"Leave this place and take the child to safety. I'll not leave her behind again!"
The determination in Georgi's eyes shone clearly through the billowing fog. His wife's silhouette had already dissipated, but no man or god would sway him. Before another word was uttered, he darted away leaving confusion and fear in his wake.
The fog grew thicker; almost solid. Wintry tendrils crawled across exposed skin; impeding movement and sapping warmth from the living. The lone, visible light from the village bonfire sputtered. With no other decision remaining, the rescuers struggled to escape the grasp of the miasma with the child.
One by one, the would-be heroes emerged from the murky fog at the edge of the village. Raspy breathing of exhausted adventurers permeated the night until the cries of a relieved mother broke the silence.
The morning sun slowly crested the horizon banishing all vestiges of the fog until nothing remained but terrifying memories and the absence of Georgi Wyvernspur. The man, who had brought everyone together and shown that the monsters could be defeated, was gone.