The campfire crackled weakly, its light barely piercing the oppressive darkness of the Scorching Badlands. The jagged volcanic ridge loomed over the group like a row of teeth, and the air carried the acrid scent of sulfur and molten rock. Despite the heat, an uneasy chill settled among the champions as they prepared for the night.
Kael sat cross-legged near the fire, gnawing on a strip of dried meat. His amber eyes glinted in the flickering light as he tossed an extra piece to James. "You're awfully quiet, tinkerer. Scared of what's out there?"
James caught the strip awkwardly, his mind elsewhere. "Not scared," he muttered. "Just… thinking."
"Thinking doesn't keep you alive out here," Kael retorted, his sharp teeth flashing in a grin. "Strength does."
"Strength without a brain to use it is just as useless," Thrain grumbled as he inspected his hammer. "Not all problems can be solved by tearing them apart."