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[IC] Egon's Lost Mine of Phandelver
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<blockquote data-quote="Egon" data-source="post: 6699199" data-attributes="member: 6800672"><p>Having figured out who was doing what, and making a cursory check of the wagon, you headed out from Neverwinter, traveling south/southeast along the High Road. The horse may not have looked the best upon first glance, but the beast has been keeping a better pace than the rest of you, and it seems that every time you decide to stop and eat or rest that the horse wishes to keep going. Looks, apparently, aren't everything.</p><p></p><p>The journey thus far has been easy, with nothing more than a mosquito or two to bother you the whole of the way. It was only earlier this morning that you broke camp where the High Road meets the Triboar Trail and started moving most easterly along the Trail. You've now been on the road for 2 and a half days, with the half of this day traveling having been on the Triboar. The trail is much different from the High Road, with some spots being merely ruts in the ground that carts and wagons can try to follow. Your footing isn't the greatest, with rocks and roots sticking up everywhere; if your footing is bad, imagine how the horse must feel.</p><p></p><p>It is nearing noon, which means it is almost time to stop for a spot of lunch, when you round a bend in the trail to a scene that is as gruesome as it is unexpected. 2 horses lie in the middle of the trail, black-feathered arrows sticking out from multiple places in their carcasses, the ground around them stained crimson and black. One of the horses you can see is missing one of its hooves, bits of broken bone sticking out from under blood-stained hair around where the ankle should be. The saddles and riding gear have been sprawled out along the trail, lying there as if tossed from high above without a care in the world, and the entire scene looks as though a tornado has run through, kicking up every bit of dirt and stone that could be found and dropping it unceremoniously where it pleased.</p><p></p><p>The trees from the wood on either side of the trail seem to press in closer here, and the light from the noon sun barely filters through from the sky to the ground. There is a foul stench in the air, and the hairs on the back of your neck seem to stand of their own accord.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Egon, post: 6699199, member: 6800672"] Having figured out who was doing what, and making a cursory check of the wagon, you headed out from Neverwinter, traveling south/southeast along the High Road. The horse may not have looked the best upon first glance, but the beast has been keeping a better pace than the rest of you, and it seems that every time you decide to stop and eat or rest that the horse wishes to keep going. Looks, apparently, aren't everything. The journey thus far has been easy, with nothing more than a mosquito or two to bother you the whole of the way. It was only earlier this morning that you broke camp where the High Road meets the Triboar Trail and started moving most easterly along the Trail. You've now been on the road for 2 and a half days, with the half of this day traveling having been on the Triboar. The trail is much different from the High Road, with some spots being merely ruts in the ground that carts and wagons can try to follow. Your footing isn't the greatest, with rocks and roots sticking up everywhere; if your footing is bad, imagine how the horse must feel. It is nearing noon, which means it is almost time to stop for a spot of lunch, when you round a bend in the trail to a scene that is as gruesome as it is unexpected. 2 horses lie in the middle of the trail, black-feathered arrows sticking out from multiple places in their carcasses, the ground around them stained crimson and black. One of the horses you can see is missing one of its hooves, bits of broken bone sticking out from under blood-stained hair around where the ankle should be. The saddles and riding gear have been sprawled out along the trail, lying there as if tossed from high above without a care in the world, and the entire scene looks as though a tornado has run through, kicking up every bit of dirt and stone that could be found and dropping it unceremoniously where it pleased. The trees from the wood on either side of the trail seem to press in closer here, and the light from the noon sun barely filters through from the sky to the ground. There is a foul stench in the air, and the hairs on the back of your neck seem to stand of their own accord. [/QUOTE]
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