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"Do I have to do everything around here?" Shadowheart's voice echoes through the cavern, distain thick on her tongue.
Cyderi hears the answering grunt from whichever party member took a hit, and the quickly spoken prayer of healing as the other cleric saves them from threat of an early grave. She struggles in place, pinned by rumble that had accompanied her abrupt and unexpected exit from battle. Gale would be sure to chide her for not taking precautions when the party returned to camp,, and he'd be well within rights. She'd known better, she'd been on shaky legs before climbing up on that wall to heal Wyll, but he'd have gone down... and Shadowheart had been at the other end of the corridor. It was the least she could have done.
She grunts in pain, shifting slightly in an attempt to extricate herself from the rubble.
She can't be but so far from the group, she can hear the battle raging on somewhere above. Taking quick inventory, she tries to reach for her pack. In a stroke of incredible misfortune, one of the straps had broken with her fall. She wriggles slightly to extricate the damaged bag to find it hopelessly empty. Lifting her head and pushing her weight upwards with what strength she can muster she sees the contents littering the floor.
"Oh, for the love of…" her voice slips out in a whisper as her eyes scan the dim cave, now noting the floor, covered with webs. She shallows her breathing to minimize the sound, eyes scanning frantically. She can see light trickling in from the adjoining crevice, but nothing seems to be skittering towards her, at least for now.
Moving at a snails pace, Cyderi works to move the rubble confining her legs. The sounds of battle have all but ended by the time she can freely wiggle one boot. Sweat mixes with blood, trickling down her temple to pool at her collar, but she persists. She'll free herself from this den and then find a way - any way, out of this hole.
Time seems to drag on for ages before she finally frees her other leg, gingerly standing to her feet with a soft sigh. Everything hurts. As she searches for a ledge to hoist herself up with, Cyderi thinks she might very well sleep tonight... throw meditation to the wind and hope for actual relief from this pain.
It does not take her long to find a way out. Unfortunate, truly, that her one way up was across sixty feet of webbed floor. She's not all too familiar with surface spiders, but she does not look forward to an opportunity to expand this particular horizon. Grimacing, she weighs her options. She could wait in hopes her party finds her, if they aren't dead themselves. She could sprint across and hope to reach the ledge before something reaches her. Woefully lacking on spells, she decides to sprint towards the ledge and jump, and sends up a silent prayer to Ilmater that her strength does not abandon her yet.
Nodding to steel her resolve, she lines up for the most direct path, closes her eyes and exhales softly.
"I really doubt you'll make that leap with the condition your leg seems to be in. What would I know, though. I'm no healer."
Blinking up, surprise etched across her face, Cyderi sees a bemused Astarion, kneeling by the hole she'd flown through. She wants to retort, to bite back with the vitriol she typically reserves just for him, but she's in no shape to argue. He's right. It was a poor plan.
"My hero, I suppose." She gingerly walks over to stand directly under him. "Care to give me a hand, then?" She makes an effort to keep her voice low, ever aware of the den at her back.
"Hmm, I could be persuaded to help, I suppose."
Annoyance colors her words and clouds her features as she scowls at him. "What do you want, Astarion."
"A great many things, fortunately for you." He leans over the ledge a tad more, brushing dirt off his knee in disinterest.
"Care to divulge?" She asks, teeth gritting with frustration.
"Well for starters, I'd love to know why exactly you took this particular detour. Scenery is a bit lacking, if you ask me."
"Curious how no one asked you, isn't it." She grits out, before forcing calm back into her words. "It was the blast from that damned warlock."
His eyes glint as he shifts again. "Oh I'm very well aware of how you took to the sky like a harpy. That wasn't quite my question, even as funny as it was to witness."
"I…" she blanches, aware her recklessness ended her here. She had expected a lecture, she reminds herself. She just didn't expect it from him of all people. "...your point?"
His voice adopts a deeper tone abruptly. "They can't find you."
"Are you threatening me right now?" Her voice cracks as her jaw drops with incredulity. "I already asked you what you wanted. You're the one that refuses to name your price, you shitting prick!"
"Cyderi." His eyes aren't focused on hers any longer, now scanning the darkness behind her.
She feels the web at her feet vibrate before she sees the spider, even with her superior vision. She whirls, releasing her now cracked shield from her back and sliding it on her arm as she searches for signs of the creature.
"Cyderi. Arm"
With no hesitation she raises the arm holding the mace and feels herself being lurched abruptly out of the den.
The spider advances still, eager to feed. Long legs feel the air above it as it looks for purchase. Astarion pulls the cracked shield off Cyderi's arm and drops it solidly on the spider's head.
She sputters a protest, limping behind him as quickly as her injury will allow. "That was my shield!"
"Astute of you." He beats a path through the ruins, distancing them from the threat of becoming dinner.
"What, sad you've given into good will, and lost your opportunity to threaten me to your heart's content? Don't take it out on me for your sudden lapse of character. "
"If i wanted to threaten you, I would." He seems satisfied with their location, leaning against the nearby stone wall to lazily stare at her.
"What do you call that back there then!" Adopting a deeply affected noble drawl she mocks him. " They can't find you ."
He has the gall to grin at her, looking entirely too amused by her display.
She lets out a frustrated groan as she leans against a wall to slide to the floor. Collecting her thoughts for a moment, she considers him. "How'd you find me, then? If no one else could."
His grin falters, eyes flitting to her temple and down to her neck as if not wanting to meet her gaze for a moment before resting his chin on his fist. "You smell. Particularly awful, really."
Cyderi bursts into a fit of laughter, startling the aloof high elf and cracking his casual demeanor. "Oh, rank am I?" Pushing herself to her feet she walks over to stand in front of him, careful to mind her leg. "Well since this particular scent was my apparent saving grace, maybe you should just learn to savor my ever so intoxicating flavor." Stretching to the side, exposing her throat and curving an arm up over her head she smirks at him, fanning herself as if to waft her pungent aroma in his direction.
Astarion looks entirely out of his depth, eyes refusing to meet her own, gaze locking on the tattoos of her jawline. Eventually she takes pity and lowers her arm, rolling her head to ease the tension in her shoulders as she leans against the wall next to him. He eyes her with what she assumes is wary disgust, but she shrugs it off. They sit in tense silence for a moment until she hears familiar echoing footsteps slowly getting louder.
She's never been so grateful to see an obnoxious sneer in her entire life.
"You two look… cozy." Shadowheart remarks, one eyebrow arching as she eyes the two of them.
"Far from it. Do you happen to have an extra potion on you?"
Wyll flashes a cheeky grin, tossing her a vial. "One here with your name on it."
"Truly might as well, you seem predisposed to needing them." Shadowheart's derision is clear in her tone but Cyderi shrugs it off, tamping down the well of excuses that clog her throat.
"I reserve my best spells for Wyll, surely you know that."
Shadowheart rolls her eyes once more, a faint smile touching the corners of her mouth. She shakes her head in mock defeat before sauntering off to loot anything not nailed down, Astarion following close behind. Wyll shoots Cyderi a devilish grin, keeping the façade until the other two were out of earshot before quietly rebuking her. "Mate, you gotta think about yourself too, right? Cleric can't heal if they're dead." He drops back into an easy going cadence as if he never broke it, voice projecting. "You can't leave me with only her magic to heal me. Something just not right with that one."
Cyderi shoots a look over her shoulder in time to notice the obscene gesture directed Wyll's way, and chuckles to herself. They aren't so bad.
Most of them, anyway.