The floor of the long hallway drops as the passage erupts in a bright orange glow and a blast of infernal heat.
Two of the explorers suddenly plunged into boiling lava below.
Hijo the factotum never resurfaced, believed to have died the moment he was swallowed by the lava, roasted alive.
Tore the Troll watched helpless in morbid fear as his best friend vanished into the pool of lava as well.
Using his large size to push past everyone, and with no regard for his own safety, he reached his hand into the red melted stone and iron and grabbed Faustwiil's body, pulling him free of the lava, only to discover that the gnome had died the moment he became immersed in the lava.
Tore stands motionless in disbelief, looking at the charred husk of what was his friend only moments before, as the molten red substance solidifies and cools into a black shell over most of the body of his long time buddy. He hardly even notices the healing spells being applied to the gnome by the others in hope that just maybe something will revive him.
After some time he finally turns around to look at the others. They are all resting now, sleeping. How long has he been communing with his friend in silence? For the first time, he examines the the burn-scar on his hand and forearm, a scar he knows will not heal naturally, even with his troll regeneration.
His mind recalls how he had wanted to show his friend today what he had learned to do recently. But things had been so busy, as they always were. He had been practicing writing his friend's name in Gnomish, as he had seen the gnome write it so many times. Look. Look what I learned today, Faustwiil, he thinks as he carves an epitaph of sorts into the black burned flesh of his forearm:
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