Time slipped by, unnoticed by the sun.
In the belly of the earth, morning wasn't heralded by the break of dawn. Morning here was simply the rhythm of life, pulsing once more after a near-death slumber.
The subterranean Dwarven city began to rise from that hellish night. The orange glow from the veins of ancient runes along the walls slowly intensified, responding to the activity of its denizens. The warm temperature from the magma river at the bottom of the chasm crept up slowly, banishing the lingering chill from the stone corridors.
There were no cheers. Last night's victory had been bought at far too steep a price.
In the vast courtyard near the main forge, only a muted bustle remained. Dwarven civilians worked together to clear away the ruined pillars. Cracked, bloodstained combat gear was stacked neatly in the corner to be smelted down.
