With the dragon out of sight, and out of mind our half-blood duo heads of South-West towards the great Orc City of Marg Udzon. Travel across the soft and fertile hills of the Orc Plains is quick and easy, game is plentiful, and the southern breeze carries the sweet scent of fresh Yaupon berries. A full day of travel and our duo is but an hour outside of the Orc trading city of Oz Vidge, known for their pride and their willingness to cooperate and trade when others would fight and take what they please. A safe haven for any traveling these lands awaited them. But first, a nights rest for the day ahead.
Tucked into the trees, and after setting camp our duo drifts off to sleep; unaware of who or what may be watching them through the darkness.
SNAP a lone twig breaks suddenly in the dead of night. Gorgamesh lies asleep, unaware of the intruder in their midst. Laucians eyes snap open, teeth gritted and fist clenched around his bow he looks to source of the sound. It's shape is unmistakable, it is the shape of a wolf. But why did it stop? Why does it stand there so still? for so long? It looks like a wolf, but spending years in the woods, years hunting, and tracking, something does not seem right. What is this wolf that's not a wolf?
Waiting no longer, Laucian leaps up bow in and lets an arrow fly towards the wolf that isn't a wolf. No sooner than Laucian's arrow clears his bow, the wolf that 's not a wolf turns and leaps off into the darkness, disappearing into the moonless night. Seemingly confident the creature will not be returning, Laucian tucks himself back into his bedroll and drifts back off to sleep.