You manage to keep calm, if only barely.

"M-master?", you hear being uttered out beside you in a high-pitched voice, fear and apprehension clear in the tiny voice beside you, and it is that voice that snaps you out of your rage.

You shake yourself from your anger, finding that you had already been stalking forward with your hands clenched into fists and your face contorted into a mask of hate and rage. Anger and dark energy had been radiating off of you in waves and it was that which had caused the apprehension in your diminutive companion on your shoulder. And it was that apprehension in her voice that had pulled you back to your senses, making you think that perhaps you were still more human than you had thought if a woman's fearful voice could still cool your temper and inspire in you a need to reassure her.

"It's okay, Petra. I'm all right. Go now and hide yourself. I'm going to move closer.", you tell her and, after a moment of hesitation, she complies as she flutters off of your shoulder and towards the stone wall. She flies to the wall and, just as it looks like she's going to slam into it, she instead sinks into the stone as though it were water rather than solid rock. You suppose that is a talent she possesses due to her being a fairy of the earth, but you do not think overmuch about it as you start to move towards the dwarves' camp, moving stealthily once more as your anger has been effectively leashed...for the moment, anyway.

You creep forward, moving from stalagmite to boulder to anything else you can use to cover your approach. And, as you approach, you continue to listen to the conversation between the dwarves.

"It is better this way for now anyway.", Rolf is saying at that moment, "We have relative safety and cover in this cave and that is better than being stuck out there in that dark wilderness."

"I-I suppose that is true, Master.", Asta replies as she serves up a bowl of a thick stew to her master, the dwarven warrior grasping the bowl roughly from his squire as she approaches, "B-but should we not at least make the attempt to find the others? It has been days since we've seen anybody else, after all."

"Bah, those weaklings? They've probably perished by now. It's doubtful that such soft excuses for warriors could survive out there on their own for even a day, let alone five.", Rolf replies as he sloppily begins to eat.

Five days? Had five days passed since you'd been betrayed and the tower the Artifact had been kept in had collapsed? It hardly seemed that long, but, as you had been ****, who could say, really? You could have been out for five days, but, if that was the case, how did you survive for so long without being torn asunder by the more feral denizens of the caverns you had sensed in passing while traveling through the tunnels? Would a passed out human not seem perfect prey to them?

The answer, you already know, is right in your hand...or on your right hand, rather. It was the gauntlet, the Artifact that had bound itself to you. Obviously, its power had kept you safe, probably while it was healing your body and binding itself to your arm. You looked thoughtfully at the gauntlet and wondered, not for the first time you admit to yourself, if it was less a curse than you believed. Perhaps, evil though its power may be, it could be seen as an asset. Or perhaps ally is more accurate, given the sentience the naiad said it possessed and you had felt in your darkest or more base moments.

You put that aside to think on later as you turn your attention back to the dwarves, the pair having been eating while you thought. Or at least Rolf had been. Asta had appeared to been pondering something silently before, finally, gathering up enough courage to speak again.

"I, er, I agree, Master, that is unlikely that they could survive without your axe to guard them, but we...we should still look, shouldn't we?", she asked and winced back as Rolf turned his eyes towards her in a glare.

"I have already spoken on this matter, girl. Do not push anymore than that.", he warned, but she seemed intent on speaking on this subject.

"M-master, please! We should search for them. They are allies. And perhaps he...they are still alive somewhere.", she states, her slip of the tongue making it clear that she is more concerned for an individual than the party as a whole and that slip does not go unnoticed by Rolf as his glare becomes deadly and he tosses down his bowl with a clatter in order to grab his apprentice roughly by the hair.

"He, you say? You foolish, disloyal bitch! You're still thinking about that damned human, aren't you? That weak excuse for a knight? You're still holding onto that foolish infatuation you have with him?", he growls at her, yanking on her hair hard enough to make her cry out, "Let me make it clear. He. Is. DEAD. There was no chance he survived. He was wounded already and then fell with the tower. He is gone, you fool girl. He was far too weak to survive such a thing. He did not have the strength."

"He...he had strength enough to take your hand, didn't he?!", she yelled out, her temper seeming to get the better of her. Which she seemed to regret seconds later as she clapped a hand over her mouth and looked to her master with wide eyes.

"You fucking bitch! How DARE you!?", he roars as he slaps her hard enough to send her to her knees, "You dare speak to me in such a way?! Maybe I should have let them sacrifice you instead! It would save me from your venomous, traitorous tongue! If you're going to flap your lips in such a manner, maybe it's time I teach you the proper way a worthless slut like you should be putting her mouth to use again."

"No, Master! Please! I-I'm sorry! Don't do that again. I-I've already s-serviced you twice today! No more, please! No more!", Asta cries, but Rolf grabs her roughly by the chin and turns her towards him with a sneer.

"Shut up, bitch. You live only because I will it, or have you forgotten who owns you?", he growls as he slaps her once more before reaching down towards the laces of his breeches, his intentions quite clear as his servant begins to weep silent, bitter tears.

You, at this point, have come right up to the edge of the camp and you feel emotions warring in you. You feel a sense of twisted vindication in seeing the dwarves' infighting, but then you feel a strange warmth in your heart at the way Asta had seemed to still believe in your survival. You felt rage at the warrior's behavior, but also a dark and skewed feeling of arousal that you couldn't deny as you watched the dwarf warrior prepare to have his way with his squire. Your emotions were snarled and swirling, the darker emotions inspired by the gauntlet and your own anger mixing with your still lingering sense of knightly duty and humanity. You crouched there at the edge of the camp, hidden from view, and there was a part of you that wanted to remain there and let what was going to happen come to pass, both for a strategic advantage of catching the dwarf off guard and a dark feeling of desire. But then there was another part of you that wanted to leap out and make your presence known, to interrupt the lascivious activities Rolf had in mind.

You teetered on the edge of action, not knowing whether to go or wait, but you knew you had to decide quickly if you were going to act at all.