Fairy waltz

[Anastasia]

After perhaps 30 seconds, a doorway rises up from the rubble.

[Nephrite]

Moore tilts his head.

'This isn't what I expected. Be on guard.' He says to the others - he goes forward to open the door, prepared for the worst!

[Anastasia]

Cresiel takes the point as Sylvie hangs back, while Jetina stays by Moore. The door opens and reveals a stairway going down, beneath the rubble and ruin.

[Nephrite]

'An interesting invitation, if nothing else.' Moore says as he proceeds.

[Anastasia]

As you go Jetina adds, 'What lies below here?'

Hell and torment, in some way or another, but not for us. For the Hecatoncheries.

[Nephrite]

'A prison of its own making?' Moore asks. 'Or perhaps the only place it feels safe?'

Regardless, he continues on.

[Anastasia]

Down the stairs. Down and down - you soon hear the sounds of hammers hitting metal.

[Nephrite]

Hm, has it actually managed to make allies?

Or is it just the sounds of others toiling?

Moore continues ahead!

[Anastasia]

Sylvie pauses a moment, "I doubt we're that lucky or it is," she murmurs to herself.

"Hm?" Jetina asks.

"Moore likely wondered if it had made friends or not," Sylvie glances at you, "And no, I doubt it has. Slaves or bound servants, perhaps."

[Nephrite]

"You did way too much reading me with 21." Moore says with a bright smile.

[Anastasia]

"...I thought the same thing as Sylvie," Jetina speaks up here, a fidget. "It is a Moore thing to think."

Cresiel just goes on, not a comment at all.

"See?" Sylvie smiles just a bit.

[Nephrite]

"Good!" Moore says as they proceed. "It means that you all understand my ethos."

[Anastasia]

Give me a Will save, would you?

[Nephrite]

[10:23] <Nephrite> roll 1d20+60+18+18 will, mettle
[10:23] <Rei-chan> Nephrite rolled : 1d20+60+18+18 will, mettle --> [ 1d20=17 ]{113}

[Anastasia]

You step on and in, unaffected. Here is a vast cavern beneath the rubble, the roof nothing but the bottom of the ruins seen above. Here chained demons work away - unable to move save to hammer weapons and armor into shape, into the tools of war. Great balors are restrained here by the hundreds, all devoted to this task. A cavern that stretches most of a mile, full to the brim of forges, heat, weapons and demons.