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   Chapter 7 No.7

The Adventures of Larson and Garrett - A People Defiled By AaronDennis Characters: 5107

Updated: 2018-01-08 12:03


"Cicatriz, old friend, gather everyone; from now on, we rest only during the day. Let's move. Larson, Seanessy, Garrett, thank you for lending your blades to our cause, and thank you Wilma and Yoris as well. Lyalla…thank you for healing those injured. I hope we see no more bloodshed for the remainder of this trip, yet…we have two days to go."

The old merchant then shook his head in sorrow and turned. They all noticed he raised a trembling hand to his mouth, but he walked off to gather camping supplies. Most everyone else followed suit; Cicatriz ran off to see his friend, so Larson and the gang used the opportunity to converse.

"You don't think maybe someone from Glennmoor chased Thomas into the mountains. Maybe he hurt his leg running from them, " Garrett posed.

"What about those cultists in Stormguard, and the ones in the Xorinth sewers; twice, we've found people murdered by this manner, " Larson trailed off.

"How do the ogres fit inta' all this, " Seanessy asked. "Any chance it was Thomas what killed the other two?"

"No telling, " Garrett replied.

"I'd wager Mathew killed them though, the other ogres, " Lyalla said.

Yoris nodded. It was why he had stared at Larson and Garrett, but he mentioned nothing about it. Wilma cocked a brow at her compatriots.

"I seen the work o' magick and blades on those beasts. I'd reckon the elf and thief are with him, " she commented.

"Why not make themselves known, " Yoris pried.

"Yas' can never guess what that bloke's up to, " Seanessy replied.

alk to him when we make the next camp."

Garrett nodded, and they started mixing in with everyone. It took some effort to wrap up the dead and place them in a cart. With heavy hearts, they packed everything and began moving up the road, leaving evidence of a brutal battle behind them. No one said a word for a long time; they all glanced at the glittering stars in the night sky, kicked small rocks, or ran their hands along the cliffs through which the trail had been naturally carved. Eventually, the western glow of a sun soon to rise lifted spirits.

It wasn't long after a bright morning that everyone grew exhausted, both physically and emotionally. Some people had begun to stumble. Others were passing out on their horses or on the benches of their wagons. People griped and grumbled, begging for a bit of safe, flat terrain; they needed rest. By the time the sun was nearly overhead, they were all marching down towards the end of the mountain trail; a barren, rocky landscape stretched out before them.

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