The pain in my head subsided just long enough for me to remember what had happened to cause me to dream of better days.
I'd had a vision about a white wolf pinning Liara Lockwood on the craggy ground, which I assumed had been a visit from a fylgja. The purpose of this spiritual guide's visit—if that's even what that was—eluded me. Immediately after that weird-ass vision, I was attacked by something that shouldn't have appeared outside the dungeon's innermost depths—the monster at the heart of Grendel's Grotto.
As I crawled to my knees on the floor—my palms scraping against a carpet of sharp stone—I recalled how Grendel had slammed me into the wall and cracked the back of my head against the rock with a single mighty swing of its beefy arm.
"Ugh…" I groaned. "Bastard hit me so hard I got swept up in a hugr…"
