The journey across the rugged terrain of Nethira Prime was slow and deliberate, much like watching paint dry—if the paint could potentially eat you alive. The Emberthorn Coalition's cohort, a disciplined group of hunters, navigators, and support staff, moved in a line long enough to make a centipede jealous. At the very front, scouts and navigators analyzed the path ahead with the intensity of chess grandmasters, though their game pieces were considerably more lethal.
"Beast horde, two kilometers east," a scout would call out, and the entire column would adjust its course like a massive, well-choreographed dance troupe. Their caution ensured the cohort avoided unnecessary bloodshed, though small skirmishes with stray beasts were about as inevitable as bad weather at a planned picnic.
