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"It's worth the risk," you say. "I have no other leads toward Joannus. We can always flee at the first sign of danger."
"I'm with you," she says.
You get up and hoist your gear sack over your shoulder, deciding on the downward-sloped path that leads northwest.
You stop in your tracks. Something inexplicable is unsettling you.
Ireena seems to sense it too. "There's something on the wind," she says.
She's right. Not even the cloying fog can hide the stench of death that descends upon you. Something evil approaches, and footsteps betrayed by the sound of snapping twigs.
You see movement in the trees. There is no time to hide.
(cont.)
