All of a sudden, George yelled, “Shyla! Get off him!”
The creature dropped from Bard’s back and ran and cowered in a corner of the cavern.
“Shyla, it is me, George. There is nothing to be afraid of. Nobody is going to hurt you.”
“George?” a scared female voice answered. “It cannot be, George is dead.”
“No it is me. You had heard wrong. I got away. Please come out and we can talk.”
A female, smaller than George, timidly approached the two. She looked at him. She started weeping. “I cannot believe it! It is you. I was told that you jumped in a river and drowned.”
“My friend only said that to protect me.”
The girl stepped closer. Bard saw that despite her disheveled hair and haggard face, that she was very pretty. No wonder why George was in love with her.
“Is he your friend?” Shyla looked at Bard.
“I hope so,” George said.
“He actually is more like a little brother,” Bard replied.
“Shyla, what happened to you. I returned to the thieving guild and you were gone. How did you end up in the caverns? How have you been surviving?”
“When I though you were dead, I could not stay there. I decided to make it out on my own. You know how I was as a thief. Well, I decided to join a group coming this way and not tell them how bad I was.”
“We saw bodies when we first entered.”
“Yes, it is a shame that I never got to know them. I did not even know their names. I, more or less kept to my self. Well, it seemed that they knew less about their skills than I did about thieving. We were attacked as soon as we entered the caverns. I was the only one who got away alive.”
“Why are you still here?” Bard asked.
“I did not pay attention when we were traveling. The forest is so boi, I knew I would get lost as soon as I got one hundred yards away.My mind was always on you George and filled with bitterness for how that thief set you up.”
“I do want to find him some day and get even with him.”
“Oh, you do not have to worry about that,” Shyla said. “You may not realize this but you had many friends at the thieving guild. Joseph was caught with important confidential government papers. Now he is in prison and will nto see the sun for a long time.”
“Who set him up?”
Shyla grinned.
“You were not a good thief. However, you always did an excellent job in getting even with people.”
“Yes, I remember those pranks you played on me. Then I would always come up with something better.”
“How long have you been in the caverns?” Bard asked.
“Three months.”
“How have you been surviving? What have you been eating?” George shuddered as he picture her eating spider eggs.
“I have been getting food, mostly wheat and flour from the storeroom.”
“That must have been your footprint we saw.”
“Why are you in the lower level. It seems toi be dangerous. I even want to get out of here,” Bard said.
“How did you ever get down here?” George asked. “Bard was almost melted by the ochre jelly.”
“I fell through a trapdoor on the upper level,” Shyla said. “I landed in the pool of water.”
George embraced Shyla. “I am never going to let you go again,” he said sobbing, not ashamed that Bard saw him like this. “I love you Shyla. I wished I had told you this before.”
Shyla reached up with her hand and gently caressed his tear-wet cheek. “George, I love you also. I never told you because I did not think that you had the same feelings. I thought you just saw us as friends and nothing else.”
“Shyla, you are shivering.” He took a blanket out of his bag. He was thankful that Britt had suggested this before going to the lower level. He had known it would be cold and damp.”
Bard reached into his bag and pulled out several cans of C-Rations. “Before we move on, we should rest and get something to eat. I am sure shyla would want something better than stale food.”
They sat eating the food quietly. George kept his arm around Shyla’s shoulder, determined to protect her in what ever way he could. His fear of being in the lower level was gone now that he had his Shyla back. Bard stood watch while George and Shyla slept. While he knew the protection blankets would protect them from wandering mosters and other unpleasant things, he wanted to watch for Britt and the others. Still, it was getting colder down here by the second. Putting his own blanket on him, he sat down next to George. The warmth of the blanket chased away the chills.

“Wake up, Bard!” Bard slowly opened his eyes as a boot nudged him gently in the legs.
Britt was grinning down at him. The others were here with his im the chamber.
Bard rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He had not meant to fll asleep. “How did you find us?” he asked.
“Boy, your snoring is loud enough to wake the dead!” Britt laughed.
Bard reached over to the two snuggled up next to him. Gently shaking the thief, he said, “George, wake up. Britt found us.”
The thief mumbled, “Leave us alone, we are trying to sleep.” There was silence that a small snore. Then all of a sudden George sat straight up. “Was I dreaming or did you say Britt is here?”
“What am I going to do with you, George?” Britt asked. “You are always getting into trouble.”
George ran to the dwarf and embraced him. “I though that I would never see you again.”
“Please,” the dwarf said. “Do not scare us again like that. You had us all worried. It is a good thing Bard was with you.”
“Thanks to George, I was almost eaten by a spider.”
Britt looked over to George’s blanket and saw that it was trying to move. “Okay George, what are you hiding? I thought I told you that you can have no more pets.”
