RAVEN'S GAMBIT

Thog Skullsplitter bent low, his thick fingers trembling as he reached for the black feather lying in the dust where the mountain had been. The plume shimmered unnaturally, glowing faintly as if catching light that wasn’t there.

“Careful, Thog,” Cedric warned, his shield rising instinctively. “That reeks of power not meant for mortal hands.”

“When has that ever stopped him?” Tessa muttered.

The half-orc grinned with tusked defiance. “It is Raven’s gift. Whelm sings to me of loss—perhaps this feather sings of answers.”

He lifted it.

The group had searched for weeks, chasing rumors like smoke in the wind.

Theron Blackroot hurled a stone into the ravine, the clatter echoing like a jeer. “Nothing. No Raven. No sign. Just endless dirt and empty sky.”

“You’re frightening the poor rocks,” Tessa “Quickfingers” Vell teased, twirling a dagger. “What did they ever do to you? Unlike people, stones never lie.”

Theron’s eyes narrowed. “Give me a list of liars, thief. I’ll carve it into the next boulder I find.”

“Don’t tempt me,” she smirked.