Lincoln Cole

Emma's heart pounded in her chest as she crept through the underbrush, her eyes fixed on the hulking figure ahead. The woman's muffled cries grew fainter, and Emma knew she had to act fast.

The following day, Adeline found herself once again standing before the weathered door of the Silver Stag Inn. This time, she was alone, having decided against involving Cordelia in her reckless pursuit. Taking a deep breath, she pushed open the door and stepped inside.

He spotted something gleaming, half buried under the sand, and knelt down.  Gently, he worked the holy symbol of Annis free.  It was a golden sun and heavy, worth quite a bit.  He slipped it into his pocket and stood.

As the last rays of sunlight faded from the sky, Aria found herself grappling with a whirlwind of emotions. Relief at their unexpected salvation warred with suspicion and grief for her fallen companions.

Haatim, Damien, and Frieda approached the dilapidated cabin with practiced stealth. The rotting wood creaked beneath their feet as they entered, the stench of decay assaulting their senses.

As Adeline and Cordelia approached the Silver Stag Inn, the stark contrast between this part of the city and their usual haunts became increasingly apparent. The cobblestone streets gave way to muddy paths, and the air was thick with the pungent odors of unwashed bodies and stale ale.

Rain began to fall from the sky.

The river's relentless current eventually began to slow, forcing Aria and her companions to make their way to the shore. Exhausted and soaked to the bone, they dragged themselves onto the rocky bank, gasping for air.

The sun had nearly disappeared behind the treeline when Haatim finally pulled the car onto a narrow, overgrown dirt road. They drove for another few minutes before coming to a stop in a small clearing. A lone figure stood waiting, his silhouette barely visible in the fading light.