Dungeon Campaign 1/?

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The soft clacking of steel wheels being forced to roll under a weighty carriage began to softly squeak as they were forced to slow there speed. This squeak drifted through the open window in cabins all down the length of the train. The squeaks along with a gradual loss of momentum within was just enough to bring most within to a rise.
The sunlight drifting through the window warmed the cabin nicely and had just begun to settle upon the lone form within. A cascade of this warm intangible mass landed upon the horizontal form. His Cleric robes set aside in favor of a much more relaxed and climate-appropriate light tee and breathable trousers. The form being of a human male either at the edge of or just past his prime. Though his face would be the only telling feature of such knowledge.
The man, who couldn’t be past his mid-late forties, still had a body fit for the life of a soldier, perhaps he had once been one. His oak bark toned skin, while not free of blemishes or scars remains smooth, and holds a light sheen from the warmer climate. A well kept salt-and-pepper beard frames a sharply square jaw. With a matching salt and pepper hairline neatly pulled back to a ponytail behind his head. A scar from a long since healed wound ran down the length of the man’s left arm
Down at the base of the bed the man was resting upon, just out of reach of the sunlights direct force, a set of neatly folded delicately crafted robes. The garment’s deep blue and gold threaded pattern looked to almost slither across it as a stray strand of light glances off of the design. Resting atop the robe, was a slightly yellowed parchment letter. The paper had a light coffee, possibly tea ring in the corner and the words “Signey Warfleet” in a very practiced hand.
Outside the train the tracks ahead enter slowly growing hole nestled in the base of a lone mountain amongst seemingly endless kilometers of farm and prairies.
Just as the train enters the mountain and the sunlight is banished from the cabin, a moment of pitch darkness permeates everything. Only the sound of the the wheels clacking ringing out within and throughout.
Moments seem to slow to forever, without warning a small wisp of blue green flame shoots into the room and dances about. His eyes burst open in sudden confused fright, the shape of the wisp calmly swinging to and fro brought the man down from his sudden adrenaline high.
“Wow… Scared of a little wisp are you now Signey?” Sitting up, a stray breeze pulls through the window. This wind carried with it a comforting mix of hearty dwarven earthy craftsmanship and, fresh baked confectionaries? The later confused Signey slightly but he quickly came to the conclution a bakery was now in the vacinity of the pulling his long black and white hair into a pony-tail behind him Sitting up and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. He ran the palms of his hands over the whole of his face. The room returned to a mostly silent state. A rapid but quiet few taps rapped on the door, bringing the gentleman to his feet.
“Lord Warfleet?” the voice muffled by the door and the rattling carriage. being easily within reach he grabbed the handle and slid the door open just enough to see the person on the other side.
“Yes?” a yawn beginning as he spoke.
The person beyond the threshold looked distinctly elven with his eyes a majestic blue, ears poking past the edge of the back of his head and long blond hair, partially braided partially pulled into a long pony tail behind him, cascading down a shoulder clad in a deep rouge suit. Signey did a quick glance up and down his person, recognizing the suit as that of one of the trains stewards.
“Lord Warfleet, I was sent to inform you we will be arriving at the Glave-ore station in a few moments.”
“Thank you.” he kept the door open a few seconds after the steward walked on to the next cabin. The gentleman known as Signey Warfleet stretched and began gathering the items at his feet.
Being neatly kept in the first place made packing it easier. Everything fit right into his backpack and simple cinch pack. The train began to lose momentum faster as he stepped out of the room. The same dancing wisps hovered over the few people also leaving their cabins, a dwarven family without a single bag in hand but very fine clothes on, a pair of lovers who couldn’t keep from kissing even as they prepared to depart from the train and a lone half orc woman with a huge shield on her back covering an only slightly smaller grey-blue bag.
Grabbing a brass rod bolted to the ceiling of the car, Signey followed the line of others with his own bag in hand. The same Steward from before stood at the end of the car near the door, ready to open it as the train slowed further.
