[IC] A Good Old Dungeon Spelunk (Full currently, check back later!)

[Gardevoiran]

Irthorne glanced up from his book and looked around at the greenery covering the area. It was a chilly spring day that day, with flowers coming into fresh bloom everywhere. The air whispered as the breeze blew through the atmosphere, causing a bit of a shiver to anyone walking nearby. Irthorne closed the book after folding the corner of the page he was on so he could pick up where he left off later, and with the title of the book "The Herolich" facing the sky, he went back over a plan.

He had amassed a good-sized group, but that was also the downfall. If too many people entered the Believers Crypt at once, they may cause a collapse of rubble on top of them, which was a very bad situation if they were caught within it, so a few would have to stay outside the dungeon, which may prove useful anyway as this dungeon may have the classic necromancer in it, and if the necromancer has any minions that went out on errands, be it to get food or toilet-paper, then the surface group would be there to make sure that minion doesn't get into the dungeon. The only question is, who would be willing to stay on the surface of the dungeon?

After pondering over the idea in his head, the 14 year old girl didn't seem like a good idea to leave on the surface with a bunch of strangers. Irthorne trusted a few of them, like the monk woman and the birdman, but there were also those like the self-proclaimed "Axeman", which gave him the willies. Willies or no willies, it was ultimately up to the person whether they would stay on the surface or not.

Irthorne checked his watch again, and saw it was the decided time to enter the dungeon. "Where is everyone?", Irthorne thought as he waited for the group to arrive.

[Turbowraith]

The sound of heavy and fast-paced footsteps resounded through the clearing. Through the brush and branches, the silhouette of a massive, impossibly well-built man neared, as he cheerfully sang a strange north-folk's song, nearly at the top of his lungs. His gait revealed his demeanor, and his demeanor was as cheerful as it could get. Yet, something was amiss. And that something was a trail of blood, the trickling originating near an object hanging from the barbarian's belt. As he neared, a wide, honest grin became visible on the northener's squared face, and two glazed over eyes twinkled beneath the shadows cast by the forest.

They were not his, however, but rather belonged to the severed head hanging on his hip. The barbarian's eyes were in fact closed, as he was deeply immersed in his this foreign tune of his. He quickly regained his composure though, after almost tripping on a rather sizable pebble, once again peered at the world around him. Quickly noticing the gnome he was supposed to meet, he quickened his pace, as it is never acceptable to leave one who you've stricken a pact with waiting, though that had the ill side-effect of making the head's tongue exit its' mouth and dangle freely.

Once he had found himself near the gnome, he halted, and respectfully greeted him, as he placed his massive axe head-down, and slightly leaned on it.

"HAIL MIGHTY WIZARD. IT IS I, THE AXEMAN, KOL'RAKUL, AND I HAVE COME TO PLEDGE MY WEAPON TO YOUR CAUSE AS REQUESTED. LONG LIVE YOUR KING AND CITY."

Noticing that due to his posture, blood had began to trickle down his leg, he untangled the trophy's hair from his belt and let it fall to the dirt. It rolled in the grass a few times, inching closer towards the gnome, before stopping, limp as always, with its' tongue still hanging out of a mouth filled with rotten, blackened teeth.

"DO NOT BE TAKEN ABACK, WISE GNOME, FOR THIS ONE WAS FROM A BANDIT, SO EAGER TO TEST HIS GROUP'S METTLE AGAINST UNSUSPECTING TRAVELERS. I HAVE BROUGHT HIM BACK, SO AS TO BE IDENTIFIED BY AUTHORITIES. YOU MAY LAY CLAIM TO THIS TROPHY. YES, THE AXEMAN BRINGS A GIFT OF GOOD WILL, HO-HO!"

Ah, the day was already off to a great start, and that raised Kol'Rakul's spirits. It always warmed his heart to see eager members of the court take up action against the forces that threatened their subjects, and this gnome seemed no exception. Whatever was coming, he was determined to face it.

[Starberries]

A series of rustling in the area's surrounding flora signified a sudden new arrival, as bursting forth from a bush was the figure of the young woman Amarilla, covered head to toe in leaves and blades of grass that had gotten stuck in her hair and on her cloak and clothing. The supply pouches tied at her waist rattled their contents around as she came to a sudden stop from the momentum she had gained running through the bushes and trees, just managing to stop herself from tripping over her own feet and several roots.

"Sorry, sorry, am I late?!" Amarilla shouted as she came into view Irthorne and the hulking man who had already arrived. She pulled her hood down somewhat to shield her eyes from the sunlight, but it did not hide a wide spread on her face despite the concerned question. She chuckled a little, adding, "I, uh, decided to go through the trees cause the sun was kinda bright and I guess I got a little turned around, whoops! Sorry about that!"

