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They made camp at the top of the ridge out of necessity; even bathed in the blue glow from below the descent from their position would have been dark and treacherous. Better instead to rest, to eat, to scrape the dust and sweat from their bodies in anticipation of the following day’s descent and exploration. The glaive, easily the least weary of the group, took first watch, and paced up to the very edge of the precipice looking down at the source of the glow below.
A structure, broken, misshapen, jutted from the earth below. The glow emanated primarily from a single large opening, though in the dark the glaive could see signs of light coming from other wounds in the structure. A sentinel stood watch before the large opening, a creature of tremendous proportion, with arms as large as the party’s nano. The glaive sat down and began to run a whet stone across his massive two-handed verred’s blade in anticipation of the first light’s first chore.