Aicelia nods, after having listened to the reports from the others.  Longsword still clutched in hand, she stands near the head of the group as they quietly, or as quietly as they could, headed for the dungeon entrance.<br/><br/>"Dungeon Cleaning. I like that for this roughshod group. We're the Dungeon Cleaners! Where's a bard when we need one." she murmured under her breath.