Taking a moment to survey the pair in front of her, Amarilla squinted from under her hood at the larger - significantly larger - of the two. It took her several seconds to do so, the sunlight forcing her to shut her eyes or turn her gaze to the ground a few times, but she was able to get the general picture even if she couldn't keep her eyes open long enough to absorb all of the details. "Hello, large man!" she announced cheerfully with a wave of one hand, readjusting her hood once more with the other. "Are you here to explore the crypt too? I sure am! It's nice to have someone big and tough on board for that sort of thing!"

During her entire greeting, she made no note or acknowledgement of the severed head lying on the ground between herself and the two other individuals, or the blood that broke up the green coloring of the ground. Whether she was unconcerned by those matters or simply didn't see them due to her hood covering her eyes was not quite immediately evident.

[The Wild West]

Ingrim was excited for the prospect of this dungeon crawl, violence with the side of looting has always provided a hefty sum of materials and gold for any successful adventurers. The ringmaster has been quite low on resources for some time, maintenance for his many constructs has been a large drain on his funds and his profits from the sideshow hasn't done too well in the recent weeks. However, this wandering circus master had gotten messages about this adventure which will surely provide him for the materials to expand his army of constructed circus animals! It shall be glorious, the name of Ringmaster Ingrim Nesfit will ring throughout the ages as one of the most well-sought and popular circuses around the entire world, but also one of the most dangerous adventurers with his army of dangerous circus animals! It shall be the double whammy! Famous entertainer and adventurer! Ingrim laughed out loud from the thoughts of his future glory, "Onward! Match Stick! Zip Zap! Pupsicle! Faster! The future awaits us!" Ingrim yelled, mechanical barking celebrating along side their screaming master with the rest of his creations dancing with the thick excitement in the air.

The ride to the designated location didn't take too long after the celebration towards the future, and in the distance his image appeared as he drove the tiny carriage being powered by his magical mechanical dogs. Ingrim had spotted these new people in the distance as well, one was his gnome employer, the other was some large boisterous man, and the last being some pale hooded figure. The Ringmaster waved the three down as he approached the group, the speed of the carriage slowing down as the distance was quickly covered between the two points.

Reaching the employer and fellow adventurers, Ingrim stopped waving but the same plastered smile was stuck upon his face. Jumping off his tiny carriage, the three mechanical dogs unhinged themselves from their reins and were soon met with an extroverted greeting from the leader. "Hello! Ringmaster Ingrim Nesfit is here! Sole proprietor of the wandering circus 'Nesfit & Co.' And here is my company!" Soon after his statement, the dogs ran by his side with the rest of his constructs barreling out of his carriage to be introduced by Ingrim, "These adorable constructions here are my trusty hounds! Match Stick, Zip Zap, and Pupsicle! The little walking crossbows? Why they are the best darn sharpshooters in the region that can shoot the wings off of flies, Cross and Bow! Pack-Mate! The walking treasure chest, it can spit out and juggle over eight objects at once, an amazing feet to behold as it has no eyes!" The constructs, in unison started to bounce around directly after Ingrim finished his sentence, it was quite obvious that this is the introduction that the group does at almost every single town to gain attention, but strangely enough while putting on his show his top hat started to rumble above his head. "Oh! And how could I forget my most important friend!" Ingrim removed his top hat, darkness was filled within the inside before bright yellow eyes appeared out of the darkness of the hat, "My little friend here is Smokey! If you take your eyes off of him for just one second, he will disappear right before your eyes! And watch out, he sure does like shiny objects! So! How can 'Nesfit & Co.' assist you this fine day!"

[Horrid]

The promise of deadly encounters and strong opponents in the request for help had already excited Bartimus beyond his reckoning. From the moment he got the request to assist with the spelunking of this forgotten, forbidden ruin of evil intent, his feathers had been ruffled and his sword hand itched with feverish excitement. He had walked for 2 days and 2 nights without rest just to be here at the agreed upon time, lugging his heavy pack clattering with pots and pans through wood and wind, hail and frost with no signs of slowing or stopping sheerly because of how much he relished the battle ahead.

It was for this reason that he was tied up in the higher branches of a rather large oak, with his pack hoisted on rope away from the earth to dangle next to him. Every warrior has their limits, and his was met in the dark of the night he had arrived. The cover of the tree's canopy hid him from sight, but his softly hooting snore was faintly audible, echoing past the leaves and being carried by the soft wind of the chilly spring morning.

He woke suddenly and looked up through the covering of leaves and twigs to see the warm light of the morning sun shining through. A moment's deliberation pushed him into moving as he set to untying the rope holding him to the tree and grabbed his pack, untying it as well before letting himself down as quickly as he could. He coiled the rope for later use and secured it to his pack before approaching the already gathered party with a twittering yawn. He checked his blades in their hip sheathes, his shining silver blade, polished to a mirror finish, and his shorter iron blade, showing the signs of use wth it's nicks and burrs, and its spots of rust near the guard. The shortbow and quiver secured to the side of his pack creaked and shuffled as he approached.

