Dancing in the Dark

Forest fire

The biome of the Midlight’s Deep never ceases to amaze me. We’re down five floors and what do we hear in the dark but the rustling of treants and their elders. Not just that, but in the distance we all heard the faint tinkling of running water and sometimes I would hear the exasperated groans of Balthier who had teleported right into a puddle of stagnant water, or of Rapha who twirled right into the water. Agrias, for her part, seemed to enjoy the gritty business of it.

Of course, as we descended into the Deep, there were far fewer monsters willing to part with their life force to shed light on our surroundings. Fumbling around in the dark yet again, it took us way too long to even find the exit – at least until Balthier cried out that he had finally ended up somewhere dry, now his foot was stuck in a draughty hole in the cavern floor.

Oubliette

We all had it. Rapha most of all, soaked as she was. Coming up for air all damp and with soggy feet, we dragged ourselves to Warjilis and the nearest tavern, where we warmed our bodies at the hearth and our throats with the ale that the tavernmaster offered us to trade for the juicy stories we may have brought along from Midlight’s Deep.

Not tonight, tavernmaster. We were all tired. Wrecked. To my estimate, we had cleared half the deep dungeon and fought all kinds of fauna, flora and runaway adventurers in there who had made the uninhabitable rocks their home. Rapha’s treasure hunting sense was waning and we desperately needed more experience under our belts to continue this madness.

Perhaps we’d share a few stories after we’d hit rock bottom of the Midlight’s Deep.