Phelypsis's cheerful voice echoes through the halls of the throne-room clearly one of the first sounds to have been present there in a long time.  When she wraps her arms around Sydney, the goo on her and the absolutely massive amounts of cum on Sydney squeeze and splurt between their bodies, leaving Sydney perhaps a tiny bit cleaner and Phelypsis's front covered with sticky seed.  Hopefully they wouldn't need to look fancy anytime soon.<br/><br/>Lorelei was definitely nowhere to be seen initially, though Phelypsis feels a tickle at the back of her neck as though she has missed something.  That's alright, brave, courageous, cool, respectable Andra warrior time has come.  She leads ahead with her weapon out, the faint sounds of moans combining in with the croaking of frogs.  Phelypsis is first down the hallway, the ground sloping downward slightly before becoming stairs.  So it is that Phelypsis is first down and the first to see things.<br/><br/>Down immediately below the throneroom of this apparent ruined keep is a prison.  The cells are all closed, locked tightly even all these years later.  In the first couple of cells that Phelypsis can see into, there are skeletons manacled to the walls.  But further down, just a couple of steps further, there is a cell from which the sounds of pain are coming.<br/><br/>Phelypsis comes before this cell, stopping for a moment as she notices something on the ground.  A pair of manacles, bright silver, untarnished despite being down in this swampy, wet dungeon for so long.  They seem to call to her, beg to her.<br/><br/><strong>Phelypsis, make a Defy Danger using Wisdom to avoid grabbing the manacles and stuffing them into your bag before your teammates get down to you.</strong><br/><br/>Her eyes then draw up to the man in the cell.  He appears human, perhaps half something judging by the greyish color of his skin.  His hand is manacled above his head as he lays on the ground, signs of dirt and blood around his wrist from where he has struggled.  It is clear he has been here a long time, a thick beard on his face and his hair badly tangled.  What is odd is that he seems otherwise healthy, shirtless his stomach is defined with muscle but not sunken or gaunt, his arms show strength even as they hang loosely.  He looks up to Phelypsis, his eyes bright blue, desperate as he calls out, "What dream do you taunt me with now, mind-flayer? I am broken. Why must this continue?"