"You folk, no concern for the resting nomad. Clatter and clank and scream. Its enough to make a man wish for his nest again." Bartimus said as his feathers puffed up in the crisp morning air, making him look less warrior and more child's companion. He looked to Irthorne and gave a respectful nod, already familiar with the gnome's manner, "Where am I required? My heart is uneasy with all of my inactivity of late."

[DracoLunaris]

Having heard many the story and read several books mentioning the undead, Andrik was looking forward to testing his metal vs the much feared horrors. A walking rotting corpse, he felt, did not pose as much threat has the various adventurers, tomes and minstrels had made out, at least to one armored and trained like him and his peoples warriors. Yet it never did to underestimate a foe and as such his entry in the tablet this morning made sure to direct his kinsmen to the various information on the undead lest it be his final one. Speaking of adventurers they were always a an interesting lot, full of tall tales and often unusual creatures in their own right, a useful source of information even if their stories were always filled with exaggerations of their own heroics.

The vaulter was currently carefully making his way through the forest, making sure not to make any unnecessary noise and keeping an eye out for danger. It would not do to be ambushed before reaching the meeting point. Now though, if there was any doubt that he was going the right way it was quickly dispelled by the loud chatter going on in a clearing before him. After Identifying the royal advisor Irthorne he strolled out of the forest eager to meet the interesting bunch of adventurers already assembled. “Greetings, I am Andrik Nordin the Vaulter.” This loud introduction was probably the first indication those assembled had of the towering man clad in armor emerging from the woods was in the area. He carried a large metal round shield in his left hand and an odd vertically bowed crank operated crossbow hanging by a strap from his right shoulder. He wore a belt from which bolts for the crossbow along with a small runic flask, an icepick and a small iron bar wrapped in leather where hung. On his neck small purple scales can be seen growing, and around it are a jade medallion and a necklace of coral. His face is mostly hidden by a helmet and by a well kept beard. The backpack he was wearing was carefully sealed against the elements and thieves alike.

He takes a moment to examine those who have already arrived, particularly interested in the various mechanical contraptions of the gnome, the avian individual whose species he has not encountered before and slightly perturbed by the severed head on the floor. “It is good to meet you all, I hope this expedition will be one worthy of retelling”

[Bishop]

Quietly he traversed the greenery while admiring the nature all around. He was a man who admired everything of this world and enjoyed it to it's fullest. His Shadow rarely stayed with him when they were in private, as it too liked to explore and find more. If it wasn't for the invisible thread that kept them from being too far from each other, there was no doubt that it would already be halfway to the other side of the world the second it left him. As the Shadow was already by the entrance, only the gnome being there, most certainly the quest giver, he decided to wait until everyone was present or until they made for the tomb.

Sitting at the roots of a lush green tree he decided to pass time by playing his favorite game. It involved his Duality Clock and just deciding to do random actions. If something resulted in his death and he couldn't find the connection on how it was caused, +1 point. You would be surprised how randomly death befell the unlucky. Finding out those random things that triggered death, that was fun indeed.

[Cuccoruler]

Feon had spent the day searching for the carvern. If she had not met up with her old friend Kol'Rakul she would have never found the gnome or the meeting spot. Though she had not known him for more than one time they had worked togeather, she knew him well enough that he had to be kept in check. The big oaf was terrible at controling himself after all.

Feon walked through the trees following a path left by Kol'Rakul. "You need to learn to hold back when you meet people." Feon said in a slightly annoyed tone as she had her arms crossed, an annoyed look on her face. "One of these day's that personality is gonna get you more than killed." She added as she walked towards the group. It was quite the group that was for sure.

She had decided to take on this mission as she wanted to test how far she had come in her own training to be more resistant against being possessed. Of course trying to keep herself stalwart against spirits that wanted in rarely worked. She had been trying a new method recently and wanted to test it. But the fact that she was born to be a vessel did not help her in the least with her on going battle.

"I must apologize for the big oafs rather, unruly entrance. I'll be trying to keep him inline for this job." Feon added as she looked at the others. Her metal claw weapons hung on the back of her sash, clinking togeather.

Feon already had a dislike for a few people in this group. For one the circus man annoyed her the most. With his loud dogs and what not. She wouldn't be getting much sleep with those things around. Then there was the girl with the aversion to sunlight. Feon had a hatred for creatures of the dark, that was true. She would be keeping her eye on that one.

[Gardevoiran]

Irthorne was surprised, everyone was arriving very quickly from seemingly nowhere. First his jimmies were rustled from Kol'Rakul and the severed head of the bandit that he brought with him, to the vitamin-D deficient alchemist arriving shortly after, then the ringmaster and his troops, the birdman, the Vaulter, the mysterious mercenary, and lastly the monk. There were a few more arrivals to be awaited, but that didn't really bother Irthorne the much. He stood on top of a stump and cleared his throat as he began to speak.

