Bab 1259: Phoenix's Real Powers I

Two days later, in the bustling heart of the city of Goldspire, Borgin stood by the window of his spacious room, his gaze fixed on the lively streets below. Behind him, his team of beast tamers busied themselves with meticulous preparations for their next venture. The sound of oiling crossbows mingled with the rhythmic knitting of nets, while others checked the inscriptions on hand-sized rocks, ensuring the potency of their runes.

In the midst of this focused activity, Thoric, a stout dwarf with a penchant for straightforwardness, broke the silence. 

"So, are we just going to pretend like nothing extraordinary happened in that dungeon?" he asked, his brow furrowed in disbelief.

Borgin, ever the pragmatic leader, turned from the window to face his team. 

"And what would you have us discuss about that, Thoric?" he inquired, his tone suggesting that the topic was of little consequence.