"Fear not, Lady Tanya!" decreed Marc from his abnormally tall perch. He was not the diminutive lady that stood by his side! Over the heads of his cohorts, he spied a dashing looking individual, dressed like a treasure hunter and quite well armed for her station. Wonderful! "There! A treasure hunter! Truly she will help us in our noble cause." Calling out to the lady he would later learn was named Liliana, he spoke loudly. "My dear lady! Please! Join us in our adventure! We are most pleased to have you with us!"

Who else could they grab? Marc was just the meat shield on this adventure but he didn't let a little thing like that bring him down. Not when there were so many strange and wonderful people to meet! "Well, there is also this fox lady!" he said, verbally mangling the race of the strange woman tending to the drunkard's wounds. "And the man with the magical staff," he said, nodding to Leander, "though he does look a tad blue. Perhaps he needs cheering up?" He laughed at his own joke before continuing. "And the drunkard, and the man who put the drunkard through a table! All worthy allies, assuming our fair Miss Sophia is able to tend to the woman's wound."

On that note, and satisfied that he highlighted all of the individuals he deemed worthy for the cause, he kneeled down next to the drunken, injured woman and the two tending to her. "Miss Sophia," he said, his voice warm and caring. "I know that you worry about your powers, and that you underestimate your confidence, but please know that we believe in you. You will do fine." He patted her on the shoulder as he spoke. He hoped that would reassure her enough to work her wondrous magic.

"Whatinthe..." by then, Cristine's vision had gone blurry and her words more slurred than before. She didn't seem to notice the woman toying around with Cristine's arm until Cristine realized she couldn't move her own arm. That was not the first thing she noticed.

"You got... dog ears..." Cristine remarked as she reached out her working hand to touch Haruka's ears. By the time she grabbed on, the woman had already left, leaving Cristine to stroke the air with her fingers. She giggled in her drunken stupor, making a hiccup before falling slightly, over, and then back again. She could feel something being poured down her mouth. It didn't taste like beer, but the knight had already lost most of her senses to know. Sergeant Wykes gulped it down like a champ.

"So... yeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaah" Sergeant Wykes slurred. "What's all this stuff about adventure?"

Haruka nodded at Al, her tail's wagging slowing somewhat. While she was still excited, as always she was, things seemed to have calmed down a little. This drunken lady was taking having a broken arm like a champion, even for someone as deeply inebriated as her. It was really quite impressive.

"Yes, tall person," Haruka agreed, "We will need much alcohol handy for this woman until the injury heals, for pain reasons. If you would purchase for her a bottle for later, that would be-"

The drunken knight attempted to play with Haruka's ears, and they twitched slightly despite the woman being quite far off.

"Yes, for later. I think that she is well alcoholed at this moment," Haruka finished, nodding. She looked around her and marveled at the diverse Western group that surrounded her. There was even a bird! Truly, the West was a mysterious and strange place. One of them even called her a fox, which made Haruka momentarily consider exactly what her own characteristics meant. Perhaps she was a fox, and she just didn't know it. Kitsune were tricky, after all. So tricky, that perhaps they could even trick themselves.

Entire seconds of introspection happened before Haruka decided that this was too hard for her and stopped. Since Haruka was done with the arm now and the bird was busy with something, perhaps it was time to gather some information.

"Why are you people entering the castle of an angry man named Haldric?" she asked the paladins, "And why is he angry? Did you do something mean to him, and are going to make apology?"

Fieri Angharad's dedicated searching eventually paid off. Sure enough, there was a sizable hole in the building's foundation. Though it was too high off the ground to simply walk into, the stonemasonry below it was rough and uneven-- perfect for climbing. Using her hands to propel her upwards and her muscular tail as a muscular anchor, Fieri gradually slithered up to and through the precipice without any trouble. With one mighty lunge, Fieri heaved herself into the tower's innards... and landed heavily on a moldering stone staircase. There were no innards, save for a single winding staircase.

Fieri grunted with equal measures frustration and pain. No lobby meant no easy place to set up shop! She'd be forced to crawl into the moldy musty underbelly of this damned dungeon! Worse yet, she'd have to use the stairs! Accidentally slamming the base of her tail on every step, Fieri slowly and achingly began making her way down the stone stairway.

