Andrej's first steps into the dungeon are perhaps the heaviest he's ever taken. Each louder than the next, until he reaches the carpet of moss. Focusing on the dungeon itself feels futile when there's so much noise in his head. Never, never did he think he'd be down here. Never is tenuous, when there are ties to things you can't control. Andrej sighed heavily as he pushed through a curtain of vines, feeling the way they slide soggily across his back. Gross. Moisture hangs so thickly in the air, as if he's breathing through soup. What a musty, soggy, strange place this was.

Getting revenge on the dungeon itself, that's his goal. What does revenge on a place even look like? Conquering it, pillaging, like a member of an invading army. Andrej isn't able to put it into words, but shit, he can't put the grief he carries around his shoulders into words either. None of that matters, as long as he's making himself feel better. Coping is hard, coping with the loss of his youngest sister? That's harder. It's the dungeon that had taken her away from him, and the dungeon he'd exact his vengeance on. Deeper floors had snuffed out her light, and he'll be damned if he lets the crumbling halls keep her.

In order to reach the depths where she rest, he'd need to map the upper floors first. Rip away the secrets and take what he needed from them. Andrej clung to that goal, and that goal alone, as he scanned the dungeon discard. So many untold tales lay within this place, and he'd learn what he could. Learn from their mistakes, and use them to his advantage. Tail set high at his haunches, brushing away clinging cobwebs and dust as he went. A straightforward enough way of marking his trail.

Entering what appeared to be a long forgotten armory, his search is simple. Find anything of use. Though it's mostly tarnished pieces and crumbling leather, there's something glimmering that catches Andrej's eye. Drawing closer to the haphazard stack, there could be something of use within it. Greeted by shiny little beetles, he almost turns away before realizing what they're doing. The little beasties appear to be... fighting each other. Some sort of chitinous fight club. It's a strange sight to behold, but he's unable to shake his gaze from them. Watching as they engage each other in their little slugfest with a wry smile on his lips.

Watching as one is thrown rather violently from the makeshift arena by its opponent, Andrej can't help himself. Scooping up the beetle for a closer look, watching the way its shell shines in the low light of the barely flickering sconces. Peculiar, unlike any bug he's seen on the surface. They are positively encrusted with gemstones, instead of just having the qualities of them. How strange. Wonderfully strange. Without a second thought he slips the beetle in his bag. Ah hell, what's one more? The victor, too, goes into the smaller pouch hung around his neck. Wouldn't want them scuffing each other up further, and potentially devaluing themselves on their way back up.