Her screams were weaker: much weaker. How long had it been since he first heard them? 6 hours? He could barely make her out. It was the very edge of even his dark vision. A tiny emaciated figure in filthy rags cowering behind a rusted bed frame. And three giant zombies mindlessly pawing at her cage.
And between him and them -- another damned cell door. The gnome bared his teeth and gripped his sickle. Which was worse: what this plague has done to the dead... Navarre sighed, and turned back to look at the group of "heroes" digging
through the corpses and corpse pieces in the previous room ... or the living?
He saw the centaur youth approach the "treasure room" from the other corridor and stare listlessly at the Grand Guignol, but make no move to join them. He was probably in shock. None of them had behanved well around the young warrior coming to grips with his father's transformation - himself included, Navarre had to admit. But when a warlock started lecturing Navarre on having the moral high ground because he was partnered with a cleric whereas the gnome was "only" a paladin? HA! Who was focused on saving the girl and who was sifting through entrails looking for baubles?
He would ask - just once more - to borrow one of their TWO sets of keys. If they had descended so far into scavenge mentality not to recognize the greater need here, then he wasn't sure they would be worth staying with, despite their obvious strengths against both the undead and the city butchers.
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