Lost Temple — Fighting!

An oppressive night silence descended upon the gorges of the Lost Temple. Centuries-old winds had turned the cliffs into sharp blades, blocking out almost all the stars.
Under a ruined arch, strewn with road dust, Grampling Hook's camp was set up. A fire cast long shadows across the cracked columns and sleeping osifrag birds. Sword sat by the fire, huddled under a heavy blanket. His fingers clutched his mug, his gaze blank with fear for Medkit, trapped in the darkness of the temple.
Bee stood a little distance away, her icy gaze revealing no hatred for the suspicious infernal. Chuck angrily fingered his weapon. TNT laughed, hurling barbs at Sword. Tarantula quietly defended her guest, while Caltrop studied the canyon map. Hook himself watched them silently from under the brim of his oversized hat.
No one saw Darkheart's silhouette appearing directly behind the swordsman. They became insubstantial shadows for camouflage.
"Look at them... That girl's right, you're out of place here. And this Chuck hates you. You're a coward, warming your bones by someone else's fire, while your beloved Medkit rots in the darkness of the temple. You're pathetic. And no one will help you."
Sword swallowed, and the poisonous whisper again dissolved into the night along with the shadow.
(You can be whoever you want, good luck with the roleplaying ❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛ )