The mulecart creaked once, then settled into silence.
The last trace of the criminal merchant vanished into the gloom beyond the tree line, his footsteps swallowed by underbrush and moonshadow. He hadn't even taken the cart—just dumped it and run, the way cornered rats sometimes did.
the light elf emerged from the thinning mist with blades sheathed but fingers flexing. the dark elf was already moving, stepping lightly across packed earth, his cloak parting to reveal the glint of an elven blade half-drawn. The crates left behind smelled faintly of sulfur and something... fouler. The air still tingled with expended magic.
Sky stood by the cart, unmoving. His back was rigid, the satchel at his side pressed tight against his ribs. He hadn't drawn a weapon, but something shimmered briefly at his side—a ward glyph, just beginning to form.
