3. Fungal Cave

Aha. East chamber illuminated by a feeble torch. Could be orcs, probably. Nindia want to make sure before returning to Brenda and Faramos. She draws her weapons and move east.

The Depot
The next chamber within the Fungal Cave opens into a crude depot, a space clearly used by someone to store their plunder and supplies. The dim light that filters in from the cave’s entrance casts long shadows across the uneven floor, accentuating the disarray that dominates the room. The air is a heavy blend of stale alcohol, mold, and the ever-present fungal odor, creating a strange atmosphere in this neglected storage space.



The walls of the cavern are lined with five large, musty wooden barrels, their surfaces stained and weathered from years of use. The barrels give off a faint odor of damp wood, hinting at their age and the less-than-careful handling they’ve endured.

Piled atop the barrels and propped beside them are smaller casks of wine and food, their seals barely holding back the contents, with some of the casks showing signs of leakage, the dark liquids seeping into the ground beneath. Scattered among the barrels are scraps of cloth, paper, a discarded timber axe, mugs and broken bottles, adding to the disarray that dominates the room.

In the center of the floor lies a small leather book, open and abandoned as if dropped in haste. Whatever secrets the book holds, it is clear it has seen frequent use, its pages worn and dog-eared.

Nindia can't resist grabbing the book and and getting back to the party to share the news: Orcs not there (if there were, they would have drunk the wine, wouldn't they)?

She suggest we go south together

---

Faramos hearing the news from Nindia, although a little sore after the eventful night... quickly regains his verve and curiosity back.
"A leather book, you say? We should check it now. Maybe there will be some clues to who was or IS living in this cave? Can I see it, before we go?"

After - hopefully - checking the book, he would add:
"We should check for some more food in that storage. Maybe we are not in danger of immediate hunger... but some more provisions never hurt. Who knows how big this cave is."Faramos takes the cask with wine - commenting his dead: "In case we will meet another crazy dwarf on our road".

"Hey... Brenda or Nindia... you think this wine is of good quality? You know... I simply can't check it myself... the smell is too strong for me. If it will be good, we could remember this and get back here when we will have any means to transport more goods with us."

Faramos, the book is written in Orcish, using the Dwarven runes. Even though you don't speak it, nor understand everything, there are some familiar runes and drawings that may let you get a general impression on what's written, if you make an extra effort...

The Book
Faramos opens the small leather book, instantly feeling a wave of discomfort. The text is incomprehensible, written in Orcish—a script he cannot decipher. Yet, the pages are filled with symbols, sketches, and markings that send a shiver down his spine. The book exudes a faint warmth, and plenty of Druidic Runes are scattered among it. Like math symbols, it’s a language of its own, shared by all druids in their grimoires to share and help them with magic.

He can make out the crude drawings: various plants and fungi, their shapes growing increasingly twisted as he flips through the pages. His eyes strain to make sense of these drawings. At first, they appear to be simple sketches of nature—trees, mushrooms, flowers—but they soon turn grotesque. Plants are merging with decayed animals, and vines snake through skeletal remains. There's a sense of decay and rot permeating every image, suggesting some form of unnatural fusion between life and death. The feeling of nausea rises in him as he contemplates the intention behind these illustrations.

Scattered across the pages are runes that he recognizes, Druidic symbols twisted and corrupted. They are rituals for defiling sacred groves and summoning blighted creatures. In one section, the focus seems to be on some sort of spore. Faramos can decipher bits here and there: how to control the spores, how they are used to manipulate the creatures he encountered at the entrance. There are signs of a mixture of substances—vinegar, perhaps spoiled wine—intended to create this dark influence.

The final pages are filled with Druidic symbols, part of a ritual. There is an obsession with a creature named "The Maw." Though the name means nothing to Faramos, the images he sees are terrifying. They depict a monstrous form, something beyond his understanding—an entity of endless hunger and darkness. In the margins, there are notes indicating the writer seems to plan its summoning, but they also indicate a fear of doing so too soon.

Closing the book, Faramos feels the throbbing pulse continue, a dark magic emanating from it. He can't make sense of all the details, but he knows one thing for certain: this is a tome of corruption, an artifact of twisted nature that seeks to bend the forest to a will far darker than he can fathom.

