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First Floor
In Combat




From his lowered stance, Castor watched as the kobold blindly charged at him with a leaping attack. From Castor’s position, he was ready to receive such a direct and linear attack. He wouldn’t take any chances against the wildly swinging monster. Leaping back, Castor extended his spear and raised it against the oncoming kobold bracing the butt of the spear against the dungeon floor. Hopefully, the weight and momentum of the already airborne kobold would impale itself on the spear. As the kobold landed, Castor released his spear in a fluid movement and deftly drew his shortsword. The shortsword in his arms looked like a glaive as it cut through the air at the neck of the hopefully immobilized kobold.




Dungeon Entrance
11 AM



Perhaps Castor would forget it for now. Dahlia seemed less than inclined to remember the events of the night prior, which seemed a good signal that the truth was better buried forever. Castor shrugged and followed after Oben who seemed almost as eager as himself to get this started. He looked back at Kori and Varanense, they seemed capable enough but the archer put a bad taste in his mouth. He seemed more than eager to relax at his own pace, a slacker? Castor looked forward and continued his way into the dungeon, spear resting on his shoulder. For a glory hunter, Varanense’s relaxed demeanor only meant there was one less rival to compete against. More for me.



First Floor
Later



The first floor was a familiar path for Castor who had visited the dungeon solo frequently. More unfamiliar was travelling in a party, the concept of teamwork seemed to fly over his high horse as he more than often stomped ahead of the party eager to slay monsters. Jumping to fight whatever crossed the party’s path as they navigated the blue-lit corridors.

They came across room filled with seven kobolds close to the path to the second floor. Castor grinned and gripped his spear tightly as he prepared to charge into the crowd of unsuspecting furry beasts like the reckless son of a bitch he was.

“Well, y’know the drill-o. Castor, strong lad like you can take em all yourself, yeah?”

He turned to reply to Varanense’s sarcastic remark but his attention was grabbed as Kori cast magic on Oben and charged in herself, beating him to it. Oben followed in closely after her buffed by whatever Kori had cast on him. Castor gritted his teeth frustratedly, he wouldn’t let them get ahead of him. He placed a hand on his chest as he began chanting to himself

"Grant me glory, Grant me virtue. Lead the charge. Feel no fear. Crimen Gloriae"

A crimson glow enveloped astor for a brief time as he felt a calming feeling build up within him. He held his spear point outward and dashed forward with enhanced speed. He weaved around the pillars to the side and extended his spear meters away from a kobold on the left side of the clump. His long arm shot the spear out like a ballista bolt targeted at the kobold’s neck. Recoiling the spear back he took a breath as he twirled it in his fingertips. Getting in a low stance he held the spear ready to strike, like a viper ready to snap at whatever counterattack the kobolds struck with.

@Squirrel98

Back sorry, semester is over now so I am free to post!


Well this was certainly going to be interesting. A test was a good way to gauge the abilities of those gathered. Killian shrugged, it was definitely no easy task to accomplish with Catamount watching over the island. A latecomer descended from a tree and received his guild mark. Sneaky. He made his way over to the group and asked if anybody had any leads. The girl who had been in front of him to receive her mark, Helena, seemed impatient to get this over with.

It seemed as it would be best serving to play the role of a team player as Zane seemed to want. ”Why don’t you climb back up that tree and see what you can spot from the top?” Killian suggested half-sarcastically. Unless any in the group had any sort of tracking ability or magic, they were going to have to wander into the woods blindly searching for this creature.

@soren




Victory Manor
8 AM



SPLASH

A shocking cold feeling washed over Castor as he struggled for breath. He shot up from the ground sitting upright, he was sopping wet from head to toe. He wiped the cold water from his eyes as he blew his nostrils free of water. He looked around, he was sitting in the foyer of Victory Manor with Bellona standing over him. In her arms she held a wooden bucket, the weapon used to drown him seconds earlier.

Castor jumped to his feet, a sharp pain hit his arm as stood up. He shivered as a breeze hit his back, the wooden doors were wide open. Presumably, he had made it back home by a miracle and had passed out before he could even close the doors behind him.

”Looks like someone had an eventful night.”

The goddess held a wry smile on her face as Castor internally sighed. He would not hear the end of this, he could already hear her teasings over this going on months into the future. Clutching his arm he spoke, ”Yeah yeah, hilarious.” He shook his good arm as droplets of water spattered the cobblestone floor. ”You could’ve just woken me up normally dammit.” muttered Castor.

