Fishy Corridor

SPACESand has entered every fold and flap of your clothing and you scratch and wiggle a bit before standing. Alasdair is already awake, standing near the entrance to the corridor.
SPACESunlight pours in from the mouth of the cave. The storm is over. Looking about, everyone still seems to be present and accounted for.
SPACETharg shakes the sleep from his head like a dog, even allowing a thin line of spittle to fly from his cheek. Conner mumbles something about bacon and rolls over. With a lovingly swift kick, Tharg wakes him.
SPACEAlasdair approaches them. “Seems that water filled corridor has something fishy. We can throw some fish in the water to see if anything appears.” Alasdair sticks a thumb in Garn’s direction. “It could be handy having an escape route if those more-than-one, less-than-five fellows that left the footprints our friend saw are hostile and come to get us.”
SPACE“Mmghh…” he mutters.
SPACEPointing at the drawing, Conner grunts, “Find fish.” Turning around, he pulls out his sword and jogs back to the dead man. Conner cuts off the corpse’s arm at the shoulder.
SPACEIts at about this time that Grant awakens and sees the bloody mess Conner is making of the dead man. His confusion is shortlived, however.
SPACE“Find big fish,” Conner says, ponting to the charcoal scratching above the corridor. Grant stands and helps the barbarian rip the rest of the flesh and tear the arm from the deadman’s socket. Conner and Grant make their way to the corridor.
SPACELooking hard at the drawing, Grant’s face takes on a look of doubt. “A fish the size of a man?” Grant says out loud. “This I have to see.”
SPACE“Tharg, we kill fish.” Conner says.
SPACE“Tharg like fishing. Tharg help fishing.” Smiling to himself, Tharg grabs some rope from the pile of clothes and he motions to Conner to tie one end to the arm.
SPACE“Fishing… huh, huh…” Grinning like a little child, Tharg readies his oar as his barbarian cohort lowers the bloody arm into the water.
SPACEThe group is silent for many moments. No sound. No splashing. No fish.
SPACENot even a ripple.
SPACE“What’s going on, boys?” Tarsis asks from behind.
SPACE“Shhh!” Tharg hushes her, holding his finger to his lips. “We fish.”
SPACEMore silence. More waiting.
SPACEMore of the same results.
SPACEA sudden scream breaks that silence from the front of the cave.

SPACE“NOOOO!!!”

SPACEIt's Garn. He is holding the pale body of his elven friend, Sable, in his enormous arms.
SPACEGrant sullenly hangs his head. He takes a deep breath and makes his way over to the broken pair. Alliandra, also awake now, moves toward them as well.
SPACEThe big man’s sobs make his entire body heave and shake. He is obviously upset and large tears fall down his cheeks to the floor.
SPACEThe sobbing also awakens the rest of the sleeping survivors, though they remain at fireside.
SPACEGarn looks at Alliandra, almost accusingly at first.
SPACE“What happen?! You fix her! You say you fix her!” His tears have soaked his shirt and made his eyes red. Even his massive arms are trembling from grief.
SPACEAlliandra does her best to console him. “I’m sorry,” she says. “I did all I could.”
SPACEA renewed sobbing from the burly warrior is accompanied by a gentle rocking motion he makes as he cradles his dead friend’s head.
SPACE“She died well,” Grant consoles him. “She went in her sleep and that’s all anyone can ask for.”
SPACEGarn looks up at him and acknowledgement replaces his sadness.
SPACE“Let’s build a pyre,” Grant adds.
SPACEFrom the other side of the cave, Tarsis overhears.
SPACE“No, no,” she interjects. She makes her way across the cave and stands before the weeping man. “You cannot do that.”
SPACEGrant and Garn look at her in disbelief, awaiting explanation.
SPACE“We sylves do not believe in the death rites of humankind. When it is an elf’s time to go on, we leave our vale to go on in the woodland…to go back to nature, so to speak.”
SPACEThe dwarf nods. “Much as we dwarves have our Digger’s Dream.”
SPACETarsis nods back and they look to Garn.
SPACE“If an elf should die of unnatural or unexpected causes, we do not burn nor bury them. We take their body to a grove or a fallen tree and let them go on,” she continues. “So must we do for Sable.”
SPACEGarn nods, scooping up her lifeless body in his arms and carrying her to the mouth of the cave.
SPACEGrant and Tarsis move to follow, but Garn stops them. “No,” he says, “ I go alone.”
SPACEThey nod and let him leave, stopping just outside the cave’s mouth to allow the sunshine to lighten their hearts of the grief and watch Garn disappear into the jungle.

SPACEStill having had no luck with the fishing, Conner enters the water. Lowering himself down to the edge of the floor, he holds on to Tharg’s arms. Tharg lowers him the rest of the way down. There is a splash. Looking down, you can see Conner standing in water about two feet deep and muddy. He splashes about for a moment, not wanting to venture to far from safety should the fish show up.
SPACETharg shrugs his shoudlers and jumps into the water beside him, oar still at the ready. Conner pulls out his shortsword and peers into the darkness.
SPACE“Need light,” he says.
SPACE“Hey! Get that fire going,” Alasdair yells to the fireside. Kavan kneels before the black kindling and begins rejuvenating the flame. “We’re going to need some torches over here.”