The Savage Caves - Chapter 9
Lidda sat next to Naull, running her small hand through the woman’s hair and watching her with concern as she spoke to the others. “Shouldn’t she have woken up by now?” The halfling woman didn’t know much about magic but the potion should’ve healed the girl. But still she lay unconscious.
Why wasn’t she waking up?
Jozan looked over, having donned his scale mail armor and now kept his mace out, just in case. He looked down at Naull and Lidda swore he was looking at the girl with deep uncertainty. It felt like the same look he’d given her while she was standing at the gallows. It felt like judgement. That rubbed her the wrong way and she caught his eyes as he spoke.
“Healing magic can take time. I’m sure Naull is physically fine.” There was something in his voice that felt as if he had more to say. She raised an eyebrow but he ignored it, turning to Regdar and changing the subject.
“Bugbears. Have you encountered them before?” The priest asked.
Regdar looked tired but had been busy searching the perimeter for signs of other enemies. He turned to Jozan and nodded grimly. “I’ve had a few run-ins, yeah. Lidda has as well, I’m guessing.” He looked over at her and she nodded. She thankfully hadn’t had many encounters with the big, smelly creatures but each time she did had been a struggle - they were so strong. As the taller warrior regarded her, she felt a little more at ease. Where Jozan’s gaze felt judgemental, Regdar’s felt like concern. The big man laid his long blade over an armored shoulder and continued to scan the dark forest, lit again by the renewed firelight, as he spoke. “We were lucky. Those things are strong bastards, and you saw the damage they can do.”
“And suffer before falling,” Jozan added. He looked over to where the dead bugbear lay - its body had been too heavy to easily move and Regdar had told them to leave it for now. They’d roll it down the hill to join the other before they broke camp. And when Naull woke up.
Or we can just leave it, Lidda thought. Who gives a damn about a dead bugbear - I hope a wolf comes and chews his damned nose off.
Jozan’s eyes kept falling to the unconscious wizard and Lidda decided to test the waters. “Naull was a big part of that luck,” she said as she stood, still looking at the girl. The halfling turned to Jozan. “Whatever she did saved us.”
He said nothing, though his body seemed to tense. Lidda had spent years getting very good at reading people’s body language - that didn’t tend to be as easily hidden behind useless words or nice smiles.
Regdar exchanged a look with Lidda, confusion on his face.
“Okay Jozan, what’s going on?” Lidda asked, her tone sharper than she’d intended. She was upset - they’d been attacked. They could’ve died. The girl saved them, how could Jozan not see that? Lidda let Naull be, pulling away from her as she kept her eyes on Jozan.
She stood with her hands on her hips, staring up at the taller priest with a look of frustration. He said nothing, just looked down at Naull and shook his head slightly.
“Jozan,” Regdar asked, “are you alright?”
The sound of Naull stirring drew their attention and Lidda moved to her, shifting her sword away from the girl and giving her a faint smile as the unconscious wizard’s eyes fluttered open.
“O-oh,” she said and immediately grabbed the side of her head. “Oh, I have such a headache.” She rubbed her temples and blinked several times. Lidda threw her arms around the woman’s shoulders and squeezed tight. Naull seemed surprised and though Lidda didn’t see it, so were Jozan and Regdar.
Naull chuckled. “I’m okay, Lidda.”
“You saved us, Naull.” She pulled away and looked into the woman’s bright green eyes. She turned to Regdar. “Didn’t she?”
He nodded. “I’m not sure what you did but whatever it was gave us a leg up. Those bugbears are nasty bastards.” The warrior walked over to stand beside Lidda. Only Jozan stood apart from the group.
“It was a simple enough spell,” Naull started but Jozan’s words cut her off.
“Necromancy. It was necromancy.” His tone was dark and his eyes narrowed as he spoke.
Lidda’s eyes went wide and she looked at Naull, confused. “Necromancy?”
“The Black Arts,” Jozan continued. “Dangerous, foul magics meant to tear the essence from the living and pervert nature by imbuing the dead with false life. Evil magic.” His words were sharp and Lida could tell he was angry by how he clenched his free fist. His knuckles were white in the firelight and there was pain behind his gaze.
Naull shook her head and laughed, almost dismissively Lidda thought.
She stood, brushing off her traveling clothes and looking at Jozan.
“A common misconception, Jozan. No magic is evil,” she said, smiling at him. But the priest didn’t return the smile. His face was set in an intense frown and he gripped the mace tight. Lidda took a step back from Naull.