"Ahem. Excuse me everyone! May I have your attention please?" The voice of the gnome was raspy and creaky, but not creepily so. Heck, it sounded a lot like a cliche wizard if you really wanted to think of it like that. "Thanks again for coming to this mission! I understand most of you must be itching to explore what's actually in here, the Believers Crypt, and we will very shortly. Right now we're just waiting on a few more people to arrive here before we enter..." The gnome took a small pause, to see if anyone who was coming arrived in the middle of his speech, but then he continued. "... however, we are at a slight problem with this. I have hired a larger amount of people than I thought, and that may cause issues if we all entered the crypt. Therefore I must ask for a few of you to stay outside of the crypt in case this place has a few... unwanted visitors going out for errands." The gnome had to think there for a second, surely there would be willing volunteers to offer and stay outside the crypt. The alchemist was probably not interested in that idea though, as she hated the sunlight. He spoke once more before climbing off the log. "Until the remaining few arrive, you all are free to converse amongst yourselves. Adjourned!"

Now on the ground, the gnome waltzed over to Bartimus and began speaking to him. "Within time, my avian ally, we will get down to the business within this cave. Until then, I have a favor to ask of you, if you wouldn't mind it."

[Turbowraith]

Before the gnome official could answer, a presence appeared from within the foliage. Black-cloaked and full of greenery, it came to a clumsy halt before the gathering party. At first, the man was weary of such a shady figure, but as it neared, and the face of a joyous young woman became visible, it once again calmed him down. After reporting to the advisor, it seemed that she turned toward him, fiddling with her hood as she did.

"AH, GREETINGS, IVORY ONE. INDEED, I AM THE AXEMAN, KOL'RAKUL, AND I TOO SHALL DELVE WITHIN THE CRYPT!-" A big, goofy grin creeped up on the barbarian's face as he momentarily looked away. Words of kindness could often make him blush. "I- HAH, SHALL DO MY BEST, IF NOTHING ELSE. THOUGH IT SEEMS I AM AMONG EQUALS IN SKILL." The Axeman exclaimed, as he carefully observed the newcomer. The continuous squinting, despite the early hour, and somewhat unnatural color made him vaguely suspect her being more than she appeared, but he quickly ceased such thoughts, as it was a matter not for him to judge. Yet, he could not help but give the hooded one a sly wink as he finished talking.

Not a moment after the barbarian had turned back at the gnome, a wheelbarrow approached the ever-growing group, it's master hailing from afar. As the contraption came closer, Kol'Rakul was surprised to see it drawn not by beasts, but by mechanical dogs! Their owner hopped off and as the Axeman was soon to discover, he was not unlike these wandering entertainers he usually came upon his journeys, though what he displayed far exceeded any of them.

Kol'Rakul marveled at the metallic hounds crackling with arcane energy, smiled at the sight of the small sentient crossbows, and wondered where and how one could find and tame such a chest. Even the minuscule shadowy creature amused him, though he nervously clutched his axe a tad tighter than usual after hearing of its' tendency to steal shiny things. He had only recently cleaned it, after all. Once the display was over, the towering man let loose a roaring laugh and clapped vigorously. "WHAT A WONDROUS SHOW, RINGLEADER!"

And, just as the parade of exotic contraptions was over, more adventurers began to flood the scene. A Vaulter followed. The Axeman had heard tales of them, intrepid explorers emerging from their underground home, intent on gathering stories and knowledge, not unlike Kol'Rakul himself. He gave the man a solemn nod of acknowledgement before his eye caught another most peculiar creature, one that resembled an owl-man, with impressive feathers at that. His eyes quickly widened as he extended his hand in greeting. Indeed, the barbarian had formed friendships with a travelling group of said people, and had even wandered close to a village, once. "HAIL FIERCE KENKU! HOW GOES YOUR TRIBE! AND WHAT GLORIOUS PLUMAGE!"

Yet, just when everyone seemed to have arrived, he heard a familiar voice behind him. It was the fiery monk with an attitude to match. Oh, how could he forget. Truth be told, despite the constant friction between them, the Axeman had grown to like her temperament, as well as respect her fighting spirit. And despite all that, Kol'Rakul knew that this girl was troubled, and something truly vile gnawed at her. Facing her with fists against his waist, he yelled in a cheeky manner. "THEN I DREAD TO IMAGINE HOW SHARP AN AXE MY PERSONALITY MUST HAVE TO SLAY ME IN COMBAT. ALSO, I DON'T SEE ANY CHAINS ON YOU TO 'KEEP ME IN LINE'! HAW-HAW! COME HERE YOU NAGGING RASCAL!" He raised two burly arms for a hug, one still holding onto the axe, though he was unable to come closer, as his thoughts were interrupted by the wizard's speech.

