A wrong Turn

The clink of chains from high above is the first evidence of a presence in the dungeon. Dray, currently out hunting isn’t there to watch the black leather clad man slowly descending down the chains supporting the bone cage from the ceiling. He never would have found the small opening if Raven hadn’t shown him exactly where to look. Breathing steadily he lowers himself hand over hand, his black booted ankles twisted in the chain to provide control. The chain swings more and more as he gets lower, his movements causing the chain to swing like a giant pendulum. The ankle length black leather jacket he wears billows out from his body exposing a chiselled chest under a fitted shirt and gleaming hilts at his belt. Finally reaching the cage, he squats to peer over the edge and judges the distance to the ground. His dark hair is waxed into a mohawk running the length of his head easily standing 2 inches high. Ice blue eyes narrow in a face set with hard features and a strong jaw line, flashing as he calculates. Reaching to his waist, he moves his jacket aside to remove a coiled leather whip. Eyeing the floor he skilfully flicks the end to curl around the chain. Breathing deeply he swings silently to the floor landing in a half kneel, hand resting on the belt of blades as his eyes sharply peer around the room to ascertain he remains alone. Rising slowly he relaxes as he looks around the room and deftly uncoils the whip to coil it back on his belt, raising an eyebrow in curiosity at the table of instruments he nods his head in silent approval. Looking to the two exits of the room he frowns as he tries to recall Raven’s instructions. Moving to exit through through one arch he changes his mind and spins to move quickly through the large stone arch and into to the awaiting darkness.

The walls close in, the roof becoming lower until he travels through tunnels. The occasional fairie light along the walls lights the passage with an eerie low glow, still leaving large gaps between lit areas where the darkness and shadows seem to broil ominously. The walls gradually change from rough hewn rock to carefully laid stone work, the lights begin to become more sparse as a soft orange glow becomes the light source. Kneeling down he trails a finger over the softly glowing mushrooms of an odd rusty orange colour,he grins as the light pulses at his touch. Rising again he continues along the passage, occasionally turning here and there as he comes across intersections. Quickly realising he has taken the wrong exit from Dray’s lair he attempts to retrace his steps. Coming across a large opening in the tunnels, he frowns as he looks around knowing he hadn’t passed this before. In the centre of the opening is a large stone statue in the magnificent muscled form of a minotaur. Several different passages lead off this cavern, and Andrew hesitates as he tries to decide which direction to take.