“I’m not sure that’s right,” she said in response to Naull’s comment.
The wizard turned to her, still smiling, and nodded as she explained. “Magic is like the wind, or rain. It is natural, in all forms - water, sleet, ice or fog. Something that is natural is outside of morality, outside of concepts such as good and evil.” Lidda felt like the younger woman was teaching a lecture but she held her tongue and just listened. “Necromancy is the manipulation of life and yes, it can be used to give false life to the dead but it can also be used to empower the living and protect.”
“Evil magic cannot be used for good, Naull,” Jozan interjected. “It perverts all intentions towards wickedness.” The conviction in Jozan’s voice was apparent, though he’d stopped gripping his weapon tightly and his hand had unclenched. Lidda could still see his worry, like a great blanket covering him.
Naull shook her head again, a small amount of frustration creeping into her otherwise even tone. She pursed her lips as she spoke, like it was annoying her to have to explain something several times to the priest. “I told you, there is no good or evil magic, Jozan.” She continued, taking a step forward towards him. He didn’t back away but Lidda wasn’t sure he wouldn’t surge forward and hit Naull with his weapon. “Only intention matters. If I use my spells to protect those that I care about, that is by its nature good.”
“Not if the spell is wicked. You drained the strength from those creatures.”
“To weaken them, yes.” She answered back, crossing her arms.
“If she hadn’t, I don’t know that we would have defeated them.” Lidda added. “Is that bad?”
“I don’t know,” Jozan said but his demeanor didn’t soften. “I know the teachings of Pelor and the laws of the land - both of which outlaw and decry the use of such powers. Necromancy is a forbidden magic. And for good reason.” These last words he said with a dark tone.
Naull cut in. “That’s because of ignorance.” She leveled him with a serious stare. “I understand my abilities and the spells I have learned. I have spent fifteen years learning about such things and had an excellent teacher in Larktiss.” As she raised her eyebrows, the halfling thought it looked like she was challenging Jozan. “What knowledge of Necromancy do you have, Jozan, that isn’t rooted in fear or misunderstanding?”
Lidda bristled at that. She reached out to put a hand on Naull. This was quickly spiraling out of control.
“No,” Naull said, pulling away. “I want to know.” Now her voice was harsh sounding.
“I do not practice such, nor do I know the art of Necromancy. It is forbidden. Even if it were not, justly so, I would wish no understanding of such things - such perversions. Dark powers corrupt, regardless of intention. This Pelor teaches.”
“And Wee Jas teaches us that power is a tool, wielded at our discretion. I saw you and Regdar in danger. Would you have preferred I do nothing?” Naull quipped back.
“Obviously not,” Lidda chimed in, putting herself between the two people. She held her hands up. “Look. Naull saved us - Jozan, that’s what happened and you know it. How she did it doesn’t matter.” Lidda looked to Regdar for support but he seemed concerned as well, staring over at Naull and then back to Jozan.
“If it would make you more comfortable, Jozan,” Naull said, moving closer to him and nodding, “I’ll leave. I don’t want to cause any issues, more than it seems I already have. But I’m not going to let someone else’s beliefs in my magic stop me from using it.” She sounded hurt, Lidda thought, and the young mage continued. “But I can tell you - whatever you’re up against here isn’t just goblins and spiders. Those creatures,” she said but Lidda jumped in.
“Bugbears. They were bugbears.”
“Bugbears, thank you Lidda.” She smiled down at the halfling woman and then turned to face Jozan again. “Must be up to something. I don’t think you can manage this without me. But if you don’t trust me or my methods - or my magic - then I’ll take my things and I will leave.” She shook her head. “Not out of petulance, please understand that. I hope you don’t want me to leave but I will respect whatever you decide. You seem to be leading this.”
Lidda raised an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t say he’s leading us,” and she shot the priest a look. “We’re more of a democratic group. Everyone makes the decisions, isn’t that right Regdar?” She looked at the warrior and he nodded.
“That’s how I see it.” His gruff voice split the silence between them.
Jozan said nothing for a long time, just looking at Naull standing right in front of him. She seemed to be waiting for a response and as the quiet stretched, Naull’s face dropped more and more. Lidda huffed, looking up between the two taller humans.
