The passage widened gradually, the oppressive walls of the dungeon giving way to an open expanse. I froze as the path leveled out, revealing a massive cavern bathed in flickering torchlight.
Rows of crude tents and ramshackle wooden barricades sprawled across the cavern floor. Smoke rose from several fire pits, their embers casting dancing shadows against the jagged walls. The air was thick with the scent of charred meat, damp earth, and something sour that made my nose wrinkle.
Goblin voices echoed through the space—gruff, guttural tones that alternated between sharp barks and raspy laughter. Dozens of them moved about the camp, their hunched forms silhouetted against the glow of the fires. Some were armed with rusted swords or jagged spears, while others carried crude clubs or slings.
The orb in my chest flared faintly, its warmth a steady drumbeat that matched the rising tension in my limbs.
