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Pocketing the ring for now, you smile at the ranger until you remember he probably can’t see the gesture and opt for a friendly nod instead. You owe him for this, big time, and no amount of brushing it off is gonna convince you to not repay him!
“We’ll see. I’m very good at brushing off repayments.” Morook replies with a twinkle in his bulbous eyes. “Volka, are you prepared?”
“Rmmhrm!” Replies your guide as she finishes off the remaining stew. “Jusht reev it tr mrrh.”
“The path is about eighty strides ahead,” the ranger explains as he turns his gaze ahead of you. “Stay on it for an hour or so and you should reach the main road into Crossroads. Tread lightly and trust Volka–it’s what I’d do.“
“Gee, you’re really painting a fancy picture of me, Mor…” The warrior laughs with a sheepish look in her yellow eyes. “You take care of yourself too, y’hear?”
“I’ve got it down to an art by now, thanks.”
Morook’s gaze fades into the darkness as you and Volka make your way to the aforementioned path, the periodic creaks and clanks of her unseen armor making her easy to follow. True to his word, Morook’s instructions guide you out of a sea of tall grass and onto a flat, but narrow, dirt path. The choppy winds buffeting your face tell you you’re on a bluff of some kind… too bad you can’t get a glimpse of the view from here.
“Alright, Crossroads here we COME!” Announces your guide with a triumphant laugh! Adding your own spirited ‘Hell yea’, the word ‘yea’ nearly dies in your throat as you feel something pick you up by the scruff of your robe!
“Woah, sorry!” Sputters Volka after you let loose a gut-wrenching shriek, “It’s me! It’s ME!”
You can hear that, you reply, but why is she <span class="mu-i">carrying</span> you!?
“Oh uh…” Volka begins in a bashful tone, “I just thought it’d be easier for you since you don’t have much travel experience… and you’re pretty light…”
Yea, well, you sputter as you once again realize just how big Volka is, she could at least ask! You thought you were getting taken by a giant bird or something!
“Sorry! Sorry!” She repeats with growing embarrassment, “I just get so used to doing it, that’s all! My dad’s a Durher and he’s getting old, so…”
Okay, you sigh, but does she carry Morook?
“Well no, but he’s forgotten more about the Darklands than you or I will ever know!”
Taking a few more steps along the path, Volka’s metal boots come to a halt after an awkward silence settles in between you.
“Do um… would you prefer to walk?”
>Yea, let me walk!
>No, it’s fine… for now.
>Write-In!
