Paladins Suck

It had been a few hours since they set off, and John found the utter lack of conversation more tiresome than the actual walking. He had since let go of his anger and fear, for now, but that only made the trek marginally more tolerable. Moira said nothing and barely responded to his questions with monosyllabic grunts, if at all. The going was surprisingly easy, what with the multihued crystalline growths lighting the way, and the ground was stable, all smooth walls and solid floor. There were occasional dark patches, but his phone took care of that as easily as it had in Rockscale Valley. It had no signal, naturally, so John had put it in airplane mode to conserve battery power for as long as possible.

"I don't suppose there are cell towers in the Abyss, huh?" he asked. Even if there were, there was no way a signal would be able to reach so far underground. Then again, John actually had no idea how far down they were.

"No, but a properly equipped phone can receive a signal from Earth," Moira replied. Finally, an actual sentence from her! "And before you ask, no, I don't have mine on me. I left it in my room to charge. I can't say I anticipated a one-way trip to the Abyss when I left to check on a certain contractor in training."

"You don't have a burner phone inside your shield? Just in case?" John asked. He chose to let her thorny response go uncontested.

"A burner phone?" she asked.

"Yeah," John raised a brow. "You know, a one and done, prepaid piece of crap just for emergencies? Well, emergencies and **** dealers, I guess. And hitmen."

"I am definitively not on the same level as some mundane criminal!" Moira raised a hand to her chest in offense. John sighed.

"That's not the point, Moira. They're for times when you don't want to be traced, or if you can't use your regular phone. Times like, you know, now." Come to think of it, John realized he should get a burner of his own if he survived this mess.

"My shield has limited storage space, I have to be prudent with it," Moira said. Her tone suggested less confidence than usual.

Or you just didn't think about it until now.

"Right," John said, rolling his eyes when Moira couldn't see. "A cell phone does take up a lot of space after all."

He ultimately regretted the quip. It earned him an indignant "Hmpf!" and a renewed silent treatment. John just couldn't resist throwing jabs at Moira. There was something about her, her haughty outlook, her imperious demeanor, or maybe the strength of her reactions that insisted he be a nuisance to her regardless of how unwise it might be. It also showed that she wasn't invincible. Being able to get under Moira's skin made her feel to John more like the peer she was supposed to be and less like the unreachable paragon of pious justice she was propped up as. Plus, the way her cheeks flushed when he got one up on her was pretty cute.

The tedium of nearly identical cavern passages and the steady rhythm of their footsteps had set in faster after the brief spat of conversation. Only about another half hour had passed before John attempted to reestablish communication. Moira was just crossing into the opening of a larger hollow when he spoke up once more.

"Hey, do you know where we are?" he asked, choosing not to tack on something like 'Or have we just been wandering around for the last few hours?'

"I had an idea, but now I know for certain." Moira turned around and gestured to something to her right, beyond the threshold. "Look."

John stepped out to find that the ground to the left dropped away in a sheer cliff only a few feet from where he stood. He couldn't guess how far down it went because the cliff face vanished into a blanket of mist partway down, but it would be a lethal fall even if the ground was just below the wispy surface. Far beyond, where the mist thinned, John was shocked to find a canopy of trees. Actual, thriving jungle trees, broken up only by the tops of ancient looking ziggurats that peeked through the foliage. He could hear echoes of the myriad sounds of life in the distance, birds and insects and all sorts of unknown animal calls. Above, well above even the ceiling of where John stood, white crystals that glimmered like starlight dotted the dark, stone roof, dwarfed by a protruding formation of immeasurable size, glowing gently at the zenith of the strange ecosystem. Its light drove away the surrounding mists, and bathed everything in a simulacrum of moonlight.

"Please tell me we don't have to go down there," John all but whimpered. Getting down alive would be a miracle, and jungles were not typically known for being safe and hospitable environments either. He dreaded to think how dangerous a magical jungle would be.

"No," Moira shook her head, "that's the Sunken Wild. There's nothing there but a host of reptilian monstrosities and the ghosts of a civilization that left us nothing to remember them by. Today, it is little more than a landmark."

