*Ella*
The twisting sensation in my stomach is at a peak as my boots crunch over glass, then something… crackly in a thick, nauseating way that leaves me totally unsettled. I pull my foot back and look down then let out a sigh of relief. Not a bone. Not someone’s mangled arm. Just someone's old cloak, I think.
I look over my shoulder at the fog rising from the river that separates Rifthold from the Roguelands. We crossed the river this morning by boat, and it had been a perilous, rocky ride, to say the least.
The way my legs tremble as I carefully pick my way through scattered debris has nothing to do with the treacherous journey across the river, however.
Ryatt is standing a few paces in front of me talking to Westfall in low tones, Granger at their side. The early morning fog is b
