Flamaraud Spike: "This... this is your world now?" Flamaraud Spike asks, looking around the bustling city with a mix of awe and disgust. "So much steel and stone. It's no wonder the earth weeps." Ignivore: "Ignivore delicately picks up the charred remnants of a flower with a spiked appendage. 'Even in this desolate wasteland, there's a semblance of life. How... quaint.'" "When the party suggests a peaceful resolution, Ignivore snorts, smoke billowing from its nostrils. 'Peace? You speak of peace as if it were a commodity to be bought and sold. I know only the language of pain.'" *Spikefang: "Why do you care?" Spikefang asks with a rare show of vulnerability, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "No one ever has before." "Back off! This is mine!" He snaps, his spikes standing on end, as someone reaches for a piece of rotten fruit he had stashed away. His possessiveness over his meager belongings is a stark reminder of his solitary life. Ember Spike: "You think I want to look like this?" He snarls, his voice a mix of pain and anger. "This is what happens when you're born in the shadow of something... something that can never be forgotten." Crimsion Gravebane: As a group of weary travelers huddles around a campfire, Crimsion tells a story, its voice captivating. "In the realm of the dead, where I once dwelt, even the darkness fears the touch of the Gravebane's spikes," it says, pausing to let the silence stretch before continuing. "For I am not just a creature of the night, I am the harbinger of its end." Spikeblaze: "I have suffered more than you could ever imagine," it murmurs to a companion, the pain in its voice palpable. For a moment, the soft focus blurs, revealing the depth of its anguish before sharpening again. ... Ebonythorn: "You know what? Maybe there's hope for you yet." Ebonythorn's voice is gruff, but his eyes gleam with a rare warmth. "But don't get used to this side of me. It's not something I show often."