The three of them rushed down the mountain path.
Loose stones cracked beneath their feet along with loose boards as the cold wind swept violently across the narrow descent. Luka led from the front, trying to keep his steps even while enduring his injuries. He clutched his side while crimson miasma continuously leaked from his torn sleeves.
The clang of Galatea's armour rumbled behind him as she removed the heaviest parts, down to her royal blue gambeson and leather underarmour. She then grasped the weathered rope and slid quickly down the rough wall, making a lot of noise.
Levia was different.
She slithered through the shadows in silence, her steps almost floating along the ground.
When it came to her descent, she scaled the wall with swift movements.
The dark elf leapt across broken rocks and ruined barricades with unnatural grace, her golden eyes locked firmly upon the distant Goblin Shaman ahead of Luka.
