FitzTheRuke
Legend
The Gates of Howling Crag
~11am on Starday, 27 Patchwall, 576cy.
Donnell, Gimlak, and the Colonel approached the gates of Howling Crag on foot. They were a humble delegation, and it had been a long nearly five-hour hike in high winds, first down from their campsite over the gorge, and then up the long winding wide trail. The weather was terrible, and a few high-velocity rains had struck them from the north while they climbed. The two stone giants at the gates hollered in the giant tongue, ::Go back the way you came, small folk! There is nothing here for you!::
The enormous torches that lined the path up blew sideways across the trail, forcing them to hug the left-hand side (southward) to avoid the worst of the sputtering, greasy smoke from the (hopefully) animal fats that kept them from blowing out.
Kahru had avoided the predatory gaze of the ice-hawk, and was now sitting under the shelter of the northmost spire, not far from the gatehouse. From his vantage, he could see both his allies as they approached the gates, and the giants by the bonfire, who grabbed rocks from the rockpiles when they heard the tower guards call out into the windy morning. They waited impatiently to see if they'd be called to defend the gate, as the caged owlbear squawked in protest at its lack of freedom.
~11am on Starday, 27 Patchwall, 576cy.
Donnell, Gimlak, and the Colonel approached the gates of Howling Crag on foot. They were a humble delegation, and it had been a long nearly five-hour hike in high winds, first down from their campsite over the gorge, and then up the long winding wide trail. The weather was terrible, and a few high-velocity rains had struck them from the north while they climbed. The two stone giants at the gates hollered in the giant tongue, ::Go back the way you came, small folk! There is nothing here for you!::
The enormous torches that lined the path up blew sideways across the trail, forcing them to hug the left-hand side (southward) to avoid the worst of the sputtering, greasy smoke from the (hopefully) animal fats that kept them from blowing out.
Kahru had avoided the predatory gaze of the ice-hawk, and was now sitting under the shelter of the northmost spire, not far from the gatehouse. From his vantage, he could see both his allies as they approached the gates, and the giants by the bonfire, who grabbed rocks from the rockpiles when they heard the tower guards call out into the windy morning. They waited impatiently to see if they'd be called to defend the gate, as the caged owlbear squawked in protest at its lack of freedom.