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Old September 12th, 2009, 11:16 PM
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Crawl Through the Dungeon

Author's Note: Alright, I've had this idea in my head ever since DnD scape was announced and I listened to this song by CCR and the title is stolen from that song. Sorry CCR. I've threatened to right it down, (mostly to my cat) and I'd thought I'd share it with you guys. I haven't done a fanfic in forever, and hopefully this will be fun for you, me, and Depree. (Okay, maybe not Depree, whoever that is.)


Crawl Through the Dungeon

By Dragonfire9788

“So……” The incredibly annoying agent began. “Are you sure you never voted in 1940?”
“Well, since I was only 17, I don’t see how I could,” The army man replied to the incredibly annoying agent. “How many times must I tell you this?”
Ticalla Jungle was truly a terrible place for anyone to be. Especially just merry travelers. The bugs would eat you alive; literally, the remnants of the army of Aquilla were still lurking around, searching for a tasty snack. It was very easy to get lost among the large trees and creepers. You could wander aimlessly for days until you realized you were lost.
Not this group though. They had a map. This map was a very old map and was held by the woman in front of the army man who was still being patronized by the incredibly annoying agent. This woman was very slender and about the same size of the incredibly annoying agent. She wore a large purple cloak pulled over a golden body-suit and her many accessories. In one hand, she held the old, tattered map, rolled into a cylinder to be carried easily. In here other hand she carried a long, wooden staff. At the end of the staff, was a small brown gem in a protective bulge. As she walked, her bright, red hair flew behind her, nearly hitting the army man in the face. Nearly.
The army man was growing very angry of the persistence of the incredibly annoying questions pitched to the army man made by the incredibly annoying agent. He was trying to ignore him and focus on the road ahead, which was blocked a bit by the woman’s hair. Still, he would rather look at that then answer the incredibly annoying agent’s questions.
The army stood about a head taller than both the women and the incredibly annoying agent (as you recall, I told you they were about the same height). Tallness was common thing in the army man’s family. His father was about 6’ 5” and his mother was 6’ 4”. He was about 6’ 6” himself. Hopefully his boots didn’t fit into this estimate of his height I am making just for the help of you, the reader. Anyway, this army man wore the standard dress. He wore a camo tunic and camo pants. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows revealing long, hairy, and muscular arms. His long combat boots dug into the ground every time he walked. It made sort of a gloshing sound. It had just recently rained in Ticalla.
The army man itched at his head. It was guarded by the standard army metal hat. Across his chest was a sash with three grenades tucked into the pouches. In his left arm, the army man held a long katana. This army man was left handed.
“So, yeah man, the first time I voted was in 2004, and then again in 2008. I voted democrat. Twice,” The incredibly annoying agent blathered on.
“How do you vote for the first time in 2004 and then again for the first time in 2008? More importantly, what are these random numbers you are throwing at Drake here?” The woman in front asked. Her interest had finally been piqued in this incredibly dull conversation which was part of another incredibly dull quest.
“Years, babe. Years. That’s the way we measure time back on Earth,” The incredibly annoying agent said.
“Dude,” The army man started up. “Can you just shut up for awhile? Maybe? I have a headache and you are not helping.”
“How bad?” The woman asked. “I can heal that.”
“No, its fine,” The army man replied. “All I need for is……the agent to be quiet.”
“Dude, how many times do I have to tell you,” The incredibly annoying agent said. “Is that my name is Cherokee. Like the Indian group. Call me that.”
“Its not your real name,” The army man replied.
“And how am I supposed to believe your real name is Drake Alexander?” The incredibly annoying agent questioned.
“Because it is……look just shut up! You’re killing me here, Cherokee,” When he said the last word, his voice detected a large hint of loathing aimed at the incredibly annoying agent, or Cherokee. We shall call him that now, as that is indeed his real codename.
“How is he killing you? I don’t think the agent has gone rogue? Has he?” The woman was confused now.
“It’s an expression,” The army man and Cherokee both answered at the same time.
“And what are these ‘expression’ things you guys keep talking about?” The woman questioned again.
“You might wanna say ‘idioms’, Drake,” Cherokee said to the army man, whose name was indeed Drake. “Sounds more deliciously British and fancy.”
“Ah,” The woman understood. “ ‘Idioms’. ‘Expressions’ just must be a jargon word.”
“Indeed,” Drake sighed. “Now, can we all just be quiet.”
“Fine, your majesty,” Cherokee said with a hint of sarcasm. “I was just trying to liven the mood since we lost Erevan.”
“Wait,” The woman began, confused again. “Why did you just call Drake, your majesty? Are you in service to him?
Cherokee sighed then ran his hands through his rather short hair. He had it combed back to the end of his head. He wore a sharp, black suit with a black tie and dress pants and shoes. He wore a pair of sunglasses and held a 9mm glock in his hand. His sunglasses happened to look like those of the Blues Brothers. “Where did we get this chick Drake?”
“I’ll tell you if you shut up,” Drake said, irritated.
“Sure, why not?” Cherokee said.
“Adrian found her.”
“Where?”
“Lindesfarm.”
“Is that it?”
“She’s from Eberron.”
“Really?”
“You have no idea what Eberron is, do you?”
“Nope. Reminds me of something, though. Something I played in College.”
“Ultimate Frisbee?”
“Ha. I’m wearing off on you now, Drake.”
“Sure, why not?”
“Wait a minute,” The woman said again. “You guys have a chick from my world? Where would you keep that?”
Drake gave a very long sigh. This was going to be a long trip.

(Note: Shorter than it could be, but I am basically using it for a placeholder. Just in case someone else was going to use this title for a thread.)

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Gotta Go to the Sig Bank.

Last edited by dragonfire9788; September 12th, 2009 at 11:33 PM. Reason: Fixed. Thanks timemaster.
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  #2  
Old September 12th, 2009, 11:28 PM
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Re: Crawl Through the Dungeon

Fantastic and quite enjoyable read. Only a few small errors in the wording (you can't fold a map into a cylinder, only roll, I think. I might be wrong.) and they didn't hamper the read at all. I can't wait to see where this story is going to go, so consider me the first fan of this peice of fanfic .

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Old September 13th, 2009, 08:52 PM
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Re: Crawl Through the Dungeon

Timemaster: Thank you for your feedback and the notice of the error. It has been fixed.

