The Dungeon Denziens Club

The Dungeon Denizens Club

( OOC thread can be found here )

Bronk ducked sideways through the doorframe, one of his curved horns knocking another piece of plaster off the ceiling as he straightend up, before he sat down on the crudely fashioned but sturdy stool at his usual place around the Clubs meeting table. The room was one of the more out-of-the-way ones on the fourth level of the Bosses dungeon, though Bronk had made the journey here often enough that even he could find it with only a minimal ammount of fuss.

He was almost always last to arrive, because his lair was at the centre of the maze on level three, and, although being a minotaur, whose kind usually possessed an unerring sense of direction, Bronk had such a bad sense of direcetion he could routinely get lost just crossing to the other side of a room.

Propping his large double-headed axe up against the wall behind him, he regarded the rest of the gathered Dungeon Denizens Club with some self-satisfaction, being at least an hour earlier than usual.

"Hey folks. Did you here the commotion up on level one?" he began, scratching an itch behind one of his horns. "Sounds like Gutrag and his goblin lads got a sound kickin. Again.

Dennis is going to have to send out another bunch of recruitment fliers to the local goblin tribes. And you know how much they cost to scribe."

The name Dennis was spoken in a hushed fashion, as much as Bronk's natural booming voice allowed at least, in deference to the Dark Lord of the dungeon, who lived somewhere much deeper in the massive complex of catacombs and caverns below.

She sat in her normal oversized cushy chair, her legs pulled up underneath her as she studied a nail she had managed to chip somehow. Sighing as she dropped the hand to her lap, she glanced up just in time to see a piece of plaster go flying as Bronk entered. The poor ceiling of this room had definately seen better days. She watched as he perused them all, with a somewhat satisfied look upon his face. An amused smile crossed her lips as she realized he was indeed very early for him, he must have left quite ahead of time today.

Looking down at her nail again, she frowned, wondering when she'd chipped it. Toying with it, she listened to him speak, looking up again when he mentioned a commotion. Sitting up, she stretched languidly and shook her long silvery hair away from her face. Her voice was soft and silky when she spoke, some of the words sounding almost like purrs coming from her throat.

"So that's what woke me up from my nap. Have they everrrr managed to do anything rrrright?"

She stretched again and wrinkled her nose. About to speak again, she suddenly stopped, her eyes widening slightly as her head tilted up a smidge...

"Ahhh CHOOO"

As the sneeze echoed around the room, she couldn't help but laugh as everyone suddenly looked at her. Waving a slender hand in the air, she shook her head.

"The dust, it's just the plasterrrr dust." Continuing, she wrinkled her nose again and frowned, "Morrrre goblins. Maybe he can get some that can at least hit the doorrrr in front of them this time. I can't rememberrr the last time they've actually won a fight. And some that don't smell quite so bad, though for goblins, I suppose that's a stretch."

Shrugging, she went back to toying with her nail, unconcerned since she rarely ventured to the first level as the smell was unbearable to her sensitive nose.

Zarai

Woman or Cat? Lover or Killer?

Ziwi

The bustle in the tavern was extremely busy and loud today, Ziwi thought. She sat in a corner with the hood of her cloak propped over her long curly hair. A pint of mead was put in front of her. Ziwi searched in her money bag and threw the barmaid a few coins. Ziwi was just about out of money, yet again. She wondered if she would have to steal some from someone or possibly prostitute herself. The thought sent shivers up her spine.

A grotesque figure of a man sat down at the table. "So I hear you are an adventurer. Well, if you are so inclined, half of this money bag is yours upon acceptance and the other half is yours upon completion."

Ziwi put her finger to her mouth as to pretend to think about the offer. "Just who do I have to kill?" He snorted with a reply of "Just a minotaur"

Ziwi gasped and then quickly recovered. She had heard rumors of a dungeon near here and the thought of battle did seem to excite her."I will take your money Sir, and I will leave in the morning, until then please find yourself another drinking partner."

