“Who the hell is this?!” I think to myself.

It’s impossible to make out as the sunlight glares at me from behind them. I could’ve sworn I closed that door too. My eyes take a few seconds to adjust, and eventually I make out the general appearance of the intruder.

She’s an older lady, about my height, wears glasses and has long dark hair, which the sun just about lights up enough to reveal is actually a burnt red colour. Her dusty clothes suggest ages of travel, however the general condition of them are immaculate.

I turn back towards Gareth who sits across the table. A look of astonishment slips out of his generally stoic face. It seems like he is just as surprised as I am, so this isn’t a planned introduction. I feel the need to say something, but struggle to come up with a question. She’s been staring at us for quite a while now. I don’t like where this is going.

“I see, come on in. We can have a chat.” Gareth welcomes her in.

He is a man in his mid forties. Short clean white hair with a light beard to match. His equipment simple, yet finely polished, disguising the fact that he’s been in battle every other day for the last month or so. His inner shirt is centred perfectly to the well kept leather neck guard. The pinnacle of what a knight should look like, but his perfection as a warrior also extends to his demeanour. Polite, intellectual, patient, astute, self-sacrificing, long suffering, generous, street smart, knowledgeable, and with many other merits to his name. I can only hope to be a quarter as worthy as he one day.

“Thank you.” the stranger replies.

She walks in brushing past me. Her head darts left and right as if looking for the perfect chair to sit on. Eventually, she picks one and sits down perpendicular to us. I didn’t notice at first, but she also carries a wooden staff that looks quite expensive, or maybe it is just well maintained.

“So you’re an adventurer are you? By the looks of it, you must be a spellcaster. A witch maybe?” Gareth inquires.

“Ye-yes I am. I was just in the area and thought maybe I could... help?” She replies.

Gareth looks down, deep in thought. His gruff face radiates a fierce and intense energy, akin to a lion rearing to pounce on its prey. But I know that he is actually kind and preceptive to people’s plight. Unfortunately for our unaware visitor; who is clearly scared stiff, it’s quite difficult to understand that until you spend many a gruelling days working under him.

“Hmm... Alright that sounds good to me. I’m actually quite grateful that you’ve come at the perfect time.” He says.

That is true. Gareth and I were struggling to gather up the provisions and equipment necessary to make the raid on our own. A spellcaster should be really convenient to have as a team-mate. I look down at the random assortment of equipment strewn about the table. A better half of them derelict, too old to actually function.

“I can do most basic spells.” She replies. Her eyes look more confident now. Her mouth, almost curving to a smile.

“I can conjure Light, and also enhance you with Protection and Swift. I am not very proficient at it but I can also cast a minor Heal. My offensive spells are Fire bolt and Lightning bolt. That’s about all the spells I have... I think...” Her voice shrinks as she trails off towards the end.

I look down at the knick-knacks we procured. The polished black granite round table shimmers in stark contrast to the dusty torches, lanterns, armour plates and crossbow bolts that litter it’s royal face. I wonder how useful this person would be in our party, but I gather that something is better than nothing.

“That’s perfect.” Gareth replies. “How fortunate we are to have you with us.”

He unleashes a comforting smile at her. My hands clench my chest in slight envy. I’d seen him show such appreciation a handful of times, but I’ve never been able to elicit such a response myself. I must show my valour during this raid. It’s the greatest opportunity I’ve had until now.

“Ahem. Pardon me for the late introductions. My name is Gareth and this here is-”

“Elara!” I rise from my seat. I realize that I’ve been silent this whole time.

“My name is Elara Miller. I was a guard in training for the last three years and this is my first mission and my fourth month as an official guard.” I proudly proclaim.

She seems relieved. Her voice slightly stutters but begins, “Hello, my name is Meer. I am a travelling adventurer from the village of Odel to the far south. I have only begun my journey earlier this year, but I hope to be useful in this endeavour we are about to undertake.”

Her sentences are saturated. I wonder if it’s a gift of the elderly to be so superfluous in their speech. However if Gareth is content, I won’t argue. Even if she is an adventurer.

Gareth takes a deep breath and begins, “Alright, In a kinder world, we would have been more accommodating, but we shall be leaving tomorrow at the crack of dawn. I wish I could give you more information but apart from the location of this cave here”- Gareth points to a fairly crude map on the wall, “There is not much else I can tell you. Elara and I are both, quite straight forward swordsmen. There is not a whisper of magic between us.”

