Our lips entwined as lush beard tingles lush beard, sturdy arms groping with fever, the pull of my lips as they are pressed and smothered by her teeth, the smell of the forge; the distinct smell of molten steel makes the dream all the more erotic.

I awake-

Alone and greeted by the affects of my injuries, fits of gurgles and moans. I do not know why I dream of her so much, In the cave she did not haunt me so. Perhaps it is because my mind wanders on others now, is she mad?

We should have been less haughty, this underdark was the cause of our demise.

Woe.

Murk Ettinender.