A Fateful Encounter (Closed RP)

The Dungeons of Noxus

The underground vistas of Noxus, more appropriately monickered the Dungeons, were not a nice place. Illumination was dim to non-existent in some places; rather than sewers, there were open narrow canals filled with sewage or stagnating water. In the lowest places, the sewage overran the streets, and people had to get by on pieces of wood as makeshift paths to cross them.

Filthy animals abounded in these winding ways, obeying the law of the jungle: kill or be killed. It wasn’t uncommon to find a recently killed animal, be it cat or dog, only to be scooped by by roaming scavengers. Their wastes also littered the streets, and one need only be careless for a second to step on... a surprise. Crime was rampant here- as indeed, the laws of Noxus saw fit only to protect the strong.

Diana would find many, many interested souls as there were apathetic. Gangs of shirtless laborers conversing over some cheap swill, pot bellied cooks preparing Dungeon Bread on an open grill on the streets.

The Avatar of the Moon was approached by scores of Noxian poor and weak, those too cowardly to pursue the Noxian way. Every third shack sold some sort of foodstuffs, homemade brews or second hand tools and weapons, some of them clearly looted from the dead. They plead and plead, asking her to change their lives, rather than build up the strength to change it themselves. They were not looking for a leader, these rabbles- they were looking for hand outs, plain and simple. One drunken man, wearing but a loincloth and carrying a half filled bottle, rambled on about the End of Days to the avatar, completely unaware to whom he spoke to...


But, to find the truly lost, one needed to go deeper, towards the edge of the city- where the underground criss-crossed with the moat for which Noxus is infamous for. Down there, it is said only mutants and monsters lurked; or the truly mad. Mothers scold their packs of children, scaring them with stories of Strigga and Shadowbeasts; of Child eaters and soul snatchers- monsters that preyed on the unwary and drag them screaming and flailing to dark, impenetrable dens... the night filled with howls, and the dark cackling or unmentionable madmen.

"Hey. you're that Moon Lady. whatcha lookin for?" A little urchin came up to Diana said, initially appearing like most other beggars, but the street smart kid knew better than just to ask outright. foreigners had to be worked from a certain angle.

"I can tell you all about this place if you make it worth my while." He stretched out a hand and smirked, his dirty little ragamuffin face dirty under his cap. He definitely seemed to be from around here.

Meanwhile...

Deeper still, in the abandoned places of the Noxian dungeons, the truly hopeless or mad were found. A single small outpost, barely more than a raised platform, was the only prominent feature in this squalor. Two lanterns were quite literally all that was holding back the darkness and filth that was the Moat street.

A single old man, a volunteer watcher, focused on his duty of threats from Moat Street. He was paid to stand there by a small time drug dealer, who preyed on what little the poor and the addicted on Noxus had left. One by one they lined up, seeking that special substance that would make them forget.

And on the streets, many ragged figures simply watched as their fellows spiraled downward into madness, to escape from a world sees them as wretched; a world filled only with hatred, misery and death.

"I sure am hungry. and cold... and... can I touch your sword?" The child said, patting his tummy and shivering. All around were cheap shops that made all these mundane needs were readily available to coin.

The little boy gleefully wolfed down the sandwich, the nature of which was questionable given its price and source. Still, he burped loudly and wiped his mouth on his sleeve.

"Wow moon lady. turns out you're not so bad after all." He gave Diana a hug on the leg, then became much more cooperative. He spoke as he wore his new coat, tacky and worn out as it was. "So... whatcha lookin' for, Moon Lady? A burgular? A big muscly guy? Majeeshuns? Stuff? a place to hide? we got everything down here, stuff that nobody else wants."

The boy looked at Diana with a very curious expression; the Avatar had caught his attention after all.

The urchin boy scratched his head. "Golly, Moon Lady. That's a pretty fancy kinda person yer lookin' for."

