The dwarves exchanged knowing looks, their expressions unreadable yet heavy with anticipation.
"Drink up, please, so we can get going. We won't be long, I promise you," the dwarves said in unison, their eyes locked firmly onto his.
Trevor glanced down at the potion they had provided and then back at the group.
From what he could discern, the risk seemed minimal; after all, he had watched one of the dwarves drain a vial right in front of him without any ill effects.
Beyond the safety aspect, he was in desperate need of a reprieve. The injuries he had sustained during the fight weren't necessarily fatal, but they were certainly far from superficial.
Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, Trevor finally gulped down the mixture.
He knew all too well that he hadn't even reached the core of his actual mission yet; heading into the unknown with lingering wounds was the surest way to find himself in an early grave before he could see the task through to its end.
