Jare took a calming breath as he released the fists he was making, "From what I understood, that stronghold was operated by the so-called 'sympathetic' branch of the empire. They wanted to 'purify the taint' that made beast-men non-human. You are right though Anhel; no matter how human our normal face looks, beast-men are not human. We can't even mate with a human, but we can mate with our respective animals."
"It's ironic then," Jare commented, "That the experiments designed to create humans actually unleashed the were plague. Instead of unleashing what they thought was human, they instead unleashed a horrible beast that spread its curse to everything it attacked."
Were was a term referencing a magical condition where a human, elf, dwarf, etc. morphed into a state similar to a beasted-out beast-man. The difference, however, was that these cursed beings lost their sanity and spread the curse through bites. Only beast-men were immune to the curse; subsequently all beast-men adventurers were tasked to hunt down all weres.
"35 years now, and the curse still persists. Not that the empire is any help," Jare reflected, "Their enslavement of weres and use of them on the front-line makes them a formidable threat. Any and all opponents become fodder for the horde."
Anhel stood up and brushed off his fur, "Let's stop talking about this and continue our journey big brother. I think I'm okay to travel in the dark now."
"Stairs," William called out from the tunnel. Jare and Anhel walked out and joined William at the top of the staircase.
Jare scratched his hair, "Well, at least our merry chase let us get down quickly. Lets see what the boss floor has in store for us."
"Not what I was expecting at all," Jare said flatly.
The trio stood in front of a large door with three symbols on it's surface. Jare glanced over at Anhel, who was reading an inscription.
"What's it say Anhel?" he asked.
"We just need to light three torches in the three rooms on this floor and the door will open." Anhel reported.
Jare turned around and pointed, "You mean those three torches located conveniently behind us?"
"I think so."
"This is easy."
"No . . . maybe boredom?"
Claire slapped Doc's slime body, making him jiggle, "Doc, what in the nine hells are you doing making it so obvious? Hide the torches and dungeon up!"
"But I want the fight to happen already," Doc whined pitifully.
Claire raised a reed from one of the plants she had grown.
"Okay, okay, I won't do it again."
"DON'T DO IT NOW! CHANGE IT!" Claire shrieked at him in anger.
Doc shrugged, "They're there already, won't that be as subtle as a sword in the gut if I just change it now?"
"Doc," Claire said warningly.
"Big bro, actually now that I look at the torches, they seem to be fakes; I believe the're replicas of some kind to give us an idea on what to look for."
"Sounds believable little brother."
A small wind moved through the room, like a sigh of relief.
"Well, we'd better go light those torches. Split up?"
William shrugged, "No enemies, split okay."
"Alright then," Jare nodded, "Let's meet back here after we light the torches."
I'm tired. Here's some lore and humor. I don't feel like writing an epic battle scene this late, so expect it tomorrow. Nighty night