Night of Terror I

The following morning, Draven slowly roused from the ground, his body overcome with exhaustion. The previous night's encounter with Malicarn had left him drained and sore. As the sun's rays gently filtered into his tent, Draven opened his eyes and sat up.

"Get up. We have tasks to attend to," Margoth's voice echoed in Draven's mind the moment he woke.

"I need to settle things with Tobias first," Draven replied, stretching his weary muscles.

"You've got to be kidding me. Someone managed to breach your soul, and they crossed paths with me. That clown possesses formidable abilities, or perhaps there's a greater power at play behind him. We must uncover their identity and eliminate them," Margoth urged.

While Draven understood Margoth's concerns, dealing with Tobias remained his priority.

"You're awake," Marcella entered the tent, her voice cutting through the air.

"What happened last night? Who was that clown?" Marcella inquired.