Update Time

“Oh, drat!” The lone elf shouted as he tripped over a long creeper as he sprinted through the jungle. “I’ll never find them again after night fall!”
The lone elf was quickly back on his feet and sprinting through the jungle once again. He was pretty fast and nimble; easily ducking and dodging the vines, branches, creepers, and other obstacles provided by the jungle to give him a harder time running. Suddenly, he stopped in his path, and looked around frantically. His breathing was heavy and raspy. He was rather worried.
“Maybe I could……” The lone elf started. “No…..they couldn’t see that…..through the canopy.”
The elf was looking up at the trees and the dense overgrowth that clouded the jungle in a very light shade of yellow. He could tell by the position of the light reflecting off the leaves that it was rather. It was getting late, and, as he had stated earlier, he would never be able to find his friends after dark.
“Drat!” The lone elf shouted yet again. “They could be anywhere! Anywhere! Anywhere in this accursed jungle!”
As the lone elf let his frustration show, he deeply ran his fingers through his very long, white hair. It sat atop his rather narrow head which included his trademark pointed ears. He wore a long purple coat along with a blue tunic and long brown pants. At his side was a dagger, stored in its appropriate leather sheath. The lone elf cast his light, blue eyes everywhere across the forest. He was searching for something. Something that could give evidence of his comrades being here. He could find nothing.
Wait, he heard something. The lone elf pricked up his ears to catch the sound. It was getting closer as time went on. It was a gurgling sound and a mashing sound combined into one really weird sound. As it got louder, the lone elf could hear that whatever was making that sound was getting closer. The lone elf quickly leapt into a bush and pushed some of the reeds apart so he could look out of the bush. Now he could see the sound without it seeing him.
He saw the sound maker slowly come into view. It was a large brown spider, about the size of a normal-sized dog. It was slowly inching along the path among the trees. It was rather fast moving and was now in the position the lone elf was in just a minute ago.
“A beast of Aquilla…….I never thought I would live to see one in person,” The lone elf slowly thought to himself. He was not really worried about the spider, as it had not seen him. Yet.
There was a tree. A rather large jungle tree with a small jungle bird perched at the top. This bird was completely oblivious to what was going on below. The bird was about the size of an adult toucan and had just as large of a beak. It was clad in various colours and shades of colours. Red, blue, green, periwinkle, all were there on the colour confused bird.
The bird flew from the top branch on the tree and lands upon a branch a bit closer to the ground. This branch just happened to be positioned right above a bush with a familiar lone elf hiding inside of it from a massive spider.
The bird then squawked. Loudly.
And the spider leaped from its place on the path and right onto the branch with the bird positioned on it. The spider tackled the bird and sent it flying off the branch into the bush. Since this is usually how the spiders of Aquilla hunt, I would assume that the spider bit down on the bird as it landed on the branch. As everyone knows, these spiders are extremely venomous, and if the spider bit down upon the bird, sadly, the winged animal wouldn’t have stood a chance. This is all what I am assuming, of course.
The bird fell into the bush, right upon the lone elf hiding there.
“Ahhh!!!!” The lone elf yelped as he jumped straight out of the bush and back onto the jungle path. “Son of a-”
The lone elf then took notice of the spider slowly turning its way over to him.
“Drat,” The lone elf said quietly as he brought his arm behind him. “And…..fireball!”
A plume of flame erupted as quick as a flash in the lone elf’s hand he had placed behind him. He suddenly swung forward, pitching the plume of flame, now its own fireball, straight into the tree with the spider perched on it.
The spider leapt from the tree and onto the path just as the tree exploded into a colourful light show of flames and sparks. The wood cracked and burned. Leaves smoldered and dropped off the tree on contact. A nearby bush and tree also caught fire along with the tree. From a far position away, the fire would look beautiful. However, it was not to the lone elf. He hated to use his arcane arts to harm living things. Any type of living thing.
“I’m sorry tree,” The lone elf thought to himself as he turned to face the spider. His acute elf nose picked up the strong burning smell of the nearby lit tree. The fire was generating a large cloud of smoke which was slowly rising into the evening sky. “I really hope they see that.”

“I still don’t understand why they call it Greenland,” Cherokee announced, oblivious to what was happening about fifty feet away.

The spider shrunk onto its hind legs, and pounced. The lone elf was thankfully smart enough to roll away in time as the spider slid away along the path, turning up dirt and dust as he went.
The lone elf then quickly regained his posture and stood up. “I’m sorry about this…..fireball!”
The lone elf launched another fireball straight at the spider. The spider, fully alert to the situation, ran forward to dodge the fire. The fireball safely (in a loose term) crashed into a bush, allowing the bush and a nearby tree to erupt in a plume of fire and smoke.
The spider, running straight at the lone elf, pounced into the air, aiming its poisoned teeth straight at the lone elf’s neck. The lone elf instantly dropped to the floor and the spider safely sailed over him and it came crashing into the ground.
Both elf and arachnid regained the positions and posture within five seconds. They then quickly turned to face each other, ready to fight the next round.
“Leave now creature,” The lone elf said. “I wish no harm to you.”
The spider merely growled and prepared the stinger in his thorax at its hearing of the lone elf’s statement. This was an ample rebuttal for a spider. This usually meant that the spider now considered this a fight to the death. However, the lone elf did not know this.
The spider immediately darted to the left to attempt to flank the lone elf with its amazing speed. The lone elf had prepared for this and shot a fireball and the spot the spider would be at in a couple of seconds. Luckily, the spider had quick enough reflexes and was able to turn around and dash quickly over to the other side of the path while the lone elf stood in the middle of the path.
The lone elf then jumped backwards a couple of feet thinking the spider was coming straight at him, instead to the side of him like the spider really was doing. “I really hope my comrades can see the fire.”

“So,” The agent began. “Whose career would you rather have: Mark Walberg or Leonardo DiCaprio?”

The spider jumped, and at this point, the lone elf turned and ran. It was a pretty smart move. This spider was too fast and he didn’t want to waste all his arcane abilities on a meager house pest. Well, a meager house pest the size of a full grown dog.
However, the lone elf didn’t realize one crucial fact. The spider was faster than him.
As the elf ran, he could hear the sounds of the spider’s eight legs quickly scuttling over the soft, dirt path that they both ran on. The lone elf knew what he had to do. He jumped into the air, a good three feet (elves are far better jumpers than you or I) and shot a fire ball straight at the path. The lone elf then came crashing down onto the path and rolled a few feet along the path. He was then stopped by a small rock in his path.
The spider, being a rather impressive jumper, was able to successfully leap over the fire and the lone elf and completely overshoot his target. He landed about five feet away from where the lone elf lay.
The lone elf, now having the initiative, shot up onto his feet and ran off the path and into the deep undergrowth at the side of the path. He slowly stumbled among the scattered creepers and branches and even crashed through a spider web the size of his head until he stumbled out of the dense undergrowth and right into Agent Cherokee who was blathering to Drake on the official trail of the Ticalla Jungle.
“Oof….” The lone elf grunted as he crashed into the agent and sent them both tumbling along the official trail.
This, of course, brought the attention of the other members of Cherokee’s party. That would encompass Drake and the woman. They both turned around to face both Cherokee and the lone elf that were both lying in a heap on the official trail.
Drake started to crack up and began laughing hysterically at Cherokee as he pushed the lone elf off of him and regained his position standing up. “Oh, hello, Erevan.”
“Oh, hello,” Erevan, or the lone elf, said as he held up his hand, asking for help up.
The woman accepted this plea and grabbed Erevan’s arm and helped him stand back up. “There you go Erevan.”
“Thank you milady,” Erevan said while bowing to the woman. “You all don’t act surprised to see me.”
“I’m surprised on the inside,” Cherokee said while straightening his tie.
“Well,” Drake began, regaining his serious demeanor after Cherokee stood back up. “After we lost you back at that turn off, we assumed the jungle ate you.”
“You still should be surprised,” Erevan said while straightening himself up.
“I don’t get surprised,” The woman said.
“This ain’t exactly shocking,” Drake said. “I thought we would find you sooner or later. Dead or alive.”
“That’s very pessimistic of you,” Erevan sneered.
“I’m not exactly thrilled that you’re back,” Cherokee said while moving away from the group and continuing his walk on the official trail. This was a symbol for the group that they need to move on to their main objective. The important one. Not that stupid side-quest they got from that drunk at the tavern.


(Note: I have no real note other than that, do read this, you should see those images by Retlaw of DnD Scape.)

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Old September 16th, 2009, 05:03 PM
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Re: Crawl Through the Dungeon

No more feedback? Oh well, I'll take my 95 views.

