The morning of departure was shrouded in a dense fog that clung to the village like a thick blanket. The air was damp and cool, carrying with it the scent of earth and decay. Elara and her team gathered at the edge of the village, their gear packed and their expressions set with determination. They were about to embark on a journey to the Obsidian Rift, guided by the cryptic prophecy they had unearthed.
The villagers, now accustomed to the ebb and flow of danger, gathered to see them off. Their faces were a mix of hope and concern, reflecting the uncertainty of the path ahead. The scroll had mentioned the Obsidian Rift as a location of great peril, and everyone understood the gravity of the mission.
Elara approached Morgana, who was carefully folding the scroll and securing it in a protective case. "We've gone over the scroll's details again, but there's still a lot we don't know. We need to be prepared for anything."