Now for Quint

The caves were dank and dripping, the sort of caves formed by the gradual erosion of droplets of condensation. The pillars formed within the caves were striking, but the ever invasive damp had dimmed any majesty they held weeks ago. The men were bickering again. There was little else for them to do during daylight hours. They dare not venture out lest the patrols find them. They hunted and foraged by night in small groups. They were barely subsisting. Starvation kept them from getting any real sleep. What little they ate was only enough to keep starvation at bay long enough to draw out there suffering.

None of them had the strength to range more than several hundred meters from the caves, it certainly hampered their foraging efforts. They were too weak to move quickly and any significant distance as a group. They had been slipping away two by two. Then only Lucius and Cardarot were left able bodied, someone had to look after the others and coordinate the shabby state of affairs here in the caves. Several times Quintinius in fevered delirium from his injuries begged them to flee here while they still could. Neither man would though.

Quintinius lay moaning over the droplets of water that continued to slowly drip onto his face. The others around him were just as miserable, from the cold wet blackness. They were all getting sicker, a hacking cough that invaded their lungs. It weighed them down and sapped their strength till most could not sit up without aid.They were dying in this place, a slow agonizing death.

There was some calamity aside from the usual bickering, in his lucid moments it had Quint's attention.It was an urgent yet quiet conversation. "Lucius, what's happening?" he croaked softly.