The goddess merely smiled, “I could have...but this was much more enjoyable.’ She set the bucket down on the ground and started to walk back into the hallway she came. ”Make sure you clean up this mess.’ she called over her shoulder as she walked away.

Castor stood there in the puddle, embarrassed and slightly nauseous, with an especially shitty taste in his mouth. He winced as an image of him puking in someone else mouth flashed through his mind for a second. His stained blouse was now soaked and stuck to his body. Running a hand through his damp black hair he strained to remember what had occurred the night before. Conveniently, he just remembered Dahlia and Odin’s spiel before he blacked out. After that was just flashes and pieces of a hectic night. Feeling his arm and the fishy taste in his mouth, Castor figure it was probably for the best that he not remember for now.

As he started to remove his soaked clothing he felt a crinkle in his left pocket. He pulled out a half soaked crumpled up note. As Castor unfolded it he was greeted by a bill for 825,000 v from Odin himself, resolved if this party could reach level 2 within the year. A near impossible feat as it was unprecedented to pass level 1 in such a short timeframe. The backside of the note said 11 am, so he would have no time to think about it.

”Tch”

Castor crushed the note in his hand and crammed it into the visor of a decorative suit of armor. He balled up his soaked blouse and started to wipe up the wet floor. The angry look on his face slowly turned to a wide grin. ”Too fucking easy.”


Dungeon Entrance
Hours Later



Castor made his way over to Dahlia and the others, now rehydrated and motivated. He was antsy and ready to go. An opportunity had presented itself with this ‘alliance of gods’ to showcase his abilities and make a name for himself. He stood at least almost a head taller than everyone else as he took his place amongst the group. He wore a well-worn leather jerkin over a long sleeved white shirt. His pants were loose and comfortable, allowing for maximum movement and breathability. On his belt was a shabby leather scabbard with a small shortsword no longer than a foot. Castor rested his spear over his shoulders as he hung his long arms over it, like a scarecrow watching over a field.

Castor watched as Varanense introduced himself and the cat-person heartily clapped him on the back and spoke optimistically. Castor chuckled to himself and sneered, ”That wrinkly old man can play whatever games he wants, level 2 is no sweat, debt or not.” His arrogance was palpable as level 2 was indeed a sweat.

He sauntered over to Dahlia and leaned on his spear down to eye level with a pensive look on his face. His long fingers stroked his chin as he looked at her deep in thought examining her facial features closely. ”Did I puke on you last night by any chance?”





Victory Manor
Yesterday at Noon



Sunshine poured into a wide room through the open silk curtains.. The room was furnished ornately, with antiques and heirlooms thousands of years old. Paintings depicting battle and war decorated the walls over detailed floral wallpaper. It was a room you would be afraid to cough in lest you break something. Only two occupied the lavish room, seated in the middle opposite eachother. Between them was a beautifully carved circular black walnut table with an equally beautiful chess set made of ivory and marble on top. The room was quiet besides the soft chirping of birds and the whistle of wind that could be heard through through the slightly ajar window.

”Better make your move. I’m getting tired...” The goddess broke the silence. With a snide smile she faked a yawn. ”You may as well give up already Castor. We’ll be here past dusk if you can’t pick up the pace.”

”Shut up, genius takes time.” snapped Castor. A bead of sweat ran down the side of his forehead as his expression remained focused. Tension took the air as he reached his hand across the table, his long fingers plucked the bishop from its’ spot as he held it in the air before his gaze. His eyes narrowed as he inspected the piece.

Oh...he finally makes his move?...an interesting choice… The goddess looked at him with anticipation.

Another bead of sweat ran down Castor’s cheek as he stared at the piece then back to the table. What was his move? What could possibly have him contemplating so hard? What the fuck was this piece again? The drop of sweat hit the floor as Castor definitively placed the bishop down in its’ new spot with a clack. Miraculously, his move was still within the rules of chess. With a weak grin of forced confidence he looked up at the goddess “Heh, I bet you weren’t expecting that. It’s only a matter of time now before my victory is certain.” He said as he wiped the sweat from his forehead.

The goddess sighed. She adjusted her glasses and brushed back a strand of her silky black hair from her face. “No Castor, I’m not quite sure what I was expecting to be honest.” She reached her hand out. Her skin was porcelain and flawless, her fingers were delicate and her nails long and manicured. She picked up her rook with grace and placed it down with authority. clack. She looked up at Castor with her coal black eyes and waited a dramatic moment.

”Checkmate.”

