Chapter 2, Part 9

It was probably because it was pitch black.

Sven tripped.

“Somebody light a damned torch!”

His comrades muttered apologies as a torch flared into life. More followed- torches, not apologies- and Frosk and Edgar brought forth light from their staves as well. Sven glared at the gnarled root which he had failed to see in the darkness. Standing up, he brushed himself off and screamed casually as he came to eye level with a half naked, horrifyingly decrepit but evidently alive old man stepping out from an alcove. After a moment of tension and staring at one another, Sven coughed awkwardly and extended his hand.

“I am sorry, you startled me-”

The old man cut him off with a scream of his own, then giggled hoarsely and pressed something small and squishy into the Norseman's hand.

“It's dangerous to go alone,” he croaked. “Take this!”

He cackled and ran off into the darkness.

“Strange,” said Sven, before examining the object in his hand. The gift turned out to be a human eyeball.

He vomited.

Hahahaa, that was good. I like it.

These are great! I can't wait for some more.