"Hooray, some good news," John said with an utter lack of enthusiasm. Nothing about the place sounded inviting, especially not the possibly literal ghosts. His eyes followed the walls encircling the jungle, uneven and peppered with countless large alcoves like the one they currently stood in. One such even had a waterfall pouring into mists below, churning them like a simmering stew. "So, this means we're good, right? You know where to go?"

"Yes," Moira replied. "I have my bearings, more or less. If we proceed Abyssal East, with the forest to our backs, we should find a much larger system of caverns. If you can get us through there, I'll be able to guide us to a Gate that connects to the manor grounds. You'd best be on your guard from here on out, however. We'll be passing through Gnoll territory."

"Gnolls? As in the ravenous hyenamen who eat any and everything they find, including each other?" John swallowed. "Those Gnolls?"

"Yes, those Gnolls." Moira cast a glance back toward John. "Although I have to say I'm impressed with your familiarity. Seems like you've been keeping up on your reading."

"Yeah," John faked confidence, "I digest reading material pretty quickly."

Dungeons and Dragons sourcebooks in this case, but you don't need to know about that.

John approached the narrow passageway that Moira was indicating once he realized that she wasn't going to move until he took point. He paused and rested a hand on the edge.

"Any tips for dealing with them?"

"They have a thick hide and thicker fur, but roughly the same **** points as most humanoid creatures: joints, neck, head, groin, and stomach," she replied. "That makes it all the more critical to aim for where the flesh is thin and fur soft, unless you have a weapon that crushes rather than cuts." Moira provided an example by pulling her oversized hammer out of her shield. "Besides that, don't let them fool you. Gnolls are barely intelligent enough to comprehend written language, but they are quick witted and sly. Don't expect to pull the same trick on them twice, either."

"Gotcha, thanks." John nodded as he took a knife in hand and stepped into the darkness. He was surprised by how forthcoming Moira was with information. It would have been more in character, he felt, for her to tell him to figure it out on his own or simply say nothing at all. Either way, John didn't want to let her see how grateful he was for the advice.

The environment changed significantly after only a short few minutes of walking. The caverns were far taller, wide enough that he could not see one wall from the other, and littered with stalagmites and uneven rock formations. They were also warmer and damper, and mossy by consequence. The cold grey of the stone floor was carpeted by green more often than not, and the walls were slick with it. The illuminated crystals were fewer and further between, much denser above than below, and dimmer as well. Enough light remained that John could still see where he was going, but not much further beyond. Overall, this situation was an improvement over the complete darkness of Rockscale Canyon, but not exactly ideal, either.

"Gnolls can see in the dark, right?" John asked.

"Yes, and they have a strong sense of smell as well," Moira replied. "Fortunately, their hearing is little better than ours, but the lighting still puts us at a distinct disadvantage. I'd expect an ambush sooner or later if I were you, they'll catch our scent long before we see them."

"I'll keep that in mind," John said, as neutral as possible. The air here was less stagnant than before; a constant, subtle breeze flowed through the corridors, and the two were upwind. “Will you at least warn me if you see something before I do?”

“Like that?” Moira pointed into the darkness beyond. John followed with his eyes, but saw nothing of note.

“Like wha-JESUSSHITCHRIST!” John half spun, half stumbled out of the way of an arrow that screamed through the darkness, headed directly for him. For an indiscernible reason, John turned to watch the poor quality arrow break apart against a stone wall far behind. Another shattered upon Moira's shield.

"Good luck," Moira said, wearing a self-satisfied smile. "I'd find cover, if I were you."

"Wow, what an idea!" John swore beneath his breath as he dove towards a fallen, surprisingly thick, stalagmite. "I never would have thought of it on my own!" He cursed again as his momentum carried him further than he expected and he had to shove himself back behind relative safety before another arrow could introduce itself to his skull. Moira, meanwhile, did no such thing. She stood precisely where she had when the first arrow had been loosed, quietly deflecting shots as if they were snowballs. She made it look easy. Even considering the size of her shield, there had to be an active effort to protect herself, but her posture and expression showed no such focus or discipline. Moira could even spare to glance at John while her arm maneuvered her shield in short, staccato bursts to position itself correctly. She looked, frankly, bored. The Gnolls must have realized the futility of their effort because everything fell silent after about a dozen or so broken arrows.

