The morning sun broke over the jagged horizon of the Crimson Wastes, painting the barren landscape in hues of red and gold. The group stirred from their rest beneath the rocky overhang, the embers of their campfire still glowing faintly. The previous day's ambush lingered in their minds, but it only steeled their resolve as they prepared to press on.
Lyra stretched as she rose, her muscles stiff but her spirit strong. Her greatsword leaned against the rock beside her, the blade gleaming faintly in the morning light. "This is it," she said, her voice steady but tinged with anticipation. "The dungeon should be just ahead."
Victor stood nearby, his staff resting against his shoulder as he watched the horizon. "We've come this far. Whatever's inside, we'll face it together."
Sylvia prowled around the campsite, her green eyes scanning the surrounding terrain. "Let's just hope we don't run into any more hired thugs on the way. I'm not in the mood for another ambush."