He looked around, as if the answer was going to pop out of one of the shanty houses around. No, there was only the barking of a few angry dogs, the laughter of drunkards, and a laundry lady spilling her used detergent water into the canals.

"Seeing that most of the people down here you probably dun' like, maybe you can go near the Moat Street. My Pa says only crazy people or people who ain't got nothin' left go down to Moat Street..."

He pointed down a dark alley, the darkest path leading to the lowest parts of Noxus; this area would have seemed like the edge of the dark city, but only a sharp eyed native like the boy would see a passage where others would see only dead ends. He looked at Diana with a sudden gaze of concern.

"...Butuh, you dun' wanna go there. Pa says there monsters there. But your fancy sword looks like it can beat those monsters. Are you a hero type lady who kills monsters, Moon Lady?"

Meanwhile...

In the vast, perpetual darkness of the Noxian underground, lit only by pinpricks of light like stars of a night sky, a figure huddled on the street watches another day pass by. As it always did.

To the figure's sight, A trio of young Noxian Nobles, with too much money and not enough sense or strength, had made the mistake of asking too many questions. An argument over another trivial, pointless thing- an armored fist met a nose and smashed it, ending the life of yet another Noxian who thought himself exempt from the rule of might.

People gasped. "Killed him..." "He sed

"Are you nuts? No bloodshed down here!"

"Not my fault, he was too soft!"

Demonic howls in the distance silenced

"We're done here. we're leaving."

"No... no! you said you'd give us the Spice!"

A bloodcurdling scream emanated from the watch post. No one had witnessed what happened- except that it simply did. Where the old man once stood, there now only stayed his shadow.

The Shadow Beasts were coming, and an alarm was now sounded, an alarm that stretched all the way to the ears of the Avatar of the Moon.

((WIP))

The soft moonlight parted the gloom gently, though a curtain of concealment remained, as Diana would see very small handfuls of people- or what seemed like people- hide inside the shacks and crawled down into holes to hide. Evil yellow eyes looked at Diana with caution, knowing her to be no easy prey.

With vision limited to a short distance, Diana would come upon the scene near the outpost; strange beasts stalked the people that tried to flee, but fell upon them in a disturbing, silent savagery. A whole person as well as the indescribable beast fell into the ground, vanishing without a trace- leaving only the outline of their shadows on the ground... which slowly stood up and stayed in place. This... shade... was the echo of that unfortunate soul.

A lone figure stayed in the corner, unmoved by the scene. Two fell hounds of shadow and malevolence surrounded her, which meant she was alive and flesh.

...Diana would not have the convenience of seeing the figure for long, as the Shadow Hounds surrounded and flanked her, their very presence slowly eating away at the soft moonlight that emanated from her. Eerie, silent growls and bared fangs declared their savage intent, and the first hound leapt at Diana's feet, intent on making her vulnerable first.

The shadow beast's neck seemed to offer no resistance to Diana's blade, as it unceremoniously fell off and dissipated into shadow... the hound she struck paused only a moment, before its head reformed. Her attack left her open, and another beast moved in, out of her line of sight, this time to bite at her.

The figure too was now beset by the shadow beast, but at the last instant she whipped out a beat up old hexlight lamp, its illumination quite strong. The shadow beast seemed to be stunned by it, its shadowy exterior parted by the light... revealing a skinless canine monster beneath it, eyes bulging out of its sockets as the light blinded it. The figure kicked it aside with force enough to send it hurtling into a piece of exposed rebar. The metal pierced its torso; the creature was not phased out of reality, and thus its fleshy form was made short work of.

The figure rolled away from the other two attackers, knowing that to attack one was to invite the retaliation of the others. Beneath the heavy rags was the missing gladiatrix, Vermilion- her hair in a dishevelled array, the hair near her scalp turning ashen white as her locks were of her namesake. She wore the nightsuit she had when she left the Manor, and She moved and fought with a desperation and tenacity that made her almost the kin of these beasts. And she fought with a mere pick-axe.