At the crack of dawn, a cock crowed from below in the market place, announcing the start of a new day. Warik turned miserably on the tiny bed, the abused mattress sagging under his weight. He had already secretly repaired the legs of the bed, having splintered them his first night in the bunkhouse. “Aaah. Moonshade Outpost. Catering to witches, dwarves, and other assorted hot-heads,” he thought to himself, dragging a calloused palm over his tired eyes. “This has got to stop.”
Less than an hour later, with a relatively full belly, he left the bunkhouse feeling irritable. The small beds and low beams of the dormitory, the constant comings and goings, the lack of privacy—it was enough to drive a man mad for lack of sleep. Not to mention the ever-watchful presence of the outpost’s stalwart captain, Arboneth Koning, with her perverse sense of justice. Was she ever a thorn in his side!
At the stables, he saddled Chota, his loyal yarnosaur, and rode north into the hills, keeping a steady gait through the thickening woodlands.
Continue reading “Exploring the Mountain”