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<blockquote data-quote="Lazybones" data-source="post: 7060316" data-attributes="member: 143"><p>Book 2: STARTER QUEST/FINDING THEIR FOOTING</p><p></p><p>Chapter 10</p><p></p><p>The Dry Hills weren’t really that dry, when you got down to it. While there weren’t any actual forests or meadows full of blooming flowers there was plenty of plant life, from the stubble of weeds that filled in the gaps between the boulders on the stony crests to the sere tangles of brush that populated the low points between the rises. Travel through the region would have probably been easier if the place <em>was</em> as stark as its name suggested. They had particular difficulty navigating the gullies thick with thornspike and the prickleburrs that took advantage of every last bit of soil on the steep hillsides.</p><p></p><p>Occasionally their route led them over a crest that offered an expansive view of the region. There was a certain stark beauty to this place, but Kosk barely paid it any heed. He’d spent enough time in places like this in his past, places close enough to the trappings of civilization to be profitable but isolated enough to provide shelter from the searching eyes of those who protected the civilized folk. It hadn’t been that long ago in terms of years, but in terms of who he had been and who he was now, it may as well have been a lifetime.</p><p></p><p>Kosk wasn’t the right bastard he’d been back then, but he allowed himself a certain smug pleasure at pressing the children to a hard pace. He could admit privately that maybe his calves were feeling a bit tight and that the muscles in his back had started to twitch. He would not have been surprised if the tally of his years was higher than that of his three companions put together. But he’d put his body through a lot worse both before and after dedicating himself to the monastic path, and he had no difficulty pushing on through the pain.</p><p></p><p>Around midday—a lingering low overcast made it difficult to tell exactly—they paused for a break along one of the rocky crests. The boy smith flopped down, exhausted. The girl, to her credit, seemed better off, but then again she wasn’t carrying around a ridiculous weight of armor and unnecessarily large weapons. That sword of his might have looked impressive, but Kosk had taken down men like him with nothing more than a dagger.</p><p></p><p>A different life, the dwarf reminded himself.</p><p></p><p>Quellan came over to join him. The half-orc didn’t seem winded, but then again Kosk knew he was the sort who wouldn’t complain even if he had an arm hanging by just a few sinews. They stood there together in companionable silence while the dwarf checked the map. They’d agreed Kosk would carry it since he had the most experience with wilderness travel. He didn’t really need to take a look, as he also had a good memory and they were still a good day at least from the general region where they would find their destination, but it was something to do while he waited for his friend to say his piece.</p><p></p><p>“You’re pushing them rather hard,” Quellan said finally.</p><p></p><p>“So? If they can’t keep up, then they should open their mouths.”</p><p></p><p>“This may startle you to hear it, but you can be a little intimidating sometimes.”</p><p></p><p>Kosk snorted, but after a moment shot their resting companions a quick look before returning to his scrutiny of the landscape spread out in front of them. In a softer voice he said, “You know that the two of them won’t last two seconds if we run into something real bad out here. You do know that?”</p><p></p><p>“I think they might surprise you,” Quellan replied.</p><p></p><p>Kosk happened to glance over at that moment, so he saw the way the cleric’s eyes flicked over at the others as he turned to leave. Saw the way they lingered in one spot in particular.</p><p></p><p>“Oh, lad, you’re asking for trouble,” the dwarf muttered under his breath.</p><p></p><p>The terrain grew even more rugged as the day went on, and their pace slowed regardless of Kosk’s efforts. The hills grew steeper, forcing them to go around rather than over them, though that hardly made the journey easier. At one point they made their way into a ravine that offered no way out, forcing them to backtrack and lose a full hour’s progress. They found just enough sources of water to keep their bottles full and ease worries of a shortage. Quellan had prepared a spell that would cleanse any impurities out of any standing pools they encountered, but thus they had found just enough flowing streams and springs that they hadn’t had to use his magic.</p><p></p><p>They were moving though a strand of scattered trees interspersed with knots of dry thornspike when Kosk felt a sudden premonition of danger. He’d long since learned to trust his instincts, but as he scanned their surroundings he detected no obvious threats. He’d heard small animals scurrying deeper into the undergrowth at their approach and they’d startled the occasional cluster of small birds into flight over the course of the day, but this felt different.</p><p></p><p>He glanced back at the others. They’d gotten a bit strung out, though Quellan was only about fifteen paces back and the girl, bringing up the rear, was maybe twice that. In between them the boy smith was trudging with his head lowered, apparently completely oblivious to his surroundings. Kosk had to bite back a curse.</p><p></p><p>Quellan looked up and obviously saw something on his friend’s face, for he reached for his mace. “What…” he began.</p><p></p><p>He didn’t get a chance to finish his question before an arrow shot out from the trees. It narrowly missed the cleric and shattered against a rock a bit further down the slope.