Cooling waters of the rushing river washed over him like he had been a protruding formation among racing rapids, scrubbing away the dust and sweat of his journey thus far had been a refreshing start to the day. His feet groped soft soil byway of the Bradbury river bed when exiting, sliding on travel-worn black breeches and reddish-brown boiled leather tunic when banking had once again been found. Sepia laden hair dripped wet, and Garron pulled it back into a low ponytail, tying in a thin leather strap to fall his hair to grace between broad shoulder blades. He laced up his boots and strapped up his leather belting. Garron gathered up his warhammer loosely held in right hand, then wandered back to where his bedroll and items lay dormant along the shoreline.
The days prier weighed heavily on Garrons’ body. Battling bandits and creatures along the way doomed a heavy toll to this point. Bruises, lacerations and exhaustion pushed him to limits end and he was left with thoughts of why the northern portion of Concoria had fallen to such disarray. He knew well the Rangers were on point, as his mother was an outgoing ranked member and as prior tag-along missions forced upon him to join served him. He always refused invitation, and always will. Something had been different around the local vicinity lately. Bandits were more brazen and creatures stirred with irritation.
Strange sounds trumpeted shrieks, chirps and screams out of the forest wall as Corones’ sun crept along towards its mid-day peek. Garron couldn’t make out much sense of what filtered out of the wood, for it had been muffled by thick trunk, ancient ruins and abundant leaf. He knew something was off and it unsettled him. The unrest was clear and he started off west to the northern road to possibly find some clues along his way to its path towards Radasanth.
