Len is the arcane magic hero in my fantasy stories, like a wizard, sorceress, or bard.
The room had a domed ceiling of twelve arches. The thick transparent glass floor was the face of a giant six-handed clock, ticking ever so quietly. In the center of the magically lit chamber was a being of metal and feminine shape. It rose from a cross-legged sitting position, and drew sword and shield.
The plan was simple: sneak aboard Captain Kem’s airship where she is keeping the philosopher’s stone, steal it from the cargo hold, blast a way out of the ship’s hull with alchemist’s bombs, and parachute back safely to the ground. Naturally, things never go according to plan.
“Remember, we need to reach the bottom of the underground lake,” Len told her companions. “I need to put the catalyst there: it’s the only way it will restore everyone’s water supply, and have us be rid of the acid.” Asoka nodded and led them on into the tunnels, carrying a torch. Bosu, Lohuan and Fabia followed behind with Len, who would periodically prod at puddles on the ground with the butt of her spear. The cavern walls were wet, and in some places slick with a film of slime. It was not long into their descent into the darkness that their progress was paused by a pool of water that reeked with a sour, biting stench.