He arrives in woodland
on the outskirts of a hilly region. Already it is dusk, which annoys
him more than it should.
“Always night,” he
mutters to himself, “Would it be too much to ask, just once, for a
day in the sun?”
There's no reply of
course, not that he's expecting one. Once he's gathered his bearings
he finds a road and follows it downhill, towards a settlement of some
kind in the distance. From the look of it, it's a town of some kind.
The light of candle and hearth flickers through windows, plumes of
smoke dance in the breeze above various chimneys, the road itself
improves with every step he takes.
He knows he's going in
the right direction. He can see it in the air, a thin cloud of
sparkling dust, draped like a cape across the whole area. He takes a
long sniff, tasting the air, drinking in the atmosphere.
It's not long before he
sees them. Still more than a mile from the hamlet, a mischief of
rats circling an unidentifiable carcass. A few paces more and he
spies a second group.
“This one wont end
well,” he shudders as he continues his journey.
