3. Fungal Cave

Let's be realistic. He is either killed by and Orc already or able to take care of himself. And I'm not sure I am
Nindia agrees returning to the camp and suggest to take risk they both rest.

"Hello Korena..." - Faramos tried to stand up to greet his savior properly, but managed only to crouch on one knee. From one side being still under disastrous effects of fungi spores and from the other having visibly much too many things attached to his belt and in his backpack filled to the brim. He pulled out his staff that was strapped to his back and used it as support to lift him to his wobbly feet. Now standing - no matter that barely - he was ready to introduce as proud dwarf that he still was... in significant part of his being:

"I'm Faramos. Some humans even call me: Faramos the Wild. But don't be afraid..." - what brought a little smile on Korena face, as Faramos didn't look as capable to do any harm to anyone at that very moment - "it's not because of my character... rather because of my strange - for a dwarf" - he underscore name of his kin as that wouldn't be obvious - "connection to nature or at least this forest."

"Thanks for all your help... that.... I will surly became aware of very soon..." - he looked upon himself as if checking if he is really in one pice and how he looks. At that moment he notices a claw marks, similar to those of a bear, on a nearby tree trunk. His stomach rises to his throat immediately in the reflex of big uneasiness.... But he tried not to let it show. - "or simply not killing me as some wild, engulfed in madness... animal."
"I have never met one of your kind... but had heard a lot of stories about how your people... well... hate dwarfs." - Faramos grabbed his staff with even stronger grip and looked Korena straight into the eye... but soon realized, that if she was planning to kill him... she could do it a thousand of times already.

"Parents and ancestors!? So there is more of you? How many!?" - Faramos' eyes widened when he imagined having to fight many elf's attacking him from every side. Especially in current state... and as his consciousness didn't accept shocking news that elves and dwarfs are supposed to be allies.... yet.

He looked at her arrows when she mentioned them... and making sure they were sitting nicely in her quiver he calmed down a bit.

When she crouched he met her gaze with tired by still full of fierce eyes.
"NO! I'm not planing to die... today or in the any kind of near future... and don't you dare...." - he swept her with his gaze again as to get sure that her body language is indeed more friendly than not... to not only notice that she indeed doesn't look like someone who threatens him, but also how... beautiful creature she is...

"Don't you dare..." - he readapted - after catching his thoughts and throwing them away - much more softly - "force me to prove it!".

He turned his gaze to the side and continued:
"But I guess... as someone who has helped me... you deserve some explanation. Me and my... sister - we come from Willowbrook. For many reasons... we decided it's time to leave that place and find our real purpose in the world. Now... when the mists seam to withdraw. We explored the Fungal Cave - a proper name I must say - because I wanted to be sure that we have cleansed it from the corruption that we found there. A foul necromancy-like magic that mixed dead flesh with fungi! We managed to destroy one of the necromancer's tomes... but maybe thats not all... we must burn it to the bone while it's still in the bud!" - he declared with rising passion, only to end with much quieter:
"Besides... it's not a crime to help yourself with the things that belonged to surly bad people... and use them for the good cause."

"I was also traveling with our friend: Nindia. We all got separator when those purple fungi beast poisoned us with some gas... Being on the subject: where am I? How far from the cave?" - Faramos looked around having no idea how far he have ran.

Springrise, 11th day.
Morning
As the first light of dawn filtered through the trees, casting long golden shadows across the forest floor, Korena and Faramos emerged from the undergrowth. The cave entrance loomed nearby, still dark and ominous even in the soft glow of morning. In a clearing near the cave mouth—where they had camped yesterday—two sleeping bags were nestled beneath a crude shelter made of fallen branches and leaves.

Nindia and Brenda lay side by side, their bodies rising and falling in the rhythm of deep sleep, clearly exhausted from their ordeal. A small fire, now reduced to embers, crackled softly in the cool morning air.Faramos swayed slightly as he approached the camp, his hands gripping his staff tighter than usual. Exhaustion weighed on him like a leaden cloak, pulling at his limbs with every movement. His eyes were bloodshot, the dark circles beneath them standing out starkly against his weathered brown skin. His shoulders sagged, and there was a noticeable tremor in his legs as he leaned more heavily on his staff for support. Yet his heart soared at the sight of his companions safe and unharmed. He let out a long breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, and as he took a step closer, the crunch of leaves beneath his boots woke Nindia. Her eyes fluttered open, the haze of sleep still clouding her gaze, but when she saw him, recognition sparked.

"Faramos?" she murmured, sitting up quickly, her hand instinctively reaching for the dagger at her side. Brenda, startled by the movement, woke as well, her eyes wide for a moment before she, too, recognized her dwarf companion. Relief washed over both women.

"Oh! I'm so glad you are in one pice!" - Faramos was visibly very happy in spite of his tiredness. But then he frowned:
"From one side: the fact that you returned to our earlier camp allowed me to find you very fast, but... from the other... camping so near the cave and both of you sleeping... not the most sensible move! Who knows what else could have crawled out of that cave!" - he scolded them, but only out of pure concern.