Meer swallows hard. The weight of her role in this has become clear. Being the only magic wielder is quite a colossal ask. I wouldn’t blame her if she backs out. That’s what they always do. Leastwise, Gareth and I will be enough to get the job done.

“Alright. I shall be ready.” She declares. Her eye are clearly fearful, but I sense confidence in her stance.

“Great, we’ll meet up at the main village gate at sunrise. Also you look starved, why don’t you grab some lunch. Elara, show her to the Crooked Tankard. That’s about the only place you can buy a hot meal from around here. Dismissed.“

“Yes sir!” I exclaim with a salute. I turn to and leave through the open door behind me. My ears catch the rustling of chairs and baggage as Meer follows behind.

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We find ourselves at the mouth of a fairly small cave. As Gareth and Meer assess the equipment and possibilities of what lie inside, I peer through the circular entrance to see that the cave walls flatten and squash quite a bit towards the inside. The ceiling visibly extending up till the light from the morning sun fails to grasp it’s height any further. I feel claustrophobic already.

“Looks like we’ll have to push in a single file”, Gareth says. The tiny old map he holds, barely has any details on it.

He continues, “The prospectors that mapped this cave decades ago gave up after a certain depth. With so many ore rich pockets in the Mural ranges, they must’ve figured that it would be easier to just try another one.”

He pockets the map as they walk past me and says, “Elara, you cover the back. there are a few forks down the line so keep an eye out for any bushwhackers.”

“Yes sir!” I reply. Meer turns to me and we lock eyes. Her dark brown irises run deep in contrast to the highlights of the bright morning sunlight. This might be the first and last time I see it up close.

It takes a few seconds but she finally says “Don’t worry, we’ll be fine.”

“Sure.” I reply, but she doesn’t seem to react to my answer before turning to the cave. Something tells me, she was talking to herself. Meer lift’s up her cane upright in front of her, closes her eyes, and starts to chant in tongues. It takes a few seconds but she open them up again and utters, “Light.”

A small thread of white mist-like Spirit shoots up from her hands, coiling up the staff before it turns into a small radiant globe at the tip of her staff. I stare awestruck, my mouth wide agape. The light was clean and dazzling, illuminating everything around us, overpowering the sunlight. I look at Gareth, who is clearly impressed by the outcome of her spell, but what caught my attention the most was the caster herself whose face looks even more surprised than mine.

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Gareth lets out an affirming hum as he starts into the cave. Meer follows suit and I take a deep breath before stepping into the cave myself. The echoing of footsteps slowly amplify as we leave the entrance behind. The tiny protrusions on the ground start increasing in size as we are forced to step around the larger ones. Reaching the first fork in the road, Gareth signals at me to cover the split as they walk in to secure the dead-end branch. They return with nothing to report.

We continue the cycle for a few more tributaries, their return occasionally preceded by the death-cry of a goblin, and we arrive at the final crossroad listed on the map. Gareth’s hand lifts and falls with an open palm, signaling at us to melt into the walls. The Light dims. In the lukewarm darkness, my ears start picking up sounds previously masked by our footsteps and ruffling bags. The air vibrates with something that sounds like a body being dragged on the ground. It’s soft but heavy, like the sounds of farmers dragging the large sacks of rice to their godowns. It seems to be coming from the left fork.

“I’d consider checking the right path first but with no more information on our hands, it’d be worse for whatever that is we hear to follow us into a dead end.” He whispers, his voice subdued just enough not to stir an echo in this chasm.

Both Meer and I nod. My mind runs blank on if the choice is right or wrong, but I trust Gareth, he is always right. We push ahead on the left-hand path. The Light swells up barely enough to illuminate the ground in front of our feet. Meer’s hand rises up to her face, probably pinching her nose as a smell of iron and rot starts to fill the air. The stench is light but unmistakable, like the smell of a monster’s corpse left out for the crows.

The light suddenly flattens at a dirty grey wall. A dead-end I think, so I turn back to head on to the other path.

“Get back!” Gareth cries out. My nerves tingle from the sudden ring of echoes in my ears. He springs towards us, his back pushing Meer in to me. A loud impact fills the air followed by a scrape that sounds like screws on a metal wall. Light amplifies to fill the cave walls, and we lay eyes on the source of our trouble.

The monstrous creature, barely contained within the confines of the narrow passage, lets out a deafening roar that echoes through the cavern. Its size, truly overwhelming in the cramped space, makes a direct frontal assault seem suicidal. Meer quickly chants a spell, weaving a protective shield around Gareth and imbuing him with a burst of speed. The incantation, whispered urgently, barely disturbs the creature’s focus, but the effect is immediate as the frontline bursts into battle.