He then passed out. Was it too much effort? Or black magic? Whatever the reason, he is now unable to continue until he sleeps for a Quarter Day.

He didn't even drunk any ... even a smell made him fall asleep. Nindia laughs and drag dwarf out of the cavern with a help of Brenda (or actually Brenda with the help of Nindia ). And into some nearby bushes so that passer by wouldn't spot him.

I think we have pushed ourselves too hard. You must also rest, Brenda, I will keep the watch. We should expect Orcs returning any time.

While Brenda get ready for her sleep Nindia take book cack to cave and put the book back the way she fond it.

Springrise, 10th day.
Morning
Brenda finds a place for them to sleep, while Nindia returns to the cave's storage room to leave the book as it was.

---

Nindia - The Depot
You have just left everything as it was when, from the southern tunnel, a flickering torchlight dances against the damp walls, heralding the approach of a new presence. Nindia, you quickly crouch behind a rock near the cave entrance, your heart pounding as you listen to the footsteps approaching. After just a couple of seconds, you hear a female orc voice, grumbling and complaining in Orcish:

"Dou tou inkompet ork forsvandt i garr… Refterlord mar der mig, næsten alone, vin merk Grumrik madunsk, og gik en tur in skoverark."

Nindia, you can easily understand it:

The orc continued to mutter under her breath, oblivious to Nindia's presence. The rogue pressed herself closer to the damp cave wall, barely daring to breathe as the orc rummaged around the depot, kicking aside some debris in her frustration. Nindia observed her carefully, taking in every detail: the tight-fitting leather armor, the polished and well-kept short sword on her back, and the shrewd look on her face.



After a few tense moments, the orc seemed to have satisfied her grumbling search. She cursed under her breath one last time, casting a final glance at the darkened corners of the cave. For a brief instant, Nindia feared she had been spotted, but the orc simply huffed and began to make her way out of the cave, to the wilderness beyond.

Nindia keep hiding. Unless orc comes directly towrd where party sleeps. She fights urge to follow orc - safety first!

Nindia remained still, counting the seconds as the orc's footsteps faded into the distance. She waited until she was certain the orc was gone before slowly releasing the breath she had been holding. Creeping back to where Faramos and Brenda were resting, Nindia replayed the encounter in her mind. The orc hadn’t noticed her, which was a small blessing, but this encounter raised more questions than it answered.

Springrise, 10th day.
Day
As the hours passed, the sun light at the cave's entrance shifted, marking the slow crawl of time. They were ready and rested now. Interesting enough, the orc didn't return (yet?).After a quick chat, they gathered their belongings, steeling themselves for what lay ahead.

"So if female orc was looking for something in that chamber: that would mean it wasn't her own room? I wonder for what she was looking for if she didn't take that awful book?" - after feeling better Faramos asked Nindia and Brenda what they think about this strange behavior. Then he stood up and said, while collecting his things:
"One thing is sure for me: we have to burn this book! It has descriptions of awful rituals of mixing flesh... even dead one... with fungi... it's even worse then necromancy! Very bad things in there. Besides: you have seen what it did to those fungi-zombies we encountered at the cave entrance!"

He calmed down his burning anger a bit and continued: "But we have to do it wisely. Dead... we'd rather become guardians of this book than be able to burn it. The orc girl probably wasn't its owner. So the real owner might show up soon. We have to be ready for it and act quickly. He's nobody good, so I think we should also help ourselves to his resources that Nindia mentioned." - he finished with a smile.

Finally he decided: "I'm going in. This book must cease to exist in this world. You going with me or keep the rear guard in case someone will approach the cave? Being together inside we could also try to see what is in other parts of the cave."

Not waiting too long for answer he made first hasty steps towards the cave entrance.

No, she was not looking for something, but for... Nindia realize dwarf not listening turns to Brenda

Maybe he is still possessed by the book magic? I believe he got everything totally wrong. From what I hear the orc woman talking she must be the owner and may be the magician. Let's follow immediately. Should he indeed be possessed ...
Nindia follow Faramos considerably worried about the current state of his mind.

"What did she say?" - Brenda asked. - "I'm sure Faramos is very upset about this book, not possessed. Anyway, I agree with him, let's burn it..."

