3. Fungal Cave

Faramos’s staff cut through the air with a wild, desperate fury, but the blow went wide, missing the Purple Spore Servant’s twitching form. The creature jerked at the sudden movement, its head snapping toward the dwarf, hollow eyes glowing with unnatural hunger. Its body convulsed violently, fungi writhing across its flesh as it let out a low, guttural hiss.

"Damn it!" Faramos snarled under his breath. His missed strike had drawn the creature’s attention, and now it lumbered toward him, its jerking limbs scraping against the stone floor.

Before the Servant could close the distance, a sharp metallic whistle cut through the tension. Nindia, her movements swift and precise, had already drawn a throwing axe from her belt. With a flick of her wrist, she let it fly.

The axe spun through the air in a perfect arc, gleaming in the dim light of the nearby torch. It buried itself deep into the creature’s neck with a sickening thud, severing flesh and fungi in one clean motion. The Purple Spore Servant froze mid-lurch, its glowing blue eyes widening in a grotesque expression of shock. For a moment, it stood still, a terrible stillness, as if trying to process what was happening.

Then, with a wet, tearing sound, its head rolled from its shoulders, hitting the floor with a heavy thump. Purple spores erupted from the severed neck, swirling in the damp cave air like foul mist, as the body collapsed in a twitching heap. The glowing blue light in its eyes flickered out, leaving only darkness behind.

---

Korena finally lowered her bow, exhaling softly. "Nice throw," she said. "But if there are more of these things... We should call Brenda and go inside. Let's destroy all those creatures."

Nindia take a few deep breaths and picks up her axe I was expecting more to follow. Nindia is relieved but worried If more of them move alone deep inside, we may take them down one by one indeed.
Nindia calls Brenda inspiring her and everyone else to follow the footprints identified by Faramos and try to surprise those who thing it's save in the cave.

The Crossroads
The soft flicker of Faramo’s and Nindia’s torches illuminated the small, dark chamber as the group cautiously stepped forward, their footsteps echoing softly in the damp cave. The air was thick with moisture, and the scent of wet earth mingled with the pungent odor of decaying plant matter. Bioluminescent fungi clung to the walls in thick, pulsating clusters, casting an eerie, pale glow that danced in time with the shifting shadows.Faramos held up his last torch, the dim flame flickering weakly in the cold, damp air of the tunnel. The light barely pushed back the encroaching darkness, casting long, jagged shadows against the cave walls.

Korena moved ahead, her own torch in hand, her eyes scanning the chamber with the practiced wariness of a seasoned scout. She had been here before, but there was always something unsettling about returning to places like this.

"I have been here before," she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. "The Crossroads."

Faramos, still seething after his earlier miss, wiped the sweat from his brow and grunted in acknowledgment. His gaze swept the room, taking in the slick walls, the glowing fungi, and the steady trickle of water flowing from the northeast. The sound of it was both calming and unnerving, a constant reminder of life teeming everywhere.

"I didn’t go any further along this tunnel," Korena said, gesturing toward the south where the water wound deeper into the earth.

"Why?" asked Nindia. She knelt by the subterranean stream, her fingers brushing the icy water. She frowned, shaking the cold droplets from her hand.

"The water was too cold," Korena replied. "And the tunnel curves out of sight. Didn’t feel right going down there alone. Too many unknowns."

Faramos peered into the darkness of the southern tunnel, his frown deepening. "Could be something there, though."

Korena tastes the water and continues, "Either way, water’s a lifeline in places like this, and we can refill our canteens from it. Might explain why the orcs are using this cave."

Brenda, her shield at the ready, took a step closer to the southwest tunnel, her eyes drawn to the faint outlines of yellow fungi that framed its entrance. "What about this one?"

"There is a door, a couple of abandoned rooms and then a carved tunnel. That’s where I found those frescoes," Korena said, her voice softening as if recalling something sacred. "Old images—robed figures, cradling these strange flowers. Purple lotuses. The rooms there seem... empty. Like someone or something built them and abandoned it long ago."

Nindia stood, casting her gaze over the three tunnels. "And the north tunnel? The one with the colossal fungi?"

Korena’s expression darkened. "That’s where the carnivorous plants live. Big ones—violet, teardrop-shaped. They feed on anything that wanders in, but they don’t leave and don't attack unless their territory is disturbed. There’s a path behind them, leading deeper, but I’ve never gone past the plants."

The group fell into silence, the decision weighing heavily in the air. The crossroads offered three choices, none of them without risk.

Faramos, want to see the frescoes? Would they say anything to you more than to elf? I don't think I want to see them.
Nindia struggle. North ? I'm ready to admit I am afraid going there. Cold water... the barrel with spoiled wine ...
Nindia think one person could probably try to "float" in the barrel if the river deep enough or they could make some some sort of stilts.

Aa Faramos certainly noticed it is his last torch he get back to the storage depot and take the wood collected by someone.
"We have to make some more." - he explained.

---

At the crossroads:

"I'm not THAT interested in frescoes... now. But would gladly see them, when we will be quite sure that the cave is relatively safe from treats in and out of it." - he rises his forefinger - "But other thing that Korena said makes me wonder. The rooms to the south west sounded like good place to have some quarters, maybe even some king of base of operation. The fact that they were empty last time Korena was here, doesn't mean they are still empty... But I'm also for some refreshing walk through the stream... after all those nightmares."

Nindia checks the water and agrees with Korena Refreshing? Not for me, thanks. Too cold. You are welcome to have your own walk.
And it can as well be for nothing.
Why don't we go check that castle already? I mean right after we have seen the room

The southwest rooms
The tunnel narrows as it progresses, forcing the group to move single file. As you press further, you notice three distinct paths ahead.

