Three days into the canyon trek, and morale remains dangerously high.
Sure, they'd nearly gotten eaten by a sandstone mimic disguised as an erotic statue, and yes, Sera had to fight off a swarm of singing scorpions using only a Libido potion and Zora's thigh bone, borrowed, not stolen.
But all in all, the team is in fine spirits.
"Where exactly are you even going?" Raikya asks, her voice flat as her frostmane hound, Frostlick, clomps beside the others.
She rides side-saddle, a massive dark-furred cloak draped over one shoulder, her sharp blue eyes scanning the arid horizon, spear balanced across her lap in easy reach. The others trudge or dance along beside her, depending on how Pip is feeling.
"To the Dwarven Kingdom," Vuvi says, stretching her arms overhead with a groan that pops her spine. "The Fire Mountains. Big beards. Big hammers. Big problems."
Raikya frowns. "Why?"