Then he turned to introduce Korena:
"And look who I have found in those damned woods... or rather I should say: who found me!" - he tired to laugh loud as to cover the fact that he was rescued by "elf girl" - which he still didn't know was an embarrassment or... not.

Nindia is likewise happy to see Faramos alive. After a short hug she asks An elf? Not a ghost, but a real elf? Are they indeed made of a ruby? Anyhow, looks like you need to sleep. We will take care

Springrise, 11th day.
Morning
Korena chuckled softly from where she stood on the edge of the camp, her sharp eyes scanning the woods even as she smiled at Nindia’s innocent question. "Don't know about my greatgrandfather, but I assure you, no rubies here," she said, her tone light and amused.
Faramos wanted to argue, to insist that he was fine, but the truth weighed down on him, undeniable. His eyelids felt like stone, his legs like lead, and his vision swam every time he blinked too long. He sighed, defeated, and gave a tired nod. "Aye… you’re right. I’ll leave it to you."

With Nindia’s help, he eased himself onto one of the bedrolls, his body immediately sinking into the worn fabric. The earthy smell of the campfire and the cool air around him quickly lulled his senses. He lay back, using his pack as a makeshift pillow, and though he tried to stay alert, his eyes closed almost on their own, the exhaustion pulling him down into a deep, much-needed sleep.

Korena took position a few paces away, her longbow resting lightly in her hand as she stood watch. Her sharp eyes were ever-moving, scanning the surrounding woods for any sign of danger. She barely shifted as the hours passed, her stillness reminiscent of the ancient trees themselves.

Brenda, meanwhile, sat cross-legged on the ground, her sword across her lap. She grumbled in frustration then stood up quickly as she tried to balance her stance and charge more effectively, but her attempts were more brute force than finesse. She was unable to learn anything new.

Nindia, seated near the fire, had her own focus. She succeeded in her studies, though she kept one eye on Faramos as he rested.Springrise, 11th day.
Day
It was midday when Faramos finally stirred. The sun hung high overhead, its rays filtering through the canopy and casting dappled light over the camp. He blinked awake, feeling the warm sun on his face. For the first time in what felt like ages, his mind was clear, and his body, though still sore, felt far less burdened than before. He stretched, feeling his muscles loosen, and sat up slowly. The exhaustion that had weighed so heavily on him was now a distant memory.

After waking and gathering his bearings, Faramos joined Nindia, Brenda, and Korena. They shared a simple meal—dried meats, bread, and foraged berries—along with fresh water from their waterskins. The air was calm, and the morning mist had mostly cleared, leaving the woods bright under the midday sun.

Faramos, do you really still support the idea of checking the cave before castle? I'm flattered. Let's try to learn from our mistakes. As my mother said - humans rarely learn from their own mistakes and never from other's.
She silently (with her body language alone) invites Brenda to follow them

The Depot
As the group once again stepped into the depot chamber, Korena, who had been alert but calm, froze as her gaze swept across the room. Her eyes narrowed, lips pressed into a thin line as she took in the barrels, casks, and debris scattered about the cavern.

"This is... unexpected," she muttered, her voice carrying a hint of surprise and concern. She knelt near one of the large wooden barrels, running her hand over its rough, damp surface. "This wasn’t here the last time I scouted this place. Someone’s clearly been using this cave." The barrels, weathered and stained, were foreign to her. Whoever had claimed the cave had done so with purpose, turning it into a hideout. Her eyes flicked toward the burned grimoire. A dark magic had left its mark.

Brenda, standing near the remnants of the burnt book and broken casket, spoke up. "This grimoire—it was corrupted. Faramos burned it after we discovered what was in it. It’s from who we think created the monsters."

Nindia, who had been examining the room with her usual curiosity, suddenly crouched near a pile of wood stacked haphazardly in one corner. Her eyes widened slightly, fingers brushing the freshly cut edges. "Look at this," she said, pointing at the woodpile. "This is new. Recently cut. The barrels might be old and rotting, but this wood—someone’s been here very recently. Maybe within hours."

Ambush? Nindia suggest laconically. But first Faramos wanted to try the deep caves.
Nindia look at the dwarf questioning. Do he still want to risk with aggressive flora knowing Orcs could return any moment.

"I am not very sneaky, so I could wait outside if you wanna ambush the orc. But if Faramos prefers exploring or a more direct approach, I am going with you" - said Brenda.

"Yes Nindia: let's not make the same mistake like before. Like in example letting the orc try to ambush use when we were still at the camp. We probably only live because of you keeping watch in proper way." - he noted with genuine appreciation.

"This time I wouldn't want to have orc sorcerer at my back, while facing another fungi beast or something like that. So ambush. Agreed." - he concluded and then he fell into thought.

"First we should establish if the female orc is alone or not. AND especially: if she is out in the woods or deep in the caves - currently. To know at which front we should position us."

