in his throat as he watched the little creatures be chased away by the light. His cut his eye at them, glaring as they constantly retreated, back and forth. Leonel sighed, thoughtlessly raking a claw over his plate armor. Until a lightbulb finally lit up over his head — “I have an idea. Be quiet, for a moment.”

He took a step back, away from the cavernous entrance. A wave of his hand and the orbs of light vanished in an instant, the room was swallowed by the darkness again. He raised his sword over his head, and stood statuesque before the emptiness ahead of him, waiting, like an angler craning back his fishing spear.

Leonel waited for a long, silent while. Waiting for any cue, to hear the low pitter-patter of the creatures’ feet on the cavern floor, or whatever squeal that came from them. Then waited a few seconds more. In one swift motion, his claw lit up at his side to cast the Gift of Espel in the middle of the room, while his sword hand released the Dancing Blade unto the first blur of white his eye caught out of position. He uttered the command word as the sword soared through the air — “Dance.”

Best case scenario, they’d have one less creature to worry about. Else, they’d be back at square one.

At the worst possible turn of events, he’d have himself an enchanted sword full of creature goo to retrieve.

A man could only be so unlucky.

Enchantments -
Dancing Blade

Cantrips -
Gift of Espel

Sir Les Paul · Tuesday at 6:02 PM

LOCATION—Amaric Temple (6th floor)
DATE—04/01
TIME—0950

QUICK RESPONSE: Dancing Blade

And dance, it did.

The tactic of banishing the light only to bring it back as a lure for the pallid creatures would prove an effective one. Somewhat. While a handful returned to the front of the room, not all did, and they were still at the very edge of the border between light and dark. Cave-dwelling creatures were slow to trust. Once bitten, twice shy, after all. The moment that light returned, the creatures fled once again, this time not even bothering to spit their pungent saliva at the orbs. In turn, this meant they were out of eyesight by the time the sword hit the air.

Confounded, the sword could not complete its enchantment. Like a broken lawnmower sputtering white gas from excess oil, it started but roughly stopped. What Leonel had accomplished was throwing his valuable sword through the air, its magic putting it at an awkward angle, and the force behind it sufficient to smash it against the stone wall of the cavern. Worse, the magical stone the Dungeon was comprised of happened to be far harder than the magical alloy of the steel he used. Upon impact, the tip of his sword, hitting first and at an angle, snapped off, breaking it roughly three inches from the tip.

A man truly could only be so unlucky.

Check the date.