The battle had ceased, leaving behind an eerie silence filled only by the echoing sound of dripping water and the distant rumbling of the cavern. Emery's breathing was ragged but controlled as he surveyed the aftermath, his eyes alert for any sign of movement. The dark elves were notorious for their stealth and cunning, and he wanted to make certain that none were lying in wait to ambush him.
Once satisfied that he was indeed alone, Emery began the grim task of searching through the fallen as he rifled through their belongings.
His haul was significant but not exceptional: rugged tier 4 weapons, battered and worn from use; vials of elven poisons, their contents gleaming ominously; several small bombs, crafted with dark elven ingenuity; and their infamous hard, stinking bread, a staple that could sustain an elf for days but was nearly inedible to human palates.
