Team 4
@[member="Miri Shorn"] @[member="Aronis Vilgar"]
Trudging through the Marsh was harsh. Remorseful. The grey waters, the grey mists. Every step sloshing and slogging along. Every sound a warning. Phil didn't enjoy the experience but relished the silence. It was slow goings and he took his time. The creatures of the Marsh left him alone. Their curiosities came so close as to follow him a few times. Serpents in the water, but nothing out of place. Nothing overtly suspicious.
So he continued until the grey waters turned to brown dirt. The Marsh fell away and the bush line of the forests arose with a sundering breeze. The mists departed or fell low against the ground. The creatures stopped swimming and started climbing now. Rustling the trees. Every slow step was now spent snapping apart the twigs and leaves of the underbrush. Traversing the ravines and avoiding the pitfalls of rough terrain. Parting the low branches away from his helm and listening for the prattling sounds of paw-prints or daggered claws. It was a patient trek. Following the whispers of the Force. Never wandering. Always placing one foot in front of the other. Moving forward. Towards the prize.
Towards the whispers of the caves below.
@[member="Miri Shorn"] @[member="Aronis Vilgar"]
Trudging through the Marsh was harsh. Remorseful. The grey waters, the grey mists. Every step sloshing and slogging along. Every sound a warning. Phil didn't enjoy the experience but relished the silence. It was slow goings and he took his time. The creatures of the Marsh left him alone. Their curiosities came so close as to follow him a few times. Serpents in the water, but nothing out of place. Nothing overtly suspicious.
So he continued until the grey waters turned to brown dirt. The Marsh fell away and the bush line of the forests arose with a sundering breeze. The mists departed or fell low against the ground. The creatures stopped swimming and started climbing now. Rustling the trees. Every slow step was now spent snapping apart the twigs and leaves of the underbrush. Traversing the ravines and avoiding the pitfalls of rough terrain. Parting the low branches away from his helm and listening for the prattling sounds of paw-prints or daggered claws. It was a patient trek. Following the whispers of the Force. Never wandering. Always placing one foot in front of the other. Moving forward. Towards the prize.
Towards the whispers of the caves below.