Footsteps echoed in a narrow flight of stairs that barely fit three standing shoulder to shoulder. The breathing of people going into a battle with an uncertain outcome had no unified rhythm to it. Disperse at they were, so too, thoughts would follow.
Nervous coughs broke the silence, followed by hums to clear the uneasiness within. That sharp, short, and sure show of shallow disquiet came and went uncountable times during the descent.
Sighs followed with chuckles accompanied the whispered name of the monster waiting at the end of the stairs. Not defeated, not unwilling. Disbelieving, perhaps. Anxious, even.
The three at the front, those with physical power and endurance in abundance, were relaxed in their expectation for conflict. Hoping, maybe, for a satisfactory scratch to the constant itch that was the desire to do battle with powerful foes that most would choose to avoid.
