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- Joined
- Aug 1, 2016
- Location
- In my happy place.
Greesha frowned at the poorly drawn map he was holding. It took him over half a moon cycle to gather the information that helped create this map. It started in the "city" of Gallan's Glen, a large town that barely had a palisade around it let alone a proper city with walls. He had to suffer the idiots of the town, their fear and hate for longer than he had wanted. Going from tavern, to inn, to his surprise a bookshop to find any scraps of information on his newest target. He was happy to leave Gallan's Glen and travel into the country to continue his search to for the ruins that were rumored to be in the area. Stopping at several farms along the way, only being chased away from two of them, he asked about the ruins and steadily grew closer to where they were supposed to be. The last farm he stopped at, a rather large affair that housed a family of at least two dozen, pointed him into the thick wood that he was currently misplaced in. Greesha was certainly not lost. They had told him of a place found about six miles into the wood that fit a general description of what he was looking for.
Growling at the map he tucked it back into his bag and stood from the stump he was sitting. He hung his two heavy bladed axes in the loops on the sides of his belt then gathering his supplies into his saddlebags. Tossing the bags over his shaggy mare. Giving the horse's flank a hearty pat he grinned at her. "Time to go again Bela." Grabbing the reigns he lead the horse through the trees deeper into the wood hoping this was not another false lead.
Several hours later Greesha stood stock still his upper lip curled in a snarl as he glared hatefully at a tree. The bark was torn at about his chest height and he recognized the markings, Goatmen. Greesha hated these creatures on a very personal level. Dropping Bela's reigns he held a finger up to his lips and with intelligence that seemed beyond the horse, she flicked her mane in what appeared to be a nod and took several steps back. Easing his axes from their hoops he crouched and began to creep forward. As much as he hated them, knowing that Goatmen were nearby only confirmed the ruins he was searching for were close. Small herds were known to take over ruins, abandoned villages or other places of easy shelter. Following the markings, which grew in frequency and becoming more elaborate, twisted bundles of twigs, vine and grasses used as idols for their strange and mostly unknown Gods, Greesha soon came upon the first signs of the ruins. The remains of a low stone wall that was almost completely covered in overgrowth. Following the wall he almost broke the tree line but stopped and dropped to his stomach. His size made hiding a bit more difficult but years of experience countered that. Looking past the end of the wall and through the last few lines of trees he saw the broken remains of a few stone buildings, but no movement.
Crawling on his stomach he drew closer until he was certain he saw no Goatmen moving. Raising to a crouch he crept to to the last line of trees and looked around the best he could, nothing living that he could see. Unfortunately the whole area smelled of wet fur, offal, and worse. Keeping to the trees he circled the ruin scouting what he could from the outside. The run was a collection of five standing buildings surrounding a much larger one. There was no sign of the Goatmen there, which told him several things. They were a small herd, they were fairly new to the area, and that he didn't have much time before they came back with their hunt. Standing to his full height, a few inches above seven foot tall, he drew his axes and stalked towards the ruin. He couldn't get a clear sight of the center and that was here he was certain he would find something to make this trip worth it.
Moving past the first of the buildings he finally laid eyes on the center building. The roof was missing but all the walls here mostly intact, and outside them was a crudely made cage with someone inside it. "Blood and ashes." Greesha cursed under his breath. This just made things more complicated. Glaring around the still saw nothing and hoped that it would stay that way for a while longer. Jogging to the cage he looked inside and sneered. Just his luck, a bloody elf. She was on the ground bound and gagged but he could see she was breathing. It only took a second of hesitation before he acted. Greesha knew all to well what Goatmen did to captives before they ate them, especially women. With two brutal swings he made short work of the wooden cage's wall. Setting his axes aside he knelt to the elf and unbound her before collecting his weapons and taking a step away from here. Multiple questions ran though his head but his mouth worked before his brain gave permission. "Why is a knife ear like you way out here?"
Growling at the map he tucked it back into his bag and stood from the stump he was sitting. He hung his two heavy bladed axes in the loops on the sides of his belt then gathering his supplies into his saddlebags. Tossing the bags over his shaggy mare. Giving the horse's flank a hearty pat he grinned at her. "Time to go again Bela." Grabbing the reigns he lead the horse through the trees deeper into the wood hoping this was not another false lead.
Several hours later Greesha stood stock still his upper lip curled in a snarl as he glared hatefully at a tree. The bark was torn at about his chest height and he recognized the markings, Goatmen. Greesha hated these creatures on a very personal level. Dropping Bela's reigns he held a finger up to his lips and with intelligence that seemed beyond the horse, she flicked her mane in what appeared to be a nod and took several steps back. Easing his axes from their hoops he crouched and began to creep forward. As much as he hated them, knowing that Goatmen were nearby only confirmed the ruins he was searching for were close. Small herds were known to take over ruins, abandoned villages or other places of easy shelter. Following the markings, which grew in frequency and becoming more elaborate, twisted bundles of twigs, vine and grasses used as idols for their strange and mostly unknown Gods, Greesha soon came upon the first signs of the ruins. The remains of a low stone wall that was almost completely covered in overgrowth. Following the wall he almost broke the tree line but stopped and dropped to his stomach. His size made hiding a bit more difficult but years of experience countered that. Looking past the end of the wall and through the last few lines of trees he saw the broken remains of a few stone buildings, but no movement.
Crawling on his stomach he drew closer until he was certain he saw no Goatmen moving. Raising to a crouch he crept to to the last line of trees and looked around the best he could, nothing living that he could see. Unfortunately the whole area smelled of wet fur, offal, and worse. Keeping to the trees he circled the ruin scouting what he could from the outside. The run was a collection of five standing buildings surrounding a much larger one. There was no sign of the Goatmen there, which told him several things. They were a small herd, they were fairly new to the area, and that he didn't have much time before they came back with their hunt. Standing to his full height, a few inches above seven foot tall, he drew his axes and stalked towards the ruin. He couldn't get a clear sight of the center and that was here he was certain he would find something to make this trip worth it.
Moving past the first of the buildings he finally laid eyes on the center building. The roof was missing but all the walls here mostly intact, and outside them was a crudely made cage with someone inside it. "Blood and ashes." Greesha cursed under his breath. This just made things more complicated. Glaring around the still saw nothing and hoped that it would stay that way for a while longer. Jogging to the cage he looked inside and sneered. Just his luck, a bloody elf. She was on the ground bound and gagged but he could see she was breathing. It only took a second of hesitation before he acted. Greesha knew all to well what Goatmen did to captives before they ate them, especially women. With two brutal swings he made short work of the wooden cage's wall. Setting his axes aside he knelt to the elf and unbound her before collecting his weapons and taking a step away from here. Multiple questions ran though his head but his mouth worked before his brain gave permission. "Why is a knife ear like you way out here?"