Gromm etched his way against the cavern wall, following the shallow breaths of his companions. Sometimes he would see the faint light from a torch several feet ahead of him, but it might turn down another passageway and he’d have less to go with, so the sound worked better. Kaln had advised him to “take off your stupid sunglasses for once in your adult life,” but he refused. He’d been living in the dark for so long anyways.
The only light that stayed constant was the cherry glow at the end of his nicotine stick.
“Where the hell are we even going?” he asked to the closest silhouette he could make out.
“To see the Night Princess,” Cheshire said cheerily back, unperturbed by the stumbling around in the darkness. “I think Storm loaned her some DVDs or something.”
“I said,” Storm called from even further ahead, “that I was helping her against some rogue deities.”
“Same thing,” Cheshire mocked.
The storm conjurer turned to face her, and the hall did lighten a little, at least around his lightning eyes. “No they aren’t, and just the fact that you didn’t listen close enough to hear the difference when I said it back in town makes it all the more clear that I should have come alone.”
“Mwah-wah-wah, shoulda come alone, merp-merp-merp…” chided the haunted girl.
“C’mon, man,” Brakus said, but Gromm was so far back he could barely pick it up as the knight was at the party’s lead. “You know we all wanted an excuse to explore beneath the towers. This is where you get all that good loot!”
Kaln, who did seem to be in line with them at all, but by the sound of it was somewhere on the ceiling, called down. “It’s also where you can lose a level or six.”
The Sixlet slithered a tentacle up to Gromm’s shoulder. “You can’t lose me, you hunka elven love,” it whispered. Gromm brushed it away for the hundredth time in the last hour.
“I’m just saying, I expected it to be dark. But not… you know… this dark.”
“Just doesn’t have the same vibe to it if your not listening to one of your Smiths albums, right?” Kaln teased.
“The Smiths aren’t dar– Look, can you just come down from the ceiling already, I’m disoriented enough as it is?”
“Me on the ceiling?” Kaln replied. “I thought you guys were the ones upside-down this whole time. Wait. What boots am I wearing?” and the group heard a loud thud as, presumably, Kaln fell from the realization of gravity.
“Welcome to land, pirate,” Stormchaser said a little too gleefully.
“Almost!” Kaln called back. “Is there shag carpet in this cavern?”
“WOULD YOU GET OFF OF ME, YOU NIMROD!” Wolfie howled. “God, we have to stop feeding you goodberries, you’ve ballooned like a Blueberry Beauregarde!”
“Sorry, sorry,” he cooed. “The coat adds thirty pounds.”
“Tsk… I just had my tail fluffed in town too.”
Sixlet let out a little squeak. “Look out, boys! The werewolf is trolling for Svirdneblin. Gonna get deep in the sheets with a deep gnome!”
“You know I don’t need light to rip your tentacles out, Sixlet. I can find you by smell.”
“We can all find you by smell!” came a chorus.
“Oh, you’re all a bunch of dirty hook-horrors.”
