Having already experienced a fall with Feather Fall once, Renato did not lose consciousness this time. He landed steadily on the rubble, bending his knees to absorb the impact, then quickly surveyed his surroundings.
He opened the Adventurer's Guide. His health had barely dropped. He had been lucky enough to avoid being struck by any large falling rocks.
Renato rolled his shoulders and neck. The small scratches on his face were healing before his eyes. The excess vitality granted by Touch of Dakoul was still repairing his body; the shallow wounds soon scabbed over, peeled away, and revealed fresh skin.
The rubble-filled underground space was not dark. The Mind Ripper at Balin's waist was still burning, bright flames rising from the torch's tip and casting a gentle glow.
Overhead, an enormous slab of rock had fallen at an angle and wedged itself between the sides of the fissure. It blocked most of the rocks that followed, while preserving precious space for the three of them to survive.
Yet there was no joy at having survived the disaster. Instead, tension filled the cramped space.
The runes on Balin's warhammer flickered. The successive battles had done nothing to diminish the rock-tough old dwarf.
His eyes narrowed, fixed firmly on the drow priestess as he advanced step by step.
The space was too cramped for her adamantine whip. With nowhere left to retreat, Tristana pressed her back against the stone wall, drew a dagger from inside her clothes, and held it across her body in defiance.
Carrying the Silent Lady, Renato approached slowly from the right, cutting off her only escape route. With one on either side, they hemmed the female drow in between them.
Tristana spoke first:
"I am of Nightbrize's noble blood, the fourth daughter of the Nightwind Family..."
"Shut up,