The caves were dark. They seemed small and close. A roughly square room lead off to three prongs. We knew the Stag Lord’s father was down here somewhere, but we did not know how cunning and treacherous he would be.
Various beasts appeared and swarmed us. I searched, trying to sense the evil of him, but I could not detect him. We fought and killed the beasts he must’ve conjured. And eventually, he finally made his appearance; stepping out from the earthen wall, as if it were made of water, he appeared. His magic reminded in some ways of Tyberia’s. But his was twisted, dark. And now that I could see him, I sensed the evil within him.
Throughout the fight he said nothing. Grim determination upon his face, he attempted to defeat us, to kill us. But we overwhelmed him. Unfortunately for him, unlike his son, his life would not be spared.
We returned to the surface.
Deciding not to stay here much longer, we prepared to set out, back to Oleg’s and eventually, Restov. We took our spoils of battle, including weapons, horses, furs, a cart, and some miscellaneous other trinkets. We chained the Stag Lord, still bound in the manacles, down to the cart—unless he had help from others, he would not be freed—and we spent one last night in the fortress formerly belonging to the Stag Lord.