Dungeon Crawl

“Do you think we lost it?” The gnome asked. His voice was a slightly unnerving. It was fairly high-pitched and squeaky. His question almost sounded sarcastic, as if he was trying to draw the others’ attention to the lack of noise surrounding them.

“I don’t know Pock.” The half-elf in red sighed. He was still catching his breath. “For now, let’s just continue following this path, we’re bound to find something eventually.”

“That’s comforting…” The gnome called Pock muttered. He overheard a brief chuckle from the second half-elf behind him, as if he was also lacking confidence in their leader.

The trio continued wandering through the dark forest until the sun started to fall. Of course, to them it was the difference between the forest being dim and gloomy and dark and depressing. When it became too dark to see, Anon, the half-elf in red, almost effortlessly created a ball of fire, and waved it through the air to illuminate their path. In what felt like moments later, but was undoubtedly much longer, they came to a familiar clearing. The half-elf in the back took a deep breath of the humid forest air and exhaled loudly.

“Admit it, Anon, we’re lost.” He droned. There was a brief silence.

“Ok, fine.” Anon, the half-elf in red replied. “We’re lost. What a surprise.”

The other half-elf rolled his eyes at Anon’s auspicious remark. Before he became to annoyed, he responded,

“You know damn well why we’re lost, Anon. You just had to look…”

Anon’s eyes widened as his companion reopened old wounds.

“Pat!” He shouted the name of the other half-elf as he reeled around to face him eye-to-eye.

“We both know why Mort isn’t here, and we both know it wasn’t my fault!” Anon glared into the eyes of Pat, who stared back with an indifferent face.

“Mostly.” Anon added before Pat could respond. “So stop trying to scapegoat me for it.” He continued.

Pock, the gnome, sorely recalled the incident the two half-elves were referring to. Before the trio had been chased into the forest, they were four. Their fourth companion and instructor, the self-acclaimed Mort the Magnificent, had been their teacher for no less than a month when they had a “field trip” into these gloomy woods. They stumbled upon some large sleeping monster that they ignorantly nicknamed a “Swamp Dragon/Turtle” for its resemblance to both a fat dragon, and a massive turtle. This was another matter that Anon and Pat couldn’t agree on. Pat believed that the large snout, neck and tail were more resemblant of a dragon, whereas Anon thought that the head had too much of a beak-like structure to be a dragon’s snout, and that the creature had a large shell and no wings. Mort, the instructor, resolved the conflict by dramatically imposing the name, “Swamp Dragon/Turtle”, in what was probably intended to be a lecture about strange creatures in nature and their significance. Unfortunately, the monster woke up in mid sentence, and exhaled copious amounts of acidic fumes onto Mort, who was dissolved into a bleached skeleton in seconds.

In the current argument between Anon and Pat, Pock concluded that Pat was trying to scapegoat Anon for the death of Mort because Anon discovered the Swamp Dragon/Turtle in the first place. A rather typical move for Pat, who blames everyone except himself, and a typical move for Anon, who gets very defensive very quickly.

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