Update Time

The forest opened up. A large batch of light from the setting, evening sun poured into the jungle. No clouds hung overhead to block the light. It would be dark soon in about an hour and the light would be gone. For now, it was magnificent.
There was a reason the jungle opened up at this spot, however. A large slit cut deep into the ground at the sigh of this opened. There was almost no room for the jungle to stop growing that slit cut it off so well. An adventurer that lost his way in the jungle could easily tumble off the edge of this slit and straight into the valley below. Yep, that’s right, a deep ravine covered in even more vegetation and jungle that formed a valley cut deep, deep into Ticalla Jungle.
However, the moon tribe (ancient inhabitants of the area) had decided to reward those that were smart enough to stay on the path. They built a rickety rope bridge across the ravine that led to; guess what, even more jungle and aimless wandering. Cliché, I know. Granted, the kyrie of the ancient moon tribe could have easily just flown over, but what about their pack mules? They had to get across somehow right? That’s where this bridge came into play.
How does this pertain to the story? If you hadn’t guessed it yet, please go read a book or watch and adventure movie. For those of you who have guessed it already, good for you. They, evidently, had to cross it. And if you have seen that many adventure movies, you can guarantee that this bridge will break while the main character (who usually walks the bridge last) attempts to cross it. I’m not saying this is what is going to happen, I am just saying that I have never specified who the main character. I’ve given you four people. Let’s leave it at that.
Our group stepped out of the small opening of the jungle and cautiously looked around the ravine. Suddenly, they were very thankful they took the path. Next, they took a look at the bridge.
“Oh, crap,” Cherokee moaned. “This is so dreadfully cliché!”
Omigosh! I already said that! Just shut up, Cherokee! Stop making me feel bad!
“Well,” Drake began. He was pondering a possible strategy to get across this. “We have to cross it. Ana, what does the map say?”
The women, or Ana, quickly unfolded the map and took a very long look at it. “This is on the map. If my measurements are correct, then the Dungeon of Aquilla should be just beyond that treeline.” She rolled the map back up and pointed straight at the line of trees on the other side of the ravine.
“Well,” Cherokee took a step forward and critically examined the bridge. “Who of us weighs the most?”
Drake pointed straight at the agent. “You, probably.”
“Well,” Cherokee thought about it for awhile. “I couldn’t disagree to that.”
“It’s settled,” Erevan said while clapping his hands together. “You go first. If you can walk the entire thing without breaking a section, then we should easily be able to go across.”
“I realize that, Erevan,” Cherokee said that coarsely. He still had hard feelings towards that elf for what he did earlier. “I just have a bad feeling about this.” The power of the cliché was affecting the agent.
Cherokee swallowed a bit and looked at Drake. He then took one step forward on the bridge. He was forcefully gripping the rope guards on the rickety rope bridge. You know, the things that keep you from falling off? He placed both feet on the first plank of wood on the bridge and it didn’t break. That’s good. He then moved onto the next one. It didn’t break. This bridge seemed stable enough. He then began to walk across the bridge as he normally would, however, he still gripped the guards very, very, hard. It was a death grip.
Within a few minutes, Cherokee was on the other side, and was beginning to feel silly for dreading that entire trip across the bridge. “Hey!” He shouted to the group. “The bridge is fine! Send the next over!”
Drake motioned to the bridge with his hands and bowed to Ana. “Ladies first.”
“You gentlemen here on Valhalla are so courteous…..” Ana said as she began her journey across the bridge.
“Meh, my weight’s all muscle, my doctor proved it back in junior high,” Cherokee said silently to himself.
And then Ana joined Cherokee on the other side of the bridge. It was a relatively easy crossing and she didn’t have any annoyances about it.
“Drake!” Ana shouted. “You next!”
Drake was about to start his way over when Erevan approached him and placed his hands on the army man’s shoulder. “Hey, do you mind if I go?”
Drake, confused as to why the elf would ask this, yet not caring why, stepped to the side. This was a general body language motion for, “Go. It’s your funeral.”
Erevan took one cautious step onto the first plank and turned around to face Drake. “Bridge is pretty stable? Why don’t you just come with me?”
“Sounds good,” Drake said. “Cherokee got across in one piece after all.”
“All muscle!” Cherokee, who had really good hearing, shouted.
“Sure,” Drake muttered as he followed right behind Erevan as they began to cross the bridge. Drake was not nervous about this at all. He had been in more dangerous situations than this. He could tell that Erevan was also not very nervous. This was actually pretty easy. How hard is it to walk across a bridge?
That’s when the arrows start flying. A small slim arrow flew right by Drake’s face and fell straight over the bridge. The arrow had missed Drake by inches. “Crap, duck!” He shouted as he dove the floor of the planks on the bridge. Erevan was quick to copy him as he dove as well.
“What the hell was that?” Drake asked as another arrow soared over the bridge.
“An arrow,” Erevan said.
Drake rolled his eyes while he slowly drew his katana. “Look,” He turned to Erevan. “We’re going to run. Run straight for the other side. We shall flee into the bushes. Hopefully, those firing the arrows won’t give pursuit. Understand?”
Erevan slowly nodded his head. He understood what was to be done, but he was very nervous about it.
Drake stood up. An arrow was instantly shot and flew over his head. This quickly brought the army man back to the floor of the planks. This gave Drake some information. The attackers could see them.
“Okay, then new plan,” Drake said to Erevan. He was growing a bit worried now.
“What is it?” Erevan asked while waiting with breathless anticipation. Or sarcasm.
“Um….you have any ideas?”
“Not at this moment, no,” Erevan said dryly.
“How about now?”
“Still none.”
“Maybe they left?”
“Wanna check?”
“Not exactly.”
“You wanna call Cherokee?”
“Sure. Hey! Cherokee! Are they gone?”
Cherokee, who was hiding behind a tree until this very moment, stepped out from behind a large jungle tree. He heard Drake’s call and responded, “How am I supposed to know!?!”
“I just thought you might!” Drake shouted back. “You don’t need to be a jerk about it!”
The army man then stood up just as another arrow whisked over his head. This caused Drake to dive back to the floor of the bridge. “There. They are still there.”
“Good job, Drake,” Erevan was not in any case amused.
“Look, let’s just sprint,” Drake said. “Just run. As fast as we can.”
“I don’t see why not,” Erevan responded. “Other then getting arrows in our backs.”
“Just shut up and work with me here!” Drake shouted.

On the other side of the bridge, Ana was hiding herself in some brush near the edge of the ravine, under the orders of Cherokee of course. She was to be hidden so that those shooting the arrows couldn’t find her. She scanned her eyes around the bridge. If only she could find the bowmen. She saw Erevan and Drake cowering on the bridge and she also saw Cherokee in broad daylight, cursing his socks off under his breath. That’s when she saw it.
An arrow flew from the top of the canopy and landed right at the feet of the agent. This caused the ever reflexive agent to immediately spin around and fire once into the trees with his gun that he pulled out of his belt at the same time. There was suddenly a dropping sound in the jungle and Cherokee holstered his gun.
“What was that!” Drake shouted.
“I think I just killed our attacker!” Cherokee shouted back. “Try standing up!”
Drake took one look at Erevan. “You try it this time.”
“Fine,” The elf said as he stood up. He took two looks around and began walking across the bridge. He crossed over to the other side. He wasn’t even worried anymore. “Nice work, agent.”
“I do my best,” Cherokee said, ever humble. “That’s what 0-2 now?”
“What?” Erevan asked. He was confused now.
“You’re gonna have to work harder to even that score now,” Cherokee smugly said, pretending that Erevan could understand what he was talking about.
“What?” Erevan persisted.
Drake now stood up for himself and took a long look around. Slowly but surely, he began to make his way across the bridge and over to the other side. As he did this, Ana emerged from the bush.
“Who was that?” She asked.
“I don’t know,” Said Drake, playfully swinging his katana around. “Let’s go find out.”

(Note: I don't know what it is, but I feel like I rushed this. I know I didn't since it took me two days, but I don't know......)

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  #5  
Old September 16th, 2009, 05:14 PM
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Timemaster4 Timemaster4 is offline
 
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Re: Crawl Through the Dungeon

I think it was due to the sudden change in the narrators voice. Nontheless, I up-repped you for this story, or at least, I think I did...

(I'm gonna hafta try to do some fanfic now!)

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Old September 16th, 2009, 11:02 PM
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Re: Crawl Through the Dungeon

Blargh, here ya go. Two updates in one day. I felt less rushed on this one, however, even though it is shorter.