“What, Jozan? What are you even thinking? You can’t send Naull away - we need her! You wanted to help the people of Fairbye, even though they’re a bunch of murderous racists - who hang halflings on sight, I might add - and she wants to help. Her magic isn’t your magic, okay, whatever.” She shook her head. “Regdar’s sword is nearly three times my height and you don't see me complaining about him using that.”
Jozan shook his head. “These are not the same, Lidda.”
“Yes, I don’t think that’s an equal comparison.” Naull added but Lidda shook her head.
“It is! Naull isn’t evil, Jozan. If she was, why would she have put her life at risk to help us? She could’ve just run away from the bugbears.”
Regdar nodded. “She’s right, Jozan. She could’ve just left.”
The priest looked down to Lidda, then to Regdar and finally Naull. The halfling thought his eyes looked misty in the dim lighting but she couldn’t be sure. He took a deep breath and his shoulders sank a bit. He looked defeated, she thought, and though she knew he’d healed his wound from the fight the man was clearly exhausted.
“This situation is far more complex than I think any of us realize,” Jozan said. “Naull,” he reached out over Lidda’s head and touched Naull with his hand. His eyes were kind and his tone became the measured, relaxed voice that Lidda expected. “I’m sorry. Regardless of your methods or magic, you agreed to help us. Help Fairbye. I am grateful for this. Pelor, I believe, would not have set me upon a path that crossed yours for no reason.”
The younger mage nodded. Lidda wasn’t sure where this was going but at least they weren’t glaring daggers at each other any longer. She was glad for that. She smiled. “Good!”
Patting both of their legs, Lidda moved from underneath the two humans and moved to stand near the fire. “All friends again, yeah?”
Naull chuckled. She nodded to Jozan. “Friends.”
The smile Jozan gave her seemed less genuine, Lidda noted, but he did seem to relax more. The last thing they needed, mused Lidda, was their two magic users going at each other. That didn’t help anyone. The camp seemed to quiet for a bit; Jozan checked Naull for any lingering injuries but found none. Naull collected her things and took out an old book, looking over whatever it was by the firelight. Regdar didn’t return to the camp for a while, instead taking a walk around the area and pushing the dead body of the bugbear she’d killed down the hill. Lidda offered to help but Regdar refused.
Lidda was very happy that he did, too. She didn’t want to push a dead body down the hill, though she had no issues looking through its pockets and the pockets of the other bugbear. She stood on the bugbear’s body, trying not to look at its broken neck and black tongue hanging from its mouth. The creature’s dead eyes stared out at her as she rummaged around, finding a small pouch tucked away in its lice infested clothing. The halfling discarded it, annoyed - nothing valuable. The other bugbear was much the same, though it had shoved a small silver ring onto its fat finger and, with some clever knife work, Lidda was able to walk away with it.
The other bugbear had nothing she wanted. At least there was the ring.
She had a good eye for these things but grim and matted filth made it difficult to guess how much it might be worth. It had a small seal on it, though; a swirl inside an open square, It didn’t look like a signet ring but Lidda couldn’t place the mark; a little box of flowers with a squiggle in it was really all she could make out. She shrugged, pouring some of Jozan’s waterskin over it - she’d borrowed it - and pocketed the ring. Placing Jozan’s waterskin back where she’d found it, she moved to stand near Regdar.
The warrior gave her a glance, looking winded from his hard work, and she leaned against his leg as he stared out into the night.
“Deep thinking, big guy?” She asked.
He snorted. “Wondering where those bugbears came from. Wondering how many bugbears there are - they don’t just wander from what I remember. They group up, like families. Maybe from the Marsh to the east?” He shook his head. “I don’t know.”
“Not a reunion I’d want to attend,” she quipped and Regdar chuckled. After a bit, she looked up at him and spoke more quietly. She could see Naull had packed her book up and wrapped herself in Regdar’s bedroll once more. Jozan had laid down as well.
“What was that about?” She said, gesturing to the sleeping two.
“I have no idea,” the gruff voiced man said. He looked over and seemed to linger on Naull for a long time. She shrugged. “I don’t guess at magic. I know what I’ve heard about wizards and I can’t say anyone has ever said something nice about necromancers.”
“Naull’s not a necromancer,” Lidda said.
“Maybe not. Maybe she is. All I know is that if we want to get through whatever we’ve thrown ourselves into, we need to trust each other.” He looked down and placed his big hand on her head. Lidda shifted out from under the weight with a grunt.
“Hey!”
“All of us need to trust Lidda. Yeah?” The look he gave he was gentle.
