“Now I’m going to draw you lot a little map, then I’m off, I’m going to make them pay for hurting Buttons, we all are, that should buy you the time to do this.” Veggie stated giving a series of hind-paw taps, as a mass of older looking rats emerged from the shadows,(which Mibbet could have sworn was empty previously, that made her more than just a bit nervous, after all it was Gidea level of sneaky, which made most assassins look like a marching band in comparison. Not something you want in a conflict if you are suffering from sudden onset royalty.) Clutching a nightmarish array of things that could technically not be considered weapons, but could clearly do the job. One was even clutching a tool box, and every rat showed the marks of many fights in the past. Clearly the old guard were out in force. Then as fast as they appeared they vanished.
Mibbet looked at the directions anxiously, as out on the streets they could hear the sound of fights breaking out, one way or another this would end today.
They dashed off down a dark alley, carefully avoiding the crowds, soon joined by Rascal and Alba (who had been having fun knocking out anybody who came near them until Mibbet returned) thus reunited they aimed for the heart of the rot. The great tower.
The tower was to say the least not a pretty sight, no wonder so many avoided the damned place, it was covered in statues of angels, demons, Gods, and gargoyles. As if the wizards who lived there had tried to bury their crimes under religious symbolism. Not realising that if the core rots it doesn’t matter how much you cover it up with good stuff it still stinks. Kind of like applying air freshener to a zombie. On top of that there was just a bad feeling to the place, like the ominousness that should have belonged to the entire city was painfully concentrated all in one convenient architectural feature, and of course there was no door on this level. Meaning they had to enter through a window. It is never particularly reassuring to have to bend down to enter a place via an entrance too small to draw a weapon in. Particularly if it requires you to lower your head and expose your neck, a posture no royal with any knowledge of how their predecessors became deceased will ever wish to imitate.
Luckily Addy resolved that particular issue for them when she raised a drill like arm and punched her way in.”When the gods close a door they open a window, but hit it hard enough you get a new door.” She muttered philosophically as one by one they slipped into the new opening and entered the tower.
“What I wouldn’t give for some of those magic relighting torches right now” Errol muttered to himself. Not being a big fan of the dark, but at least Rascal was proving helpful, as were Addy between the glowing stone she was made of, and the whole burning eyes look that Rascal rocked it was a reassuring combination in the darkness. (At least more reassuring than eyes made of flame in a place decorated with sculpted demons usually is when the eyes owners aren’t on your side. Having them on your team so long as you have food to offer them is usually a tad reassuring. Even if you know you sure as hell better not run low on treats while alone with them.)
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The inside of the tower itself was a bit iffy to be honest, bits looked barely a week from construction. Others looked like one wrong step and you would quickly find yourself three floors down or more. Each of which would likely be on top of you, so testing every step was pretty much essential.
Elvira was definitely earning her keep by using Spikey The Motivational Pike as a gauge to test the floor ahead of them. If a little stick with a spearhead was sinking into the wood, or Spikey came back covered in anything unspeakable then it was a safe bet that going that way rather than taking a detour was not a safe bet. Sir Leeroy meanwhile was with Addy as the rear guard on the principle that they were the most likely to go through a floor and be inconvenienced by it. While the most likely to survive said plunge and be retrievable. (Rascal was using the excessive gargoyles to essentially play the floor is lava so had barely touched the ancient boards, while Alba had wings which would make that danger nonexistent for them.)
As they descended they noticed a problem, apparently leaving a large number of wizard labs unattended was something of a problem after a time. Spells had a tendency to degrade, and corrupt. What had once been plain old water scrolls was now spewing out what could only be described as sludge into the lower floors. Fire gems had literally burned through their hearths and essentially tunnelled downwards through floor after floor, leaving random craters. Plus plant magic had gone wild, leading to brambles that didn’t seem to get the memo about needing sunlight. But the journey they had to take was only a few floors further down and deeper in. They could do this. Though it would require a substantial number of detours by the looks of things.
More than once they stumbled upon what was left of a former wizard, and to Mibbet’s immense surprise they actually seemed to be staying horizontal. Which seemed to Mibbet to be rarer than the ambulatory variant these days, particularly when bloody wizards were involved.
“Well we’re making good time” Mibbet said “but there’s no way we’re making it tonight.”
“We’ll Bivouac a little further in if we have to” Sir Leeroy said.
“Gross, you should have gone before we left,” Elvira snickered.
"That isn't what that means and you know it Princess, now behave yourself please."
“For now though we’d best keep going.” Mibbet said as they carefully started crossing a stone bridge over a corrosive goop many floors below. They were somewhat disturbed in their planning though by a terrifying snarling roar from the depths so loud it seemed to shake the tower.
“I think I just Bivouacked myself” Errol whimpered