</p><p></p><p>That got the smith’s attention, as his head shot up and his eyes grew wide. “Ambush!” he yelled.</p><p></p><p><em>No kidding</em>, Kosk thought as he dove for cover.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Lazybones, post: 7060316, member: 143"] Book 2: STARTER QUEST/FINDING THEIR FOOTING Chapter 10 The Dry Hills weren’t really that dry, when you got down to it. While there weren’t any actual forests or meadows full of blooming flowers there was plenty of plant life, from the stubble of weeds that filled in the gaps between the boulders on the stony crests to the sere tangles of brush that populated the low points between the rises. Travel through the region would have probably been easier if the place [i]was[/i] as stark as its name suggested. They had particular difficulty navigating the gullies thick with thornspike and the prickleburrs that took advantage of every last bit of soil on the steep hillsides. Occasionally their route led them over a crest that offered an expansive view of the region. There was a certain stark beauty to this place, but Kosk barely paid it any heed. He’d spent enough time in places like this in his past, places close enough to the trappings of civilization to be profitable but isolated enough to provide shelter from the searching eyes of those who protected the civilized folk. It hadn’t been that long ago in terms of years, but in terms of who he had been and who he was now, it may as well have been a lifetime. Kosk wasn’t the right bastard he’d been back then, but he allowed himself a certain smug pleasure at pressing the children to a hard pace. He could admit privately that maybe his calves were feeling a bit tight and that the muscles in his back had started to twitch. He would not have been surprised if the tally of his years was higher than that of his three companions put together. But he’d put his body through a lot worse both before and after dedicating himself to the monastic path, and he had no difficulty pushing on through the pain. Around midday—a lingering low overcast made it difficult to tell exactly—they paused for a break along one of the rocky crests. The boy smith flopped down, exhausted. The girl, to her credit, seemed better off, but then again she wasn’t carrying around a ridiculous weight of armor and unnecessarily large weapons. That sword of his might have looked impressive, but Kosk had taken down men like him with nothing more than a dagger. A different life, the dwarf reminded himself. Quellan came over to join him. The half-orc didn’t seem winded, but then again Kosk knew he was the sort who wouldn’t complain even if he had an arm hanging by just a few sinews. They stood there together in companionable silence while the dwarf checked the map. They’d agreed Kosk would carry it since he had the most experience with wilderness travel. He didn’t really need to take a look, as he also had a good memory and they were still a good day at least from the general region where they would find their destination, but it was something to do while he waited for his friend to say his piece. “You’re pushing them rather hard,” Quellan said finally. “So? If they can’t keep up, then they should open their mouths.” “This may startle you to hear it, but you can be a little intimidating sometimes.” Kosk snorted, but after a moment shot their resting companions a quick look before returning to his scrutiny of the landscape spread out in front of them. In a softer voice he said, “You know that the two of them won’t last two seconds if we run into something real bad out here. You do know that?” “I think they might surprise you,” Quellan replied. Kosk happened to glance over at that moment, so he saw the way the cleric’s eyes flicked over at the others as he turned to leave. Saw the way they lingered in one spot in particular. “Oh, lad, you’re asking for trouble,” the dwarf muttered under his breath. The terrain grew even more rugged as the day went on, and their pace slowed regardless of Kosk’s efforts. The hills grew steeper, forcing them to go around rather than over them, though that hardly made the journey easier. At one point they made their way into a ravine that offered no way out, forcing them to backtrack and lose a full hour’s progress. They found just enough sources of water to keep their bottles full and ease worries of a shortage. Quellan had prepared a spell that would cleanse any impurities out of any standing pools they encountered, but thus they had found just enough flowing streams and springs that they hadn’t had to use his magic. They were moving though a strand of scattered trees interspersed with knots of dry thornspike when Kosk felt a sudden premonition of danger. He’d long since learned to trust his instincts, but as he scanned their surroundings he detected no obvious threats. He’d heard small animals scurrying deeper into the undergrowth at their approach and they’d startled the occasional cluster of small birds into flight over the course of the day, but this felt different. He glanced back at the others. They’d gotten a bit strung out, though Quellan was only about fifteen paces back and the girl, bringing up the rear, was maybe twice that. In between them the boy smith was trudging with his head lowered, apparently completely oblivious to his surroundings. Kosk had to bite back a curse. Quellan looked up and obviously saw something on his friend’s face, for he reached for his mace. “What…” he began. He didn’t get a chance to finish his question before an arrow shot out from the trees. It narrowly missed the cleric and shattered against a rock a bit further down the slope. That got the smith’s attention, as his head shot up and his eyes grew wide. “Ambush!” he yelled. [i]No kidding[/i], Kosk thought as he dove for cover. [/QUOTE]
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