<div class="floatleft">(https://orig00.deviantart.net/20d7/f/2018/026/e/e/ee2c71cad0c05ebee810023aa6cd7af8-dc17vvo.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Artorius Inglefell<br/><strong>Wearing:</strong>This (https://78.media.tumblr.com/a0481c8f5749ecb925fed2a6be5a978c/tumblr_ou56onXDEz1w169g0o1_1280.jpg)<br/><strong>HP:</strong>120 / 120<br/><strong>Mink HP:</strong>60 / 60<br/><strong>AC:</strong>34 (+2 / Evil)<strong>Touch:</strong>16 (+2 / Evil)<strong>Flat Footed:</strong>31 (+2 / Evil)<strong>CMD:</strong>32 (+2 / Evil)<br/><strong>Resistance:</strong>Acid, Cold, Electricity 5<br/><strong>Fort:</strong>+10 (+2 / Evil)<strong>Ref:</strong>+8 (+2 / Evil)<strong>Will:</strong>+11 (+2 / Evil, Compulsion, Charm, +3 / Fear)<br/><strong>Initiative:</strong>+5<br/><strong>Perception:</strong>+20 (+4 Alertness)<br/><strong>Senses:</strong>Darkvision 60ft, Lifesense 30ft<br/><strong>Spells Remaining:</strong>8 x 1st, 8 x 2nd, 8 x 3rd, 7 x 4th, 5 x 5th<br/><strong>Channel Energy Remaining / Dice:</strong>8 / 6d6<br/><br/><hr/><br/>Arty let out a soft, quiet groan as he regained consciousness, the dark behind his eyelids swimming back into focus, the afterimage of various blasts of radiant light still dancing along the edges of his vision as Mink's coarse, raspy tongue dragged over his cheek and eyes. He knew it was Mink instinctively - thanks to the Familiar's  Empathic Bond, he could always tell roughly where Mink was, and right at that moment, he knew that she was perched on his chest attacking his face in an effort to get him to rouse from whatever stupor he'd been placed in - and rather than being annoyed, he felt a great upswelling of relief. At least<em>she</em>was safe, at least. Of course, that didn't stop the spike of panic from lancing through him as he remembered exactly what had happened; the blast of light, the runes, the sudden flash and then...darkness, and here, wherever "here" was. He had no idea where his friends were, or even if they were safe; this Dungeon had a reputation for dangerous and tricky obstacles, which was why they'd ventured in as a party, but now that they were all separated, who knew what was going to happen? And who knew if the others were even ok? A fresh spike of fear passed through him. What if they were hurt? In danger? His friends did bicker a good deal, sure, but friends often did. If he'd lost them the way he'd lost...<br/><br/>No. No, he had to remain calm. He took a deep breath, and focused on one thing; the only thing stopping him from panicking completely. That was, simply, the fact that<em>he</em>was still alive, which heavily implied that for the moment, so were the others. As far as he could tell, anyway, the spell had largely been a Transportation Spell, potentially with a little bit of Sleep mixed in, without actually causing any lasting damage and the fact that Mink was still here - in the dark, no less, which he could tell was terrifying her - implied that wherever he was, there was no<em>immediate</em>danger. Groaning softly, he heaved himself to his feet, rolling onto his front before pushing himself upwards, slowly stretching his arms and legs from where they'd been bent into awkward angles by - presumably - his fall. Stooping, he scooped up Mink and lifted his arm up, letting her rustle around and slide into her usual place poking her head out of his backpack, then glanced around and moved over to retrieve his polearm, lying ten feet away where he'd dropped it upon falling. He hefted it up in one hand, rotating his shield arm slowly, focusing on the double check of his equipment and possessions rather than the fact that he was now totally, completely alone.<br/><br/>He inhaled slowly through his nose, doing his best to stay calm. Calm. Do what Atlas always said; use his fear as a motivator to get out safely. Never panic, and never let himself get scared into doing something stupid. He'd been in worse positions than this, and if he got out alive, he would be getting<em>such</em>a reward from his friends. Yes. Yes, they were out there, they needed him, and he needed to be stoic and brave for just a little while. Besides, this was a Pacifists Run dungeon; it couldn't be all...<em>that</em>dangerous...right? He let the lie linger in his mind as he registered the distant sounds. They were far away, quiet, but he could hear them easily, coming closer...he was not exactly sure what the sound could be, but looking around, it was pretty obvious that he had no choice but to head towards them. He couldn't stay here and wait, after all, not when his friends were out there and needed help. Heaving a soft, determined sigh, he flexed his wings - stretching them out and testing them for aches and bruises, thankfully finding none - and curled them back up, and began to make his way down the corridor, shield and spear hefted in front of him just in case. He'd go slowly but surely, exercising as much caution as he could. He was alone, and was therefore vulnerable. He couldn't afford to run full-pelt ahead in an unknown dungeon with unknown dangers. That was a sure fire way to get himself killed, or worse.<br/><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">tl;dr</div><div class="spoiler_body">Arty retrieves his stuff, then begins to move down the corridor towards the sound of the water, keeping an eye out for traps, passageways, other creatures, etc etc.</div></div>