“Cnëbra damnit, you’re such a rotten fool”
Why on earth he thought that the Forest of Shadows would be a good start for this journey, he’ll never know nor understand.
Perhaps danger equaled high reward? Nah, to hell with that. He was just a good old cjet olta (moron).
“The Forest of Shadow’s just a story for the kids, they said. You’ll be fine, they said” He muttered to himself, cutting away some blasted brush covering the one itty bitty pathway in the forsaken forest. He cursed in pain as a thorn bit into his left leg. With a little more force than necessary, he ripped it off and tossed it away.
“If I ever see that bartender again, I’m gonna’ beat him bloody.” He scowled.
“Listen here, Cnëbra, that Forest, ain’t nothin’ to it. Y’just take an itty pathway, brush a few cobwebs off y’ shoulders, and off y’are. It’s simple!” The cursed bartender had worn this smug grin, as if he were the only expert worth talking to. And how long had Cnëbra been stuck in this twisted place? Minutes? Hours? Days? Who knows?
Getting there was easy, Cnëbra had pranced around the fools for city guards perhaps dozens of times. This was no different.
It was once he reached the forest that things went downhill, for all Cnëbra could tell, he’d only walked in maybe thirty meters, and he was going at a snail’s pace. It was ridiculous.
The thought crossed his mind, of turning back. But that’d be oh so embarrassing. His reputation could be harmed, or worse, ruined! He’d be a mockery for months.
"Did little old Orphan Cnëbra get scared by a few trees? Did the squirrels rattle your nerves?”
Cnëbra scowled something fierce. No, screw them. He wasn’t coming back, not ever.
With that thought still in his head, footsteps caught his attention. He scurried to the side, wrapping himself around a thick tree. He stood there, unbelievably still, eyeing the newcomers.
It appeared that he wasn’t the only one making a journey through the Forest.
Such a strange group, they were.
A rawboned looking lass, just a teenager. Cnëbra didn’t know her, but he knew what she was. A thief, she had the walk, the look, the eyes. Constantly looking around, sometimes drifting and locking onto what was obviously not hers. No doubt about it.
The second one looked only a bit taller than the girl, their features obscured by the hood they wore. A mage, Cnëbra reckoned. No one else would wear such a horrid looking hood.
The final member, well, he was a beast. The man stood taller than the others, practically by a full head. He had the look of a blacksmith though, his apron still draped around him, and swords at his side.
If it weren’t for the girl, he’d have sworn this group would be easy pickings, if they had anything worthwhile.
‘Ha, everyone always has something worthwhile” he thought to himself.