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The cave loomed ahead, a black maw resembling a giant mouth ready to swallow anyone daring to step inside. In the thick twilight of pre-dawn shadows, it looked ominous, as if nature itself was warning: this was no place for the living.
Four travelers stood at the entrance, immersed in a brief silence broken only by the wailing wind. Jagged peaks surrounded them, along with dead, cold stillness.
— Another hole in the rock, — Crane snorted, brushing his bangs out of his eyes while eyeing the grim passage. His voice was lazy and mocking, as always when he wanted to show indifference.
Crane looked as if he wanted to be anywhere but here. Lean, with perpetually unkempt hair he never bothered to tame and brown eyes that sparkled with sly mischief. His face appeared both sullen and cunning, inspiring distrust from strangers at first glance.
— Nothing special, — he added with a shrug.
— Maybe stop whining? — retorted Amara, the red-haired warrior with a hint of irritation in her voice. She planted a hand on her hip, while a heavy two-handed sword swayed lazily on her other shoulder. They didn’t call her "Red Thunder" for nothing — her hair, as fiery as flames, and her temper, as explosive as a storm, made her a formidable opponent and no less dangerous an ally.
— We're here because of your lead, so at least pretend you're interested, — she added, narrowing her eyes angrily.
— I only passed along what I heard from my source, — Crane drawled, shrugging again. — But I’m not expecting anything worthwhile here. Still, you’re paying me, so I’m with you.
— Well, I am expecting something, — the eldest of the group, Gilbert, chimed in. His silver hair, neatly combed back, glinted faintly in the dim light filtering through the clouds, while the heavy, ornately carved staff adorned with a bright crystal added to his imposing presence.
The mage’s voice was steady, yet tinged with a weariness, as if years of searching and battling had become a heavy burden.
— Perhaps the rumors about treasure are exaggerated, but the cave feels strangely empty for a place like this. That’s suspicious.
Martan, the towering figure with a warhammer, stood nearby, gently shifting the massive weapon as if testing its weight. His muscles rolled under his leather armor, his expression focused.
— If there’s nothing valuable, we’ll just finish quickly and leave, — he rumbled, his deep voice echoing like distant thunder.
Crane only smirked to himself, glancing back at the black maw of the cave.