"Well?" Moira pressed John with her gaze. "Now what are you going to do?"

"Fuck if I know, I'm pinned!" John spat back. It was hard to focus. His heart was already pumping hard enough that he could hear it, and he could feel himself breaking out into a nervous sweat. "This is usually the part where the hero calls for backup!"

"Pity then, that you have none," Moira said. Her tone was chilled and probing, eerily similar to Wentworth. Adding to that, John hated the way she was looking down on him, even if it was only because he was literally beneath her. A curious arrow, testing to see if it could find purchase now that she was distracted, soared overhead as Moira sidestepped it with nary a glance. "You're not giving up so easily, are you?"

"Give me a second to think, okay?" John griped. The first thing he had to do was calm down, he knew that much.

"The Gnolls are likely rethinking their strategy at the moment," Moira replied. "Now's the time to plan yours."

John closed his eyes and did his best to ignore her. He remembered the sheer, pants-wetting panic back in Rockscale Valley and compared it to how he felt now. His current dilemma didn't even come close, and that realization helped him get his wits in order. It was time to assess the situation in earnest. The deck was stacked in the Gnolls' favor; they had better positioning, ranged weaponry, and sight where he was blind past a few meters. John's only advantages were his intellect and superior equipment, so those had to be the center of his scheming. First things first, John needed to know what exactly he was up against. While he couldn't see his enemies to count, and Lifesense had too short of a range to help, there was one other way, risky as it was. Using adrenaline to suppress his self preservation instincts, John popped his head up and clear from the cover. The speed at which he emulated a game of whack-a-mole actually hurt his neck; there was an audible pop and a lingering ache as John fought his own inertia to yank his head back down. Painful as it was, it did no real damage, and he focused through it to take note of the arrows that flew through the space his head had previously occupied and the pair of sharp cracks that marked the end of their flight.

"So, just two of them," he remarked to himself. "And, judging by where they landed…" John drew an imaginary line from where the broken arrows lay to his location, then extended that line in his head, through his memory of what little he could see of the cavern ahead, "...they're pretty far apart, too."

"Good," Moira said. The sound startled John; he'd earnestly forgotten she was there for a moment. He'd meant to be mumbling to himself, not narrating his thoughts for Teacher. Sighing, he put her out of mind again and focused on his second advantage, technology, specifically. Pulling his phone out of his inventory, John lowered the brightness and opened the camera. Slowly, ever so slowly, he nudged it past his impromptu barrier, aimed where he surmised one of the Gnolls to be. No arrows flew to blast it from his grip. Steadily as he could, he tapped through the menu to turn on night mode and watched the screen light up with dull blue shapes as the camera struggled to pick up what trace amounts of light it could. Among them, barely distinguishable from the surroundings, a vaguely humanoid shape crept closer. It was large, hunched, and moving at an angle, keeping away from the center of the cavern. John could make out the silhouette of the bow: long, slender, and held at the ready. Maybe, if he squinted and waited long enough for it to get a little closer, John could discern what else the Gnoll carried, but he didn't want to waste time. He withdrew his phone and changed the camera's settings while rising to a crouch.

"Hey, Moira," he whispered. She had been watching with interest, but her expression grew sour at being addressed.

"What?" she said.

"Smile."

John closed his eyes and hit the shutter on his camera. Were they open, he would have seen Moira bewildered by the sudden flash of brilliant white. He would have also seen how it caused her to stagger, and how beams of that light reflected off the flawless polish of her shield in every direction. He did not need to see that, however, nor did he need the light to blind his opponents. All he needed was to hear the inevitable whistling of arrows. He was already running by the time a pair of metallic dings rang out, charging headlong into the darkness.