Ochit looked at the now shiny and new weapons. Taking each of the great axes in hand he tested them for feel and balance against his own. Finding one that seemed to fit him best, he claimed it as his own. Then, he laid his old axe with the other weapons. "Gooder axe. Not steal, make trade." He took some time to think about the zombies outside and the stairs downwards. "Down more good than outside." He moved towards the stairs, ready to explore the unknown.

Ochit moved towards the stairs, while Reynard tested his new metal longsword. Reynard muttered to himself, "I've always preferred the warhammer. I feel it is more of a symbol of peace, as a hammer can build or destroy. Even if the warhammer makes it less useful for the former. I guess the sword is more of a noble and elegant weapon though." He chuckled to himself, before turning around to face the stairs.

He squinted in the dark. Morrigu may have been at home in this light, but he certainly wasn't. Lighting a torch, at least until someone had a more efficient way of making light, he peered down the steps.

(OOC: I'll get the level'd up version tomorrow)

Trossach looked around the guard room - it had once been the TOP of a garrison of some sort? That seemed odd, but in these lands it didn't seem impossible. Eventually even this room would probably be consumed by the dark land. Hopefully not while they were in it.

He admired the newly shiny weapons on the floor, ignoring for the moment the magic that had polished them. There was a fortune on the floor in front of him. He liked his maul, it had always felt good in his hands, but metal made for a weapon of great power. Maul or not, he didn't think he could pass this up. So he reached down and grabbed a great axe and tested its heft. "I think this great axe should do very well. I shall replace my weapons with fine steel. And steel tipped arrows - those will work as well."

He leaned his well used maul against the wall - it was probably a lot to carry if he wasn't planning on using it. The big Mul also grabbed a big sword to have as a backup and filled his quiver with 20 steel tipped arrows unless there weren't enough or someone else also wanted some. Once finished he looked at the others and spoke again. "We probably can't take everything with us now, but we will want to come back this way to reclaim any weapons we can't carry now. I don't wish to leave my trusty maul behind forever. For now, let us head down the stairs. unless someone objects, Ochit, lead on."

(Leveling up info should be coming in a message within 30 minutes.)

Everyone makes an agreement, Reynard lights a torch and the flickering light is a welcome comfort. Even for those who can see in the dark.

A set of stone steps go downwards, the walls unnaturally bare of any form of fungus or life for something so old. As you walk further and further down, the sounds of the zombies and the storm get fainter and fainter. It takes a while to walk down, it appears that this was a large tower as it descends about 3 stories before you finally step into a large room.

There are 2 sets of doors, both of them are made of rusted metal which look like they can be easily broken down. One of them appears to lead into a set of sleeping quarters. There are small chest at the end of each bed, probably for personal effects. The other door leads into what appears to be a small defensive area. There are raised platforms with pillars and such to hide behind and as well, there are spikes that would prevent a charge from happening stacked along the walls. On the ground, an old arcane sigil can be made, chiseled into the stone floor.

Another door leads straight ahead and another is to the right.

Trossach moved down the stairs deeper into the sunken tower holding his new, but actually very old, steel greataxe. it felt good in his hands. It felt powerful. Strong. Armor that might turn aside a stone blade would have trouble with this. He could not help but wonder how long before its blade would be wet.

When they reached the bottom of the stairs it became obvious that their initial guess that this was really a large tower that buried under the black sands was likely correct. Four doors led off from a central room. He stared for a moment at the arcane symbol on the floor. It meant little to him other than "magic" - perhaps it made sense that it was in one of the black zones. He wondered how those in the group who used magic would see it. He glanced at the bug and the dark elf curious about their reactions.

Cautiously the group looked into two of the side rooms - one was filled with obstacles to hide behind and seemed to be a defensive area. He and the others (assumption) quickly checked to make sure that nothing actually was hiding behind anything. It seemed doubtful, but he didn't like the idea of just walking up to a defensive position. The big Mul felt exposed. So he checked everything out.

Finding nothing, they moved on to another door - and found what appeared to be a barracks. Beds and chests, but no body in the beds. They were going to need to spend the night in this tower anyway, so he glanced at the beds. This one was too small. The one next to it was too big. But then he saw one that looked . . . just right! But no, real adventures were not quite like nursery rhymes. His 7' frame was actually a bit big for all of the beds. (Assumption - is this true? Are they roughly human sized?) There was no "just right" for him here.

After contemplating sleeping arrangements, he made sure to look around and under all of the beds - again, nothing hiding here! The group also went through all of the trunks. Who knows, maybe somebody left something nice behind? It happened.

With the first two rooms explored, the group looked to the other two doors. Trossach spoke up. "Lets listen at both doors to see if we can hear anything. Then, assuming we can't, we pick a door. Going right always feels right to me. Lets try that one." If nobody disagreed, he looked to the 1/2 orc and said, "Ochit. Lead on big guy." As usual, he held his weapon at the ready, standing just to the side of the door about to be opened.

Ochit helped search the room and then moved to the door on the right. Rather than stop and listen he knocked on the door and then quickly stepped to the side. If nothing came through the door in a few moments he would open it and see what might be on the other side.

Reynard moved down the stairs, shield on his left arm and torch in his right hand. He hoped the would encounter too much, as he would have a very hard time fighting. He'd either have to drop his torch for his shiny new sword, or fight with that. At least he'd be able to cover whoever stood near him with his shield.

To no one in particular, Reynard thought out loud, "When I was a child, my parents told me that it is normal to fear the dark. You never know what lurks in the shadows."

They briefly examined the room, before checking around the room. The beds could be a nice place to camp once they had searched the basement level.

Trossach and Ochit began to prepare to move to the right door, Reynard followed up behind them. "Anyone have a free hand to carry this torch for me? I'd like to be able to wield my sword," Reynard asked.

Morrígu basked in the glory of the darkness. It covered all in its shadow; consuming, swallowing. To her eyes the world became alive again, form became clearer in the void, like a mirror to the world of light. To her eyes it was right and true. She was home. And then the light returned.

The dark elven girl hissed at Reynard as he waved around the nasty torchlight. This light didn't burn her eyes, but after days of wandering beneath the sunlight horror Morrígu yearned for complete darkness.

Muttering drow curses about light blind fools and impotency, the little witch followed the rest of the group. Her restraint in not smothering the torchlight was a feat worthy of divine praise, yet none of the others even noticed. This brought another litany of profanity from her lips.

They all seemed to mutter to themselves from time to time, a symptom of the outcast walking together. Little secrets of themselves spilling out into the dark.

Reynard spoke to himself just as she walked past, "When I was a child, my parents told me that it is normal to fear the dark. You never know what lurks in the shadows."

Hearing this, Morrígu turned her gaze upon the man, her violet and blue eyes drawing him in. An ancient knowing seemed to overtake the mercurial girl.

"There is mystery in the darkness," she spoke in smooth calm tones, "and the mysteries are God."

A fey giggle left her lips and she skipped away from Reynard to the darker corners of the passage.

Soon their journey let them to an empty barracks. When their search found nothing it was decided they would follow the door to the right. Magic crackled around her as they prepared to continue on.

((OOC: Sorry, just saw this!))