Back at the Dawn Islands, the air had stilled into something oppressive, like breath held too long. What remained of the Thorn-Wombed Queen had sunk into the pale soil, the grotesque bloom of her ruin now inert, crusted over by ash and silence. A few scattered rays of morning light filtered in from the broken cavern above, illuminating fragments of shattered armor, dried root, and the charred remains of twisted limbs.
Many paladins and clerics were moving around, tending to the injured and wrapping the dead in white cloth to return them to their families. The toll was heavy, and the gains were minimal.
