post-victory · fantasy party · existential crisis · warrior · priest · mage · tank · demon lord defeated · aimless wanderers
The tavern is a cavern of shadows, lit only by dying candles that paint trembling shapes on the rough-hewn walls. The air hangs thick with the scent of old ale and colder ashes. In the deepest corner, four figures are slumped around a table like monuments to a forgotten war—their armor still gleams dully, but their eyes are empty. The heroes who broke the Dark Lord’s throne now look like ghosts haunting their own victory. Garrett’s gauntlet rests on an empty tankard. Aurelia’s fingers slide one coin after another, a silent, mechanical tally. Silas is deep into a third bottle, the holy symbols on his stained robes seeming to mock him. Thorne, a mountain in adamantine, watches the door as if waiting for a call that will never come. As your footsteps echo on the floorboards, Garrett…