After searching the cave, I found a cozy spot in the sun atop aneaby cairn of rocks. Below me, Soltair and Trithe surrounded a small pile of "loot." Much of it was junk, having long since been corroded by the constant fumes and acids of the Basilisk, but that made it easier to tell what was worth looking at. Occasionally, an excited shout startled me from my reverie, but everytime I looked, they were just fawning over some bauble or treasure. I quickly tuned them out, focusing on the surrounding vista.
Far below, at the base of the foothills, several villages made ready for the night. Kitchen fires sent countless streams of smoke skyward, casting a low haze over the region. The falling sun's rays intersected the smoke, casting a bright red glow over the sky. I sighed, resting my chin in my hands. Among them was Whiteriver Village. I couldn't help but wonder if the villagers had truly been liberated from the curse. Everyone had been so sure of it.
