Splat was following behind Terrence closely. The second level of the dungeons was putting him on edge, especially considering he'd only ever been on the first level the few times he had stepped hoof into the dungeon. He was jumping and flinching at every little sound as the pair made their way through the blazing temperatures of the furnace.
Terrence stopped suddenly with a sigh.
"If you are on my ass the entire way through the dungeon, we will make no progress," the seasoned mercenary pointed out, looking at Splat. The grey gave a sheepish nod, and let Terrence get a few paces ahead of him.
Not even a moment after they started walking again, Splat froze, staring at what looked like a tiny version of the remains he'd seen. He hadn't even noticed the blackened vines and flowers that now adorned the dungeon's walls, which had not been there the last time he had entered.
"The Forggee? The FORGE?" The misty specter repeated before disappearing as quickly as it had appeared. Splat stayed rooted in his spot, shaking slightly. Terrence had heard the spirit but had not seen it.
"Splat, come on," he called, looking over his shoulder to see the terrified Courser. He silenced a groan at having to guide the biggest of scaredy cats through the dungeons. Maybe he needed a career change?