676 Begnion year, early spring, Crimea.
Grey clouds tumbled across one another above, they were turning darker with each passing minute. Columns of mist blown inland from the norther coasts were dotted about the rolling countryside. Every time one passed over the company it self like walking underwater rather than on dry land. Moral was defiantly on the low side with the weather even though they had just chased off some bandits an hour or so ago with no real injuries to themselves. The drive wasn't there for some celebrating, just a haggard want for dry cloths and a dry bed.
Razgriz matted back some hair on his brow. "Fairpath" he bellowed. "Take your beast and go scout up the road a mile or so to the river. I don't want anything slowing us down from home. The rest of you have permission to continue griping".
Luna rolled over in her covers. She'd spent most of the day in bed curled up with her tail. Razgriz hates taking her out in wet weather. Wet dog smell you know.
Grey clouds tumbled across one another above, they were turning darker with each passing minute. Columns of mist blown inland from the norther coasts were dotted about the rolling countryside. Every time one passed over the company it self like walking underwater rather than on dry land. Moral was defiantly on the low side with the weather even though they had just chased off some bandits an hour or so ago with no real injuries to themselves. The drive wasn't there for some celebrating, just a haggard want for dry cloths and a dry bed.
Razgriz matted back some hair on his brow. "Fairpath" he bellowed. "Take your beast and go scout up the road a mile or so to the river. I don't want anything slowing us down from home. The rest of you have permission to continue griping".
Luna rolled over in her covers. She'd spent most of the day in bed curled up with her tail. Razgriz hates taking her out in wet weather. Wet dog smell you know.