Grime and sticky, oozing slime covered all four of the Coursers as they ploughed on through the darkness, glad to be on a flat surface once more. Thankfully, Karlach always carried matches and oil, and soon they were once more bathed in the soft, flickering light of their torches as they followed the meandering path.

Aislinn was shivering, more from the lingering adrenaline than from any real chill. Even so, Karlach stayed close to her, hoping her body heat might help. Wolf, usually there with a grin on his lips and that ever charming fire in his eyes, was quiet, flicking one hoof after the other as though that might dispel the murk that clung to them.

A sudden, chilling gust of wind clawed through the air and their torches guttered out. Plunging them into oblivion.

“Shit,” Karlach muttered from somewhere off to Castalla’s left.

“Everyone stay together.” Castalla nudged into Wolf, hoping Karlach was still close to Aislinn.

A low, sharp groaning filled the air and the ground beneath the hooves shuddered, then trembled and then began to move. Castalla found her left and right legs separating, as thought the very stones she stood upon were rent open. She hopped onto one side, glad of the grace and balance she'd spent her youth honing. Somewhere in the darkness she could hear Karlach cursing under her breath, the sound of a match striking lint just audible over the rumble of the ground beneath them.

"Guys?" Wolf called out, his voice uncertain, his visage swallowed by darkness. Cool air whooshed from below and though the inpenetrable gloom covered all, an abyss yawned beneath them.

"Just, stay still, and try to keep your balance," Castalla called out, frustration edging into her voice. There was nothing she could do her, it was not a threat she could defeat by fighting, and the darkness was so thick she couldn't even see her own hooves, let alone her friends.