B
BrattyCommissar
Guest
Original poster
It had been only a couple of hours since the group began to walk along the lone road out of Shadecreek, and through the marsh woods that surrounded the area. Thick expanses of trees flanked either side of the road for so long, illuminated in part by the filtered sunlight through their branches and leaves, and by the burning protective charms that were meant to keep the road safe for travel. Every once in a while, a stretch of the road would be hefted up onto poles and the dirt replaced with deceptively rickety boards over a stretch where the waters were high, but they would lower back to dirt paths overgrown with life creeping into the roads.
A plethora of insect life audibly kept in pace with the travellers, buzzing as they followed along, hungry for a snack of blood as mosquitoes were wont to do. Birds with low scooping beaks and great wings moved lazily between the foliage, swooping down to grab at the tainted waters for feed, while others with beaks narrow and sharp stabbed away for their meals. At the approach of the villagers they flew off, startled by the entourage.
Occasionally a stretch of road would be flooded in shallow waters, as small fish and mud dwelling crustaceans ebbed in the lazy to still currents of their homes. Dry paths were not always an option, but such stretches were usually small and very infrequent. There was little worry, few problems, and all in all the road held itself together for those who walked upon it.
And then, it hit a fork.
One path stretched on slightly northward, while the other did the opposite, instead turning south, but the both of them carrying an eastward trend, away from Shadecreek that sat upon the western coast. Both were dirt and stone, neither looking particularly well kept in contrast with the other, although the path south looked more worn.
A plethora of insect life audibly kept in pace with the travellers, buzzing as they followed along, hungry for a snack of blood as mosquitoes were wont to do. Birds with low scooping beaks and great wings moved lazily between the foliage, swooping down to grab at the tainted waters for feed, while others with beaks narrow and sharp stabbed away for their meals. At the approach of the villagers they flew off, startled by the entourage.
Occasionally a stretch of road would be flooded in shallow waters, as small fish and mud dwelling crustaceans ebbed in the lazy to still currents of their homes. Dry paths were not always an option, but such stretches were usually small and very infrequent. There was little worry, few problems, and all in all the road held itself together for those who walked upon it.
And then, it hit a fork.
One path stretched on slightly northward, while the other did the opposite, instead turning south, but the both of them carrying an eastward trend, away from Shadecreek that sat upon the western coast. Both were dirt and stone, neither looking particularly well kept in contrast with the other, although the path south looked more worn.