Update Time

Drake aimlessly chopped several branches to pieces with his katana then ran straight onto the path that they had just lost a few moments.
“Strange place to put a turn, eh?” Cherokee said as the group came out of the hole in the brush made by Drake and set foot onto the path.
“Even stranger that we haven’t found our now dead or wounded attacker,” Erevan agreed. He was just behind Cherokee and in front of Ana.
“Who knows?” Ana stated. “Maybe they got wounded and ran away or Cherokee missed?”
“Nah, nah,” Cherokee dismissed this idea. “I don’t miss. If they were wounded, we should have at least found a blood trail or a splatter somewhere.”
Drake turned to Cherokee. “Egoistical much?”
“Its true,” Cherokee persisted. “I don’t miss.”
“Are you sure?” Erevan was interested now.
“Yes, I got a perfect score back at the Krav Maga training facility. I don’t miss,” Cherokee continued walking down the path along with the rest of the group. “Well, you know, unless I miss.”
Drake sighed.
“Hey, I know my bullet hit skin. Flesh. I know it,” Cherokee insured. “Just trust me on this.”
“Just like when you told us to trust you to keep a watch on Erevan?” Ana snickered.
Drake joined in, “She’s right, kid. Erevan did get lost.”
“I know,” Erevan put in. “I have the scars to prove it.”
“How many times do I have to tell you guys,” Cherokee defended himself. “That purple flower was so incredibly distracting! And ‘kid’, Drake? Honestly? I’m 27? What are you, 30?”
“28...” Drake said with a smile.
“See! I win!” Cherokee jumped on this opportunity to announce his victory.
“You still ignore the fact that there was no incredibly distracting purple flower,” Ana pointed out.
“Meh, maybe it was a pile of dirt,” Cherokee said. “Those things are very similar.”
They walked in silence after that. No one even wasted the breath to point out that a pile of dirt and a purple flower look nothing alike. Their feet tread along the path at an average pace. They kicked up dirt in their wake and the continued till they came to a vast clearing. A few bright rays of light peered in through the overhanging canopy and affected the clearing of the trees. At this clearing the path stopped. The group of four walked out into the clearing. Drake took a look around the place and was suddenly confused.
“What? Did we take a wrong turn or something?” Drake asked.
Ana quickly unrolled the map and took a look at it. Erevan then came from behind and took a look over her shoulder. He spoke first, “Yep. We are going in the right direction.”
Drake looked around the circular clearing. There didn’t appear to be anywhere to go. There was no path leading out of the clearing, only the one leading into it. “Which direction is it?”
Erevan opened his mouth to speak and then silenced himself. He then muttered to Ana, “Do you know?”
Ana slowly shook her head and rolled the map back up. “No. The path ends here.”
Cherokee then realized the situation and grew angry. Very angry. He angrily kicked a rock straight into the bush. “All this way for nothing!”
“Well,” Drake was trying to get Cherokee to calm down. “Let’s just make camp here. Maybe we can find our way out by then.”
“That is a good idea,” Erevan agreed. “Now, did anyone bring any camp materials?”
“I don’t understand,” Ana thought to herself. “Adrian said the entrance to the dungeon would be right here.”

Our group made camp using some sheets Drake had brought in his little pouch that hung at his side. There were only three, so Cherokee gave up his sheet to Ana, doing the courteous thing, of course. Erevan and Drake then went to find some firewood while Cherokee and Ana stood watch over the clearing and their campsite. They returned awhile later and piled all the wood in the middle of the clearing. As Drake was about to light them with a match he found in his pouch, Erevan interrupted.
“Uh,” He began. “What do you think you are doing?”
“Lighting a fire,” Drake explained.
“Um, I can shoot fire out of my hands,” Erevan said while conjuring a wisp of flame on his finger.
“Oh right,” Drake had forgotten all about this.
With a quick touch on the pile, Erevan had successfully lit the fire. Good for him. By now, the sun had gone down over Ticalla Jungle and very little moonlight filtered in through the canopy of the trees. The only illumination came from the small fire.
“We should keep watch,” Erevan suggested. “That spider I fought was pretty mad today.”
“Sounds good,” Said Cherokee. He was currently eating a small granola bar he had found in his pocket. “Then tomorrow we find that guy that attacked us. Unless he survived and wants to kill us in our sleep.”
“That’s why we keep watch,” Drake explained. “I’ll take first watch, till 2:00 then Cherokee until 4:00 and then Erevan till the rest of us wake up. Each night we rotate who sleeps then entire night.”
“Sounds good,” Ana, Cherokee, and Erevan all agreed.
Within about an hour, Erevan and Ana were fast asleep. Even for an elf (a race that doesn’t even need to sleep, or trance, as they call it) he still slept like a rock. Ana slept equally as heavy, yet Cherokee remained awake.
“I can’t sleep earlier than midnight,” Cherokee explained earlier. “Haven’t done it since I was eight. Its possibly genetic.”
“Possibly?” Drake asked.
“Yeah, where there genetics back in your time, I mean, had scientists discovered them?” Cherokee asked.
“It was a theory,” Drake said.
“Ah,” Cherokee understood.
The two sat in silence for another while, until Cherokee revived the conversation. “So, what do you think attacked us today? And when did Erevan get attacked by a spider?”
“Must’ve been when he was alone in the jungle,” Drake answered.
“You didn’t answer the first question?”
“I honestly have no idea. Adrian said that there were little sentient beings in Ticalla. Not even Utgar’s forces ventured in here. I don’t know what it could be.”
“Weird. Isn’t that why we are here though?”
“Yes, indeed.”
Cherokee took a long look up at the canopy. “I wish we could see the moon. Valhalla has always had a pretty moon.”
“I know. Earth’s wasn’t too bad either.”
“You know, we landed on the moon.”
“Really? We as in humans, or we as in America?”
“America. Space Race, during the Cold War.”
“Cold War?”
“A long period of political unrest between the US and USSR. I took a long course on it back in my freshman year.”
“Oh, I went to Grammar School.”
“Really? Do they teach math there?”
“Maths? I….really can’t recall. I never thought I would use stuff in there in the outside world.”
“Yep. My thoughts exactly. Finally someone I can relate to.”
And with that, silence set upon them once again. Soon, Cherokee’s metabolism gave out and he fell asleep. The watch schedule went on perfectly and the group woke up again at 8 o’ clock sharp. Well, maybe not sharp. Cherokee was fashionably late.

(Note: Like I said, shorter, but I need to establish some stuff. They will get to the dungeon eventually, don't you worry.)

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Old September 20th, 2009, 12:43 PM
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Re: Crawl Through the Dungeon

Longer update, here we come. Song is Joy to the World by Three Dog Night.

Update Time

“Jeremiah was a bullfrog,
He was a good friend of mine
I never understood a single word he said,
but I helped him drink his wine
And boy it was a mighty fine wine!”
“Cherokee,” Drake interrupted. “What are you doing?”
“Singing,” Cherokee explained.
“Why?” Drake asked.
“To lighten the mood,” Cherokee said with a grin on his face.
“Well, stop,” Drake said sternly. “You’re not very good at it.”
“Fine then,” Cherokee gave up.
The group was currently busying themselves with the task of cleaning up the campsite. Cherokee and Drake were working to put all the sheets and the food back into Drake’s belt pouches while Erevan and Ana were eliminating any trace or evidence of them ever being in this clearing. How? Your guess is as good as mine.
However, eventually they finished and gathered around Ana, who was holding the map, in the center of the clearing. All of them were pouring over the map trying to find the correct way out of the clearing that didn’t include working backwards.
“See, the dungeon his here,” Ana pointed to the bottom right of the map. “And we are about half a mile away from it. The only problem is how do we get there? We can’t go through the undergrowth and the creepers. We’d get lost to easily.”
“We could hack our way through,” Drake suggested. “Use my katana as a machete.”
“Could work,” Cherokee said as he felt a cold, metallic feeling on the back of his neck. “Crap.”
“What is it?” Drake said and turned around to face Cherokee. He saw a dark figure holding a type a firearm to the agent’s neck. This figure was about two inches shorter than Cherokee.
“Move and he dies,” The figure said. It had a delightfully British accent.
“That’s so cliché,” Cherokee commented.
“Talk and you die,” The figure retorted. “Listen, two men are about to emerge from the underbrush in front of you. React violently and this snarky one dies.”
With that, two men came out of the underbrush in front of them, just like the mysterious figure said. The man on the right was about as tall as Cherokee. He wore a long, red overcoat and gray pants with large, black boots. His face was fairly normal and broad. It consisted of a large 5 o’ clock shadow and short, messy hair. This man was chewing, but I am pretty sure there was nothing in his mouth.
The man on the left was a bit shorter than the figure behind Cherokee. He was dressed identically to the man next to him and had a very narrow head with a gigantically large nose. He had a long moustache with a very small soul patch about to grow in. He was bald and had very small ears.
“Camo man,” The taller one said. “Answer my friend’s questions here. Okay?” His chewing continued even when he was talking.
“It’s Drake,” Drake corrected the man.
The smaller one ignored Drake and began to ask, “What is your business here in our jungle.”
“What business is it of yours what our business is, friendo?” Cherokee said in a very deep and drawl voice. He was obviously imitating someone.
“Silence!” The figure behind the agent shouted.
The smaller man went on, “Look, I want to know. We are here for a reason and we want to be sure you do not pertain to it.”
“And that is?” Erevan asked. He was bored with his update without him speaking.
“We are tracking a group of natives,” The smaller man explained. “They killed one of our own not two days ago and we want revenge before they kill anymore of us.”
“I’m so sorry,” Ana said, very concerned.
“I know, it was an ambush as well,” The smaller man continued. “In the middle of the night. They came with arrows and swords.”

