Wake up!

Olpi awoke to a stinging pain in her leg, which had begun to swell while she was knocked out. Her arms were pulled back around a thin support beam, and twine kept her wrists bound together. At least Owen had left Elero on the ground; That way the crackling fire could keep her warm. Shadows of old blades danced along the dirt wall. The space felt even more cramped and muggy than when Olpi had first crawled into it.

Owen sat next to his bag, in a corner opposite to Olpi, pulling out icicles and healing the wounds with magic. Blood dripped down his torn robe shirt, which he had pulled down to reveal bags of sand hidden under fake skin. If not for the literal lying sack of fat, Olpi's icicles would have pierced straight through him. Magic circles sprouted around his wounds, which all sealed shut.

"How did a War Monk end up as a chef of all things?" Olpi asked.