ogrespotting

The cavern went dark.

Silently, Raith cursed himself for being ill-prepared. His final torch vanquished, he began uttering a cryptic incantation, then waved his arms in a mystic pass. The torch still in his hand flickered to life again, though not by any form of natural fire.

"We've not long to secure the tunnel," he said, taking up his staff and treading onward. "Let us move quickly."

The halflings that followed him hardly needed the magical light to see, but having a sightless mage at the party's forefront was far from an acceptable liability.

Besides, Raith knew that he would serve as a fine distraction when the hin fanned out to either side upon finding their quarry: the vile ogre responsible for murdering more than a dozen halfling villagers. And likely more by now, had Raith not recently been passing through the low valley that harbored their undersized huts and cottages.

Nevertheless, that he was forced to expend a valuable spell distressed the wizard greatly. Raith and the halflings had burned through a liberal number of torches dealing with a goblin encampment near the cave's entrance, a reckless use of supplies that would see the halflings leading Raith out like a blind beggar if they couldn't end their mission soon.

Raith narrowed his dark eyes and swallowed his anguish. Hitherto, nary a hin had been lost, even seriously injured, and Raith very much intended that his full accompaniment would return to their families safely.

For enough halfling blood had been spilled at the hands of the wretched creature they sought.