Ziwi would go to the dungeon, but as far as killing a minotaur, not too likely, and who would turn down free money. She took a drink from then stein which hid her smile. Oh yes she would go to the dungeon.

Carmen

Carmen looked up from the latest issue of "Better Tombs and Gardens". What she wouldn't give for a copy of "Vague" or even "Cosmo" -- she loved those sexy articles and was hankering to try out a few of the tips she'd gotten before Brunhilde started pinching her issues.

"Hiya, Bronk! Are you hungry?" she asked the hulking brute as he settled onto his stool. "I bought some lovely mesclun from the village and some b-b-blood oranges, too. It will make a lovely salad, especially with those sagey, soy-prosciutto polenta croutons I made." She tried hard not to shudder when she said the "B" word, but Carmen knew the fastest way to a min's heart was through his stomach even though her sights were set slightly lower.

"There was talk at the tavern that there were newcomers. Pesky adventurers!" Carmen sighed. "These aren't the same ones that gave Gutrag a go upstairs. Someone new, Hans said. Why can't they just go to Niagara Falls like normal folks?"

Timber

I'm gonna be late for the meeting, now where did I put the glue? Ahh there it is. Timber picked up the bottle of wood glue and started re-afixing parts of his torso.

I hate these new adventurers. Half of them are women and they always swing low! Especially the clerics. I can't count the times I've had a hole in my loins someone could drive a horse and buggy through.

Timber picked his cock up from off the shelf. It was a good size and thick enough, it just kept getting knocked off. Maybe something in a nice oak? No, too showy and besides they would start aiming for it.

Timber finished gluing himself back together. A few minutes to dry, then I'm off to the meeting. Hope some has some good ideas. Timber gingerly walked down to the meeting room. He was doing good until he got there.

He knocked lightly on the door hoping to attract the attention of those within. No answer. He knocked a little harder this time. Again, no answer. Timber was about to knock a third time when the door swung open and knocked his left arm right off!

Timber walked into the room carrying his arm "Anyone got any glue?"

Tony, Prince of the Crawl Space

Tony pushed his head out from the hole. He moved out from the wall where he'd been running his tunnels, and pulled himself up on his hind legs, sniffing the air. He moved sedatedly around, peering at the people.

He always tried very hard to to scurry. It was very unsightly. "Oh, yes, brilliant. Why don't we put some posters and brochures up in the first level. Beat a few goblins, look at the Hawaiian coast. Who knows, maybe they'll be so distracted they'll actually lose. No, they like the thrill, the adventure, the dark forbidden hallways, the rats running to and fro. And I should know, I have to add a lot of atmosphere. Most rodents won't come down here it's such a pit."

He sighed, and rested himself. "I hate goblins. They eat rats, you know. Filthy, dirty creatures. Goblins, that is. By the way, anyone know how long 'till the next full moon? Being a rat is a horrible way to keep up with the time, and it takes too long for me to go up for a look..."

Grinning as Carmen tried to entice Bronk with her numerous varieties of food... she really was a great cook... she glanced at the door as she heard a knock. After the second knock, realizing no one else was going to get it, she stood and swung the door open, wincing when she heard it connect solidly with something and knowing she'd probably just broken poor Timber again.

Wrinkling her nose in despair, she started to apologize as he asked for glue, but he waved her off... with the arm he was carrying. Smiling weakly, she settled back down in her chair just as she heard a voice from near her feet. Pulling them up under her again, so as not to cause any more harm this evening, she watched as the rat slowly circled the room, and nodded at his description of goblins being filthy.

She started to ask if he'd like a lift up to the table, but held her tongue, figuring he would probably decline. She didn't think he trusted her much... not that she blamed him. What with her unexpected penchant for becoming a cat, she probably wouldn't like herself either if she found herself a rat. Although to be honest, she did try hard to stay away from the maze while she was prowling the halls in her feline form, so as not to unwittingly make a tasty snack of him. Although if she remembered right, on nights of full moon, she thought he might be a tasty snack as well. Grinning to herself, her fingers running lightly over her collarbone, she answered his question finally,

"Three nights I think."