Just as Fieri was starting to ponder about the depth of this seemingly-endless staircase, she heard a soft click. A trap had been sprung! The stone steps slowly began to angle themselves downward and rescind, leaving only a slippery, wet, stony ramp! This surprising change of events, while potentially disastrous for a biped, served only to make the snake-bodied Fieri's job easier. Her tail muscles easily gripped the imperfections in the stone steps, and all downward progress was handily halted. With no steps to bruise her tail on, Fieri quietly praised the designers of the Mad King's dungeon for their diligent concern for handicapped intruders.

At the base of the stairs was a quite inconvenient gap. Presumably, bipedal intruders would have found themselves sliding unstoppably to whatever lied below. Fieri, however, managed to stop herself in time. Coiling her tail and springing it forward, Fieri leaped over the gap and made it to the floor beyond with a meaty thud. Suffering only a few tail bruises and a wet underbelly, Fieri surged with confidence. She continued on into the depths of the dungeon, in search of plunder and marketing opportunities.

Liliane had noticed that her yell hadn't gone unheard. The rather small paladin had called her (and possibly a few others) over. Liliane took one step forward and heard another shout by one of the tiny paladin's companion. The second yell was unexpected. "Aye?" Liliane yelled back to him, wondering why he knew that she was a treasure hunter.

Liliane, with tree nuts in hand, walked over to the mini-paladin's table. Liliane then noticed that the small competition between the soldier lady and man who looked like an average warrior had spiralled into someone's arm being gnarled. Luckily, the arm appeared to be tended to by a foreign person.

Liliane stood there, amazed that so many events could happen at a bar in less than 8 minutes.

Al nodded at the doctor's words. He understood that alcohol was good. A trained medical professional only confirmed that it could cure outside injuries, not just inside ones.

The swordsman immediately bought a very large, very strong bottle of whiskey, slipping it inside his bag.

"I think it's like a tomb or something. I knew some guys that cleared out the upper floors the other month; they made out with some decent loot. It's got like traps and stuff, but if you're looking for cash we can head towards the lower floors." he explained to the dog girl. Or was it a fox girl? Al made a mental note to ask after he'd secured a paycheck.

"Yeah, I'll join. It'll be an adventure!" he told Marc, emphasizing 'adventure' by pounding his fist into his hand, as the mental note was buried under thoughts like 'That tail is rather fluffy' and 'I hope Haldric's tomb doesn't have terribly many snakes'.

"A-adventure!" Sergeant Wykes waved about in a dizzy fashion. "Okay miss Paladin. I'll join you." Sergeant Wykes offered, looking down at her arm. She tried moving her arm, but the act was met with more pain than anything else. In other words, the splint was effective. The knight attempted to pick at her arm a little bit. She wondered what it would be like should she have an itch- not that it mattered quite yet.

Sergeant Wykes attempted to reach to her back, untying the knot right off her neck as she moved the arm a little bit out to stretch. "Oh... it's all better" Cristine giggled in drunken confusion. She hiccuped again and began shadowboxing at the air.

"Thanks bird lady"

Tanya cleared her throat. Good, the soldier woman was healed, and everything seemed to have quite nicely quieted down. And indeed, there were many who seemed rather interested in what she had to say. Even the drunken woman, who would hopefully sober up before they got going. Tanya was not to keen on taking a drunk into a dungeon, especially for a mission as important as this. To be fair, the lack of exposure to the deepest point of Haldric's Prison-Castle meant she was not sure exactly what evil lurked there, but regardless bringing someone who was drunk seemed a poor idea. However, some people sobered up quickly, a fact that Tanya was glad for in any situation.

"The Prison-Castle of the Mad King Haldric is not too far from here," she began, "And within it, a terrible evil lies. There is a reason goblins are drawn to it and it's filled with mindless undead. There's something at the bottom. Something acting as a beacon to foul creatures like that. As a Paladin of Reon, it is my duty to eradicate evil such as this. However, many of my usual allies are unable to accompany me. With two exceptions."

She paused for a moment, glancing from Sophia to the Mayonite Paladin and back. "That is why I have come to this...

Tanya paused for a moment. She hated taverns.

