The campfire's glow flickered in the darkness, casting long shadows across the gathered faces of Kael, Morgana, Darien, and the others. The night was heavy, a foreboding silence settling over them as they prepared for what lay ahead. Each warrior carried the weight of what they'd seen in the eastern woodlands—the twisted trees, the tainted soil, the whispers of darkness lingering just beyond sight.
Morgana glanced across the circle of warriors, her gaze steady but carrying a spark of urgency. "We've faced darkness before," she began, her voice calm yet intense. "But this... this feels different. Whatever we're up against, it's ancient, and it's waiting for us to falter."
Kael nodded, his eyes hardened with resolve. "We'll go in the morning. The ruins of the Fallen Spire are only half a day's journey from here, and that's where the darkness seems to be strongest."