Ah, the party would be split, interesting. Kol'Rakul was fine either way. Glorious combat was always around the corner either way, and cooperating to defend this city's people was, after all a priority. Seeing as there were still more to arrive, the Axeman did not speak up, and chose to rather wait for the entire party to form up and discuss it, and socialize in the meantime. His version of socializing was, of course, to sit upon the grass where he stood on, unscrew his massive mead horn, retrieve a whole bunch of cloth-wrapped meatbread rations and lay them next to him for a crude pic-nick, open for all to join.

[Starberries]

Amarilla paused in the near-constant readjusting of her cloak's hood as she noticed a series of more figures making their appearances to the area, each increasing the group's size one by one with their entrances. The first to arrive with a ruckus was the gnome ringmaster, immediately capturing Amarilla's attention with his entourage of crafted companions. With an excited and enthralled "Oooh!" Amarilla had almost immediately begun dashing wide circles around the series of constructs to get a better view of each one while she listened to the ringmaster's introduction. "These are so amazing, how do they work? Are they magic? I bet they can all do all sorts of neat tricks and things, can't they?"

Next to take her was the feathered being, the owl man making his presence known to the group next. Amarilla's grin continued as she listened to the words of the avian newcomer and the Axeman's following greeting. "Bird people? Kenku? I think I read about them once, maybe? I never thought I'd meet a bird person before! Hello bird person, it's nice to meet you!" She waved her hands once more in greeting at the two new additions and, not long after, found herself doing so yet again at the arrival of the two next individuals to appear. The first, introducing himself as Andrik Nordin, reminded Amarilla of a detail she had forgotten to include in her excitement. "Ohh, I didn't introduce myself at all, did I?! Oops! My name's Amarilla! It's nice to meet you all, hello everyone! I'm excited to work alongside you all!"

The final arrival Amarilla assumed to be a martial artist of some sort once she noticed the clawed weapons that the woman carried. Amarilla repeated an abridged form of her overly excited introduction, "Hello, I'm Amarilla, hi, hello!" She barely finished the sentence before she had moved on to her next thought,stepping forward and admiring the claws aside from the sunlight glinting off of them which she briefly shielded her eyes from, not letting it deter her enthusiasm. She stepped back again when she heard Irthorne speak up, listening to the new details he was disclosing to the gathered group.

Amarilla took no interest herself in the thought of staying on the surface in this blaring sunlight, but she was curious in who might offer to stay and who would be descending into the depths, as well as who the remaining few who had yet to arrive might be. She began more excited fidgeting with her cloak while walking around the various people who had already gathered as she waited to see the final results.

[BKburke]

Masrith was making his way to the crypt. He was accompanied by three town gaurds. Masrith looked at the cuffs around his wrists. "Was this really nessecary?" His dark voice echoed in their heads. One guard turned to make eye contact. "You are a race known for enslaving amd eating other races. You haven't committed any crime, bit it's the only way to stop people from wanting to kill you on sight." Masrith squinted his five eyes. "So be it." He continued walking, observing the scenery. "I've never been in the town before. What normally takes place?" The same guard began to speak up. "Well, since of late, the crypt has gone and gotten people stirred up. What with the undead an all." Masrith eyed the guard. "Makes sense. The scrolls say tall dwarfs range from brave to very cowardly individuals. Does this depend on age or perhaps the diet one partakes in? I have come to understand tall dwarfs have an adaptaptable digestive system." The guard looked confused. "You talk like we are some kind of animal to be studied." Masrith did not change his facial expression, not that it was easy to read anyway. "We treat every race like that. I apologize if it was offensive." The guard released his pent up posture. "It's fine. Not much is known about you people either." The guard infront stopped the group. "We're here. Stay here, I'll talk to the wizard." The guard soon approached Irthorne. "Pardon for any interruptions, but we have a umm...thing." the guard was hesitant for a moment. "We umm...well...an Illithid has answered your call sir. He..he is over there." The guard said pointing to Masrith. The same guard that conversed with Masrith earlier was taking off the restraints that bounded Masriths' wrists. The lead guard turned to Irthorne. "Would you like for us to take him back or let him join you...sir?"

[Cuccoruler]

Feon leaned back on seemingly nothing as she rolled her eyes at what Kol'Rakul had said. Him and his wit, and his yelling. "Yeah well watch yourself can't be trying to hold you back this whole time ya oaf." Feon said, she never did treat Kol'Rakul very nicely, but that was because she was so used to everything.

This was around the time she noticed the young pale girl come up to her, introduce herself and then go to look at the claws hanging on the back of her sash. "Amarilla huh? I'm Feon. So long as you keep up that energy of yours kid, maybe you can help me keep the oaf in line huh?" Feon said showing the girl a rather dumb looking smile. "And as for staying up here, I think there is way more adventure to be had down there. And I'm quite sure Kol here is gonna be heading down. Someone needs to watch him." Feon added again with her rather dumb looking smile.

