The night settled over the clearing, surrounded by the dense embrace of the woods. Eerie shadows danced on the edges of the trees, and the nocturnal symphony of animals filled the air with their mysterious calls. The rustle of leaves added a layer of suspense to the atmosphere.
At a distance, Caym sat on a large root of an ancient tree. His black cloak draped over his imposing figure, and the moonlight, filtered through the thick canopy, provided a faint glow to the surroundings. A small bonfire crackled nearby, casting fleeting shadows that seemed to flicker with the whispers of the night.
With both hands, Caym carefully held a worn map, its edges frayed from countless journeys. His eyes, sharp and focused, traced the lines and symbols under the dim light. Clad in full armor beneath his cloak, he exuded a sense of authority and purpose even in the tranquil night.