The urge to take the front line overwhelms me. I push past her, my sword scraping the solid wall on the left. Gareth moves with a blur of motion, his sword turning into a silver streak as he launches a lightning-fast attack, aiming for the creature’s exposed flank. The creature reacts with surprising agility, its claws slashing wildly, but Gareth’s enhanced speed allows him to evade the worst of the attack.

I try to step into the fray, but inserting myself into this ongoing dance feels impossible. My eyes struggle to find an inch of ground that’s empty for long enough step in. Desperate to commit to action, I look up to see the face of the monster. My eyes widen with terror, as my hands clasp tightly around the grip of my weapon. I’ve never felt such a terrifying pressure weigh down on me. The creature towered over us, it’s hands barely having enough space to pull back and make his attacks. The grime and layers of gunk conceal almost all of it’s body.

Suddenly there is silence. Both combatants seem to slow down as if aware of an impending stalemate. I beg my feet to take flight. I need to take action. In my moment of selfish valour I hear a sound that pulls me back into to reality.

Its a short, fleshy THUD followed by the clanking of rocks on the ground.

I look back to see a nightmare painted on the wall. There are silhouettes of multiple goblins hiding behind the scattered protrusions of the cave. Their identities only divulged by the titular pointed ears that represent their kind.

“Meer! Lookout!” I shout, but she doesn’t react. Her face is contorted in pain. I didn’t notice it at first but she’s stood with her back hunched slightly down. Her eyes; unfocused, are not on the battle. I peer behind her feet and realize the source of the sound. A rock about the size of two palms lay on the ground splattered with blood. She’s been hit.

I dash to the backline, careful not to push her down while navigating the uneven terrain. Gently laying my back against hers, hoping to prop her up if she stumbles backward, but without pushing her face down. I grip my sword in shame, I let my eagerness to achieve... something... whatever it was, get the better of me.

The goblins seem to be keeping their distance. It’s possible that in their eyes, both we and the monster are a menace to them. Their clatter and chatter sound too hollow to be a threat, still I need to focus on defending the rear. The fight between Gareth and the monster has picked up again. The clash of claws and steel resume. I hear Meer mumble something and turn my head, hoping for a clearer voice when all of a sudden the cave erupts in a flash of fire. The walls turn a yellowish-red for a split second as she launches a fireball at the monster.

The explosion is thunderous. The goblins scream, their shadows wriggling in their panic. I focus my eyes on every singe movement, hoping this is enough to deter them from further action. I swear to not look back. I’ve already made one mistake.

The bellows of the monster only seemed to turn more infernal as the battle rages on. My patience is running thin. I’ve got to know what’s happening behind me. Before I succumb to my weakness however, a flash of light erupts again. This time, the cave itself turns white, and instead of the brimstone heat of the first spell, this one feels soft and warm like falling into a pile of downy cushions.

Unable to take it any more, I turn back just in time to see Gareth slash the monster’s throat in a coup de grâce. It’s gurgling death cry will haunt me for a long while. A flesh covered bone shoots out of the gash as it’s head tilts back. I look on; slack jawed, as the creature kneels, then collapse forward. The ground shakes timidly as the dust around it’s body erupts in celebration. It’s blood pouring out like a tipped over flagon. Gareth examines the body as I struggle to absorb what I’ve just witnessed. But my mind is quickly anchored to the situation by the shuffle of feet behind us.

“Multiple goblins approaching form the rear!” I shout.

I’ve lost track of what is loud and quiet in this cave. Gareth quickly rises and signals forward. I sheathe my sword and put my hand on Meer’s back. Firmly but carefully pushing her ahead. Her feet moves quick but heavy, her balance seemingly stable yet uncertain. I feel moisture through the back of he tunic and light armour. The wound is worse than I thought. I fear that she may collapse before we reach a clearing. The faltering pulse of the Light spell reinforces my concern.

“She’s going to black out!” I yell, hoping Gareth can hear me.

”We need to find a place to rest and patch her up.”

We seem to have lost our pursuers, yet the uncertainty of silence behind our footsteps scare me.

“There.” Gareth commands in a strong yet hushed tone.

He points to a stalagmite rising near the side of the cave, the pitch black portion of an opening peeks out from the side, barely noticeable against the wavering light.

He tucks his hands under Meer’s knees and shoulder, lifting her up to make the final sprint. We make a dash for the alcove as the Light dies. My feet guided only by the remnants of an outline burnt into my mind.