The lower they went, the damper it became. Soon, the trickling and gurgling of small streams could be heard, and Ulor with the octopus were greeted by the penumbral dimness of a dungeon. If the cathedral aboveground had conveyed a sense of familiarity and a long-lost home being rediscovered, these grimy tunnels appealed to an entirely different aspect of the mage's slumbring joy. It was the subterranean darkness of foul lairs, shadowy caverns, putrid catacombs and sigtless mazes that often concealed the most striking and extraordinary esoteric secrets, buried under piles of malodorous rubble, in decomposing grimoires or on frightfully ancient tables. Then and again, if he was lucky, he might even happen upon some ongoing process of unnameable summoning or conjuration, or encounter some uncommon creature. Now, this descent promised to be especially bountiful in all of these regards, given what they had encountered above. All in all, he was pleasantly impatient.

Having reached the bottom, Ulor paused for a moment, warily looking around, as the foremost members of the group advanced further north. There did not seem to be much to the west; the south was dark, but it might have warranted investigating, provided nothing menacing appeared out of it at present; eastwards, there was a weak light. That was most likely where some of the most valuable finds would lie, as well as potential dangers. Like the south, it would have to be probed thoroughly and cautiously, and the water he heard there might just help with that-

A warning shout, followed by a loud, crashing sound brought his attention back to the northern passage. What had these oaves already broken? The voice had been that of the feline; little wonder - what could one expect of these animalistic beings? - but all the more aggravating. She seemed bent on destroying what few leads they could find, and, he suspected, would lead them entirely astray unless her bestial clumsiness was restrained.

Ulor hurried down the corridor, octopus floating alarmedly behind him, and emerged into the chamber in time to see the dwarf being eased out of the shattered tank. His face was distorted by a spasm of anger as he observed the foul liquid flowing in a pool over the ground, amid the remains of the container.
"Savages!" he croaked, standing between the second tank and the vandals responsible for this ruin, "Do you have any idea of what you are breaking? What alchemical mixtures might be at work here? Hold!"

He swiped his staff over the floor, as if to draw a line in front of himself, and tall, unnaturally green tongues of flame rose up as a wall, blocking him and the surviving vat out of the others' sight.
"Not a step closer until I am finished with this one!" Ulor enjoined, as the octopus hovered in circles above him and presumably tried to appear intimidating.


[hider=Mine! All mine!]
Ulor conjures a [i]Silent Image[/i] to try and keep the others away from the second tank.

[/hider]