Feon continued to try and ignore the circus master. She wanted nothing to do with that kind, never quite liked that kind. Always annoying and loud.

Of course as there were so many in this group Feon couldn't pay attention to everyone. It was just better to pay attention to small groups as to not confuse someone for someone else.

[Horrid]

@Banana@Starberries@Turbowraith

Bartimus, in all of his birdly curiosity, regarded each of his new companions individually with a turn of his head to each of them and a quizzical tilt to the side. His body remained stationary as his head revolved on its axis almost 180 degrees in each direction to size up each of the party members that arrived.

Kol'Rakul's offered friendly hand surprised Bartimus but he did not turn it away. He took the gesture with cautious deliberation before offering his arm and gripping the large man's at the forearm, taking care not to dig his claws in.

"Well met, large one. I am Bartimus. The art of the axe is an underappreciated marvel in these parts. I have only seem axemen taking their quarrel to the tree's for firewood. Hardly a fierce opponent. I am eager to see a true artisan in motion. I am sure we can learn much from each other."

His 'horns' quirked as another voice called out for the bird person present. A higher-pitched voice, belonging to the very pale girl decked out in the trappings of an alchemist. Her girlish crooning coupled with the barbarian's comments on his plumage fed an ego that Bartimus had worked hard to suppress, and he subconscious ruffled his feathers and stood taller. Instead of looking more imposing however, He merely looked more approachable. More... soft.

"A pleasure to meet you too, young alchemist. One hopes that over the course of this endeavor, I might have an opportunity to regale you with tales of my nest. The proud history of my people. Books cannot capture it's essence fully. It's all chickenscratch to be frank."

He capped the statement off with a soft hoot before Irthorne began his speech. Bartimus nodded along and at the mention of needing people for the surface, began rubbing at his beak as if rubbing at a tickle in a human nose. When Irthorne approached asking for a favor, Bartimus leaned in with interest and attention firmly held by the gnome.

"I'm of no mind to reject a request. What need have you of this lowly Kenku?"

[BCTheEntity]

Skarrab-Alea appeared on the scene a scant minute after Irthorne's initial speech had ended. It wasn't that she intended to be late, not at all; only, sunlight was such a rare and intriguing sight for her, granted that many of her kind chose to live in the more shadowy places of the world, and she rather felt a need to enjoy today's bright and sunny for as long as she could before descending into the crypt proper. And judging from what she'd caught of the royal advisor's speech, there would be some who had to stay behind after all, and whilst the light was good to enjoy, what a pity it'd be to have come all this way just to stand around outside the place doing most likely nothing whatsoever.

But, before revealing herself proper, she figured she ought to take a moment determining the character of each person here. There was the court mage himself, of course worthy of respect if not admiration; a large and excessively boisterous man who drew attention to himself like moths to a flame, most likely a tall dwarf, though half-giant wouldn't surprise her either, and evidently not worth much of her time either way; two other beings she assumed were tall dwarves, one evidently a holy woman of some form and the other dressed in some form of knightly armour... she'd consider small talk with them both, if they proved worth the chat; another gnome, this one surrounded by many and varied devices that lived despite being made of nonliving materials... perhaps an enchanter like herself? Nonetheless, she could likely talk with him and discuss their respective works, perhaps benefiting them both in the long run; some form of strong-seeming owl man, with bird legs and an owlish head, and having a private discussion with Irthorne, and he was wearing blue after all, so possibly richer than he looked; and a pale, very enthusiastic tall dwarf who felt the need to talk with anyone and everyone there in a loud voice. Not overly endearing, though she may end up forced to talk with her anyway.

And that beggared the question of "how will they react when they see me?" It wasn't as though arakhan were particularly common sights on the surface world, and of those present, it seemed the most physically odd individual as far as the group's mean appearance went was the owlman talking to Irthorne... though the personalities on stage were certainly likely to outshine hers in terms of oddity. The train of thought trailed off, of course, when the illithid was brought into the clearing in chains and surrounded by three guards... hold on, was that an illithid? It was a bit large to be a standard illithid, and it did seem to have both back tentacles and several extra eyes. She'd seen a few illithids in the Arakhan caves before, mostly from a few hundred meters away, and they all appeared rather more uniform than that... oh, perhaps this was one of their leader figures? What were they called, Ultralids? Ultralithids? Something silly along those lines.

