"Joshua Stay close," his father would say, tightening the straps on his leather pack. "Out here, things don't wait for you to be ready."
Now, standing at the edge of the Broken Vale.
The land ahead was scarred with twisted trees clawed at a gray sky, and the ground looked like it had been torn open and stitched back together wrong. A low, distant roar echoed through the valley.
"You still want to do this?" Joshua asked, glancing back at him.
Mark swallowed, gripping his battle axe "Yeah. I'm not turning back."
They stepped into the Vale together.
At first, it was quiet. Too quiet. No creatures. No wind. Just the crunch of their boots on brittle ground.
Then the something in the darkness moved.
"Down!" his father snapped.
Joshua dropped just as something streaked overhead a long, sinewy creature with too many limbs and a mouth that opened sideways. It slammed into a tree, splintering it, then twisted unnaturally to face them.
Joshua froze.
His father didn't.
Steel flashed. In one smooth motion, he stepped forward, the axe cutting through the creature's neck. It let out a shriek that rattled the ground before collapsing into a twitching heap.
Silence returned.
Joshua stared at the corpse.
Now that we have enter the Vale, we must perverse and use our energy wisely
"That was just a scout creature."
They kept moving.
Days passed.
They were drenched in blood.
By the 20th day, they reached a ridge overlooking the heart of the Vale. Below them, something massive stirred in the darkness below.
This is the first step of our journey to the tower.
We will rest for tonight and will go down tomorrow.