pathfinderq1
First Post
Miranna had been even more quiet during the set-up of camp than she had been on the road. She helped out where she could, or where someone was willing to show her, but it seemed obvious she had little experience in the outdoors. Most of her life, it appeared, had been spent inside- where the trees were something seen in books or perhaps through a window; where food was prepared and fires lit by someone else, or by magic. As the others went about their tasks, though, she used any free moments to observe them- apparently trying to get a measure of those who fate had decreed to be her compatriots. Which ones would be brave, or cowards, or foolish, or wise?
Once the fire was built up, and the deer was roasting, she simply sat on her bedroll and took a few moments to hone the blade of her sword. Very soon, it seemed, that edge might mark the difference between life and death...
Once the fire was built up, and the deer was roasting, she simply sat on her bedroll and took a few moments to hone the blade of her sword. Very soon, it seemed, that edge might mark the difference between life and death...