As I recall, the night was moist. The humidity and mist around the air clung to your skin and annoyed your very soul. We had just found the perfect spot; it was on the other side of that ravine over there, to make camp for the night. We were current budding neutralists heading deep into the wilderness to escape the revolution.
We had made camp already and it was around two o’ clock in the morning. I was currently on watch, because, you can never know exactly what is looking at you in the jungle at night. The remnants of Aquilla’s army are everywhere and are just aching for their next meal.
I had been currently cleaning my saber, which I am currently concealing in my belt at this moment. I was sitting upon a fallen tree’s log and keeping careful watch with my keen eyes and ears. I had nothing yet except a loud rustling and cracking sound coming from the bushes to my left. I figured it as a small animal and thought nothing of it.
Boy, do I wish I hadn’t dismissed that sound. It had awoke my friend standing next to me here in about a few minutes. He stood up and made his way over to me.
“What is that sound?” He asked. He was fully alert. All of us had that ability. “I don’t like the sound of it.”
“What sound?” I questioned him as an arrow flew out of the brush and landed right between my feet.
“Ambush!” My friend next to me shouted and dived straight behind the log I was sitting upon.
I, personally, was holding my musket for use if anything dangerous appeared during my watch. I casually pointed it at the brush that the arrow came out of and waited. “Alright you jackass, let’s see how brave you are with a gun at your face!”
My other two comrades had emerged out of their sleep and had armed themselves and casually waited behind the log I had been sitting upon just moments earlier.
“Fire at will,” The man threatening your friend over there ordered. He is our leader and was ready for a fight any day of the week. He just didn’t enjoy it.
And about eleven kyrie warriors armed to the teeth with swords, spears, and knives rushed out of the trees and were about to charge our entrenchment behind the log.
“Fire, damnit!” My commanding officer shouted.
Three musket flashes and cracks went off as two of the kyrie fell dead right there on the spot. I had seen the kyrie next to my mark fall, so I’m pretty sure my shot killed one. I assume that my commanding officer, James is his name, killed the other because the other armed man, who will soon be killed, Henry is his name, was not a very good shot. The man on the ground hiding, Oliver is his name, was trying to wrench the saber out of its scabbard in my belt.We all immediately faced down the charge of the kyrie. Oliver had freed my saber from its scabbard and was prepared to skewer a charging kyrie. James and Henry had fixed bayonets and I was going to swing my musket straight at the face of any attacker coming at me. I was grasping the muzzle of my gun and was using the butte as a club.
They fell upon us as a wave. I swung and smashed my gun straight into a charging kyrie's face. Down he went and I heard something crack. There was a sharp scream and the sound of somebody sliding a saber into a kyrie's chest. I immediately ducked as a sword swished over my head. I dove to the floor as the kyrie that had swung at me fell to the ground, a large chest wound leaking blood onto the ground. Another kyrie charged at me and I smashed my rifle straight into his chest. He was winded, yet not down yet. He hefted up a spear and jabbed it at me. I ducked to left and a musket crack rang out. A burst of blood exploded out of the head of the kyrie and I turned around to find the source of the shot.
It was James, holding a smoking pistol in his hand. The dead kyrie slowly sank to his knees then plopped onto the ground. I was a bit exhausted from the fight because I hadn't slept in 20 hours.
James approached me and grabbed my shoulder. "Good job, kid."
"Thanks," I responded.
"Hey!" Oliver shouted at us from behind the log. "Henry's wounded! No! He's dead!"
"What!?" James and I shouted at the same time. We ran over to the log and peered over it at Oliver who was kneeling at Henry's side.
"Dead? Who?" James was dumbfounded.
"Yes," Oliver said. He was clutching Henry's arm, feeling his pulse. "By kyrie armed with a spear. I wounded him with my saber. He should still be there, propped up against the log."
That's when I saw it. Two kyrie warriors stole like crazy into the jungle. They ran as if the hounds of hell were upon them. However, we were a bit preoccupied at the moment.
James found him. The kyrie that was armed with the spear that had killed Henry. He was clad with nothing but a loincloth and a metal chest plate. The bloodied spear was lying right next to him. A large amount of blood was gushing out of his shoulder. His face was growing paler by the moment.
James grabbed him by the shoulders. "You jackass! I ought to kill you and hang your body for the crows."
The kyrie turned his head to face James. He showed no emotion at all. "Go ahead. My people will remember this. They know of," he quickly counted, "the eight men you killed. They forgive nothing of this sort."
"Eight?" I caught supreme interest. "I only saw two of yours run away."
"The savage does not count himself," James was growing angry at the kyrie. "How are you so sure of yourself?"
"I am not," The kyrie muttered and then his heart gave out his slowly sank to the ground: dead.
James released his grasp and stood up. "Men, gather your stuff. We need to give pursuit."
"To the kyrie?" Oliver asked.
"Indeed," James said while picking up a musket on the ground and several pistols from a satchel near the log.
We had gathered all our weapons and quickly ran straight into the undergrowth in pursuit of the kyrie.

“We realize that they probably regrouped with another group of natives,” James told them.
“Well,” Drake started. “We are in no league with any natives of any sort.”
“That’s good to hear,” The short man said.
“I don’t believe I caught your name,” Ana said to the short man.
“Its Tristan,” The short man responded. “What is your purpose here, then?”
“What business-”Cherokee started.
“Shut it!” Drake said pointing a finger at his face. The agent quickly clammed up. “We are mere travelers, nothing more.”
“Mere travelers are not armed as well as you,” Oliver said while chewing. He pointed at Drake’s katana slung over his back in its scabbard.
“We heard of the dangers of the remnants of Aquilla’s army,” Drake.
Oliver made his way over to Drake. He was really short compared to the towering soldier. He viciously eyed the army man, “What is your true purpose?”
Erevan sighed, “We search for the Dungeon of Aquilla.”
“That we can believe,” Tristan told the elf.
Drake turned to the elf, “Erevan.”
“I don’t see why we need to keep it a secret,” Erevan pointed out. “These men are not our enemies.”
“I think whoever puts a gun to my head is my enemy,” Cherokee muttered.
James immediately lowered his gun and placed it in a holster in his jacket. It too was red. He was dressed identically to the other two men was about the same height as Oliver. He had long, brown hair that hung at his hairs. It was very unkempt and his face was very dirty.
The pistol he placed in his jacket was one of the older ones from the 1700’s. You know the ones that take forever to reload and only have one shot? Yeah, it was one of those.
James then walked around the group and made his way to the other two men. He stood next to Oliver. “I believe formal introductions are in order.”
“No need,” Cherokee was a little mad at this group. “Short one over there revealed most of your names in his little story.”
“Fine,” James was growing angry over the agent’s rudeness. “But you know not of our company and rank.”
“Frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn,” Cherokee returned.
“Cherokee, just shut up,” Drake told the incredibly annoying agent. “Let me handle this.”
“As long as I get to shove my gun into one of their mouths,” Cherokee said in all seriousness.
Ana took over, “Don’t mind him. We would very much like to know your information you were about to give.”
“Thank you,” James said. “Someone with manners. We are James Stark, Oliver Potter, and Tristan Smith. We are part of her majesty’s 14th regiment of foot. We lived in exile for seven years after the war ended and we are now making our way to the wilderness to live the rest of our time her on Valhalla in peace.”
“Ugh,” Cherokee spat. “Neutralists.”