Either way, she no longer particularly needed to worry about being the strangest individual in the area. Not that she was worried before, only she'd heard tall dwarves hated spiders, that they liked to squish them and pull off their legs one by one. She supposed it was just the axe-bearer who might try that with her. Maybe the Ultralisk too. Ultharid. Whatever. Regardless, she finally stepped toward the group, moving as elegantly as her refined upbringing and substantial gymnastics training would allow, her upper pair of arms swinging as they'd expect whilst the other four remained planted on her hips, not drawing too much attention to themselves at first glance. Or perhaps they would. Once more, why did she care what the rabble thought of her? Indeed, though she intended to apologise to Irthorne for her slight lateness, he was presently occupied; until then, why not let them come to her? Establish that she was waiting for them to respond to her, and so immediately establish who stood where and so on.

[DracoLunaris]

After having introduced himself he saw the arrival of the monk. There was something about her, something that made the unnatural purple scales, that had been growing on his body since he interrupted the cult ritual in the ruins, itch and pulse in reaction. It what not something he had experienced before, the scales had always been an helpful change with the strength they brought with them, this was the first time their presence was anything other than an oddity. He resolved to speak with her, though how to begin such a conversation was a difficult question and as such he would wait for a while, she was currently occupied by her conversation with the large ax wielding man. Speaking of him the man looked like he might have once belonged to one of the tribes his people had encountered when they arrived on the surface, in any case he had returned the nod the man gave him as he arrived before his traveling companion arrived and perhaps that might give him an opening line with the pair. He briefly examined the excitable hooded individual, her pale complexion not so unusual to him, before the exodus his people had had similar complexion from their time deep in their vaults and were rather confused at the change that occurred as they were exposed to the sun for the first time in their history.

At this moment the royal adviser step up on a stump and made his announcement. He considered which task he would most prefer to take part in. certainly the tomb would be more preferable for his desire to fight the undead but he had experience with fortifying and defending positions, something he expected the other adventurers might not be so interested in. It never did well to leave your rear exposed nor to have the sentries be the kind of individuals who would get bored and wander off guard it.He Imagined that the Irthorne at least would appreciate a well secured exit or reinforcements in case something went wrong. His ponderings were interrupted by the arrival of two more individuals.

The tentacled humanoid with three eyes escorted by guards was certainly hard to miss though Andrik did not recognize the species they must certainly considered dangerous if they were brought here in chains, though why such a creature was to be in-trusted with helping free the town from the undead despite was a question that needed asking.

Finally from the woods, came a humanoid spider dressed in what could only be described as an eccentric garbe but what interested him more than her species or outfit where the weapons she carried. The small weapons bore an unmistakable resemblance to some of the weapon blueprints his people had retrieved from the ruins of their home. Those had clearly been the basis for the aesthetic of the bow he carried yet even the most gifted of their scholars and engineers could make neither heads nor tails of the supposed workings of the devices. The designs were filled with references to unknown ideas and technical language, nobody had any idea what plasma, a Tesla coil or an electromagnet field where. At any rate she was standing a way of as if expecting someone to approach her first, perhaps she was shy or more likely judging from here outfit, someone of notable wealth or power trying to make a point of their superiority. Seeing a threefold opportunity to learn of here race, her weapons and making diplomatic contact with one of power he decided to approach and make polite conversation with the possible aristocrat. He also retrieved the tablet and hung it from a more reachable position on his belt in case he learned something that was worth documenting.

“Greeting madam, if you missed it the organizer Irthorne has just announced his intention to split the party into one that will enter the cave and one that will act as a rear guard to see of any flanking or enforcing hostiles. Also may I enquirer to the nature of your weapons? I have not seen their like before“

[Gardevoiran]

@BKburke@Horrid

The wizard was about to ask the favor of Bartimus, but then he was rudely interrupted by a gaggle of guards. Naturally, he turned to the Ultharid and the escort of guards, and he looked up at the guard who asked the question to him of whether he should let the Ulthalid stay or not. With one big breath of air, his voiced deepened, now becoming that of something you'd hear from Gandalf, and he began to speak at that guard.

"YOU MISERABLE EXCUSE FOR THE PROTECTION OF THIS CITY! HOW DARE YOU CHAIN THIS ULTHARID UP AND THEN HAVE THE BALLS TO ASK IF HE CAN STAY OR NOT? AS LONG AS THIS PERSON IS WILLING TO HELP OUT WITH THIS MISSION, AND HE IS NOT HOSTILE TO THOSE WHO HE IS WORKING WITH, HE IS PERFECTLY ACCEPTABLE AS A CANDIDATE TO HELP WITH THE UNDERTAKING OF THIS DUNGEON. YOU ARE TO LEAVE THIS FINE MAN HERE UNDER MY SUPERVISION AND THEN LEAVE MY SIGHT AT ONCE. I WILL SPEAK WITH THE HEAD OF YOUR GUARD AS SOON AS I RETURN TO THE CITY AND SETTLE ACCOUNTS WITH THIS CRYPT!" ^{OOC Note: Changed colors so it's easier to read.}

The gnome finished his lecture of the guards, and then coughed a small bit. It was strenuous to do that sort of thing, but if it didn't make Irthorne feel good, then nothing could. He spoke again, this time out of breath. "... Ultharid, I'll speak with you in a small moment... let me handle one thing very quickly with Bartimus. The gnome spoke next to Bartimus, and he spoke of the favor. "There is a 14 year old coming.... she wouldn't take no for an answer... and I wanted to ask if you would help me watch over her... I'm not confident that I can leave her... as her own unit... You don't have to accept... but if you do... I'll be conversing with other folks."

