The mist clung to them like a second skin as they ventured deeper into the Shrouded Vale. The air was thick with moisture, making it difficult to breathe, and every step seemed to draw them further away from the world they knew. The trees around them grew taller, their trunks twisted and blackened, as if the darkness had seeped into their very souls. The silence was oppressive, broken only by the occasional snap of a twig beneath their boots or the rustle of unseen creatures in the underbrush.
Elara led the way, her senses on high alert. Every shadow seemed to move, every sound amplified in the quiet of the forest. She glanced back at her companions, noting the tension in their faces. The battle with the corrupted tree had taken its toll on them, and she could see the weariness in their eyes. But they pressed on, driven by a determination that could not be shaken.