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Old September 26th, 2009, 12:53 AM
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Re: Crawl Through the Dungeon

Meh, sorry for the lack of updates. Also sorry for a surprising lack of description on locations. All my fault. It has completely escaped my mind in the last few updates.

Update Time

“Do you have any idea where your native’s might be now?” Drake asked James. The group had sat around the clearing while Oliver helped Erevan and Ana find their way. Drake and James had instantly struck up conversation. Neither was much good at map reading, so they kept away from the others. Cherokee and Tristan weren’t either, but they had decided to remain wrapped in their own thoughts.
“Not really,” James responded to Drake. He ran the cloth he was using to clean his musket up and down the shaft. It had gotten dusty. “We lost most of the trail yesterday. However, we have a feeling that they were heading in this general direction.”
“So, did you guys come across the ravine?” Drake asked. He had remembered the ravine from the day before.
“No,” James returned. “Oliver had spotted it on the way over here. We have never crossed it.”
“Then it must end somewhere,” Drake realized.
Tristan, who had been lying down, immediately shot up after Drake uttered those words. “Your dungeon.” He stood up and looked around. He saw the path and turned his back to it. He was now facing the direction opposite to the path. “It’s that way.”
James turned to Tristan and the group at the map looked up at him. James then spoke up, “How do you know?’
“I stumbled upon it yesterday,” Tristan was rather excited now. “When I was looking for a place to go. You know when-”
“Don’t speak of it,” Oliver told him.
“Right,” Tristan then walked in the direction he was facing. “I’m dead certain. My sense of direction is rarely wrong. Your dungeon is over there.”
“And it took you this long to remember,” Cherokee said, being a jerk as usual.
“Well, the thought just entered my head. I was looking for…..a place, and I tripped over some rocks and fell into a mud pit. I then saw a large stone block, about the size of Drake over there, but I thought nothing of it. I am almost certain that I saw the shape of a doorway on the side I was looking at,” Tristan explained.
Drake, taking interest, stood up and walked over to the British soldier. He placed an arm on his shoulder. Drake completely towered over Tristan. “Are you sure?”
“Dead certain,” Tristan said. He did not take his eyes off the direction he was staring at. “What else would you shove into a jungle? Your dungeon is the only thing I’ve heard of existing in this place.”
Ana stood up and stepped over the map Erevan had placed on the jungle floor. She walked over and stood by Drake. He towered over her as well. “Can you lead us there?”
“Indeed I can, madam,” Tristan replied. This time, he took his eyes off the jungle to make eye contact with Ana. “Would you like me to?”
“Yes please,” She told him.
“Finally,” Cherokee said while standing up. He held Drake’s pouch in his hand. He had been searching through the thing out of boredom while the others did their own thing. “We are getting somewhere. How far is it?”
“Not far,” Tristan replied. “Not far.”

The now group of five ran straight through the underbrush of the jungle. With regained momentum on their journey, the group were about to finally reach their goal. A former Einar and British soldier by the name of Tristan Smith was leading our familiar group of Erevan, Ana, Drake, and Cherokee to a small area that he thought was the entrance to the Dungeon of Aquilla.
Cherokee leapt over a creeper. Why in the hell was he on this expedition? He was not a dungeon crawler like Ana and Erevan. He was no leader or strategic expert like Drake. All he was was Cherokee. That jerkface agent that is here for the comedic relief. Well, not really. This was not Cherokee’s place. He should be in the cities of Utgar, the grand enemy, killing state officials and people who looked at him funny at the bar.
Drake leapt over the creeper that Cherokee had just crossed moments before. He was only slightly slower than Cherokee. That blasted agent was the fastest on the team. He couldn’t run very long distances. In his defense, neither could Drake. This is where he was supposed to be. The wilderness was where Drake was supposed to be. He joined the army in 1941 to do what his father’s had set for him. He was a soldier at birth and that is what he continued to be. He was deployed in France 1944. That was where he was at home. He killed Nazis on a daily basis and lived his life in a foxhole. However, he might have been too hasty when he signed up for that secret mission to parachute behind German lines. He had been “killed” way before the mission even was supposed to commence. His group was slaughtered and only three of them found their ways to Valhalla. Jandar had saved them. And now he was dead.
Ana stepped over the creeper. All she could see were branches and the Drake’s back. She tried to center her thoughts on the task ahead. However, she found her mind beginning to wander. She had begun thinking of how nice Drake looked when he ran…….
Erevan was running straight behind Ana and he jumped over the creeper about the same time as Ana. He wished she would move faster. Erevan was an elf, and naturally, built for speed. He wished he was out of the jungle. He could try out that new “fly” spell of his and get the group to the spot much faster. However, the stupid canopy would hinder their efforts in finding the spot. He imagined that it would be nearly impossible to see through. The light of the overhanging sun barely shone through as it is.
Tristan stumbled behind the elf. For someone who was supposed to be showing the way, he was rather surprised he was in the back of the group. He cradled his musket in his hands as he ran. “Guys!” He huffed. “Left turn! Up here!”
And the group turned left.

“And here it is!” Tristan said to group. His breathing was heavy from all the running and he was pointing to a large stone block in the middle of the undergrowth in the jungle. The block was gray and cubish in shape and covered in vegetation.
“I give up,” Cherokee said. “What is it?”
“It is the entrance to your dungeon,” Tristan gasped.
Cherokee was not convinced, “Where is it?”
“Somewhere on the cube, obviously,” Drake shut the agent up. “Be grateful he showed this place to us.”
“Why?” Cherokee persisted. “This buffoon has not showed us the entrance. I am not convinced.
Erevan was amused, “I am amused. You used the word ‘buffoon’ correctly, Cherokee.”
“I am no idiot, Erevan,” Cherokee said. He then reached into his belt and withdrew his weapon. He pointed it straight at the elf’s face. “I feel that I have no need to prove that to you.” The agent then lowered his gun. “I do not wish to kill you.”
“And neither do I,” Drake told the over-aggressive agent. “Don’t make me. Please.”
“Can we stop this arguing and get back to the task at hand?” Ana asked. She had always seemed to be the peacemaker. However, that’s what Adrian had chosen her for. He felt that Drake and Cherokee would tear each other apart and Erevan would get lost in the woods after that. He had chosen them all for a purpose. “This is not helping us.”
“She’s right,” Tristan said. In all fairness, he wanted to leave Cherokee’s presence as quickly as possible.
“Stay out of this,” Cherokee said. He said nothing to Ana, he chose to ignore her.
“Cherokee,” Drake sighed. “They’re right. Just stand back while we find the entrance.”
However, reason was not something that Cherokee liked. Cherokee never sided with reason. He was glad that James and Oliver had decided to stay back at the clearing. The less people around the better. He hated people. However, people tended to hate Cherokee. Except Taryn back in high school, but that is a story for another day. The agent refused to back down. “Look, I will not stand back until you get us into that dungeon.”
“That’s what they’re trying to do!” Erevan lost it. “Just cool it.”
Cherokee considered responding with something witty, but decided against it. “Technology tends to favor those who use it.”
The elf then became puzzled as Cherokee took a place behind the group. He couldn’t understand the agent’s words. What did he have to do with technology? What did anything in this situation have to do with technology?
“Very well,” Tristan and Drake stepped up to the block. Ana was right behind, observing. Drake ran his hand across the first face of the block.
“I imagine that the door could be on any of the block faces,” Tristan told Drake.
“Good idea,” Drake agreed. Tristan hadn’t even really said anything. “Erevan! Ana! Check the two faces on the side. Tristan, can you handle the one on the other side?”
Cherokee mumbled a silent protest.
And the group began checking all he faces of the block. They all ran their hands across it. They searched for a type of knob, or button, or answering machine of some sort on the block. Something that would lead them inside an entrance.
“Hey,” Cherokee got an idea. “All those adventure stories had secret entrances. Why should this be any different?”
Drake sighed. “Are you being sarcastic? If so, you are not helping.”
“Hell no. When have you ever known me to be sarcastic?” Cherokee said.
“Right there for example,” Drake said. He was partially ignoring the agent.
“Meh, I guess you are right,” Cherokee then kept his ideas to himself. He wondered how long it would take them to find the entrance. Maybe they would want his help after all. Hopefully. Maybe he could even hold that against Drake. Perfect.