“Yeah, yeah. I trust you, Redmore.” She flashed him a smile and he shook his head. She looked out with him and a sound drew their attention. Regdar was on the move, quickly moving onto the side of the hill as Lidda quietly called after him. She moved over rocks and a fallen tree overgrown with mushrooms and moss, reaching his side easily enough. He’d gone maybe fifty feet and looked out over a drop in the hill, the moons spilling its pale blue-grey light over an area more sparsely covered in trees.
“What is it?” She asked. Her shortsword was in her hand and she hoped the answer wasn’t more bugbears.
“Not bugbears. Or goblins.” He replied, concern sounding in his voice as he shifted his weapon down but didn’t move forward.
“Oh, that’s good.” She let a heavy breath out.
The warrior shook his head. “It isn’t.” He pointed to the space he was looking at.
She craned to see better, stepping on a moss covered stone that was flat enough for her to stand atop without falling. Lidda let her eyes focus on the low-lighting before them and her eyes widened. A dozen of the massive spiders were shifting forward, scuttling into holes in the ground and carrying softly bleating cocoons of spider silk. Lidda cursed.
“Are we going to follow them?”
“Spiders wrap their prey in webs to eat later.” Regdar said, lowering his voice a bit more. He pointed. Lidda could see them dragging the bundles towards the holes and squeezing them through. The spiders dropped into them and disappeared with their meals. “Following them is only going to get us killed. Better to find another way - Jozan and I aren’t squeezing through those holes.” He patted the armor he wore. “A tighter fit than I think I’d like.”
Lidda nodded in agreement.
The last of the spiders disappeared into their holes and Regdar stood, motioning for Lidda to follow him. They returned to the camp and he put a hand on her small shoulder.
“Get some rest. I’ll wake Jozan in a few hours, and get him to take the next watch.”
The halfling woman looked back to where they’d come from and a thought bubbled up into her mind. The image of her, sleeping in her bedroll, and a giant spider popping up from the ground to snatch her up. She shuddered.
“No. I think I’ll stay up with you. I don’t think I’d sleep very well anyway.”
The morning saw Jozan rising early as the dawn broke the horizon. He drew in a deep breath, closing his eyes and feeling the warmth of Pelor’s sun fall over his face as he kneeled. Soreness from the riding made his thighs protest but he pushed the discomfort away. He opened his prayer book while Naull slept; the soft rise and fall of her chest drew his gaze. Regdar and Lidda were packing their things, the quiet conversation about last evening’s battle lost in the priest’s thoughts. Jozan’s sleep had been troubled - dreams of Calmet, his former mentor, and the sounds of screaming filled his mind as he slept, tossing throughout the rest of the night. He’d woken exhausted, not refreshed as he needed. Even the light of the sun, always a balm for his spiritual difficulties, did nothing to quiet the fears in him.
Naull was a potent mage; that was clear to him. And she was not a follower of Pelor. It was not his place to direct her if she did not wish it but the casual use of a magic so often outlawed struck him hard. Jozan couldn’t tell if it was ignorance or just pride - he had certainly seen many young people act foolishly because of their sense of confidence, including himself. The priest traced the words in his prayer book, looking up into the morning sky and seeking answers there. Rays of sun dappled the ground underneath the tree canopy, scattering the darkness.
“Pelor, guide my thoughts. Show me the truth, of myself and those I make covenants with.” He bowed his head, breathing slowly and steadily.
“Talking to someone?” The young wizard’s voice seemed so loud in the silence of the morning.
Jozan started, looking at Naull as she rose. Her sleepy eyes were heavy and she rubbed them with the backs of her hands. Though her wound was gone, the woman’s face seemed heavy with thought. Jozan smiled at her; she looked oddly innocent to his eyes now, in the light of the morning.
“Pelor. I pray for guidance and strength, each morning, when my connection to Him is strongest.” He gestured to the sunlight streaming through the tree coverage around them.
She stood and, kneeling next to the priest, placed a hand on him. It was warm and comforting, like the sun that cast about on his face. Naull smiled.
“Jozan, I’m sorry. Not for what I did or what magic I call to myself - I will never apologize for the gift that I have.” He furrowed his brow and she shook her head. “I-I am sorry for the differences we have; understandings, beliefs. For what I said to you - it was unkind.”
He shook his head. “You are not a servant of Pelor, Naull.” She nodded and he continued. “Your path is your own and I am certain you walk it confidently.”