Bronk nodded politely to Timber and Tony, whilst his stomaches (having two like most bovines) began to rumble after Carnmen's mention of food.

"Sounds great to me, Carmen. All I've had lately are left over iron rations, which is all adventurers ever seem to bring with them these days," he grumbled in tune with his stomaches.

"And, more adventurers? Like we don't have enough already in the region. If it wasn't for Timber's carpentry skills there probably wouldn't be a single wooden door left in its frame in the entire dungeon."

"Yes, those goblins really do need some showers installed," he added as the perennial subject of goblin hygiene came up, "at the very least a few wash basins. Though I doubt they make soap strong enough."

Mundungus nodded at that. "Hear! Hear! My mother complained about that the last time she came to see me. Said that they put her off of her dinner. I'd say that I could cast a spell on them to cure the stench, but some people here wouldn't let me cast a spell if their lives depended on it, so that's out. Although I suppose we could simply pay someone to come around and clean them off."

He absentmindedly leafed through a few more pages of the ledgers he had been looking at. "Speaking of money, it appears that someone's been, well, appropriating (for lack of a better word) our funds. Have anything to do with this Tony?"
He raised his eyebrows inquisitively.

"Because if you do, we'd like to hear about it. Money doesn't grow on trees and the last few adventurers haven't been bringing in the gold. I mean, with taxes and all, we barely are making even, let alone getting more gold to our coffers! Umm, speaking of which, I accidentely turned into a pig cookie jar. The coofer that is. The money's still there, just not in such a...terrifying container."

Tony, Because Smart-Ass Rodents are Cool.

Tony stopped, and stared up. "Three nights? Whooo! Sex! Sex, sex, sex! Who wants in? C'mon ladies, speak up!"

He stopped in his merriment, turning to the wizard. He walked his way the distance over to the wizard, pulling himself up on his back legs and clawing up at him. "ME!?"

"Surely you won't blame me. I mean, sure, I skim off the top from time to time,...But to steal from something I support? What's next, you gonna accuse me of stealing from myself?"

Tony grumbled, and made his way back around to one of the holes in the wall, making his way up a steep tunnel and pushing aside a small chunk of wall to come out on one of the table. He laid himself down.

"The very idea. Do you think if I was stealing I'd do it small? No. I'd wait until a full moon, grab it all, and make my way to a wizard of talent. But even thieves have some honor, and a Prince (such as myself) would never stoop so low as to steal from,...coworkers. No. I'm poor as the rest of you. Maybe even more so, considering I get less since I don't actually fight anyone. Hell, the only reason I survive is I don't need as much food as the rest of you."

"And I'd suggest not giving the goblins showers. The only thing that smells worse than a goblin,...is a wet goblin."

Carmen

Scribbling rapidly with her quill on parchment, she was only a few words behind what was actually being said. Carmen prided herself on her own little system of shorthand -- a term heatedly objected to by both Hans and the height challenged stinky ones upstairs. She didn't care though. It worked and got the job done.

"Oh, don't forget, everyone," she chimed in. "The sign-up sheet for lock-ins on the full moon is hanging on the bulletin board in the wrecked room. If we're only three days away, you'll want to get your name up in plenty of time. I'll make an announcement after dinner." There would be quite a few on that list by now, she was sure, but it wouldn't hurt to give everyone a heads up before others got their heads off.

Listening to Mundungus go on about the shortage of funds and the pig shaped... "Eek! Mundungus? Sir?" Carmen squeaked. "You said pig shaped?"

"Well, it wasn't on purpose or anything... " he started to protest before she cut him off abruptly.

"Erm... Well, I didn't know what it was and I donated it to Hairy for the graveyard sale next week." Suddenly all eyes were on her and she wanted to crawl down under the table where Tony had been just moments before.

"You WHAT??"

"I'll get it back. I didn't look inside... It was just sitting there on a shelf in the pantry taking up space. I... " Looking around for some sort of reprieve, her eyes fell on Bronk, who just shrugged.

