Emery strode confidently toward the southern gate, cloak billowing in the wind. Behind him followed Veyarel and Ivaris.
The chubby alchemist with sweat beading on his brow, muttered nervously under his breath. "This is madness... I should be in a lab, not charging into death traps... You've seen those beasts!" Ivaris hissed. "
"Don't worry," Emery said without looking back. "Just follow the plan."
Emery turned to Veyarel, who was following close behind, and handed the man one of his recovery pills—something to help keep him sane during the chaos of the coming fight.
