This side is clear, yelled Muller, the soldier, as he beheaded a trolloc.
He had proven my intuition right.
After enough camps, he had shown his potential.
From across the open cavern, the enchantress named Quinn, with shaking hands, yelled,
"Almost done here,"
As she finished off a smaller trolloc with a rush of ice.
She had been a surprise. With an affinity for ice, she wielded powerful spells with an ease much too mature for her age.
Grumbling, Ernest the warlock, grunted as his demon "Edgar" tore through a band of trollocs that had appeared from our flank.
This one was simply odd.
Nothing more and everything left to be discovered.
Before me lay the Elite Trollock Watcher.
Glowing in a purple Haze, he cleaved the air in blows that produced shakes and rumble to fall from the ceiling.
Which had to be avoided at all costs.
Slipping and dodging,
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I got underneath the beast as it lurched for another ferocious swing, unsheathing my daggers, which Robert had enchanted with sharpness and durability, causing my blades to glow an incredible orange, slicing his exposed underbelly.
The Elite Trolloc bellowed in pain.
Not letting my combo go to waste.
I ended the creature with a strike to the neck.
Crashing down, the unexpected Elite camp was slain and the cavern was cleared.
A wave of energy filled my bones and lifted my spirits.
I had grown once again
Excitement crawled its way into our group.
The hours spent inside the dungeon had hardened them to the unexpected harshness of combat.
Especially when they had cleared out this room, only for an event to trigger, sending a new wave of enemies followed by an Elite.
Luckily, I was able to solo the Elite and leave the fodder to my new companions.
"Locke, thank..."
An attempt of gratitude almost came off the lips of Muller, the soldier.
What did I say? There will be no thanking until we clear the dungeon with the rest of our expedition, nothing is over, and nothing is worth relaxing over.
Never relax.
Stay calm
But don't lower your guard.
Ever.
After everyone had collected themselves and healed up to full, we began to scavenge the loot left behind.
Gold coins, a couple of blue-hued items that were an upgrade for Quinn, potions that were split evenly, everything mundane and typical from a clear of this nature.
That was until a voice of trepidation and worry filled the party…
Um, Locke, what about this…
Muttering, a worried Muller, precariously holding the item as if it was made of glass.
Turning, I saw a fine blade with a purple aura and features that only a master bladesmith could produce.
Nice, an epic drop…