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[5E] The Kalarian Precipice - Chapter One
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<blockquote data-quote="daindarkspring" data-source="post: 7344545" data-attributes="member: 6939181"><p><strong>Dain: The Grove</strong></p><p></p><p>Dain made his way slowly but purposely through the crowds, his laden pack still on his back. No sense going by the Apothecary’s shop since no doubt the old crone was out and about with the rest of the villagers. Voices carrying conversations he had no care for came and went as he pushed and coerced his way closer to the massive stone edifice. He chewed on some dry meat as he walked, ignoring any looks he may have received. His eyes were on the tower, and he listened to the voice that came from it. Despite having been in the village for several months, he was still an outsider and he was well aware of the fact. It didn’t help his reputation that he often disappeared into the mountains for days on end. Still, there were a few people who had been healed of an ailment by the Apothecary, and she had given him praise for finding rare medicinals. In this way, at least he assumed, he was not outright hated. </p><p></p><p>The closer he got, the denser the crowds became. He didn’t like being pressed in on all sides by people. They smelled. He was used to mountain air, after all. Hefting his pack up closer, wary of groping hands, he spied a spot that looked relatively open. An old stump by some trees. A half-orc was occupying some of the space, but surely there was room for him? He recognized the spot’s guardian as some sort of religious acolyte of Suru, and recalled having bumped into him on several occasions.</p><p></p><p>At any rate, it was a place clear of the more frenzied villagers, and that was very appealing. With a flicker of a grin, completely for himself, he headed over to the stump. Taking another piece of dried goat meat from a worn leather pouch at his side, he tore it in half as he approached the acolyte. Walking up, he made eye contact with the half-orc and nodded in greeting. Taking a seat on the stump, he offered up a half of jerky. “Mountain goat. Seasoned with herbs.” Despite the offer, Dain’s eyes and ears were clearly on the tower, and the pending issuance from it. It wasn’t that he was ignoring the half-orc, it was just that he seemed very focused on what was forthcoming.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="daindarkspring, post: 7344545, member: 6939181"] [b]Dain: The Grove[/b] Dain made his way slowly but purposely through the crowds, his laden pack still on his back. No sense going by the Apothecary’s shop since no doubt the old crone was out and about with the rest of the villagers. Voices carrying conversations he had no care for came and went as he pushed and coerced his way closer to the massive stone edifice. He chewed on some dry meat as he walked, ignoring any looks he may have received. His eyes were on the tower, and he listened to the voice that came from it. Despite having been in the village for several months, he was still an outsider and he was well aware of the fact. It didn’t help his reputation that he often disappeared into the mountains for days on end. Still, there were a few people who had been healed of an ailment by the Apothecary, and she had given him praise for finding rare medicinals. In this way, at least he assumed, he was not outright hated. The closer he got, the denser the crowds became. He didn’t like being pressed in on all sides by people. They smelled. He was used to mountain air, after all. Hefting his pack up closer, wary of groping hands, he spied a spot that looked relatively open. An old stump by some trees. A half-orc was occupying some of the space, but surely there was room for him? He recognized the spot’s guardian as some sort of religious acolyte of Suru, and recalled having bumped into him on several occasions. At any rate, it was a place clear of the more frenzied villagers, and that was very appealing. With a flicker of a grin, completely for himself, he headed over to the stump. Taking another piece of dried goat meat from a worn leather pouch at his side, he tore it in half as he approached the acolyte. Walking up, he made eye contact with the half-orc and nodded in greeting. Taking a seat on the stump, he offered up a half of jerky. “Mountain goat. Seasoned with herbs.” Despite the offer, Dain’s eyes and ears were clearly on the tower, and the pending issuance from it. It wasn’t that he was ignoring the half-orc, it was just that he seemed very focused on what was forthcoming. [/QUOTE]
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