From the Darkness
Part 5
he caravan traveled slowly along the makeshift road, wooden wheels groaning in protest at the load they were being forced to pull. Drawn by a couple of horses and flanked by two more, it moved slower than it usually would, for the road was barely there any more. with the landscape changed beyond repair by the cataclysm, the old, reliable road was now a mass of overgrown earth, covered with vegetation and cracks big enough to break a horse's leg. In places the cracks were filled with flowing waters washed up from the coast.
The combination of these natural hazards made slow going even slower as the caravan lurched around another leg-width crack. The two free-roaming horseman moved next to the cart, one slightly ahead, checking for obstructions, the other next to the cart itself, ever vigilant for the odd stray tree branch, or felled good. They moved slowly past a patch of thick forest, oblivious to all else except their caravan's safe travel.
Eager, hungry eyes watched from the canopy. They swept the caravan, lingering on the coachman. A large branch creaked slightly as weight was shifted to and fro on it. A flash of red fur moved as the sparse sunlight hit it. A clawed hand tightened on the branch, digging into the bark. A yellow set of fangs gleamed as a horrid face contorted into a grin.
Morvai had spent the last few days hunting along the borders of Ashenvale and Darkshore. The game was slightly better than his previous haunts. Mostly young, tender animals that were just again beginning to flourish after the events that re-shaped the world. Morvai had delighted in ending their young lives and feasting upon their still-warm flesh. However, after a while, he had become bored with his travels, and began itching to sink his claws into some real game.
The crimson satyr watched the caravan edge closer from his perch. He saw the two riders, and a snarl of uncertainty creased his features. While considered a bloodthirsty demon who would kill all in his path, Morvai was also cautious. The two riders would pose a problem if they decided to bolt. It was rare for humans to travel through Darkshore. It was long considered kal'dorei lands. They may have been a pilgrimage, or possibly traveling merchants, looking to sell exotic goods from their homelands. Morvai cared not for their goods, nor their reasons for being there. However, he had just seen something very interesting.
The cloth that stood behind the caravan driver parted slightly, revealing a humanoid shape. A hand reached out and rested on the driver's shoulder. A face with an alien caste peered out, said a few words to the driver, who nodded and turned back to the road. The cloth barred his view once more, but Morvai had seen it. There were blueskins in the caravan!
The combination of these natural hazards made slow going even slower as the caravan lurched around another leg-width crack. The two free-roaming horseman moved next to the cart, one slightly ahead, checking for obstructions, the other next to the cart itself, ever vigilant for the odd stray tree branch, or felled good. They moved slowly past a patch of thick forest, oblivious to all else except their caravan's safe travel.
Eager, hungry eyes watched from the canopy. They swept the caravan, lingering on the coachman. A large branch creaked slightly as weight was shifted to and fro on it. A flash of red fur moved as the sparse sunlight hit it. A clawed hand tightened on the branch, digging into the bark. A yellow set of fangs gleamed as a horrid face contorted into a grin.
Morvai had spent the last few days hunting along the borders of Ashenvale and Darkshore. The game was slightly better than his previous haunts. Mostly young, tender animals that were just again beginning to flourish after the events that re-shaped the world. Morvai had delighted in ending their young lives and feasting upon their still-warm flesh. However, after a while, he had become bored with his travels, and began itching to sink his claws into some real game.
The crimson satyr watched the caravan edge closer from his perch. He saw the two riders, and a snarl of uncertainty creased his features. While considered a bloodthirsty demon who would kill all in his path, Morvai was also cautious. The two riders would pose a problem if they decided to bolt. It was rare for humans to travel through Darkshore. It was long considered kal'dorei lands. They may have been a pilgrimage, or possibly traveling merchants, looking to sell exotic goods from their homelands. Morvai cared not for their goods, nor their reasons for being there. However, he had just seen something very interesting.
The cloth that stood behind the caravan driver parted slightly, revealing a humanoid shape. A hand reached out and rested on the driver's shoulder. A face with an alien caste peered out, said a few words to the driver, who nodded and turned back to the road. The cloth barred his view once more, but Morvai had seen it. There were blueskins in the caravan!