Chapter 3
by 
Yelawolf
The party goes to...
The temple
The temple looms ahead, its ancient stone walls cracked and overgrown with vines. The air is thick with the scent of damp earth and decay, and the faint sound of dripping water echoes from within. Shadowheart leads the way, her movements cautious but determined. Lae’zel follows close behind, her sharp eyes scanning for threats. You bring up the rear, your senses on high alert.
As you step inside, the dim light filtering through the broken roof reveals a cavernous hall, its walls adorned with faded murals and crumbling statues. The atmosphere is heavy with history—and something else. Something darker.
Lae’zel strides ahead, her tone dismissive. “This place is a ruin. What do you hope to find here, half-elf?”
Shadowheart doesn’t look back. “Answers. Or at least a place to regroup. Unless you’d rather stay out there and wait for more of those creatures to find us.”
Lae’zel snorts but says nothing. You, however, can’t resist a little teasing. “You know, Lae’zel,” you say, your tone light, “for someone who’s always talking about strength and honor, you sure do complain a lot.”
She turns to glare at you, her golden eyes narrowing. “I do not *complain*. I state facts. This place is a waste of time.”
You shrug, a smirk playing on your lips. “Maybe. But it’s better than standing around outside, waiting to be eaten by intellect devourers. Or are you just afraid of a little adventure?”
Her glare deepens, but there’s a flicker of something else in her expression—amusement, perhaps? “You have a strange way of speaking, istik. But do not mistake my tolerance for weakness. I am not afraid of anything.”
“Oh, I don’t doubt that,” you reply, your tone teasing. “But I have to admit, it’s kind of refreshing to see you out of your element. The great Lae’zel, brought low by a bunch of tieflings and a rusty cage.”
She steps closer, her voice low and dangerous. “Careful, istik. You tread on thin ice.”
You hold up your hands in mock surrender. “Just saying. You’re not exactly the picture of githyanki perfection right now.”
For a moment, she looks like she might strangle you. But then, to your surprise, she smirks. “You are bold. Foolish, but bold. Perhaps there is hope for you yet.”
Shadowheart, who has been watching the exchange with a raised eyebrow, finally interjects. “If you two are quite finished, we have more pressing matters to attend to.”
You glance at her, your smirk widening. “Jealous, Shadowheart?”
She rolls her eyes. “Hardly. But if you’re going to flirt, at least do it quietly. We’re not exactly in the safest place.”
Lae’zel snorts. “Flirt? Do not be absurd. I have no interest in such trivialities.”
You can’t help but laugh. “Trivialities? Come on, Lae’zel. Admit it. You’re starting to like me.”
She glares at you again, but there’s a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Do not push your luck, istik.”
As the three of you move deeper into the temple, the atmosphere grows heavier. The walls seem to close in, and the air is thick with the scent of something ancient and forgotten. Shadowheart pauses at a set of large, ornate doors, her expression thoughtful.
“This is it,” she says. “Whatever we’re looking for, it’s behind these doors.”
Lae’zel steps forward, her hand resting on the hilt of her sword. “Then let us not waste any more time.”
You nod, your playful demeanor fading as the gravity of the situation sets in. “Let’s do this.”