A low drawn out his and one final clack of the wheel on the track signified the end of the trains current journey. The steward, with the most blasé face raised his arm with a small sparking trail as the door opened beside him, the children from the family let out some OOhs and Aahs, making the steward smirk, not often he got to impress someone with his little tricks.
The scent of fresh baked goods wafted past Signey, getting closer to the door the smell just got stronger, hints of cinnamon and caramel within. With the smell the low murmur of the city got more prevalent. Signey looked out the window and took in the majesty of Glave-ore ‘the jewel of the mountain’. The city Spread out below him, then catching a glimpse of movement from the cavern ceiling, he looked up and was amazed to see upside-down buildings and homes hanging, strange rails and hanging walkways spreading and connecting everything, between massive load bearing pillars and an absolutely massive Clocktower hanging near the dead center of the ceiling. the entirety of the village lit by the massive hole in the westmost wall of the mountain where sunlight streamed in. barely visible from where he stood some cloud clusters, a storm was beginning to brew out west.
“Ahem.” the sound broke through Signey’s Shock-and-awe a little too abruptly, causing Signey to jump. Catching himself, Signey turned to the steward who looked slightly more depressed than the facade he had up a mere moment prior. the line of people were gone just leaving Signey and the Steward.
“Oh. ‘heh’ Sorry i've just never seen such an interesting city before.” he quickly moved out the door into the slightly chilled city air, surrounded by the overpowering smell of pastries. The door closed behind Signey silently.
Signey was born and raised on the coast, within a humdrum little town, containing no more to its name than a dock and a shipping warehouse. A magically adept and ingrained city like this was never in his most wild imagination or it wouldn't have been had he not been fated for more.

Signey Pulled the note and looked up to the sprawling realm before him. Gingerly, Signey pulls the intricate glittery blue wax seal from the front of the letter, unfolding the letter revealing an equally studied handwriting as the back was addressed.
The writing was compact and small, bringing Signey to squint at the tiny script. He spent a moment on the platform, just reading the letter. The buzz and bustle of the platform placed undue distraction, looking up frustrated Signey folded the paper up and stuffed it into his bag. Having spent many years alone in bars and taverns, his feet instinctively began to move toward the center of the city only the promise of a place to read guiding him.
Moving off the platform to a wide set of stairs that stretched from the lower city all the way up to the hanging network of tracks and walkways high above. Signey bounded down the stairs to the lower city. The stairs themselves looked like an immaculately cut and polished marble, suspended around a similar marble slab cut into a perfect rectangle, the only difference was the ethereal orange light that shone through the brighter spots in the stone. The light seeming to randomly dim in places and brighten in others with no discernible pattern, or one that Signey wasn’t concerned about paying attention to at present moments.
Most of the journey down was in near total solitude save for a person or two passing in the opposite direction or just standing at the edge looking over the railing silently staring at the city. The stairs rounded close to a few hundred flights just to the lower city, but Signey kept moving down them without breaking his stride or beginning to huff from exception.
The base of the stairs sat within a marble building, seeming to keep with the theme the builders had envisioned. Signey almost marched down the streets passing homes and small offices before passing under a simple little sign, hanging from a massive building, a building whose only immediate neighbors were the roads on either side. the building took up a the same space that several buildings would in one block.
The sign was of a strangely proportioned pegasus leaping into the air, wings spread wide and trailing magical sparkles . the sparkles perpetually falling from the sign hadn't been the only time Signey had seen that minor enchantment used but he chuckled as it was the most entertaining. On the window on the far corner of the building written in several languages, most notable of which being Common orcish dwarven and elven, The Shiney Pegasus: Tavern and guild hall. scents of barbeque and ale waft through some windows and through the door beside the window the sounds of glasses toasting and laughter carry to signey’s ears. He found his new favorite locan in the foreign city.