"... Wonderful place. In order to gather a party to reach the final floor of the Prison-Castle and slay the darkness there. I will only take a small amount of wealth for the Church, all else may be divided between each of you."

Indeed, Tanya certainly did not want for wealth.

"Sophia, our scholar and nun, will inform you more of the Prison-Castle."

Not a sound was made as Fieri's leathery tail slithered along the confines of Haldric's Prison-Castle. The halls ahead, barren and looted long ago, were dimly lit by still-burning torches helpfully placed by the castle's previous plunderers. The gloomy light emitted by the torches playfully flickered along the floor, revealing conspicuously missing tiles. On closer inspection, the tiles appeared to be pressure plates long-ago uprooted, their mechanic innards looted and sold. A brief splash of inspiration struck Fieri-- the forester said something about this castle being filled with traps. All I need to do it loot them, and I'll be rich! An evil glint shone in Fieri's eye, as a whole range of mercantile opportunities opened themselves to her. Fieri slithered on.

The nondescript, winding walls of the Prison-Castle gradually began to reveal more and more of their creator's personal tastes. Though the castle's ancient traps had been made almost obnoxiously conspicuous through either previous adventurers' markings or their mechanisms obvious absence, they were becoming alarmingly common. Every few yards, another shattered or removed pressure plate would cross her view. Whatever the Prison-Castle's previous occupants did, it was clear that they had to do it carefully. The sheer density of traps on this floor spoke volumes of the Mad King's paranoia. Fieri, harrowed but unwilling to turn back, occupied herself by brainstorming. Fieri, being an entrepreneur, knew that she couldn't earn any customers by simply offering services, she would have to offer goods as well. A proof of concept could go a long way to ensure that she would be worth the money she wanted from them. To do that, she would need to Artifice. To Artifice, she needed ideas. It was at that point that Fieri activated a cleverly-hidden spike trap.

In retrospect, Fieri probably shouldn't have been thinking so hard on what enchantments would be useful, especially given where she was. It was only thanks to dumb luck and the misfortune of a previous adventurer that Fieri avoided impalement. Instead of meeting hard, rusty steel at the end of a spike, Fieri was instead struck with the corpse of a leather-clad humanoid, rotted far beyond the point of recognizability. For a moment, Fieri was dumbstruck. Then, like a bloated float rising from the depths, Fieri emitted an animal noise, mindless and pained. What started as an idiot's croak grew quickly into a shrill scream, and Fieri flung herself backwards until her back slammed into the wall. Fieri, overcome with panic, curled up into the fetal position, and began sobbing hysterically.

"Kill a demon, loot the treasure. I know the deal." Al gave a large smile at the paladin, adjusting his sword sling.
"It's nothing I don't already do on a regular basis anyways. Heck, I even know the way from here." he said, opening the large tavern doors, letting in a fresh draft of air from outside.

"I think it's time we blow this scene. Get everybody and the stuff together." he said, stepping outside.

"Alright guy who broke my arm. I guess I'm gonna follow you until I get my revenge. WOOHOO!" Cristine spun around drunkenly. She felt herslf to make sure nothing was missing, unscrewing the pommel on her sword, then twisting it back to make sure it was tight. "Buh-bye" she waved the tavern before opening the door and stepping through, leaving the door open to let in the draft.

Sergeant Wykes unhinged her horse and got on. It seemed that while her mental status was off, she still had some level of coordination. In fact, it was not the first time Sergeant Wykes had rode a horse drunk.

"Weeheehee!"

Both the big guy and the purple child explained to her about this castle, but Haruka still didn't quite understand. What she wanted to know was why Haldric was so angry, but no one seemed intent on answering. Perhaps nobody knew. Perhaps she would have to find out herself. Also, she guessed that there was evil and money there too. If Haruka knew anything, it was that evil was bad and that she needed more money. Thus, it was decided.

Haruka excitedly rushed out of the tavern behind the big guy and the drunk woman, who was fine now somehow. Either Westerners were also amazing at healing, or else Haruka's skills have become so fantastic that she could mend a broken arm completely in minutes. Either way, it was fascinating to her. She still didn't quite know what was going on, but everyone was really excited and that made her excited too.

