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[Himaran]

Bali saw Durin run towards him, and noticed the map blow off into the foliage. He grabbed the younger dwarf by the arm. "Stay! We can't have anyone getting lost again." Then he turned his attention to his brother.

Dwalin lay on the ground, writing in pain. The others gathered around him, not sure what action to take. Bali pushed through them. "Give me room, laddies!" He quickly inspected the bite on the twitching dwarf's leg, and grimaced.

"Poisoned. Erulon, prop up his shoulders so it doesn't spread. Nerin, dig some athelas out of the bags, quickly now!" The dwarf knelt again and squeezed the skin around the bite tightly, preventing the deadly venom from spreading. Pulling out his favorite knife, the gift of Halonir the elf, Bali cut into the skin and sqeezed harder. Thankfully, Dwalin was already unconcious, and did not feel the searing pain of the sharp blade. Slowly, the poison began to run out, mixing with blood and spilling out into the sandy ground. Nerin brought the athelas, and Bali administered it to the wound; wrapping the leg with a strip of cloth.

"Keep him propped up and let him rest. Tomorrow, he will feel terrible, but should be good as new in a day or two." It was just then that Bali realized that Gortek was missing.
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Erulon stayed with Dwalin while the other dwarves hurried after Gortek's path through the forest. Kain was at the front, with Bali just behind. Suddenly, Kain stopped, apparently leaning forward and rapidly losing his balance. Bali slowed and caught him, pulling the young dwarf back. Looking down, Bali could see Gortek pullin himself up. "Rope, rope!" He yelled. But the rope was in Gortek's pack... and the pack was gone. On an instant reaction, Bali eased over the edge, slowly climbing down towards Gortek. The dwarf was barely holding on, having fallen on a steep area. Bali reached out - "The axe! Hand me your axe! Gortex, holding onto a jut with one hand, pulled out his axe and reached out to Bali.

Grabbing the axe, Bali heaved it up onto the plateau. Pulling himself back up, he called the man and elf over. "Hold my legs!" He leaned over the edge headfirst, and grasped Gortek's hand with his own. "Pull!" And pull they did.

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The entire company seemed to have a newfound respect for Bali following the two incidents. Thanks to his treatment, Dwalin was completely recovered by the following day; although he would walk with a slight limp for few weeks. Any sense of distrust was gone, and Bali was now close friends with Gortek. But the company's position had not completely improved. The flies still swarmed around them, and their map was gone.

"We must press on, or these insects will be our deaths," Bali remarked. And so they pressed on, following the edge of the ravine Gortek had nearly died in eastward.

[Arestevana]

Moments had passed, and Maulká grew increasingly edgy. Bestialán appeared to be weighing Nephil’s invitation, testing its merits. Maulká waited for a few tense moments, as eager as a child. It had been many months since she had hunted anything but squirrel, black or no. She shifted her weight impatiently, and Bestialán seemed to notice. The corner of his mouth moved slightly, in what might have been a smile. Then he turned to Nephil to reply.

Maulká bolted. It took some effort not to run, but she managed a quick walk out of the hall. Then she turned and hurried down a corridor, her eyes gleaming. A rack of javelins stood to one side of the hall, opposite a small table. Maulká pulled several of the weapons from their stand and examined them meticulously. If she found imperfections in the wood or disliked the weight of one of the weapons, she placed it back on the rack.

Finally selecting a javelin that was to her liking, the woman crossed to the table on the other side of the hall. From the tabletop she removed a large, square jar and a rag. She dipped the rag into the jar, she withdrew it, dripping liquid, and then ran it up and down the wood of her javelin. Some of the liquid dripped onto her fingers, tingling, but its slight acidic quality could not penetrate her leathery skin. When the liquid had saturated the wood, she leaned the javelin against the wall and brought out a small pouch from about her waist. Inside the pouch were half a dozen hollow darts. Maulká soaked these with liquid as well before returning the rag and the jar to their places on the table. The darts she returned to their pouch, except for one which she put in her mouth.

Returning to a main corridor, Maulka hurried toward the exit onto the jungle. I should be able to catch up to Nephil before he reaches the exit, and Bestialán, if he decided to come, she thought, quickening her step. She rolled the dart in her mouth across her tongue, relishing the bitter, oily taste of the poison. It could not harm her, but the acidic poison caused agony to many other creatures.

Maulká allowed herself a rare smile. It was a rather frightening expression; a bizarre, predatory leer with an uncanny intensity. Rolling the dart in her mouth again, Maulká produced a hissing whistle by blowing across the hollow end. The hallway became brighter as she approached the exit onto the jungle, and Maulká squinted. She halted at the bend where the main corridors met, keeping a corner between her and the blinding twilight of the jungle. Here she could adjust to the light and keep an eye on the tunnels to wait for Nephil and, maybe, Bestialán.