The peace didn't last.
It never did.
Not in a world where monsters lurked behind every horizon and ancient secrets slept beneath mountains.
Still, nobody complained.
The night had been good.
Rarely did they get moments like that anymore.
Moments where nobody was fighting.
Nobody was bleeding.
Nobody was running for their lives.
Just friends sharing stories.
Laughing.
Existing.
For John, it had been surprisingly enjoyable.
Though he would never admit that aloud.
Lythriel would never let him hear the end of it.
---
The camp awakened early.
Dwarven discipline ensured that.
Before the first lanterns brightened, warriors were already moving through the ruins.
Weapons were checked.
Armor inspected.
Scouting reports delivered.
The atmosphere had shifted from relaxed back to professional.
The deeper they ventured, the greater the danger.
Everyone understood that.
---
John slowly opened his eyes.
His massive body was curled around part of the plaza.
