Caelgorr fell to the grey stone with a thunderous crack, his monstrous body collapsing in a grotesque sprawl. A final shriek—high, raw, almost human—was cut short as he hit the ground. The many eyes dotting his malformed form shut in unison, flicking closed like iron shutters, leaving him… still.
Dead.
Eri landed softly beside the corpse, her armor blood-streaked and torn. Llarm hovered just above, his wind magic flickering as it gently lowered her. She didn't speak or move; she simply stood there, blade still in hand, chest heaving, staring at the thing she'd just killed.
Bruma, panting like a winded bull, hunched forward with her massive hands braced against her knees. Her axe thudded against her back as she sheathed it—slow, deliberate, exhausted. Sweat gleamed on her green skin like morning dew, and her shoulders trembled with every breath.
