Time when man lived among dragons and monsters of the sort, there was a kingdom ruled by four sisters. The Flower Empresses of Eldendower. The Empress sisters ruled in harmony until one day, one of the eldest sisters failed suitors, the Crow Prince, struck the kingdom and breached their walls in an aviary assault.
The Prince of Crows descended from the skies, capturing three of the Empresses, Rose, Hyacinth, and Jasmine. All three sisters were taken from their kingdom and sealed away deep in the heart of his dungeon.
Violet, the remaining Empress, stares at the mouth of the dungeon. Apprehension washes over her as the wind sinks deep into her bones. Since her sisters had been taken from her, she felt a sick feeling of emptiness and longing. Her sisters were alive and she was going to get them back. No matter the cost.
Violet walks into the cave mouth and down the heavily trafficked dungeon path. She follows the worn walk way, evident that many have passed the gates of the dunegon. Fewer numbers returned.
The Empress's long deep purple hair is drawn back in a high pony tail to be kept out of her face. It trailes down midway, brushing against the silk on her back. She is calm and vigilant as she descends the path.
The Violet Empress conceals her beauty with the deep hood of her royal blue cloak. She strays from the foot traffic of common dungeon parties, parting ways behind a stalagmite pillar and deeper into the cavern. The air within moments becomes heavier, denser, warmer. Humidity made the narrow caverns rank with sweat and pollution.
Her Highness covers her noes with the sleeve of her cloak, tears wetting her eyes. The funk of goblins. It was a shortcut to the mines below. The positive was saving days of travel, the negative was... the chance of goblins.
Most everyone knew to avoid this shortcut once it had become overun by low level goblins, imps, and gnolls. The Empress's naivety towards the severity of the overrun shortcut was nothing short of immense- due only to her lack of experience in traversing the dungeon in person, rather than the maps she poured over back within the safety of her citadel walls.
The naive Empress trudges on through the dense putrid fog, feeling the way with her free hand, running her fingers along the wall as best she could. Her eyes well as tears fall, trying to protect her vision. The cool touch of the stone at her finger tips keep her grounded.
The indiscriminate shrieks and shrills around the corner set off alarms in the Violet Empress's mind. She imagines the goblins slaying those brave enough to cross paths with them. Their hyena like cackles and rabid moans licking at her ear canals. They make her sick with fear that she would be the next victim to be slain. Her journey would be pointless, dead before she saw her sisters again. It made her shake with anger and sorrow.
The Empress cast those feelings of self doubt, anxiety, and fear aside. She could conquer this dungeon. She would see her sisters again. And she would be a hero to her kingdom.
As Her Highness turns the corner, she is not met with the sight of blood or gore. No spilled guts, nor deadly swings of weapons. She is met with something far more disturbing. Something she had never considered possible.