To the south, the rough, uneven surfaces of the natural cave suddenly give way to smooth, worked stone—a stark contrast to the organic shapes of the cave. This section is marked by torches flickering in wall sconces, casting a steady glow that suggests recent activity and a more deliberate, humanoid presence. Korena tells you that the frescoes are further down that path.

Much closer to your current location, a sturdy wooden door stands to the west. It is old but well-maintained, the thick timber reinforced with iron bands and bolts, suggesting that whoever built this meant for it to stay closed. The wood is dark and polished, worn slightly from years of use but still strong.

Between then, winding to your right, the natural stone continues, sloping downwards, further southwest, into deeper shadows. The path ahead remains rugged, twisting through jagged rocks and narrow crevices, leading into a more treacherous and unknown section of the cave system.

Seeing torch still alive Nondia switches to whispers and signs. She asks Korena - have she meen in there behind the doors?

Korena nods. She has been there, but a few seasons ago.

Brenda gets ready to open the wooden door, but waits for Faramos confirmation first.

Faramos puts his staff in special holder on his back that he have crafted for himself, then unties from his belt recently acquired Hand Axe, so he will be ready when the doors will open. If met with asking gazes he would just comment awkwardly, but also with whisper:
"What? I don't plan to stun orcs... as they didn't plan to sing us lullabies when they sneaked on us while we were camping..."

Then to Brenda: "Do it fast... there is always a very small chance that the door is not locked and every surprise on our side wouldn't be a bad thing." - he smiles and winks at her.

The Barracks
As Brenda opens the heavy, creaking door you see what looks like a barracks. The stench of unwashed bodies, wine, and stale sweat assaults your senses. This chamber is crowded with rows of crude, wooden bunks lined against the walls, each covered with dirty, tattered furs. Along the far wall, racks of rusted weapons and dented armor are haphazardly strewn about, evidence of the orc's lack of care. The room is dimly lit by a few flickering torches mounted haphazardly on the stone walls.

Before you can take in the full scene, a guttural voice cuts through the gloom, "Well, well, what do we have here?" From the far end of the room, an enormous orc with bulging muscles and a savage grin rises from his bunk, his jagged-edged two-­handed axe resting on his shoulder. Thrag Blackfang’s eyes gleam with the anticipation of violence, his grin widening as he sizes you up.

At the center of the room, an imposing figure clad in chainmail stands motionless, his back to you. Slowly, Uggoth Ironhide turns, revealing his scarred, calloused orc face. His deep, brooding eyes fix on you, and he hefts a massive spiked mace in one hand. "You trespass in Grimruk’s sacred lair," Uggoth rumbles, his voice low and foreboding, "and there is a price to pay for such blasphemy."

To his left, Morgra Bonecrusher, a wiry, predatory figure, moves with unnerving silence. Its the female orc you have seen before, her cruel eyes darting from one of you to the next. "Outsiders in our domain? How bold... or foolish," she sneers, her voice dripping with malice.

Before the situation can escalate further, a calm, commanding voice echoes in the room. "Hold, brothers," the voice says, and from the shadows steps Graknok "Ironfist" Bloodtooth. The orcs' sharp eyes gleam with intelligence, and unlike the others, there’s no immediate hostility in his gaze. "Hold your blades as well, outsiders. Graknok has words to share. We might just find common ground."

Thrag snarls at Graknok, his grip tightening on his axe. "Speak for yourself, Graknok. I say we spill their blood right here and now."

Morgra hisses in agreement, her hands twitching toward the daggers at her belt. Uggoth remains silent but steps forward, a clear sign of his readiness to strike.

Graknok, undeterred, raises a hand to calm the others. "Not every problem is solved with brute force, Thrag. Let us hear what they are doing here. Perhaps their goals align with ours more than you think." He then turns his gaze to you, his eyes narrowing as he waits for your response.

Fate has made Faramos regret his last words about orcs very fast. But he knew... that if he want to be an adventurer and live long enough to make him worth appearing in some human or dwarven stories... he has to be elastic and quick in his wits.

Faramos made two steps forward, entering the door frame, but not the room... (yet?)
"Don't be concerned about your lives brave orcs!" - his voice wasn't as strong and sure as usual, probably him being aware that it may be the greatest threat they have encountered so far and having suddenly dry mouth, but it was strong enough to not sound as someone afraid or don't believing in his own words.

"We are not here to kill mindlessly, and certainly not to kill those with whom we can reason." - he continued looking the leader in the eye, getting back some of his resolve.

"We are here to clean this cave from the crime." - he looked at the gang of orcs with insightful gaze, making a brief - but not to long pause.

"Crime against nature. Crime against death. Crime of blending humanoid flesh with those disgusting fungi! And we will not back down from this." - this time there was a hint of daring in his eyes, as - apparently - the subject was something burning strongly within him, even stronger the fear of the great danger that was standing in front of them.

"If fungi-zombies are your doing... agreement between us may be impossible to achieve. But if they are as disgusting to you as they are to us..." - he hesitated for a moment - "I see room for joining forces."

"Only when we will complete our mission, can we talk about other, common businesses." - he quickly ended his speech, before any of the orcs could answer.

Then he glanced at Nindia, hoping to see acceptance in her eyes: for the way he decided to lead this discussion and for the much-needed support. Because Faramos knew well enough, that Nindia's tongue was as skillful and stinging as her skill with the scimitar - if not more. And he was only good with logical arguments, not necessary feeling the people....

Would you accept as a price this throwing axe I took from an Orc who recently decided to trespass our camp through the the night. Ninda put off her dagger and demonstrate throwing axe still covered with Spore Servant blood (or juice if there were any of that).