Finally, he spoke. And the words settled, cutting through the uncertainty with a finality that left no room for doubt.
"We'll fight."
Murmurs died instantly, replaced by the sound of blades being gripped tighter, of throats being swallowed dry. The tension in the air sharpened like a drawn bowstring ready to snap.
Narg's gaze shifted to Flogga, who had been standing just behind the others, her satchel clinking faintly with the sound of glass.
"Flogga," he said evenly, his tone calm but heavy with expectation, "you brewed potions before, didn't you? Anything useful now?"
Flogga straightened under his eyes, her earlier frustration giving way to grim resolve.
Then she nodded.
Narg then ordered, his voice hardening with command.
"Snibb, Krosh, Zox—go with her. Bring every potion she has prepared, whatever it is that can help. The rest of us will meet them head-on."
