Log in

clack...

...clack...

...clack...

Nate intentionally sounded his every third step. The echo of a hard heel bounced along the halls. It was comforting...dungeons...stonework...the dark. He wielded no light as he strode throw the depths.

Something called him; instinct perhaps? Nate followed his intuition. Getting more intimate with the grounds would serve him well. It always had.

Clad in his suit, he did not suit the profile of a dungeon crawler. The three piece fit him well, but still made him look otherworldry. Akin to watching a samurai strolling through a county fair in Texas.

The distinct aroma of iron floated of Mister Ardenson like a cologne.

Every step, every scent, every sensation was commited to the young man's mind.

The corridor was of fair distance and width. Nate was certain that the tunnel would serve his purpose.

He inspected the walls and took a few dust samples. If he was right, then this would be an ideal area for him.

"I'm holding out for a hero until the end of the night...", Nate's cell phone chirped. Suprising the gaurdian former. His right eyebrow raised. He wasn't expecting the sound or a call. "He's gotta be strong, and he's gotta be fast, and he's gotta be fresh fron the fight...", the phone continued to sing as he put away his samples and drew the device out from his pocket with his left hand. "I need a hero", the phone finished as he pulled the device to his ear.

"I see you've been playing with my phone again", nate answered the caller. Still his ever so serious voice. he did allow some hints of pleasant suprise to slip through. As he answered he made sure to ssurvey the tunnel his right hand ready at waist level. "I do think the song has more appropriate lyrics than your last ringtone. I think it's more of a role reversal though", he explained to the phone. "I'm working in a sense. It seems quiet around you...no gigs tonight", he inquired. "I am planning a vacation...yes, you're factored in. I am a critical thinker, not a heartless monster. I will call you with details on wednesday. I don't need to promise, I always do what I say. Take care...", he bantered with the voice on the other side. He paused and took a breath, "I'm fine, it was a single werewolf attacking an old friend and a fellow Alumni. No I'm not chasing europeon women, werewolf is not my slang for a french prostitute. I will call you wednesday."

The young man hung up his phone. She would be upset, though she knew that he did things his way and he rarely, if ever broke his cardinal rules. She on the otherhand completely disregarded them. Thus he gave up on the phone battle. When they were together, she often messed around and meddled with his things.

Ah say la vi, he thought. Though it was impressive that his phone got reception down here. The young man pulled out a bag of iron powder and sprinkled it about his route within the corridors as he explored just a little more.