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The Kalarian Precipice - Chapter Six
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<blockquote data-quote="97mg" data-source="post: 7433240" data-attributes="member: 6799460"><p>Having walked parallel with Kalair’s northwards road for several hours, you well and truly leave the outskirts of the southernmost settlement in your wake. With each step, your surroundings become less beaten and more organic and wild in form. Tall and sprangley evergreens reach high, their shade falling on an earth littered with hardy shrubs and bushes, the odd grey boulder here and there poking its head above the dark fertility of Marix Isle soil.</p><p></p><p>The heat and density of the air builds as this new day swings into the centre of morning. An occasional bird chirps or tweets, as warning of your arrival or the call to a mate from the branches above. A rustling in the undergrowth as you pass a small hollow in the stump of a tree. A trail of ants, diligent workers winding upon the throngs of a fern. The beauty and an appreciation of Kalair’s quieter places settles upon it's latest visitors.</p><p></p><p>Despite your numbers and the encumberment of long-distance supplies, as a whole the group’s movement is well planned and quiet. Following the path of a ranger certainly helps too. For now, becoming lost is nothing of a concern.</p><p></p><p>Those familiar with the road that is out there somewhere by your side, would know well that basic services for travelers aren’t too difficult to come by. For folk disinterested in city life, the foot, hoof and cart worn track is a source of trade. An hour ahead there would be a small general store, and a humble little tavern. Further on, a row of simple wooden huts where visitors can rest or freely camp, maintained by a kind hearted gentleman named Dod. All easy to reach with a short detour to your east.</p><p></p><p>All of a sudden, leaves rustle upon the ground, and Dain scouting at your front senses approaching life. Soft but furiously quick kicks against dirt. Then, in a flash of black, a rodent whips along the earth in front of you, before speeding up into the foliage of a neighboring tree. But that is not all. Somewhere out there, to your left a young voice calls out quite far in the distance.</p><p></p><p><span style="color: #B22222">“Mirella. Mirelllaaaa!”</span></p><p></p><p>More sounds then, but not a child’s footsteps yet. Like furry lightning a wild fox comes into view, startled by your presence and turning to glare in your direction with beady black eyes and the arisen alertness of a predator’s ears.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="97mg, post: 7433240, member: 6799460"] Having walked parallel with Kalair’s northwards road for several hours, you well and truly leave the outskirts of the southernmost settlement in your wake. With each step, your surroundings become less beaten and more organic and wild in form. Tall and sprangley evergreens reach high, their shade falling on an earth littered with hardy shrubs and bushes, the odd grey boulder here and there poking its head above the dark fertility of Marix Isle soil. The heat and density of the air builds as this new day swings into the centre of morning. An occasional bird chirps or tweets, as warning of your arrival or the call to a mate from the branches above. A rustling in the undergrowth as you pass a small hollow in the stump of a tree. A trail of ants, diligent workers winding upon the throngs of a fern. The beauty and an appreciation of Kalair’s quieter places settles upon it's latest visitors. Despite your numbers and the encumberment of long-distance supplies, as a whole the group’s movement is well planned and quiet. Following the path of a ranger certainly helps too. For now, becoming lost is nothing of a concern. Those familiar with the road that is out there somewhere by your side, would know well that basic services for travelers aren’t too difficult to come by. For folk disinterested in city life, the foot, hoof and cart worn track is a source of trade. An hour ahead there would be a small general store, and a humble little tavern. Further on, a row of simple wooden huts where visitors can rest or freely camp, maintained by a kind hearted gentleman named Dod. All easy to reach with a short detour to your east. All of a sudden, leaves rustle upon the ground, and Dain scouting at your front senses approaching life. Soft but furiously quick kicks against dirt. Then, in a flash of black, a rodent whips along the earth in front of you, before speeding up into the foliage of a neighboring tree. But that is not all. Somewhere out there, to your left a young voice calls out quite far in the distance. [COLOR="#B22222"]“Mirella. Mirelllaaaa!”[/COLOR] More sounds then, but not a child’s footsteps yet. Like furry lightning a wild fox comes into view, startled by your presence and turning to glare in your direction with beady black eyes and the arisen alertness of a predator’s ears. [/QUOTE]
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