Elisdrasil took the unguent with a thankful nod. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to eat the stuff or rub it over his wounded hip. After a quick whiff of the potent mixture, he really hoped that it was the later.

Gritting his teeth, Elisdrasil pulled the leather of his armor away from the wound. A swollen lump of black and purple told him that the wound was likely to hinder him through the rest of their journey into the Crypt, causing Elisdrasil to curse himself for his inattention. If the Crypt’s guardian proved to be too much for him to fight without becoming seriously injured then how much worse would he and Krugor fare inside the Crypt itself.

“Let’s just hope the skeleton knows his stuff,” he muttered. Two fingers scooped a thick dollop of the sticky mass from Krugor’s jar. Preparing himself for what came next, Elisdrasil puffed his breath several times and then rubbed the mushroom ointment over his injury.

The pain hit him like a hammer blow to the side of the head, sending an electric buzz through his brain that cut the rest of the world out. But Elisdrasil didn’t falter, and rubbed the wound until a thin layer of paste covered the whole thing. Then he scooped out another glob and did it again.

Surprisingly, his finger had started tingling by the time he finished and by the time he’d reset his armor in place, his hip had too. The tingling felt like tiny prickling needles at first, which numbed the area where the paste had been, but then it blossomed into a serious but comfortable warmth. Elisdrasil let it sit for another minute while Krugor finished his search.

Crashing stone cut Elisdrasil’s reverie short and he was on his feet the instant the baby golem made itself known. His hip still ached terribly, but the warmth from the medicine had definitely cut the intensity of it down.

“Handy stuff to have,” he thought, grabbing his sword. “Too bad it smells like rotten cheese soaked in cat piss though.”

He studied the baby golem with unabashed curiosity. Golems were constructed creatures, not naturally born. For the baby golem to exist, it had to have been created that way and then tied to the protector golem magically as a maternal figure. It made little sense to Elisdrasil, be it certainly fit with the oddness that had surrounded Kulthas Shuul.

“Bring it with us,” he finally said to Krugor. “The entrance to the Crypt has to be around here somewhere. He might prove useful once we can get Sarl Krieg’s wards down.”

Sheathing his sword, Elisdrasil gritted his teeth and limped further into the forest.