With a heavy heart, Bliss found himself forced into the role of a spectator, standing at a distance, straining to catch every word exchanged between the adventurer parties and the guards.
The tension hung thick in the air like a suffocating fog, as both sides squared off, each unwilling to yield an inch of ground. Bliss longed for the conflict to erupt, for chaos to reign and provide him the opportunity to slip away into the safety of the dungeon's depths. Yet, some unseen force, whether it be authority or fate, held the combatants in check, denying him the chance for escape.
-
"Screw the Unholy Council! This dungeon ain't even a year old yet!" A burly adventurer, his golden plate glinting defiantly, advanced menacingly toward the guards, his war hammer clenched tightly in his grasp.
But the guards, resolute and unmoved, stood their ground, hands hovering over the hilts of their swords, their faces set in grim determination.