“Some might say too much,” she chuckled.
He nodded to that and she laughed aloud, drawing the eyes of Regdar and Lidda. Jozan searched her face and smiled.
“Perhaps.” He chuckled but his tone then took a slightly darker edge as he continued. “Necromancy is a dangerous art and I will not be convinced otherwise, Naull. I have seen such magic corrupt and twist the kind-hearted, the good, into wickedness that I cannot begin to describe. It is dangerous. But must I chastise you for your use of it? No. I trust that you believe you are controlling these powers. I am willing to trust you.”
“And I am willing to trust you, even if our understanding of necromancy is different.” She replied.
“Colored by our experiences with it. Have you seen the effects such things can create; what magic like that can do to someone?” Naull shook her head and he sighed. “I hope that you do not. You’re a clever girl, Naull. I am certain whatever Master you served during your apprenticeship was wise indeed. And very patient.” He smiled again. She returned it.
“Gods. More patient than I deserved, I think.” She laughed. “What about an agreement?” Naull suggested. Jozan motioned for her to continue. “Once this business with Fairbye is finished, may I accompany you and Regdar to New Koratia? There’s a library there, with treatises on many subjects and mages with greater skill than I have. Would you be open to listening? To learning?”
Jozan knew that thought felt dangerously close to accepting necromancy. He thought for a long moment, the quiet between the two stretching as the others made themselves ready to leave; Regdar packed the bedroll Naull had slept on and gathered his shield, strapping it to his arm. Lidda was rolling her dagger in her hand, over and over, flipping it and looking more than a little bored with waiting. The priest turned to look at Naull again.
“I do not know. But I will consider it - you may certainly travel with us; there’s little doubt in my mind that Regdar feels differently.” He flicked his eyes to the warrior and Naull seemed a bit confused by that but he continued. “I will try to remain open to such things - so long as you do the same, considering my lived experiences against your theoretical knowledge.”
She mused for a long moment. Finally, she nodded agreement.
“I will temper my confidence.”
“And, I, my fears.” He nodded. “Allow me a bit of silence, please. I will finish my prayers.”
She left him and he closed his eyes again, letting his breathing flow steadily and reaching out to touch the warmth of the sun once more. He inclined his head, softly intoning his prayers for guidance and Pelor’s miracles. As always, though there was no answer from his god, the warmth of the sunlight let Jozan know he was being listened to - directed.
After finishing his prayers, Jozan’s mind felt clearer. More focused. He donned his armor, taking up his mace and placing his helm back atop his head. The snug fitting helmet was strangely comforting to him and it had saved his life more than once before. He ran a hand over the wooden symbol of Pelor that he used as a focus for his magic and, prepared as best he was able, turned to his companions. They looked rag-tag, he thought; a bored thief, a stern warrior and an overly-confident mage. And he the dour cleric. He shook his head with a smile.
Strange companions, indeed.
“Alright,” Regdar said. He pointed up the tree covered hill with his shield arm. “We continue up. Those bugbears must not have had many companions, since no one came in the night to murder us.”
Lidda nodded. “Thank Olidammara for that.” She sheathed her weapon, giving Regdar a look up and down. “Any chance I can catch a ride? My feet are killing me already.”
“Oh, a lift does sound nice,” added Naull with a laugh. Regdar turned his face away and Jozan was certain the older man was blushing. He heard him clear his throat before he continued.
“Enough. We go slow, cautiously. Lidda and I saw more spiders last night; they’d taken more sheep.” This drew the concerned looks of both Naull and Jozan. The priest sighed. More loss for the hamlet of Fairbye. They needed to hurry before the sheep ran out and it was the people that were taken.
“Those bugbears must have come from somewhere,” Jozan added. He looked up but could only see so far with the thick tree growth.
“It could be from anywhere, yeah?” Lidda added with a nodding of her head.
“Maybe from the southlands?” Regdar offered, then turned east. “Or from the Marsh of Háelor. There’s orcs and all kinds of creatures out that way - though why they’d travel all the way here, who knows.”
“Maybe we were wrong and trying to kill us was just a polite introduction.” Lidda added with obvious sarcasm, drawing a chuckle from Naull and an annoyed look from the tall warrior.
“Doubtful.” Jozan commented. Looking ahead, he gestured forward. “Let’s move, then.”
