Into the Pens

-Dalen Capital, Lower Quarter. Night, 2 DSTR-

Kline looked around. “Anyone know enough magic to get around that door? I can only assume it was locked or something worse.”

“Magic is a bit out of my field,” Kalena said. “But Lafayette seems infinitely resourceful, and it so happens we also have a master blacksmith on hand, skilled in enchanting and smithing magic." She gave a nod to Gularzob. “Do either of you think you can get us inside? If not, I suppose I can send a man back to my home and see if Count Soldor is still there. He's quite a capable mage.”

Kline looked at the door then to the remainder of the group. No one seemed to step up, or to take the offer. Time was wasting, and every moment would mean Van’s soul was getting farther away.

“We do not have time.” He said and picked up his blade. “We will just have to see what happens when we break it down.” He turned and walked to the door.

The first kick was met with a ripple of green energy that knocked him back. When he was on his feet he attacked the door again, hitting it with the sword. The blade hacked at the wood, sparking ethereal energy until there was a crack and the door fell open.
Inside the slave pen would be a maze, mundane and ordinary. It was constructed so because if the slave was to break free, getting out would be impossible. Magical wards and traps were put in place to make those who were not keyed to the magic wander, lost, or worse. Kline was looking into the entrance of the place and wondering what his options are.

He looked at Layfaette, Kalena, Gularzob, and the others, “You do not have to go if you do not want to, but I must.” He said and started to walk into the place. He was not about to force any of them to take the risk of what lay inside the Pens.