"OK," she cried out, "3, 2, 1, let us travel now to our destination!"

Well three people had just left, leaving only the treasure hunter lookalike and the robed man. This would not do!

"I had better follow them!" Marc promptly declared. "They have no idea the danger and excitement that awaits them! I'll fill them in on the way! I hope to see you there once we reach the dungeon Lady Tanya, Miss Sophia!"

And like that he was out the door, pursuing Al, Wykes and the strange fox lady. Still unarmed and unarmored. "Wait, wait!" he called after the departing trio. "Before you leave, I must gather my equipment! It is at the orphanage, see. I have been staying with them, as they will be receiving my share of the reward!" Once again, Marc Ferrus was daft enough to try and explain everything to everyone at every time.

It was rather frustrating to the small harpy that, with everything that was going on, nobody even paused to stay around or listen--not even the person whose arm had just been healed. In Sophia's knowledge, it was generally not a good idea to walk out without knowing if you were in top form. The only warning would be to not stress her arm until tomorrow in case it broke all over again but it was definitely worth knowing if you were that rough.

At least being on the go made explanations considerably easier to hear... though it seemed doubtful that people were listening properly after leaving before they got the chance to hear.

"As you probably know, Mad-King Haldric was once King Grigori Fel Haldric II, ruler of Telrun. The longer his reign went on, the more paranoid he grew, and the castle's original construction reflects this. Even trusted servants fell under suspicion, and the traps and danger either drove everyone off or killed them.

"The last we know is that the king, still wealthy, sought to become undead or otherwise achieve immortality and his kingdom, with no line of succession was absorbed into Velt about nine hundred years ago.

"Though the castle has decayed since then, many attempts have been made to enter, but the most successful were investigating what had happened to cause his kingdom's collapse. Those that survived managed to record important information, as have more recent adventurers.

"The front entrance isn't worth considering for most, due to a trapped lock and a pit trap. The mindless undead that have survived are likely to be unusually tough for something with no intelligence, since their ranks are from the castle's original inhabitants. Even with bare instincts, soldiers with nine hundred years' experience are dangerous.

"Unfortunately, due to numerous recent attempts indicating the state of decay, the original plans are only useful as a guideline. Former pathways are blocked off, and even with many of the traps broken, some continue to be a hazard despite no longer working as intended.

"Finally, nobody has reached the bottom two layers since the castle was inhabited by the living. When we reach the bottom levels, everyone should be as careful as possible."

That was it for the harpy's knowledge, at least that which could be applied without some sort of idea where in the castle they could possibly be.

"Don't worry, we'll meet you inside!" Al called, waving at the paladin. It was good to see that everyone was so eager to get to looting an ancient tomb.

Picking up his pace, the adventurer led the way to Haldric's Tomb. No doubt the church had hired them for a treasureful sidequest.

As the horse trodded onward, it slowed down its pace to match that of the adventurers. Its rhythmic galloping seemed to lul Sergeant Wykes to sleep, as she slumped over the horse's main and grabbed its neck. Slow as it was, it seemed Sergeant Wykes would not fall off. She had a countermeasure in the form of straps which snapped on- she had them installed after the second time she had fallen asleep while on her horse. It was a trick some of the king's cavalrymen used, or at least a trick that was developed by some of her peers back in training so they could catch up on sleep while out training.

Fieri, quaking and quivering, gradually regained her wits about her. The ringing, pounding dullness of pure terror washed away to reveal stark ingenuity. Through her torment, Fieri made a breakthrough. Pressure plates activate traps. If I could see and activate them, I'd be safe! Fieri's tail kicked a few pebbles out of the way as she sprang forward out of the fetal position, making a loud clattering sound against the stone floor. Pebbles are easy to throw and strike the ground with some force... I can make them strike with more force. All I need is some power, and a way to contain them...

Fieri looked over to the ruined corpse of the poor adventurer who had post-humuously saved her. With no small amount of hesitancy, she patted the corpse down, blindly searching for pouches, satchels, or sacks. Fieri breathed a deep sigh of relief when her questing hand found the familiar malleable shape of a leather pouch, and she quickly ripped it from the corpse's belt. Fieri snatched a handful of pebbles from the ground, and retreated back towards the entrance of the Prison-Castle. In what dull light spilled through from the surface, Fieri began one of her finest works.

