Adventure of Shakazar Frambling 3

Stone shears away underfoot, and Shakazar Frambling drops from the slanted passage into black water. Cold slams him hard. The cavern opens wide around him, a drowned throat of rock with a wind like breathing through cracks.

Nearby, Sister Mael splashes down beside him, still clutching the moss rite. The Ashen Way Scouts tumble in behind, their lanterns hissing as they hit the flood and go dim.

The water rises fast, tugging at cloaks, packs, and loose gear. Shakazar feels his spore kit jolt at his side as the current reaches for it, then drags him toward a dark sinkhole in the cavern floor.

One scout grabs at a jagged ledge and hauls themself clear, coughing. Another disappears under the surface for a breath, then thrashes back up, wide-eyed and desperate to reach higher stone.

Ahead, a narrow shelf curves along the cavern wall, slick with mineral shine and pale fungus. It offers the only safe ground, if Shakazar can reach it before the current tears Mael and his spores apart.

Shakazar Frambling kicks hard through the black water, angling for the pale shelf. The current yanks at his boots, but his staff catches a ridge of stone and steadies him long enough to reach up.

A dark elf leans from the ledge, one arm braced against the slick wall, fingers extended into the spray. Her grip closes around Shakazar's wrist as the flood surges below.

With that pull, he surges up chest first, boots scraping for purchase against the stone face. Water sheets off his beard and kit as the ledge holds under him.

Mael splashes toward the shelf behind him, the moss rite still tight under her wings, while the scouts flounder farther off in the dim. The sinkhole gulps at the flood beneath them.