timorous
[tim-er-uh s]
- full of fear; fearful: The noise made them timorous.
- subject to fear; timid.
- characterized by or indicating fear: a timorous whisper.
**************************
The
dungeon was surprisingly comfortable. It
was not dark, as magical light stones lined the walls with alarming
regularity. It was not damp, as a breeze
kept it oddly fresh. The only thing that
gave any indication of its nature was the smell of blood that lingered in the
air. The entire place was silent, save
for the footsteps of a single group of adventurers who dared enter the dungeon.
“We
shouldn’t be here.” One of the adventurers, a slight young man wearing thinly
armored robes, said. He trembled as he
clutched a book in one hand and a small rod in the other.
“Oh,
lighten up, Hevi.” Another man said. This
one wore light metal armor and bore a sword strapped to his left hip. He walked with an effortless confidence, and
in no way shared his companion’s fear. “There’s
nothing in here we can’t handle.”
“I’m
sure everyone says that.” Hevi replied. “There’s
a reason they call his place the Rookie Killer, you know.”
“Uh
huh. We’ve all heard the rumors.” The
swordsman, Wiss, said while rolling his eyes.
“And we’re plenty capable of dealing with anything that pops up. If anything, we’re overpowered for this
one. It’ll be easy, you’ll see.”
Hevi
wanted to voice his doubt again, but something made a sound nearby. The mage’s words got caught in his throat and
a cold sweat ran down his back. The other
members of the party paid the sound no mind.
Suddenly, something touched his shoulder. He nearly reached the high roof of the dungeon,
he jumped so high. And that said nothing
of the scream that tore through the halls.
It was soon replaced by laughter.
“Don’t…don’t
do that!” Hevi cried out.
The one who touched him faded into
view. A young woman wearing black cloth
pulled a half face mask off, showing her smiling visage.
“I’m sorry, but I couldn’t help
myself.” She said through her laughter. “It
was too good to pass up.”
“Vin.” The final member of the
group, a huge man wearing thick plate armor and carrying a massive tower shield
on his back said. Nothing else was
needed.
“Just having a little fun is all.” Vin
said.
“Go. Scout.” The armored man
said. Vin scoffed and used the mask to
cover the lower half of her face before fading from view.
“Oh, lighten up, big guy.” Wiss
said. “It was just a little joke.”
Olis, the shield barer, said
nothing. He just kept walking. Hevi, for his part, did everything he could
to still his heart. His attempts yielded
no result.
“Look, Hevi, I don’t see why you’re
so scared.” Wiss said. “You,
especially. Of all of us, you’re
probably the only one who can solo this place.”
“Huh?” Hevi had been too distracted
by a shadow he felt was moving oddly to hear his companion’s words.
“It’s
simple, are you or are you not the greatest magical genius ever.”
“I
wouldn’t classify myself as such, no.”
“You can
learn any spell just by seeing it once.
You know spells that mages spend lifetimes learning. I mean, weren’t you up for the position of Archmage
last week.”
“Well,
yeah, but I just couldn’t accept it.”
“Because
you were too scared, I know. Look, the
point is, if any of us has nothing to be afraid of, it’s you. So why are you the only one scared?”
“Wiss. Stop.” Olis said.
“I’m
just—” The swordsman was silenced by the large man raising a gauntleted hand.
Not a
moment later, Vin reappeared, pulling down her mask as she became visible. The laughter in her face was gone.
“We’ve
got incoming. A dozen goblins, with more
on the way. I’d say they heard a certain
someone screaming and came to investigate.”
“That
was your fault, not mine.” Hevi insisted.
“Doesn’t
matter. They’re still coming. So buck up, grow a pair and get ready to
roast some gobs.”
*****************************
Been awhile since I've done a pure fantasy story, hasn't it? I should do these more often. They can be fun. Sometimes. They can also be a bit of a pain to write at times, so maybe that's why I don't.
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