Deeper Still

"𝒯𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝓇ℯ𝒶𝓈ℴ𝓃 𝓌𝒽𝓎 𝓉𝒽ℯ𝓎 𝒶𝓇ℯ 𝓃ℴ𝓉 𝒻𝒶𝓁𝓁ℯ𝓃 𝒶𝓁𝓇ℯ𝒶𝒹𝓎 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒹ℴ 𝓃ℴ𝓉 𝒻𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝓃ℴ𝓌 𝒾𝓈 ℴ𝓃𝓁𝓎 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒢ℴ𝒹’𝓈 𝒶𝓅𝓅ℴ𝒾𝓃𝓉ℯ𝒹 𝓉𝒾𝓂ℯ 𝒾𝓈 𝓃ℴ𝓉 𝒸ℴ𝓂ℯ. ℱℴ𝓇 𝒾𝓉 𝒾𝓈 𝓈𝒶𝒾𝒹, 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓌𝒽ℯ𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒹𝓊ℯ 𝓉𝒾𝓂ℯ, ℴ𝓇 𝒶𝓅𝓅ℴ𝒾𝓃𝓉ℯ𝒹 𝓉𝒾𝓂ℯ 𝒸ℴ𝓂ℯ𝓈, 𝓉𝒽ℯ𝒾𝓇 𝒻ℴℴ𝓉 𝓈𝒽𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝓈𝓁𝒾𝒹ℯ. 𝒯𝒽ℯ𝓃 𝓉𝒽ℯ𝓎 𝓈𝒽𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝒷ℯ 𝓁ℯ𝒻𝓉 𝓉ℴ 𝒻𝒶𝓁𝓁, 𝒶𝓈 𝓉𝒽ℯ𝓎 𝒶𝓇ℯ 𝒾𝓃𝒸𝓁𝒾𝓃ℯ𝒹 𝒷𝓎 𝓉𝒽ℯ𝒾𝓇 ℴ𝓌𝓃 𝓌ℯ𝒾ℊ𝒽𝓉. 𝒢ℴ𝒹 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝓃ℴ𝓉 𝒽ℴ𝓁𝒹 𝓉𝒽ℯ𝓂 𝓊𝓅 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽ℯ𝓈ℯ 𝓈𝓁𝒾𝓅𝓅ℯ𝓇𝓎 𝓅𝓁𝒶𝒸ℯ𝓈 𝒶𝓃𝓎 𝓁ℴ𝓃ℊℯ𝓇, 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝓁ℯ𝓉 𝓉𝒽ℯ𝓂 ℊℴ; 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝒽ℯ𝓃, 𝒶𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓋ℯ𝓇𝓎 𝒾𝓃𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓃𝓉, 𝓉𝒽ℯ𝓎 𝓈𝒽𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝒻𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝒾𝓃𝓉ℴ 𝒹ℯ𝓈𝓉𝓇𝓊𝒸𝓉𝒾ℴ𝓃; 𝒶𝓈 𝒽ℯ 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓃𝒹𝓈 ℴ𝓃 𝓈𝓊𝒸𝒽 𝓈𝓁𝒾𝓅𝓅ℯ𝓇𝓎 𝒹ℯ𝒸𝓁𝒾𝓃𝒾𝓃ℊ ℊ𝓇ℴ𝓊𝓃𝒹, ℴ𝓃 𝓉𝒽ℯ ℯ𝒹ℊℯ ℴ𝒻 𝒶 𝓅𝒾𝓉, 𝒽ℯ 𝒸𝒶𝓃𝓃ℴ𝓉 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒶𝓁ℴ𝓃ℯ, 𝓌𝒽ℯ𝓃 𝒽ℯ 𝒾𝓈 𝓁ℯ𝓉 ℊℴ 𝒽ℯ 𝒾𝓂𝓂ℯ𝒹𝒾𝒶𝓉ℯ𝓁𝓎 𝒻𝒶𝓁𝓁𝓈 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒾𝓈 𝓁ℴ𝓈𝓉."

4 Enfields 1:4

The yellow mushrooms along the wall glowed slightly as Bräk regained his footing from his seemingly near-death battle. They wound down through the floor and into some place deeper and darker. As they lit the wall, a young blonde woman turned and frowned. "Mycete is dead," she said, turning to face her companion. "We will need to go and bring her forth again as we did Halorin."

"Shall I fetch her body? They typically return back better fresh." The tall man took his square jaw in his armored hand thoughtfully. He stroked his beard for just a moment before the obvious question fell across his face in a brief flash of shock. "Wait...who would have done it?"

"That is what I wonder. I doubt it's the animal life. Still, we have work to do here. The fusion isn't quite right. We still have no working sample to bring back to our lord." She turned back to her work, lining the floor carefully with a burgundy mixture from a gourd she carried. "Still, if there is some trouble, I'm sure it will find its way to us. Maybe one's strong enough to make their way through Mycete will be the vessels we've been looking for since the folks from Orlane seem far too brittle."

"Do you think Halorin was felled as well?" He took up his warhammer that had been resting up against the wall.

"Regardless, either soon he will bring us their bodies, or they will bring their bodies to us. For now, let us just do our work."