(Note: No note for youuuuuu.......Or soup.)

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Last edited by dragonfire9788; September 26th, 2009 at 01:08 AM.
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Old September 26th, 2009, 11:19 PM
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Re: Crawl Through the Dungeon

Yay! Another!

Update Time

It was now far into the night. The group had given up their search for the door and had sat around the block. Drake had his head bowed into his hands, deep in thought. He knew that there way into the dungeons through this block. The army man was just sure of it.
Tristan casually paced about the jungle. Unfortunately, the block was covered deep in the jungle and there was little area for him to pace about in. Had this originally been a clearing? A section of the woods devoid of trees? Had Aquilla’s absence allowed the jungle to reclaim that land that was held at bay by magic? The British soldier did not pace too far from the block. The jungle was dangerous at night. One false step and he could never find his way back to civilization. He knew this was the right spot. His instincts told him that the ground didn’t go down very far. His footsteps made a loud sound as he walked about the jungle. Maybe the ground was just hollow?
Ana lied on her back. She had her arms crossed behind her head and she was gazing straight at the canopy of the jungle. She missed the night sky. She especially missed the night sky back on Eberron. That sky was littered with millions, no, thousands of brilliant lights and sparkles that the galaxy around Valhalla did not have. She had at least got to see a little bit of it back when she was in Lindesfarm and at camp in Laur. This jungle did not allow her this pleasure. It was slowly enveloping her. She did not like it. However, she would have to replace it for a cold, dark, depressing dungeon beneath the ground. A good cause, however, was the only thing preventing her desertion. That and a strong loyalty to Drake….
Erevan was sitting on the ground, leaning against the large block in the middle of the jungle. He never was going to get out of this jungle. Were any of them? If any of them did, he hoped it was Ana. She deserved way better than this. However, that was the path that was chosen for her. The path that she chose. Erevan shuddered at these thoughts. Why was he so sure only some of them would live? This was a harmless little mission. Well, mostly harmless.
“Harmless,” Adrian had told them. “For you.”
“For you”? Erevan did not like that. Was there a fight coming that Adrian, their superior, had thought that they could easily overcome? What if he was overestimating them? What if he only told them this to get them to go on this mission? What if he was lying?
Cherokee was leaning up against a tree, having a smoke of the cigarettes that Drake had brought with them. It really was a dirty habit. He wondered when Drake or Erevan would catch on that Cherokee’s knowledge of the adventure genre was going to help them.
“So,” Drake lifted his head and looked around. For what, we will never know. “Any ideas?”
Cherokee kept his mouth shut.
“Are we so sure that this is the right entrance?” Erevan sounded as if he had given up. “Are we sure someone just didn’t drop a large block of stone in the middle of the jungle?”
“I’m sure,” Drake said. He then motioned to Tristan.
It took awhile for him to catch on, “Oh yeah. Me too.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” Erevan said.
“I wouldn’t,” Cherokee said. His head seemed as if it was in the clouds. He was probably playing “Rain Drops Keep Falling on My Head” in his mind anyhow.
“Why don’t you come up with an idea then,” Tristan told the agent. He had not yet gotten used as how to deal with him yet.
“I have,” Cherokee corrected him. He still wasn’t caring.
“And you haven’t told us?” Erevan didn’t really care much either.
“No,” Cherokee informed.
“Why ever not?” Tristan said. He was trying to be stern. However, Cherokee is one that you can’t really be stern too.
“You never asked,” Cherokee explained.
“Did we have to?” Drake caught this little detail.
“I didn’t think it was a good idea,” Cherokee actually thought it was a good idea.
“Well what is it then?” Drake didn’t know how longer he could put up with this agent. He was glad Ana was around to keep the peace. Wow, that was a random comment.
Ana was glad Drake was around too.
“Why does there have to be a door on the block?” Cherokee asked no one in particular. This was his idea.
“I’m confused,” Tristan didn’t catch on.
“Move the block,” Cherokee told him.
“How so?” Tristan was still confused. “I’m still confused.”
“Push it, pull it? I don’t care, just move the damn thing. If there isn’t a trapdoor and some stairs then I’ll eat my hat,” Cherokee still didn’t care.
Erevan then stood up and walked over to the nearest tree. He saw Drake and Tristan move from their current positions to go move the block. However, “Don’t worry. I got this covered.” He stopped them dead in their tracks. They then moved back to Cherokee’s tree.
The annoying agent was not thrilled about that.
“Gust-” Erevan began. He then made some very dramatic hand movements. “-of wind!”
A blast of air flew from the hands of the elf and crashed straight into the large stone block in the center of the jungle canopy. The wind was just strong enough to send the rock flying. It flew into the air and smashed large amounts of trees flattening it all and sending leaves flying through the air. In all, nine trees lost their lives that day. Poor them.
“And there you go,” Erevan placed his hands on his hips. He felt proud of his handiwork.
And that is when Ana saw it. The flattened trees let her see the stars. Millions of them burning billions of miles away. The gods had answered her prayers after all.
Cherokee, Tristan, Drake, and Erevan went to investigate the space the rock had freed up. Ana had been left where she was. She would hear from them eventually. Anyway, Cherokee was right. There was now a rather significant hole in the ground and you could easily see a flight of stairs leading down into the hole. The group could not see an end to the stairs so they imagined that they went on for awhile. That would make the tunnel very, very deep.
“Well, there you all are,” Tristan told them. No one else heard him though. Over the scream.
Suddenly, a very loud, sharp, mannish scream resounding through the jungle. There were only a few things in the jungle that could make that type of scream and 80% of them were in that spot.
Tristan knew what it was immediately, “Oliver! James!”
Just then, another scream crashed through the jungle. Then, a body came flying out of the undergrowth and crashed into Erevan.
“What the-” Erevan shouted as the body made him fall down. He narrowly missed the hole.
Drake looked over the body that Erevan had now rolled out from under. There was no doubt what it was, “Oliver……..”
Tristan then looked away from the body. This is not happening was the phrase that was going through his mind.
“Might I make a suggestion,” Cherokee was all cool. He pointed to the stairs in the hole.
“Flee?” Ana had stood up and walked over to the others.
“No!” Tristan shouted at Cherokee.
‘You’re tearing me apart’! The narrator thought.
“We need to help James!” Tristan shouted.
“Look, kid, he’s dead, probably. He was killed by whatever is out there. His native’s probably,” Cherokee responded.
“My natives too,” Tristan stood his ground.
“And we could get killed by them too,” Cherokee said. “We cannot complete our mission if that happens.”
“I don’t give a damn about your mission,” Tristan was angry. “I’m a neutralist. Why couldn’t you all just leave your war behind! Then we wouldn’t be in this mess!”
“I don’t either,” Cherokee was not in the least intimidated. “I would wish away this war as well. The fact is that I can’t do that. I’m not going to cry about it. Now, you have two options: Come with us, or get killed trying to get revenge. Getting revenge makes you a hypocrite doesn’t it? Your precious James did not realize this, did he?”
Tristan whipped his musket around and pointed it straight at Cherokee. As he did this Drake and Erevan snuck away down the stairs. They secretly hoped that the kid would kill the agent, “I should kill you where you stand for insulting the dead.”
“So you admit he is dead then? Good. Get over it and save yourself,” Cherokee retorted.
Tristan’s finger was fidgeting around the trigger it would be so easy.
“What? Can’t do it?” Cherokee, giving his last words on the matter left Tristan there and followed Drake and Erevan down the stairs.
Ana then walked over to the young Tristan and placed her hand on his shoulder. “Come. While that man may be an ass, he speaks the truth. You must come with us.”
“You don’t understand,” Tears streaked down Tristan’s eyes.
“Yes I do. I don’t want you to die. My gods have chosen you to live and you must follow your path. You are not meant to die right now. Trust me,” Ana then let Tristan mull this over.
Tristan mulled this over and found this comforting. While he did not personally believe in the gods that Ana was talking about, he still found Ana’s words right. He reluctantly allowed her to lead him down the stairs while following the others.