“Lead on, Father.” Lidda flourished. Jozan gave her a flat expression and pushed forward, behind Regdar. Naull followed, with Lidda bringing up the rear.
It was only another hour of walking uphill before the group stopped, finding the likely source of the spiders and goblins. And possibly the bugbears. The yawning mouth of a great cave, several meters tall and double that in width lay before them; like a great, rocky-toothed maw it lay open to the world. It was surrounded by old overgrowth, thick trees with heavy canopies and it looked like it was at the foot of The Merciless Range in the distance. They were still miles off but cave systems, Jozan knew, could run for many miles. Though mapmaking and navigation was not one of the priest’s strong points, he did enjoy the artistry of the map making process; the skill to accurately represent, yet add flourishes of beauty, to the landscape of Oerth. It seemed that interest served him well., he mused as Regdar moved forward towards the entrance.
Lidda sucked her teeth loudly and shook her head
“Yeah, I- uh, I’m not going in there.” She looked over the entrance and pointed to the rocky formations at the roof and floor of the cave. “Those look like teeth. I’ve made it a habit not to go into anything that looks like a giant monster’s mouth.
Jozan gave her a look. “Do you have this experience often?”
“Adventurer,” she said, shrugging her shoulders. Naull chuckled. Jozan just shook his head.
“I don’t relish the idea of cave delving either,”the wizard said. She crossed her arms, staff held in the crook of her elbow.
It was Regdar’s turn to shake his head. “Even I can see the bugbear tracks - they come right out of the cave.” He pointed and Lidda shifted forward, softly whispering to herself.
“Please, please, please let him just be bad at finding tracks.”
“I can hear you,” Regdar said aloud. Lidda turned her head to him and she nodded.
“And?” She knelt down, looking over the ground and sighing very heavily.
“Goblins?” Jozan asked.
She shot him a look. “Yes, it’s goblins! Ugh! And bugbears!” She stood, drawing her shortsword and cursing. “I hate this damn place.”
“Maybe it’s a foolish thing to ask but how many goblins could there be?” Naull moved closer to the entrance and stared into the deep darkness. The light of the morning shone through the opening but it faded quickly. The cave mouth seemed to drop off about sixty paces forward, which meant the path beyond would be pitch black not much further past that. The young mage looked less confident than before.
“So many,” Lidda shook her head again. “I’m sure the spiders are in there too. Nasty, eight-legged bastards.”
“It makes sense that they would be; a dark place to spin webs and keep prey,” Jozan said as he joined the others near the mouth of the great cave. “I have a spell to banish that shadow.”
“Oh good!” Lidda exclaimed.
“And we have two lanterns,” Regdar mentioned. “But only enough oil for a few hours, I think.”
“Sounds like if we can’t figure it all out in a few hours we’ll just have to head back, yeah?” Lidda asked. No one replied. She huffed. “We can’t stumble around in the dark.”
“And Jozan’s spell won’t last forever,” Naull added. She got several curious looks and shrugged. “I am aware of a similar spell. It lasts about ten minutes, right?” She looked at Jozan and he nodded.
The girl is clever, he thought.
“She’s right. And I’ve only the ability to cast it once.”
“Seems like poor planning,” Lidda muttered under her breath.
“I can do it as well, plus another spell that summons witchlight.” She held up her hand. “Also not a spell that lingers long - considerably less, actually. I can try to push the magic further but that’s more difficult and could exhaust me faster.”
“Could you do it if we needed you to?” Regdar looked at her and asked.
She gave him a look that might’ve been an annoyance, Jozan noted, before she nodded.
“Let’s keep the spells in reserve,” Regdar commented. He unhooked a lantern from his pack, Jozan doing the same. He handed the lantern to Lidda but she waved it off.
“I’d rather not be a beacon of light in the cave.” She shook her head.
“I’ll hold it,” Naull said. “I’ve got a free hand, though I may need to put it down when I cast.”
“As will I,” Jozan said. “But this should be more than enough to see us through.”
“Did I mention how I’m not going in there - monster mouth? Anyone?”
The four of them moved forward, Jozan gently guiding Lidda into the cave mouth. She cursed several times; very colorful language that Jozan admitted made him chuckle inwardly. Regdar and Naull entered first, her behind the larger fighter, and the lantern light beamed out into the darkness, banishing some of the gloom. Thick moldy mushrooms grew along the cave and Jozan, for a moment, felt like he and Lidda were of one mind.
He hated this damn place as well.
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