The fight against the bandits had ended. Rowan hadn’t been seriously injured, a scrape or two here and there. He now sat on his horse next to Aravorn. Elentari had fainted and Vráin was blind. The group was now ready to ride. They rode slowly back to the old camp. The spirits of the group were dampened by the loss of a few rangers and the state of Vráin and Elentari. The sun was now rising behind a veil of darkness. It was pale and sad. Light slowly crept into the sky and illuminated the way back to the camp.
The ride passes slowly and silently. Everyone was grave and unsmiling. Finally after what seemed like an eternity they reached the camp. Their the laid Elentari and Vráin to rest and hoped that good heath would be restored to them. Rowan helped the rangers make a small meal. Everyone ate but the food didn’t taste right to Rowan.
He remembered the ride to the ranger’s camp with Vráin. He had become friends with Vráin and hoped only for the best for the dwarf. Now all he hoped was that the dwarf would recover from his blindness. His heart was heavy for Gráin. He also thought of Elentari and wished her to get better. She had led us this far she couldn’t stop now. They needed her if there was any hope for them to defeat the dragon.
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