(Note: Omigosh! We are finally in the dungeon! Somewhat. )

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  #10  
Old September 27th, 2009, 09:23 PM
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Re: Crawl Through the Dungeon

Update Time

Red Skull had been having a good day so far. He had had an early start and had assembled his wardrobe the night before. The same thing every day. He wore his long, gray trench coat with a black vest and gray combat pants on below. He strutted about in his black combat boots and his trench coat’s large collar. Really.
He had grown to love the caves he lived in. Or the dungeons, he really should say. He had taken up residence in the Dungeon of Aquilla a few months before. He had a little problem with the natives but he let Khosument and his wolves deal with that. Yeah, he had come to the dungeons when Utgar had banished the wolves and Red Skull as well. Utgar hated anarchy.
“What’s the good of evil if you can’t get an enjoyment out of it?” Utgar had told them when he had informed them of their banishment. “No likes anarchy. Not even anarchists. Anarchists would be the ones killed within the first few minutes of lawlessness.”
Red Skull had never been a complete anarchist though. He only meant to see the destruction of this world. Valhalla. A world that was chosen for war was not meant to last long. However, the war had ended seventeen years ago and Utgar’s evil had set in. Genocide and the mopping up of the remaining armies had cast a dark wave of death and violence across the land. Utgar and his troops lived in the world with leisure and fighting for “sport”. The subjects of Utgar not in the army lived in poverty. Every single one of them.
This world had to go. Not just every living thing, the entire planet. This place was cursed and no one should be allowed to live on it. Magic had weaved it together and it was not that difficult to unweave. The problem was getting off Valhalla before the place was destroyed. That’s why Red Skull and Khosument had set up shop in the Dungeon’s of Aquilla. If anyone would have had the answer, it would have been her. They needed to find a way off the planet without using those accursed amulets. Sadly, technology would not give them any help either.
There had always been someone to kill. Red Skull liked it like that. There was no one central government. Ever. Infighting and disunity left the world in balance. Beings were not created to live in harmony. Their flaws led them away from peace. However, when Utgar won, he cheated. He upset the balance by dropping a lead brick on it. Jandar was killed and the world was overrun by him. The evil that had caused him to start the war in the first place had become the basis on how he led his empire. Sure, Utgar had continued the fight into other dimensions yet Valhalla was left in ruin.
Red Skull casually walked his way through the higher levels of the dungeon. He wished he could just wish all Valhalla away. Red Skull may have been evil, but he was a person of balance. He could choose a side of the scale and still favor having equal weights. He did.
Red Skull just loved his dungeon. Sure, it was the Dungeon of Aquilla but he thought of it as the Dungeon of Red Skull. The old kyrie was dead anyway. He loved the darkness of the dungeons. He loved the smells; the smell of burning rock and old dirt just hit the good part of his smelling sense.
The dungeon was pretty much organized just like an average office building. You’ve got your floors and your staircase. When Red Skull and Khosument had arrived they had found the place completely empty. They unpacked their stuff and set up shop. They put up automatic torches everywhere so people could find their way and had turned the deepest part of the dungeons into living quarters. They hid all their treasure in secret rooms and built a throne room on the level above the living quarters. There was nothing they could do about the smooth, rocky walls and floors, but they had adapted to it.
Most of the day the wolves hunted for rats while Khosument and Red Skull went over all the ancient texts they had at their disposal. They wanted to find their way off this planet and fast. On fun days they all chilled around a small water stream running through the fourth deepest level. There was this one wolf, Herku, who told great tales and sung great songs on his lute. The dungeon had mellowed the wolves to a point they did not depend on the great pigs of Volcarren to be their supper. Rats had surprisingly satisfied them all.
Today Khosument had decided to help the wolves on the fifth deepest level forge weapons for the coming battle against Utgar’s troops. Maybe they might even have to fight the resistance. So, because of that, Red Skull decided to take a walk on the one level he rarely walked on: The first one. No wolves lived on this top level.
As Red Skull was walking, a light suddenly emerged. Out of that blinding light, two figures came. Then another figure. Then two more. Red Skull was a very curious so he took a walk towards it. Suddenly, he figured out what it was. He couldn’t believe he forgot about it.
“Who in the hell are you?” One of the figures asked.

(Note: Yeah, shorter. Important though.)

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  #11  
Old October 25th, 2009, 01:01 AM
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Re: Crawl Through the Dungeon

Water for the thirsty.

Update Time

Red Skull stood in still and silent for a few moments. There were visitors in the dungeon. They never had those. Red Skull, however, strongly disliked visitors. Especially ones that arrived unannounced. The villain brushed the right, flaying part of his trench coat and revealed the butt of a revolver sticking out of his belt. It was the revolver Red Skull carried with him at all times. Red Skull had left his automatic guns back in his chamber because he never expected that he would need them. “I don’t know. Who are you?”
“Revolvers suck,” Cherokee explained. In a flash, he had had his glock in his hand and was aiming it at Red Skull’s heart. “You sure you don’t know.”
Drake smirked but it was hidden by the darkness. Cherokee would be very useful in an interrogation type scene. The army man had understood this the first minute he met the man. Drake was rather good at reading people and the dossier. The army man slid his hand onto the hilt of his katana. Just in case, he thought. “What my friend is trying to say is-”
“I think I’ve portrayed what I mean enough, Drake,” Cherokee told him.
Drake was right. Cherokee knew what he wanted. Drake could also tell that Cherokee would be very good if he was ever tortured. The man had resolve. The man had strength. The man had secrecy. Wait, where did that come from, Drake thought.
Red Skull slowly moved his hand up to his belt. If he could use the darkness to cover the movements of his hand, he could draw his gun and kill all the intruders. Six shots in his gun and about five visitors. Should be enough.
Cherokee caught it. “Leave your hand where it is.” Damn.
Drake cleared his throat then spoke, “Speak or be wasted. Who are you?”
Red Skull could see no way out of this situation other than cooperation. These people were fast and the annoying one had good eyes. There would be no help as no one ever used the top level of the dungeons. “Fine. My name is….Schmidt. Johann Schmidt. You have stumbled onto the Dungeon of Aquilla.”
“Stumbled?” Erevan questioned to no one in particular. He thought his map reading skills got them through most of the jungle.
“We know that,” Cherokee said. “Now, Mr. Schmidt, what are you doing here?”
“Johann Schmidt?” Tristan poured that name around in his head. He had heard it before. But where had he heard it? When had he heard it?
Red Skull mulled it over in his brain. Why was he here? “Spelunking.”
“Spelunking?” Drake asked. “What?”
“Yes. I heard there were good gems in here. Man can make a fortune off those things, eh?” Red Skull added an accent to seal the deal.
“You never had that accent before,” Cherokee caught on. “You were faking.”
“No, I wasn’t,” Red Skull said. “What accent?”
“You’re dialect,” Drake pointed out. “At the end of your last statement. About the gems.”
“Gems? Oh yeah, I was just acting. You know, for humorous purposes,” Red Skull shrugged.
“I’m not sure,” Cherokee said. “I’ve heard some bad alter egos in my time. Men who make ‘em up on the spot should never add an accent.”
“I’ll be sure to remember that,” Red Skull said sarcastically.
“Ah-ha! You had no knowledge of that before! That means you made a critical mistake! Or were you just acting again?” Cherokee said in the most enthusiastic way he could.
“I have no idea what you are talking about,” Red Skull announced defiantly.
“I remember!” Tristan proclaimed with much energy.

Currently Sigless.
Gotta Go to the Sig Bank.

Last edited by dragonfire9788; November 29th, 2009 at 03:09 PM.
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  #12  
Old October 25th, 2009, 08:33 PM
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Einar Gen. Einar Gen. is offline
 
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Re: Crawl Through the Dungeon

Geez... My chest hurts from laughing. Keep up the great work!
(And if Cherokee dies, I vill KEEL you!)
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