"How bout that dinner now, huh? I'll go get it ready for you. Just follow the blue signs to the dining hall, Bronk. See you in a few. Gotta rush folks. See you all later." Without a backward glance, she was out the door and racing down the hall.

"Hairy!!" she called. "Come down off whatever ceiling you're on and meet me in the kitchen. I need you."

Carmen burst into the safety of her culinary domain just as a strange, furry critter with an oddly human face lowered himself from a fine silken strand right in front of her, making her scream.

"Dammit, Hairy! You know I hate when you do that!"

"Sorry. You did call?"

"Uh huh. Remember that pig cookie jar thingie? I need it back."

"Umm... "

"What do you mean Umm?? I need it back. What part of that don't you understand?"

"Oh, I understand all of it, Carmen, it's just that I traded it to Jack O for some... What's so important about it anyhow? It was really kinda ugly if you ask me."

Sighing, she told the story of the transformed coffer and the treasury it once held. "You have to get it back!!"

"Okay... but don't blame me if he won't give it up. Jack O is off haunting the covered bridge tonight. You know how crabby he gets when tourists steal his "head" -- that last batch got it again and that's why he wanted the pig thing."

Carmen glared. If looks could kill, she would have levelled six city blocks. "Get it back!" she growled. "Either that or I get the... "

"No, Carmen! Not the... " Hairy began scrambling back up his line as she bent for the hitherto unused can of Raid which she brandished menacingly at him.

"Go! Get it back NOW!!"

"You know... This is no way to treat a guy."

"I said go! I'll use it, Hairy. I swear I will!" Carmen extended the can in his direction as Hairy scurried away. Once he was out of sight, she set it down on the counter and began preparing the light meal for Bronk, her thoughts drifting to what she could offer him for... dessert.

Timber

The wood golem stood and cleared his throat. He was trying to be serious and professional. The one thing he didn't know was, that when he stood up his hastily glued cock fell off and landed in Zarai's lap.

Everyone started laughing as he started defending Carmen's actions. "Please, have a little respect, after all, I have the floor." A heckling whisper was heard saying something about the floor not being the only thing he couldn't seem to hold on to.

Timber lost his train of thought and sat down. I've had a problem with losing things lately. Good thing I don't wear glasses. "Well, I say we should give Carmen a break, after all, she didn't know." he said to Zarai. Then he noticed a balsa wood cock in her lap. "Can I borrow that as a spare?"

Zarai

Her stomach rumbled at the thought of dinner, and she watched as Carmen hurried out. Poor girl, it really wasn't her fault. If the wizard was going to go around turning things into cookie jar looking things... then these things were bound to happen.

She was still chuckling at the prince's excitement about the full moon when Timber stood up. Feeling something thud into her lap, she glanced down, and her eyes widened as she picked up the nice sized piece of wood. Her mouth opened to speak, but everyone else was already chuckling, so she sat there holding the cock with a wry grin on her face until he turned and saw her.

"Can I borrow that as a spare?" he asked.

With a delightful grin on her face, she rubbed the cock between her hands, her fingers running lightly over it as she contemplated him.

"A spare. Cerrrrtainly... it does look as if you need one about now."

She suppressed a laugh as she stood and lightly tapped her fingers on the spot where the cock should have been.

Ziwi

Ziwi took her rations and packed them up. She pulled the hood over her head and grabber her pack. This was going to start a new way of living for her. With some money in her pocket already and some food in her stomach, she was off to go adventure and make a name for herself.
She headed off into the forest. As she walked down the trail, she heard a rustling in the bushes. She pulled her bow ready for anything to jump out. The rustling grew louder as her arrow let loose.
The rustling stopped. She got up to where she had let the arrow fly. The arrow was sunk deep into the ground, and through a tail of some beast. "Hah," she had defeated the foe and was victorious. As she walked away the rustling slowly started again. She knew the animal was trying to move but her mighty blow had struck true. She squeeled with delight and started to skip down the trail looking for the dungeon in Gloomsdale Woods.
Had she paid much attention to what she had hit. She would have noticed that the wolf had been dead for some time. It's leg was stuck in a trap that it was never able to escape from. The slight breeze continued to rustle the Eldeberry flower which sound is known to sound like a rustling of leaves.