"Miss Korena... pardon me... as my information can be false.... again... but I also heard that elfs are masters of tracking... things... although I was told it mostly works just after they have a breakfast consisting mainly of dwarven hearts... row of course." - Faramos joked, smiling wide, visibly invigorated by the fact that now they have clear aim and will approach this cave methodically. This provided his friends with some relieve as he clearly was back 'to his usual self'.

He also looked around the depot looking for good place to hide - maybe behind some barrels? - fro the ambush:
"I will need a lot of help to stay hidden, but you, Nindia, you were able to hide just in the shadows? Amazing skills!"

Springrise, 11th day.
Day
Decision made, Brenda’s departure was swift, the rhythmic rustle of her armor fading into the underbrush as she disappeared into the dense forest beyond the cave. She had always been best suited to watch their back—her shield held the line when others faltered—and now she would do it differently. She would step out and wait, making sure not to make a noise and spoil their ambush. Alone in the wild, Brenda’s eyes scanned the trees as if they might suddenly generate enemies.

Back in the cave, Faramos crouched low, examining the floor of the depot chamber with the intensity of a hunter stalking prey. His gnarled fingers traced the faint outlines of footprints mixed with the telltale marks of something far more grotesque. The damp earth told a story of recent visitors—heavy, deliberate steps of orcs mixed with the dragging, erratic prints of something less alive.

"These tracks are fresh," he murmured, his voice rough but barely above a whisper. "At least a half dozen. Orcs, for sure... but the Spore Servants too." He grimaced, his eyes narrowing as he studied the disturbed ground, fungi growing in faint clusters along the path. "There’s no telling how many are in or out of the deeper caves, but they’ve definitely been moving through here."

Korena crouched beside him, her keen eyes following the same path he had traced. "So, we’re not dealing with just one threat," she said, voice low and laced with tension. "But we don't know where they are."

With no safer option, Faramos, Nindia, and Korena settled in the depot chamber, each finding a shadowed corner to meld into, their breaths shallow and slow. The air inside the cave was damp, cold, and carried the faint scent of rot from the barrels. The remains of the burned grimoire still smoldered faintly in the corner, casting weak, flickering shadows across the jagged walls.

The minutes stretched into hours, the silence broken only by the occasional drip of water from the cavern’s ceiling and the distant sounds of the forest outside. The depot chamber was cluttered with old barrels and broken casks, but now it felt suffocating—each corner potentially hiding something worse than the orc raiders they had anticipated.

Then, a sound shattered the stillness.

A low, guttural growl echoed from the depths of the cave. Faramos stiffened, signaling to Korena and Nindia. They tensed immediately, their eyes darting to the dark recess from which the sound came. Slowly, something began to move.

Emerging from the shadows was a single figure—a grotesque parody of life, barely resembling the human it had once been. The creature’s emaciated body was riddled with bursts of purple fungi, violently sprouting from its pale, decaying flesh. Its eyes, hollow and glowing a sickly blue, seemed to pierce the darkness. The spore-covered creature twitched and convulsed with every step, its movements unnatural, almost painful to watch. The purple fungi that covered it pulsed and writhed as though alive, feeding off the decaying body it had overtaken.



Faramo’s breath caught in his throat. "Another Spore Servant," he hissed, his voice barely audible.

Nindia, her eyes narrowed, muttered, "It’s faster than the ones we’ve seen before."

Indeed, the creature’s movements were more erratic, more frantic, driven by a mindless hunger that radiated from its every step. Its hollow eyes scanned the room, and for a brief moment, it seemed to sniff the air, searching for something—or someone.

Faramos held his breath, his knuckles white as he gripped his staff. They had seen these things before, but none like this. This Purple Spore Servant was stronger, more feral. And it was alone—no orcs, no sorcerers to command it. It moved with terrifying independence.

The creature paused near one of the barrels, its twisted body jerking violently as it reached out to touch the rotting wood. The purple fungi on its arms flared as it sniffed again, its head twitching toward where Nindia was hidden.

She froze, her muscles taut, eyes locked on the Servant as it neared. She was well concealed, her dark cloak blending into the shadows, but the creature’s erratic movements and unnatural instincts made it unpredictable. It jerked again, this time closer to her, its twitching limbs scraping against the stone floor.

Korena‘s arrow was trained on the creature’s head, but she didn’t fire. Not yet. They couldn’t risk alerting whatever might be lurking deeper within the cave. The Servant twitched again, its glowing blue eyes scanning the chamber as if trying to remember something it had long forgotten.

The Purple Spore Servant was NEAR them, looking around, when Faramos and Nindia decided to do something about it, followed closely by Korena.

No, not yet Nindia decided to keep wait holding both of her weapons, afraid do even breath.

Faramos looked at the Purple Monster... and his face - at first surprised, gradually changed into an expression of supreme disgust. His hands and features began to tremble... it was obvious that it was only a matter of time before he explodes in the frenzy of holy act of cleansing the cave.

At first his mouth opened to a battle cry... but only a barely audible hiss escaped it:
"Cease to exist!" - followed by a strike of his staff fueled by pure hatred for what he was seeing before him.

With a short cry out "ahh" Nindia throw the throwing axe which is a bit too heavy for her.