In a room overlooking the bustling docks of Drakoria, Gustavo and Thanatos sat at a weathered wooden table. The salty sea air wafted through the open windows, mingling with the scent of spiced meats and ale.
Gustavo chuckled, shaking his head as he watched Thanatos eagerly eyeing a passing server's tray of steaming dishes. "You never change, do you, old friend? Always the foodie, even after all these years."
As the words left his mouth, a violent cough suddenly overtook Gustavo. His body shook with the force of it, his face reddening as he struggled to catch his breath.
Thanatos's eyes narrowed, his jovial expression replaced by one of concern. "What's wrong, Gustavo? That doesn't sound good at all."
Gustavo waved a dismissive hand, composing himself. "It's nothing," he rasped, clearing his throat. "Just some dust that caught in my throat. This old port city isn't exactly known for its clean air, you know."