Tony, Master of the Sewers!

Tony shifted himself, laughing uncontrollably to himself. Luckilly, he was small enough that he could make his own comments and laugh at the other with them hearing little more than a squek. It took a lot of energy to yell at a level they could hear clearly.

Th wizard had turned their coffers into cookie jars, they'd been given away, and now the Wood Golem was going to pieces. "Perhaps you should put that someplace safe until you need it. Or else you're likely to lose it for good when some woman decides it might make a nice toy!"

He continued laughing to himself. His first sentance had been loud enough, but the second he kept to himself. He was not the nicest of people, but he did try to be polite most of the time. It was sometimes a difficult chore, but his upbringing helped.

The full moon was rapidly approaching. Excitement welled up in him. It was always an exciting time. Being human again. Watching the ladies swoon. He was still a handsome devil, though he tended to dress in what leftovers he could find from the adventurers. It created an odd look, but he tried not to be dressed too long...

The minotaur nodded. "Proper gold coin is getting scarce around here. Gloomsdale is becoming something of an adventurers holiday resort, and it is hitting us hard." He grumbled, thumbing his nose ring. "We're going to have to come up with something. I'd suggest paying them a visit for a change, but its against the dungeon monsters code of conduct as you all know. We could move some of the skeletons and zombies up from the crypt on level five to help Gutrag's defences - they won't complain about the smell, and its easy enough to put them back together for reanimating when they get a thumping."

"I think you should keep better track of your, well, bits Timber. There have been quite a few 'exotic carvings' apparently turning up in the town, after adventurers have sold their ill-gotten gains. I heard the Mayor had something of a falling out with his wife when he discovered her collection." Bronk grinned at the wood golem. "Though I suppose thats 'one in the eye' for us."

"Now, if you will excuse me, I'll get going to dinner. If I can remember which colour signs Carmen said to follow, I might even make it in time for seconds." Bronk rose, narrowly missing making another couple of holes in the ceiling, and retrieved his axe. "I wish you all well. I'll try to remember to bring back some of that blue-veined cheese you like if Carmen has any, Tony." He smiled, adding, mostly to himself, "Ah yes, blue, wasn't it."

Closing the door behind him, Bronk looked around the corridor wall for the first sign. He had brought with him when he first moved in a quite extensive collection of coloured chalks, which he had shared with several of the dungeon dwelling people he had made his acquaintence, after he explained his unfortunate lack of direction to them.

Finding the first blue arrow, he made his way, rubbing the stones clean of the marks as he went (and inwardly complaining about the mess of pointers adventurers left in the maze in chalk and paint and the number of times he had tripped over unwound string) towards the dining hall where Carmen was expecting him.

Timber

I guess the meeting is over, I've best get back to the lair and glue these back on. He held his cock and his left arm as he thought of that wizard that had conjured him those many years ago. Why couldn't the clod have had some maple or even a weeping willow. I'm not asking for oak, but balsa wood?

Timber thought about the minotaur's plan of attacking the town. It might just work and Timber could capture a wood carver and get some sturdier wooden parts.

"OK, who took my glue? That's just not funny!"

Tony, Because Not Every Prince is Turned Into a Frog

"Thanks Bronk!"

He got himself up, and looked at the wood golem. "Well, I certainly didn't What use has a Rat for glue?"

He yawned, and started back into his tunnels, making his way back to his little nest in the walls of the labyrinth.

"Full moon, full moon, how I love the full moon.
Full moon, full moon, get myself laid, yeah!
Full moon, full moon, how I love the full moon.
Full moon, full moon, lots of sex, yeah!
Full moon, full moon, gonna get laid soon.
Laid soon, laid soon, at the fucking full moon."

