The expedition finally arrived at the edge of the Devouring Valley and began setting up a makeshift checkpoint, a sprawl of tents, and crudely shaped stone huts. A few, more extravagant and heavily guarded, stood apart, marking the quarters of the expedition's elite.

  The camp bustled with activity as members rushed through final preparations, while along the main road, patrols stood watch over the winding path that disappeared into dense foliage. Hushed, conspiratorial whispers carried unease through the camp. Some, however, were far less subtle.

  "This is ridiculous! Marching into dangerous lands with these half-baked adventurers is suicide! For the love of Drehiri, what is the expedition leader thinking?"

  The exasperation in Harold's voice made several heads turn as he continued to angrily pace around the small campfire. He threw out his hands dramatically, turning to Saul, the short, stocky priest sitting nearby. "Saul, you agree, don't you?"

  Saul sighed and folded his arms. "Harold, I have told you countless times. You don't know these people, nor are you qualified to judge them in matters of competence. If you have nothing useful to say, keep it to yourself."

  "You were once at their level," added Susan, the large woman seated beside Saul. "Would you want someone saying the same about you?"

  Harold groaned, rolling his eyes. "Come on, Su, you can't seriously -"

  "Harold." Aysha, the smaller woman across from him, cut in before he could finish. "You've spent the last two days styling that wax lump you call hair. If anyone here is half-baked, it's you."

  Harold gasped, running a hand protectively over his meticulously styled mound. "I am not half-baked. I am a perfect specimen, painstakingly refined into the ideal man!" He struck what he believed was a dignified pose, then smirked. "You, on the other hand, Aysha... well..."

  Aysha raised an eyebrow as she rose slightly. "Well, what? Say it. I dare you."

  Harold's smirk faltered. He sniffed, tilting his chin up. "I have decided, as Saul suggested, to stay quiet."

  Aysha snorted. "That's a first."

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  Saul took a slow sip from his metal flask, a hint of a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. Harold glared at Aysha before flopping dramatically back into his seat.

  As the group ate and drank, a comfortable silence settled over them, the camp’s dwindling bustle serving as a quiet backdrop.

  However, unable to keep his mouth shut for long, Harold spoke up. "While I'm aware we're to find some magic... thing, what exactly are we looking for?" Harold asked.

  Susan sighed, Her tone carried the weight of weary repetition. "We do not know what form it will take, as we have all told you numerous times."

  Harold shifted awkwardly in his seat, a hint of embarrassment evident on his refined face. "I - I know that, I was just curious if any of you have gained any more insight since -"

  Aysha cut in, forestalling whatever excuse he had. "Since what? The 40 minutes since the expedition leader briefed us on the details last?"

  "Now that's unfair, you're aware I was busy, no?" Harold retorted, his redness subsiding.

  "Cleaning your boots doesn't count as busy, Harold." Saul responded. "Regardless, we're heading into a dense forest filled with monsters. Dirt should be the least of your concerns."

  Harold's smug grin stretched wide and sharp, catching the rest of the group off guard. "Take a closer look." Harold extended the boot toward Saul, his grin deepening.

  Saul took it hesitantly, running a hand over the sole. His brow furrowed. Then, his eyes widened.

  "Wait... are these—?"

  "Enchanted," Harold finished, plucking the boot back with a flourish. "Unlike some people, I take care of my gear."

  Harold's grin worsened as he spoke. "Just as you maintain your weapons and armour, I do the same for my own equipment." Harold retrieved his boot and held it aloft for the others to inspect. "You see the inscription along the sole?" His finger ran down the length of the boot. "They're rather resilient and can't be disrupted easily. Enough filth, however, and they become a mundane, if not spectacular, pair of boots."

  Sauls thick, bushy eyebrows shot up, his surprise practically oozing out of his wide face. Susan and Ayasha also looked surprised, both glancing briefly at each other. "That's... A valid excuse." Saul said, seemingly torn by the validity of his statement. "Valid?" Aysha started, a hint of indignation in her tone. "I get it's a blessing from the gods that his efforts went on something other than-" She paused and gestured up and down at Harold, "whatever this is, but he still ignored every other time it's been explained. You can't - " Aysha was cut off by Susan raising her hand at her.

  "While I agree with... part of what you're saying." Susan interrupted. “I think we should give him this one. Self-improvement does not happen overnight, it will take time. We should be happy with this step towards progress."

  "Thank you, Su." Harold said graciously. "With that, I'm going to turn in for the evening." He stood up and stretched. "Goodnight, Su, Saul" he turned to each of them as he spoke their names. He then turned a glare on Aysha. "I do hope you get left behind tomorrow, Aysha."

  Aysha stuck out her tongue and scoffed. "I hope your wax suffocates you."