Out of Character:
The carts cracked and groaned as they cut a slow tract across the country side. Four in all, the carts carried a mixture of fighters, weapons and goods. The group was mostly a policing force, given some goods in order to lure out whatever nefarious force sought to disrupt the trade route. So far the trip had been quiet. The forests sung a lazy tune as wind rustled through their leaves, and fields danced with rippling gold as stalks of wheat swayed in tune.
Two hours had passed and the carts continued their steady pace pulled forward by teams of two and three donkeys. The road cut through the country side, on one side the dancing gold, the other the singing green and above the sky of blue. The odd bird had followed the carts when the journey had begun in hopes of catching the odd discarded piece of food. For the last ten minutes however they had disappeared. The air seemed colder, the trees song somehow mournful and the wheat a funeral dance.
Jacob, the self appointed leader of this group of force stood up from his position at the front of the carts. His long blonde hair caught the wind, joining the wheat in a golden dance. His breastplate was a bright shine, polished to perfection and his blue eyes scanned the forest for any signs of danger. He turned from his seat and looked back across the caravans. People were restless, but maintained a certain level of stoicism, at least most did. Some of them seemed completely unware of the danger that lay around every corner. People were sitting on the goods they were transporting in the full carts, while other sat in empty ones fiddling with their gear.
“Call out any movement!” Called Jacob, turning back towards the road and placing a hand on his driver’s shoulder, “Don’t worry yourself Jeane, we are more than a match for anything in these forests short of the Corone Rangers!”
Jeane, a small man dressed in simple leather smiled weakly and flicked the reins to urge the donkeys forward.
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