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Feint Whispers Chapter #6: A Modest Proposal
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<blockquote data-quote="jasamcarl" data-source="post: 1366492" data-attributes="member: 1251"><p>The Fist continues down the trail. Noon comes quickly, though you would not know it as the thick canopy becomes more ardent in blocking the sunlights path to the floor of the forest. You can feel your steps become more strained as your realize that your path is gradually to a higher elevation, the soil under your feet becoming more rocky. Despite this, the woods are all the more dense and yet strangly more lifeless as well. The only sounds are the squaking of crows and the flapping of their wings.</p><p></p><p>By mid-afternoon it is clear that you are headed into the foothills of the Serpentcoil. Suddenly you see eight large figures emerge from the tangle of tree trunks from some 150 feet up the trail accompanied by the sound of horses hooves hitting rock. The are riders, heavily armed and armored, bedecked in the livery of the noble house of Evenwood, a vestige of honor that works against the easily spotted exhaustion of both horse and rider. Its only when they are nearly on top of you that they stop and each member of the Fist is able to recognize some of them as the riders who interecepted them at the edge of the Evenwood. Conspicuously absent is their leader, Galvan Evenwood, nephew to the Lord. </p><p></p><p>Halted 10ft infront of Tarowyn, one of the riders, a gruff bearded fellow, speaks, "Declare yourselves, strangers of the Evenwood.." he squints at the party before recognition washes over his features, "Oh, Duvik's freebooters. What business do you have in these goblin-infested woods? The vermin are both everywhere and nowhere..." he looks all most paranoid as he allows his gaze to scan the woods "We've been especially wary of the Crow-feast tribe; they have a company of elite scouts stalking these woods at night.." he focuses back on the party, specifically Jericho, his dark brow furrowed, "Answer, D'orite. How do you still live this far from the keep? What are you here!?" he is almost shouting.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="jasamcarl, post: 1366492, member: 1251"] The Fist continues down the trail. Noon comes quickly, though you would not know it as the thick canopy becomes more ardent in blocking the sunlights path to the floor of the forest. You can feel your steps become more strained as your realize that your path is gradually to a higher elevation, the soil under your feet becoming more rocky. Despite this, the woods are all the more dense and yet strangly more lifeless as well. The only sounds are the squaking of crows and the flapping of their wings. By mid-afternoon it is clear that you are headed into the foothills of the Serpentcoil. Suddenly you see eight large figures emerge from the tangle of tree trunks from some 150 feet up the trail accompanied by the sound of horses hooves hitting rock. The are riders, heavily armed and armored, bedecked in the livery of the noble house of Evenwood, a vestige of honor that works against the easily spotted exhaustion of both horse and rider. Its only when they are nearly on top of you that they stop and each member of the Fist is able to recognize some of them as the riders who interecepted them at the edge of the Evenwood. Conspicuously absent is their leader, Galvan Evenwood, nephew to the Lord. Halted 10ft infront of Tarowyn, one of the riders, a gruff bearded fellow, speaks, "Declare yourselves, strangers of the Evenwood.." he squints at the party before recognition washes over his features, "Oh, Duvik's freebooters. What business do you have in these goblin-infested woods? The vermin are both everywhere and nowhere..." he looks all most paranoid as he allows his gaze to scan the woods "We've been especially wary of the Crow-feast tribe; they have a company of elite scouts stalking these woods at night.." he focuses back on the party, specifically Jericho, his dark brow furrowed, "Answer, D'orite. How do you still live this far from the keep? What are you here!?" he is almost shouting. [/QUOTE]
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Feint Whispers Chapter #6: A Modest Proposal
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