"Hellcats," said Darius. A tall man with broad shoulders as he lifted an axe from the now severed neck of a large cat-like creature. He dragged the flat of an axe blade across the dead animal's fur before sheathing it in an equally massive sheath across his back. "Too clever for their own good."

"Woe to the day they learn that playing dead doesn't work against adventurers." Said the Professor, a figure wrapped in blue robes. He knelt before the separated Hellcat heads and grinned. "I bet these would sell; mages always look for ways to dress up their constructs."

"I'll have lootboy grab everything that isn't bolted down, maybe even some of the stonework," Darius said. He walked to a wall, pulled out a dagger, and carefully dragged the tip where the stones met. The four walls were covered in grey stone with black plaster between them, creating a grid-like pattern. The dagger did not damage the mortar or whatever they used to line the room.

"Are you looking to replace the rocks in your head?" Sirah said in a soft feminine voice from the shadow of a massive stone creature's corpse. Her all-black clothing creates the illusion she is nothing more than a shadow against the wall when in light. "Even if we could take the stones, I doubt anyone would want to buy them."

"We don't have to tell them it is from a prison," Darius said. He swapped the dagger with a different one. A dagger coated in sparkly bits of something, but it scratched the black mortar, leaving a little dust on the blade. Darius inspected the tiny line he made in the wall before licking his finger and tapping it against the black dust. Rubbing it between two fingers, he couldn't feel anything recognizable about the grit; even a quick taste with his tongue yielded nothing.

"Sure, we can just say we bought a castle and decided to move it to another location," Sirah said.

"The time to…" Prof was interrupted.

"Leave the walls," said Tristan. A kneeling figure wearing plate and chain armor covered every inch of her except an oval from which her face poked out. She stood up, the metal and chain ringing and a mace hanging from a thick leather belt at her waist. Tristan's tabard covered her chest plate and almost down to her knees; it had seen better days, dark grey in spots and frayed on the edges, splots of blood. Her face furrowed but lacked any shadows from the light she radiated. "These prisons were built by powers we don't understand."

"They could be magical, possibly even..." Darius carefully examined the wall, checking if his sparkly dagger could damage the grey blocks. He rubbed the tip of the blade between his fingers to feel if anything had been scratched off; nothing.

"We leave them; if the dead gods decided to keep them, then we should tread carefully." The glowing figure closed her eyes, and the light expanded, flowing through the open doorway and lighting up the hallway and previous rooms behind them. Even if we send all the occupants to their final judgment, there is a chance we'll miss something, and I don't want to grant early release to something that'll terrorize the countryside."

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"Or worse, we may need these again if the veil gets torn open again." The Professor added as he scratched an itch on his neck.

"Alright, I'll get the lootboy." Darius was interrupted by a glare from Tristan. "Er, Tobian, to start gathering everything here." He sheathed his dagger and seemed to deflate a little.

"Darius, remember, a measure of a man's chara," Tristan started to say but was interrupted by a wave of both hands from the tall fighter.

"Yeah, I know. Not only is he a member of our group, but he is a valuable asset. I, you know, it's hard to get over…." Darius looked toward the doorway, away from his group. His eyes were unfocused as he relived a memory only he could see. He shook free from the memory and straightened up. "I mastered the Gorathian mansplitter, and I can master overcoming my predispositions."

With a short nod, he turned and headed through the open doorway and over multiple battle scenes. A room filled with giant beetles, each as large as a man, and another room where tentacles stretched out from the wall before the group managed to sever them into little ineffective pieces. Each room was a battle with the former occupants who'd escaped their cell and killed the jailors but hadn't been able to get past the magically locked doors. He waded through three stairways and eight rooms of carnage before getting to a massive open space with several broken marble chairs.

Kneeling in the middle of the room was a young man. Not as tall as Darius, but taller than Tristan or the Professor. He wore some poorly fitted clothing with patches and a sleeve that didn't match the other. Around his waist was a belt with a dozen small pouches and bags tied tightly. On his back was a larger pack that looked like it weighed more than he did.

Multiple rocks, a broken sword, a dozen arrows, and a dented bucket lay scattered around him on the floor. The items had no pattern or order; if Lootboy hadn't been there, Darius would not have noticed them.

"Darius, is everything ok?" the young man stood up quickly. He had a measuring string in one hand and looked like he was getting the distance between two rocks. "How may I serve?" He gave a little bow.

"Loot, er, Tobian, no need for such," Darius waved a hand at the young man. "We have cleared several rooms and would like to start gathering stuff."

"Certainly," Tobian stammered. He quickly gathered up a couple of rocks and the sword with a blade broken off about three inches from the hilt. The items, along with the measuring string, disappeared into a bag.

"Loo…" Darius sighed, "I'm sorry. Let's go. I think the last level has a dragon, and I don't want to miss the fight." With a tilt of his head, Darius motioned the lootboy into the next room. Without waiting for him, he stepped into the next room.

Tobian quickly hurried after Darius, leaving behind the bucket, arrows, and some paper with numbers written on it.

Multiple bodies of hogmen lay scattered throughout the room. The half-man, half-pig creatures were not moving, and while Darius was intrigued at the possibility of getting some bacon or delicious meat out of them, he remembered Tristan, the healer, would not look kindly.

"Ya ever see a centaur, but instead of a horse, its pig?" Darius muttered as Tobian walked into the room. "Me either, but Tristan said we are leaving the meat."

"Darn, bacon would have sounded good for breakfast, regardless of the source," Tobian said as he walked up to the first corpse and started pulling off the weapons and armor from the creature.

Darius nodded in agreement as he stepped over a small puddle of blood to get closer to the door leading deeper in. He pulled out his battleaxe, the head almost as large as his chest. The previous owner was a giant from a fight years ago. Standing near the door, he watched the entrances while waiting for the lootboy, er Tobian, to get anything of value from the corpses.

Thump! Darius hit himself in the chest once he caught himself thinking about Tobian with any name other than Tobian. Deciding he'll fix this how he fixed any bad habit, he would promise himself twenty pushups with full gear on for every time he slipped up. One way or the other, he fixes his weakness.