*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...