Post by whisky on Dec 8, 2017 20:36:04 GMT -8
Whisky drew his cloak tighter around his tired body.
Two nights had passed since he had entered the forest just outside the safety of the city walls.
A deep rumble broke through the gentle chirping of insects, causing the Rogue to snicker involuntarily.
Yes, running out of provisions in a forest full of game was not his proudest moment, he reflected.
Yet, burdened down with his prize lion skins he clung on to the promise of reward. The extra coins these skins would bring in would be enough to rent a room at the local inn, plenty of ale, and company..
It was really the fault of those light-cursed city guards that he was still out here. Why they don't just let people through in the dead of night was beyond him. Do I really look like a thief? He muttered under his breath.
He stopped to check the tracks he was following. Bear tracks. Fresh, and heading west. He briefly considered setting up camp for the night, but almost immediately discarded the idea. One more hide to sell would extend his leisure time by what, maybe a whole week?
That's when the night air was rent apart by a gutteral roar - sending the rogue off balance in shock!
Recovering quickly with svelt grace, Whisky dropped to one knee, his hand instinctively reaching towards his belt for his dagger.
Nothing.
What?!
Double light-cursed orc! He immediately remembered discarding his trusty dagger in favor of the bloodied orc axe which was now slung across his back.
He fumbled, overburdened with skins and trophies, trying desperately to retrieve his weapon..
Too late - a giant paw swiped through the air, sending the rogue flying back into a tree where he paused, stunned.
The great black bear loped towards him, jaws slavering with spittle, and in an instant it was upon him.
Whisky felt the hot fetid breath of the beast blast his face as its open jaws bore down towards his exposed neck.
A minute later, in the heights of the overlooking trees, the insects resumed their chirping.
Two nights had passed since he had entered the forest just outside the safety of the city walls.
A deep rumble broke through the gentle chirping of insects, causing the Rogue to snicker involuntarily.
Yes, running out of provisions in a forest full of game was not his proudest moment, he reflected.
Yet, burdened down with his prize lion skins he clung on to the promise of reward. The extra coins these skins would bring in would be enough to rent a room at the local inn, plenty of ale, and company..
It was really the fault of those light-cursed city guards that he was still out here. Why they don't just let people through in the dead of night was beyond him. Do I really look like a thief? He muttered under his breath.
He stopped to check the tracks he was following. Bear tracks. Fresh, and heading west. He briefly considered setting up camp for the night, but almost immediately discarded the idea. One more hide to sell would extend his leisure time by what, maybe a whole week?
That's when the night air was rent apart by a gutteral roar - sending the rogue off balance in shock!
Recovering quickly with svelt grace, Whisky dropped to one knee, his hand instinctively reaching towards his belt for his dagger.
Nothing.
What?!
Double light-cursed orc! He immediately remembered discarding his trusty dagger in favor of the bloodied orc axe which was now slung across his back.
He fumbled, overburdened with skins and trophies, trying desperately to retrieve his weapon..
Too late - a giant paw swiped through the air, sending the rogue flying back into a tree where he paused, stunned.
The great black bear loped towards him, jaws slavering with spittle, and in an instant it was upon him.
Whisky felt the hot fetid breath of the beast blast his face as its open jaws bore down towards his exposed neck.
A minute later, in the heights of the overlooking trees, the insects resumed their chirping.