Carmen

Carmen had just placed an immense bowl of greens on Bronk's table when the frittering sound of plaster bits from the ceiling falling to the stone floor announced Bronk's arrival. "My what big... horns you have," she commented softly, eyeing the minotaur up and down and down again.

"I see you remembered that the arrows were blue. The ones on the way back to your maze will be yellow this evening, but I'll remind you before you leave," Carmen added with a big grin before quickly covering her mouth with her hand to hide her rapidly elongating incisors. Why did that always happen when she was excited about something?

"No meat?" Bronk asked as he sifted through the salad, half-heartedly.

"Now, Bronk" Carmen began, taking a seat opposite the muscle-bound behemoth. "You know that nothing that has... erm... Well, nothin red is good for you."

"Yeah, but what about chicken? Pork? It's the other white meat, Carmen. Fish? On Minos I used to get virgins." He looked up at her hopefully as he chewed.

Thinking that she could probably help him out with that virgin thing, Carmen sighed. All she really wanted was for Bronk to be happy. Okay, that wasn't all... but if Bronk was happy, she would be even happier. "I think I have some Boca burgers in the freezer. Will a few of those do?"

Marduk

The gargoyle was considering heading into a deeper level. He'd been notified that there was a meeting that he should probably go to, although he was kind of concerned about such gatherings. He'd been at one where someone tried to show off a new item they'd found, some icon with a blinding light spell upon it. By the time he'd recovered from his involuntary petrification, he found himself alone, except for the imp that was attempting to gnaw through his wing, and a note requesting that he repair the floor. Another time he'd accidentally knocked that golem over with his tail.

But his reverie was cut short by a glow slowly building down the corridor that led to the chamber that he was hiding in. Someone, likely a party of foolhardy idiots, was coming this way. They likely had at least one torch, which didn't bother him. Actually, it would be helpful. So long as they didn't have any magical light.

The first person crept into the room. Typical, a weasel faced person in boiled leather, carrying a sword. Behind him, a massive woman in minimal chain mail and also carrying a sword, although this one seemed to have about four times the metal of the first person's. Then a lesser mage, another fighter, a druid..

The druid was carrying the torch, and that was the downfall. With the torch entering the room, he could suddenly see the distance to the flagstones below. His bad vision suddenly tunnelled, and he fell, barely able to extend his wings enough to shift his position. He crashed to the ground..

No, not the ground. He'd crashed before, and there was usually more pain involved. This hurt, but not as much, and it sounded more.. squishy. And it was suddenly loud, and.. dark.

He rolled, trying to figure out where he was, and where they were. Something was hurting his wing, and he lashed at it, grasping tightly.

The torch. The torch was stuck in his wing, flattened slightly. The coppery smell of fresh blood. Oh, that's why he wasn't hearing the druid, or seeing the torchlight. He could hear three voices, and tried to guess where they were. He wasn't a bat, blast it, and this was annoying.

Wait, three? There had been at least four, including the mage. He could definitely hear blades scything through the air, although those that did hit really didn't do much real damage. The enchantment wouldn't last, but his skin did harden in reaction to the light levels. The torch had given him some defense for a little while.

Something caught about his ankle, and he snarled, groping for the offending item. His claws traced a.. bag. Cone. Soft, but yielding. Some sort of sigils on it's surface. Some round, some pointy.

Stars and moons. He remembered those signs. He'd seen them, recently too. One the mage's hat. Which was now on his foot, which meant that the slickness on his feet wasn't the druid.

A shout came from his side, and he spun towards it, crouching and snarling his best battle cry. No idea of who or where it was, but something impacted with his tail, and went flying with a yell and a crash. A form ran into him, and a massive sword fell behind him as someone's breath exploded from their scantily clad body. Marduk pushed away, throwing her of of him, then spinning around, listening as best as he could. Movement, several feet, running.

Running away. They wouldn't come back, not with their biggest and most powerful party members out of the picture. He found the torch and managed to carefully reignite the few embers left in it. He soon busied himself looting the bodies, and humming to himself. It was a nice bit of booty.