She creased her pink lips with a smile as Castor stared at the table dumbfoundedly. ”I-impossible” sputtered Castor. Bellona stood up from the table and stretched her arms over her head. She picked up her coat and slung it over her shoulder as she turned to Castor, still seated, staring at the table in shock. ”Maybe next time you’ll pose an actual challenge.” teased the goddess. With a flip of her hair over her other shoulder, she elegantly strode out the room in victory.

Defeated, Castor sulked at the table with his long arms crossed in front of his chest. ”If I had one more move I could’ve won…” he muttered to himself. His sulking was interrupted as he heard a loud clunking from down the hall, a knock at the main entrance. He stood up and slapped his hands on each of his cheeks. Next time won’t be so easy

Morale recovered, he walked down the hall as his boots clicked against the stone floor, echoing through the empty hallway. The large oaken doors creaked as he pulled them open. Sunshine poured into the entrance hall and glistened off the decorative armor sets that lined the wall. As Castor’s eyes adjusted to the sunlight he found himself staring at the chin of a figure before him. He looked up and locked eyes with a woman with long braided blond hair. Her braid fell down to the middle of her back, decorated with golden clasps. She was pretty with ice-blue eyes and a heart-shaped face. Castor wasn’t used to looking up at people and couldn’t recall ever meeting a woman taller than him. ”Whaddya want.” He said as he leaned against the door frame. Smooth.

The woman bowed as she held out an envelope with both hands. ”The one known as Castor Caraway has been invited by milord Odin to Little Valhalla tomorrow evening. Lord Odin would be honored to accept him as our honored guest for the night.”

”Uh…okay?” Castor took the envelope from the bowing woman and stared at it. Sure enough it indeed carried a stamp of the Odin familia. Castor cleared his throat. ahem...Well you can tell Odin- that the legend, Castor Caraway himself, will be there tomorrow, so he better have the place ready to receive someone of my ilk.” The woman gave a polite smile and bowed in response, then turned and walked the way she came, her heels clacking on the cobblestone pathway as her braid swayed across her thin waist. Castor pushed the door shut and looked at the envelope with a grin Finally. They are starting to recognize my greatness.


Little Valhalla
Present



Castor eyed the woman in white suspiciously as she pushed the door open. The gust of a wonderful feast greeted his nose as he cautiously stepped in, keeping an eye on the woman in white as he entered. The great door shut behind him as he took in the sight. The wealth displayed was extravagant and the atmosphere radiant. It was a direct parallel to the dusty empty manor of his own familia. Castor stood dressed in the best outfit he could scrounge up amongst the closets of the manor, a loose white blouse hastily tucked into brown cotton breeches, held up by a black leather belt. The belt's buckled was polished gold and brandished the emblem of the Bellona familia, a torch surrounded by a laurel wreath. His worn leather boots sank into the carpet below him, and he was fighting the urge to take them off. Castor looked around, unfortunately he had deigned not to consult Bellona before coming here as petty revenge for his loss in their game the day prior. Consequently, he really had no idea what to expect.

A lack of direction had never defeated him before, as he began to confidently stride between the tables. He plucked an unoccupied chalice of wine from a table and took a deep gulp. Onlookers gave a cheers to the newcomer as Castor raised his chalice to them in response, relishing in the attention. While enjoying the merriment he spotted a few familiar faces. The woman with black starry eyes, Dahlia, and the white-haired cat woman. He knew of Dahlia from her time in the lower floors and from her book series “Dungeon Storia”, which Castor was a fan of, though he would never admit it. He had seen the other woman in the lower floors accompanying people of her familia. Though it had seemed like less of accompanying and more of babysitting? He took a sip of his fifth cup of wine and walked (maybe swaying a little bit) over to them chalice in hand. As it turned out, Dahlia was apparently some kind of a greeter meant to receive them. Castor took another swig of wine as he listened to her speak. When she was finished he held the chalice above his open mouth as the last drops of his drink pattered onto his tongue. He wiped the sweet red wine from his lips with the sleeve of his blouse, staining it with a blotch of dark pink. He looked over at the cat woman now more closely. The cat woman’s tight white dress accentuated her well toned figure, the body of a fighter. Interestingly her hat was one commonly worn by mages. Castor stared at her necklace, the shapes of the wheel started to swirl. The cat woman spoke:

"Right, so, before we get caught up in anything, do you mind telling us oh I don't know, why any of us are here in the first place?"

@Argonaut

The more the merrier



I hope the stats are ok! I wasn't really sure what was too weak or too strong
I'd love to join if possible! Is there a CS floating around somewhere or do I make my own?
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