With an artist's skilled hand, Fieri opened her Mana Battery Kit. In it was an array of tools, from paintbrushes to engraving tools, all arranged alongside inkwells, crushed mana batteries, and pastepots. This was the workbench of the Artificer, and this was the home of what makes a normal being into a hero. Each of the tools within was carefully artificed to transfer just the right amount of magic into its canvas.

Fieri gracefully pulled a paintbrush and a fluorescent-blue inkwell from her kit, and daubed the brush in enchanted ink. With one quick motion, she everted the leather pouch, and carefully began drawing arcane designs on its insides. To a layman, Fieri's caligraphy was nonsense-- a meaningless series of geometric shapes surrounded by a wordless alphabet. To an Artificer, however, the shapes and letters were given form. An endless series of carefully-calculated equations designed to selectively alter the inner workings of reality. With an Artificer's aid, one could make ice shoot fire, or a cannonball weigh only an ounce. The inscriptions Fieri was drawing across the innards of this mundane bag were relatively simple by Artificing standards: nothing more than a simple spell to grow anything touching it, as well as empowering them with magical force. The net effect would be simple but noticeable: anything placed within the inside of the bag would grow to twice its size, and whenever it was struck, it would release a small amount of magical force and light equal to a good stomp from a full-grown human foot. To finish her work, Fieri re-everted the pouch and placed a full-fledged, fully-charged mana battery in it. With a soothing hum, The Pebble Pouch filled itself with magical energy. Fieri dubbed it "The Pebble Pouch". Fieri was not very good at naming things.

Fieri smiled confidently, and withdrew the spent mana battery from the confines of The Pebble Pouch. She rubbed her scalp thoughtfully, and began brainstorming yet more potentially-valuable products. Torches that needed no pitch or fire, poles that exerted large amounts of force at one end, plates of metal that heated themselves up enough to cook by! Giggling gleefully, Fieri snatched a few torches from the walls, extinguished them, and happily began her Artificing again.

Leander noticed that he was being ignored by the others, having been distracted by the broken arm incident. Sure, it was a serious wound, breaking an arm, but it was like no one even bothered to notice his presence. Granted, Leander spent a long time trying to be unnoticed by others in the past, but now it was almost insulting. Leander sighed softly and followed the nun as she explained what the tomb of Mad King Haldric contained, as well as its history.

Leander nodded occasionally as Sophia explained, remembering some of the facts from the various slivers of information he had picked up over the years. He also learned new things, such as the mindless undead being soldiers in their time, which Leander had not realized before. As for the final two layers of the castle, well, that was the most interesting part. Would their party of adventurers be the first to reach it without dying? What valuable information did it hold? What exactly ever happened to Mad King Haldric? The scholar side of him couldn't help but wonder. Maybe King Haldric II succeeded in his quest to become immortal. That could explain why the church was on this quest. However, that was only a theory; the real reason would undoubtedly be explained in time.

After several hours of walking, our heroes soon found themselves at the entrance of Haldric's tomb.

The foreboding ruins stood silent, towering over the humans/demihumans. The entrance stood shut, a testament to the relative mystery within. Only time would tell whether the adventurers before it would uncover its secrets.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"...Well, it can't be that bad. Let's get to work!" AL grinned, drawing his greatsword. Ramming the tip of the blade between the doors, the swordsman began to pry, his muscles tensing under the strain.

Sergeant Wykes woke up to the sound of her horse neighing and kicking back. As she was still slumped over the horse's neck, Wykes was tossed back a bit. Hungover, she rubbed her eyes and groaned. "Well fuck me" she mumbled, feeling absolutely horrible. Her hair was in a mess, and her skin was clammy from having slept in chainmail. It wasn't the first time she had woken up hungover in chainmail, but she certainly did not get used to it.

The knight looked around. "What's for breakfast?" she yawned as she stretched out. She noticed a taller man attempting to break a door open. She remembered that man- he was from the night before. He could recall him breaking her arm, but as Sergeant Wykes moved her arm, it felt more or less fine. "Maybe I should stay off it just in case..." she wondered.