They stood at the edge of the door that would lead to the eighth room and they knew that it would only get harder but no other choice provided itself.
"I'll go first, if there's any immediate danger I'll alert you when you enter behind me." Belialthorn had asked Rota to redress his wound, to bind his left hand to his chest so now he didn't have to worry about it swinging unless by his side.
He raised his sword, it was thin with the lightness made only for one-handed weapons. Belialthorn took a deep breath and entered the eighth room.
There was no immediate danger. The room was damp and the air smelled of a cold old place, small blue crystals were set into the walls, lighting the room.
Lighting the hundreds of dark furred balls on the floor. Thousands of them.
"A cave this time?" Rota asked, her voice hushed.
