![]() ![]() Kel smiled at them, splotches of sweat staining his clothes. ![]() The air hummed with a deep, unknowable energy. The light expanded, covering Kel, who squeezed his eyes shut. ![]() The minotaur responded by scooping up the dwarf and pulling him to the other side of the fire. Perspiration formed in beads on his face, then seemed to come off him in waves. Pulsing blue light snaked up his arm to his neck. Clutched within it was a sharp blue stone. Kel continued to mutter, but as he did, he slowly lifted his hand from his pocket. Kel shoved a hand into his pocket and began to mutter. Pollock looked around wildly, his axe shifting from hand to hand like a game-sack. Rayst growled as the bushes began to shake. Somewhere beyond the edge of the clearing, in the direction of the setting sun, came the sounds of great movement. The whole point is that we aren't nearly prepared for this." "Crippled, wrinkled, knobber," Pollock cursed, hefting his axe. A minotaur assassin was not unheard of, but it was a rare sight. Rayst stood to full height, the daggers along his belt swinging. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, before shifting his weight back onto his creaking seat.Ī horn sounded in the distance. "Go out on a limb? Shove his stick elsewhere?" "Perhaps Kel," he said in his rough, rolling voice. Rayst leaned forward with sudden intensity. "Let me guess, you wed the first tree with a well sized hole." "I just made love to my sweet wife," he said ceremoniously. He had an aura of trustworthiness, like a kind innkeeper. His face held a comfortable fat and an easy joviality. The bard was a smooth human, slightly rotund. It would be night soon.īehind them, Kel emerged from the trees, covered in sweat. The underbrush surrounding them grew thick and ominous. They'd camped in a small clearing, the sun having long since dipped behind the high treeline. In the forest behind both of them, there was a flash of blue light. He sat cross legged near the heat, his axe resting blade up on his shoulder. "He went for a piss," said Pollock the dwarf, who did not dwarf anything, much less the fire. Smoke billowed off of them as the flames scorched their bark. It was mid-spring, and the only branches they'd found were green leaved and fresh. Rayst was a big beast, even for his kind, and the tree stump he'd commandeered as a seat nearly warped under his weight. ![]()
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