Maybe enough to pay for the vampire's floor.

"They will do nicely I'm sure," Bronk nodded, happily tucking into the bowl Carmen had placed out with a salad fork and knife, which looked even smaller in his huge hands. "Anything as long as it isn't dryed adventurers rations. Its all they ever seem to bring with them, and water flasks. Ale, sometimes, if theres a dwarf, and thats usually watered down too."

The chair beneath him creaked as he got comfortable, but Timber had made a good job of reinforcing the furniture in the areas the DDC frequented. "This is great, Carmen," he grinned between another couple of mouthfuls, "where did you learn to prepare food like this?" he asked conversationally. "Its much appreciated."

He smiled, the gratifying feeling of proper food hitting his stomaches making him more good humoured.

"Oh, I promised Tony if you had any of that blue--- um blue-lined cheese I'd bring some back for him," he said, narrowly avoiding the word 'veined,' knowing it came pretty close to the B word Carmen found so distasteful. "Though he'd probably settle for any kind, except that dwarven mountain-goat stuff. Brings him out in a rash, apparently."

Marduk

The twists and turns of the dungeon could be confusing, but several methods of tracking the levels had been put in place by various inhabitants. Marduk had found that he could sense, to a rudimentary level, the depth below ground level that he was, and after that he had taken to scratching sigils into the upper levels of corners near the ceilings. A sigil in the form of a pair of fangs and an arrow pointed him to the vampire's lair.

Her place was well known, and apparently it was fairly popular tonight. Voices could be heard from within, and he considered for a moment. Still, he could be careful. Cautiously, he knocked at the door, then slowly entered, his eyes slitted, his wings folded close to his body.

"I brought you compensation for the accident last time." Having a vampire angry at you was a bad thing. Of course, offering captured treasure that had been scavenged from crushed bodies might not always be the best decision with a vampire of her caliber.

Tony, Because Rodents are Creatures, Too

Tony yawned as he wandered his tunnels. Every now and then he'd run across one of the normal rats that ran threw the tunnels. They weren't eaxctly what one would call intelligent, but Tony found he could get ideas across to them in some language of squeeks and facial movement he didn't fully comprehend how he knew.

Few rodents lived here, but those that did took their orders from Tony. For the most part, they just scrabbled around when adventurers were around, and gnawed on whatever corpses were around.

Seems the gargoyle had made a fresh kill and moved off, so the rodents were all racing towards the fresh meat before the blind fool came back and they'd have to run for their lives.

Tony much preferred whatever scraps he could get from real food. Especially cheese. He'd always loved cheese.

He found the familiar tunnel to his home, a large open space with a hole that ran out into the labyrinth. It was padded with softer bits of fabric taken from dead adventurers. He settled himself down for the night, stretching a bit.

"Three nights. Mmm. I wonder if I should hang around here or go score with the wench in town. So many women,...so little time as a man. Damn sorceress."

Bronk grinned at Marduk, as the gargoyle settled down in a more shadowy corner of the dining hall. "Take it the adventurer population just went down some?" He asked, "No matter how many you get rid off, there always seems to be more ready to fill in the ranks though. I swear they must breed like rabbits."

He chewed thoughtfully for a bit on some celery. "I wonder what would happen if all the dungeons and tombs and ruins and such closed down? Maybe thats what we need. A strike of somekind. Or a protest rally. Its really been getting out of hand of late, all these adventurer's calling any time of the day or night, without even announcing their arrival. Maybe we should sell entrance tickets? Or get them to make appointments?. Not that I expect many of them can sign their own name, bar the wizards and priests."

He turned his mind back to the matter at hand - namely, stocking his stomaches up on good food - when he heard the sizzling as Carmen began preparing some boca burgers from the ice storage room in a skillet. As a vampire, she moved with a silent gracefulness that he found quite enchanting to watch, not that she herself wasn't enchanting to look at stood completely still. Bronk smiled watching her at work, whilst he took his time finishing the generous helping of salad that had been laid out for him.