The Depot
As they re-entered the depot chamber, Nindia’s eyes scanned the area for any changes since she left it. Faramos moved purposefully toward the small leather book lying abandoned on the floor, his jaw set with grim determination.

"Wait," Brenda whispered, her hand reaching out to stop him, but Faramos shook his head.

"I won’t read it this time," he replied, his voice low. "But we can't leave this here. It’s too dangerous. Whatever power it holds, it must be destroyed."

Faramos pulled a torch from his pack and struck flint against steel, sparks catching on the oil-soaked rag at the torch’s head. As the flame took hold, the chamber was bathed in a flickering orange light, pushing back the encroaching darkness. He then strode towards a small cask in the corner, dusty and forgotten. Without hesitation, he hefted it up and smashed it against the ground. The wood splintered with a loud crack, and he gathered the pieces, arranging them into a crude pile. The makeshift fireplace took shape, its crude form resting on the cold, uneven stone floor.

"Stand back," Faramos instructed, his voice edged with urgency. Brenda and Nindia obeyed, their eyes locked on the druid as he prepared to do what needed to be done. He placed the book carefully atop the splintered wood, feeling the throbbing pulse of dark magic even from this distance.

With a deep breath, he brought the torch to the pile. The flames licked at the edges of the wood, crackling as they spread and grew. For a moment, it seemed the fire might not take, as if the book resisted its fate. But then, with a sudden flare, the flames consumed the wood, turning into a roaring blaze.

The book began to blacken and curl at the edges, its worn leather cover shrinking away from the heat. A magic and acrid smoke rose from it, carrying with it the scent of burning fungus and decay. Faramos watched intently as the flames danced around the tome, the druidic runes etched in its pages glowing a sickly green before disintegrating into ash.

For a brief moment, Faramos felt a pull, a dark whisper at the edge of his mind, urging him to save the book, to preserve its knowledge. But he gritted his teeth and resisted, focusing instead on the purifying power of the flames.

The book twisted and writhed within the fire, and a low, almost inaudible hiss escaped from it as if the very essence within was crying out in its final moments. Then, with a sudden burst of heat, it collapsed into a pile of blackened cinders, its dark magic finally extinguished.

Faramos let out a slow breath, feeling the oppressive weight lift ever so slightly from the chamber. "It's done," he muttered, his eyes fixed on the smoldering remains. "Whatever dark power that book held, it won't be shared."

Brenda stepped forward, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "You did the right thing, Faramos. This place is already less dark for it."

As the fire slowly died down, leaving only the charred remains of the twisted tome, Brenda turned her attention to the storage room. "Looks like we've found something useful for a change," she muttered, grabbing the bags with salted meat. She got one and tossed another sack to Nindia, who caught it with a nod of gratitude. In the meantime, Faramos grabs the timber axe with a smile.

Let's move in and explore before the Orc woman returns with - who knows - maybe more servants.
Nindia explain that Orc was complaining aloud about the only two Orcs abandoning her, I guess the two we killed.

The Crossroads
After the depot, the tunnel widens into a small, dark chamber, lit mainly by Faramo's torch. The walls are slick with moisture and overgrown with clusters of bioluminescent fungi that cast an eerie, pale light. The air is cool and damp, thick with the scent of wet earth and decaying plant matter, and the faint, persistent sound of dripping water echoes softly through the space. The chamber is roughly circular, with uneven walls that bear the marks of both natural erosion and the occasional clawed hand.

To the northeast, a subterranean stream spills into the chamber, its water clear but icy cold, flowing steadily from a narrow crevice in the rock. The stream winds across the chamber floor, cutting a shallow channel through the stone, before disappearing down a tunnel to the south. The water moves with a quiet, relentless energy, and small eddies form around the occasional stone or root that juts from the ground.

Three more tunnels branch off from the chamber, each one disappearing into darkness. The tunnel to the southwest slopes gently downward, its entrance framed by some yellow fungi. The south tunnel, following the path of the stream, appears slightly wider, with the sound of running water growing louder as it curves out of sight. To the north, the tunnel is narrower, its walls closing in tightly, with the ceiling sloping lower, forcing any who enter to crouch as they proceed.

If I were Or I would probably not crawl north Nindia is most intrigued trying North passage , but not insist. They are all the same at the moment.