Whispers in the Dark

The trek through the Blighted Lands continued, a relentless march towards the swirling vortex of darkness that pulsed in the distance. The initial exhilaration of their victory against the monstrous creature had given way to a gnawing tension. The desolate landscape stretched before them, a constant reminder of the Shadow Weaver's corrupting influence.

Days blurred into nights. The once-vibrant group, fueled by hope after their first victory, grew weary. Corvus, their stoic guide, became increasingly withdrawn, his eyes haunted by a deep-seated fear. Julie and Elara found themselves struggling to maintain their optimism, the oppressive silence and ever-present darkness slowly chipping away at their resolve.

One evening, as they huddled around a meager campfire, a sense of unease settled over the group. Corvus stared intently into the flickering flames, a troubled frown etched on his face. Finally, he spoke, his voice barely a whisper.