The sword pealed. The magical confusion fell away.

"That's not lava!" Leliana shouted, as realization dawned. "It's an ooze. Filled with molten fire and capable of enchantments." She negated the ring's magic and found her feet. She was furious with herself. If she'd been holding her singing sword when she crossed the crevice, this never would have happened.

"How do we fight it?" Naxil asked.

"Let me handle it. Keep behind me."

As Naxil danced back, the ooze cast an enchantment. Leliana felt it as a wave of exhaustion. Just as her eyes closed, the singing sword pealed loud and long, jolting her awake. She heard a sigh behind her, then a thump: Naxil, collapsing on the floor. She glanced back, praying he was still alive. There was no time to check, however.

The ooze surged out of the crevice in slow, rippling waves. It was enormous, twice as wide as Leliana was tall. It moved across the floor like molten iron, folding upon itself in wrinkles as it flowed forward. Its skin was a thick, clear membrane, cracked in places. Liquid fire dribbled from the cracks.

She lifted her sword. "You don't frighten me," she said aloud. The ooze was a mindless thing, and wouldn't understand, but saying it helped steady her.

The ooze bulged, forming an appendage.

Leliana chanted a prayer and released her sword. Borne by magic, it flew at the ooze and slashed at the expanding bulge. Magical steel met glowing fire and sliced neatly through it. The creature blazed like a bellows-driven fire as a portion of its "limb" fell away. Molten fire flowed from the wound, puddling on the cavern floor. Even protected by her spell, Leliana felt its heat as her chain mail warmed to an almost unbearable temperature. Sweat trickled down her body in rivulets, and into her eyes. Her singing sword glowed with heat; she was glad she wasn't holding it.