George ran over to the blanket and gently shook Shyla. “Shyla, wake up. We found our friends.”
A young woman, slightly smaller than George sat up and began rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.
Britt was thunderstruck, “Is that...? It cannot be.”
“Yes this is Shyla. Those were her footprints we found upstairs.”
By now Shyla was standing and looking around.
“This is Shyla and these are my friends. You already met Bard and this is Britt, who is a father to me.”
Shyla smiled shyly at the dwarf and then her eyes fell on the familiar robes that magic users wore. She stared an Balon an began to back slowly away in fear.
George did not notice and continued to introduce the others. This is Johanna; she is a cleric and this…Shyla, what is wrong?”
She continued to stare at Balon. “It is you!” she hissed. “Stay away from me!” She ran and cowered in the corner of the cavern.
“Shyla!” George ran over to her. “Balon is my friend. He will not hurt you.” He looked to Balon and saw that he had lowered his head and slumped to the ground in despair.
“He…he…he…killed the others.” Shyla started sobbing hysterically and allGeorge could do was hold her and comfort her. He looked at the others. Even though he did not say anything, his eyes said, “Help me.”
Johanna approached and said. “Balon is kind and gentle. He will not hurt you.”
Balon stood and approached the others. He stopped a respectful distance away. Shyla saw in the light that he had tears running down his cheeks.
“Please,” said the magic-user dejectedly. “If I have done you any wrong, let me know. If I killed someone, it was an accident. I only kill what is evil.”
“He has a blue aura,” said Massacharamar. “That means he is good and lawful. We witnessed this ourselves. He he was anything but good, his aura would have been yellow.”
Shyla licked her dry lips. “A magic-user was the main cause of their deaths.” She quickly told the others of how she got involved with the unfortunate fighter and dwarf.
“The magic-user that was with them told the berserkers to attack. He spoke in some sort of language that sounded like souls burning in hell. It was horrid; I had to cover my ears.”
“But we found the magic user impaled with a sword. It had gone rigt through his body and into the wall,” Bard said.
Shyla, not taking her eyes off Balon, said, “He impaled himself. He took the sword in his hands and thrust it right through his own heart. He was laughing when he did it.”
Balon wailed and put his head in his hands. Sobbing, he fell to the ground.
“Balon!” George and Johanna yelled at the same time and ran to him. Shyla, seeing George’s gentleness as he tried to soothe the magic-user, helped get het composed. She know knew Balon was not like the evil magic-user. She walked over to him and knelt by his side and gently rubbed his back.
Britt helped the magic-user sit up. “Have some of my wine,” he said handing him his flask.
“I promise that I will never hurt you or anybody else in this chamber. I will die first before I do!”
Shyla sat next to him and held his hand. “I know now that you are good. I am sorry that I was too harsh.” Just as George had held her, she held Balon and comforted him.
Soon Balon had composed himself. However, his face was very pale. “I promise that I will die first before I hurt any of you.”
Johanna said, “Balon, I have known you all my life. You have been a father figure and a very good friend. In all these years, you have been nothing but gentle. You have never killed or hurt anything, unless if you found it necessary.”
Balon took a deep breath. “It may explain why I was able to communicate with the orcs.. I never was able to do that before.”
“I thought you new how to speak, in the orcish tongue.”
“I can speak to orcs in the common language and they can hear me in their tounge. I spoke to the orcs in their own tounge, orcish. That is one language I do not want to learn.”
“How did you communicate, then,” Johanna asked, dreading the answer.
“I have been affected by the dead magic user’s spirit. I am afraid that his evil has entered my body. There is only one thing I can do, but leave.”
“You cannot leave us,” Johanna said. “You are our friend; you have to stay.”
“If I stay, I may bring harm to the ones close to me.”
“Your aura is blue.”
“True,” he said. “I will stay. If I leave, if the evil overtakes my goodness, I might be protecting you. However, I may be bringing harm to others. There is a way, I can protect you.” Balon, once again became the calm and gentle magic-user his friends grew acquainted with. “George, can I speak to you for a few minutes.”
The thief went to Balon and they stood to the side.
Balon reached into his robes and pulled out a dagger with jewels and carving etched on the handle. “I am giving you this. If you never have to use it, that will be good. It will be yours to keep.”
George stared at the beautiful knife. Alone, it was worth more in gold pieces than any of the other gems they had already found. “Why are you giving this to me? I do not deserve something like this.”
“Even though you are nothing but a thief, you have more courage than any other person I see. You are always alert and jump into action immediately. If you see me, or even expect me, trying to harm others in the group, you must stab this through my heart. Not only will it set me free, it will also kill the evil spirit. The blade is long enough where you can stab me right through the back.”
“I cannot do that,” George said.
“I hope you never have to do that,” the magic-user returned. “You may wonder why I am carrying this knife.”