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Grez crawled over towards the walking cane she had put beside the door.
She used it to steady herself, wobblily trying to get up. The floorboards protested under the half-orc’s weight at a single spot.
One hand resting on the cane, the other she extended towards the solitary candle she had just lit after hearing the noise.
The cane slipped out from under her and provided the floor with a deep scratch.
Reflexes are a powerful thing. A quick movement made without interference of the mind.
The mind, however, would’ve had an opinion on this particular manoeuvre.
In an attempt to catch herself, she put her full weight on the foot with the pulverised toes and sucked in her lips as the pain hit her.
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There was a bunch of falling, whimpering, and muffled moans of pain coming from the other chamber.
The goblin scout used the moment to sneak into the hallway and slip into the first chamber on the right.
It opened and closed the door with barely a sound, not that much could’ve been heard over the noise of fat raindrops beating away at the walls, shutters, and roof.
The pattern continued, the room was fairly bare safe for a solid, wooden desk that likely weighed into the hundreds of pounds.
Whatever chair had belonged to it was missing. There was a large bookcase that dominated the right-hand wall, half the contents were on the floor.
One of the hinges of the shutters in this room had long since given up, the shutter itself at the mercy of the wind.
Open, close. Open, close. Rain sprayed through window at regular intervals, turning the books into mush.
The room was held together by, what would’ve once been, a fancy looking carpet that squelched under the footfalls of the goblin.
A door opened in the distance. There was a gasp, followed by a moment of silence.
”Grez,” said Ben, barely audible through the walls and the noise of the rain, “How are you alive?”
The message was repeated, but the tone was different, “How the <span class="mu-s">fuck</span> are you alive?”
Grez’s face was a mixture of fear and relief, “B-ben,” she said, clutching her cane and trying to get to her feet.
Ben marched forward, anger clear on his face, and kicked the cane out from under Grez.
She, once again, went plummeting to the floor. He almost went down himself, but stumbled himself back into balance.
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“Ugh,” said the Scholar, “The poor girl cannot catch a break.”
“I know, right?” replied the Sadist, smiling, “Isn’t it amazing?”
