The vast skies stretched endlessly above, a void shrouded in ink-black clouds. Not a single moon shone that night—only a tapestry of dim stars hung in silence, like ancient watchers.
Beneath the canopy of towering trees, nestled within thick wooden walls, a town hummed with quiet life. Fires crackled in circles where tall men, half-giants and seasoned warriors, gathered with cloaks draped over shoulders, their armor resting beside them. The cold was biting, but the firelight danced warm across their faces.
At the heart of their gathering, a large cauldron hung over an open flame. Moses stirred the bubbling stew with a giant ladle, its rich aroma drawing out chuckles of eager anticipation from those seated near.
"Who taught a big man like you how to cook?" Levi called out, smirking.
Moses grinned, his hands steady as he stirred. "My father. Back when I was a barbarian, I was the best cook in my town."
Laughter erupted around the flames.