Irthorne went over to the Ultharid next, and began to talk to him. It was a bit scary, being about a quarter of his height, but Irthrone has handled worse. "I apologize for that whole situation. I hope there aren't any hard feelings? I'm Irthorne, and if you don't mind me asking, who are you?"

[Kafka Komedy]

Kara trekked down the simple dirt road towards the dungeon she had accepted the task of clearing out. Azarel was particularly enthusiastic about the endeavour. Guilt free LOVE from mindless, hateful undead was a thing he insisted she not pass up, and as always, she was inclined to agree. Of course, it was a bit of a walk. She didn't exactly have the luxury of having a tent to sleep wherever she wanted. The funds from this quest would help alleviate that.

There they are... chimed Azarel. He was talking about her help on the mission, many of which she would have a hard time pinning a race on. The world beyond her tribe was truly interesting. She wanted to ask all of these people what they did, how they got here, who they were. But the one that grabbed her eyes most was a black haired girl. She caught a glimpse of her eyes. They were red, like Kara's. Her back was covered too. Azarel, do you think she's a fairy aswell? Kara asked her partner. He took a second to respond, clearly looking over her features. She could be... but I don't know. I don't know what fairies look like outside of your clan. Red eyes could be something only you have. He reasoned. He would definitely ask her, at a later date. When they were alone and, if it came to blows...

Finally, she was close to them all, talking distance. She introduced herself to them all with a smile, a "Hello!", and the drawing of her dagger from its sheath. Personal introductions were to first be given to her boss. He had been insistent she not come because of her young age, unaware of her power beyond her light ability to draw power from ghosts and ability with her dagger. She was more insistent she ought to come, though, and seeing as she had no money, deigned to let her in on the quest. Apparently there was a necromancer inhabiting a nearby crypt. Though no dead had ever bothered her tribe, much closer to the crypt, tall dwarfs, dwarfs, and elves had insisted the place be cleared out. As Azarel suggested, not just elves were prone to fear, rage, and harm.

"Hello, Wizard Irthorne." Kara greeted, extending her dagger at him first, before realizing the faux pas and switching to her open left palm. "It is nice you allowed me to do work despite my young age. I won't let you down." With a smile that revealed she was, honestly, a little excited at the prospect of getting to harm something. Azarel certainly had been.

[Bishop]

As more and more joined the group so did the Shadow get more and more curious. It traversed from one person's Shadow to the next getting a feel of their physical attributes. It was particularly curious about the mechanical contraptions. It was true that they had witnessed creations like those before but as much as people differed from each other so did the mind of inventors and in return so did the creations themselves. It was like seeing a new species everytime, no one built the same thing for the most part.

Well, it was time, Lorick thought to himself as he closed the clock and pocketed it. He got up, wiped away some dirt from his clothes and made for the others. A quite peculiar group indeed. He didn't need any introduction though as the Shadow was there to witness them all and what the Shadow knows he knows.
Cane in hand he approached the band.
"Apologies for my tardiness. My name is Lorick Lockwell and I'm looking forward to working with you all."- he introduced himself while taking a courteous bow. The Shadow seeing this, exaggerated the action in an attempt to mock him. Well, hope no one noticed that.

[BKburke]

Masrith rolled his wrists as the restraints were removed. He turned to see the group of people gather as well as Irthorne verbally tear into a guard. Masrith was somewhat surprised. Noone ever defended an Illithid. Masrith watched as the guards walked off. Masrith turned to face Irthorne and looked down at him. "I have nothing against them." The voice would ring in Irthornes head. "I apologize if this form of communication disturbs you. It is how Illithids communicate. We have no need for verbal speech." Masrith examined the group. "There are things the books do not say about them that I will need to note." His gaze turned back toward Irthorne. "My name is Masrith. I am what is known as an Illithid. Well, more specifically, an Ulitharid. I am physically powerful, but am mostly known for a powerful mind. If you seek a strategist or an individual who could help analyze predicaments or documents then I can certainly be of use. I can also link minds using my psionic abilities to allow groups to communicate." Masrith kneeled down and stuck out his hand. His body movements were somewhat awkward. "I'm have to inform you. I do not represent any form of authority from the Illithid empire. I was exiled at birth form my mutations registered me as an abomination. I hope you still view me as a reliable assest to the group."