The two men emerged from the forest just as the sun had begun to sink beneath the jagged mountain range that dominated the western horizon. Streaks of pink, orange and gold began to spread across the cloudless sky as the first minute sliver of the full moon appeared in the eastern sky.
The shorter man slowed his walk as he cleared the treeline, a step or two in front of his companion. He was dressed in a full suit of plate armour, save a helmet, wrought from steel and darkened so that it was nearly black. The image of a rearing griffon was inscribed on the centre of the breastplate in a fine gold inlay. A long sword hung from his left hip in a leather scabbard, and a wooden buckler, painted in similar fashion to his armour, hung from his back.
As he halted his walk, he spat on the ground, frowned, and eyed the mountain range warily.
"It's too quiet."
His companion drew level with him. Dressed in identical armour to the other man, he was both taller and broader in the shoulder, and carried the weight of the armour much easier. Instead of a long sword and buckler, he carried a large greatsword on his back.
He too turned his eyes to the mountains, but a smile played on the corner of his lips, rather than a frown.
"You're too stiff, Oren," he said, clapping the other man on the shoulder. The resounding clash of gauntlet on pauldron sent a flock of ravens fluttering from the trees behind the two, cawing angrily as they turned north.
"There should be a patrol in these foothills," Oren said. "I see no sign of them."
The other man nodded. "Perhaps the pass has been snowed in. They might simply be locked within the fort at Kazem."
"Maybe." Oren's eyes moved from the mountains to his companion. "Should we turn away for the night, Leon? We can double back to the outpost in the forest, and wait for morning."
"I'd rather press on. We can reach the fort by midnight. It will be almost dawn by the time we reach the outpost in the forest." Leon scanned the mountain range. "But if the pass is snowed in, we'll have to turn around regardless."
Oren held his silence until Leon turned back to him. "We'll press on. We'll take the road through the foothills, to the foot of the mountains. If we don't see any signs of the patrol there, we'll turn back."
The shorter man slowed his walk as he cleared the treeline, a step or two in front of his companion. He was dressed in a full suit of plate armour, save a helmet, wrought from steel and darkened so that it was nearly black. The image of a rearing griffon was inscribed on the centre of the breastplate in a fine gold inlay. A long sword hung from his left hip in a leather scabbard, and a wooden buckler, painted in similar fashion to his armour, hung from his back.
As he halted his walk, he spat on the ground, frowned, and eyed the mountain range warily.
"It's too quiet."
His companion drew level with him. Dressed in identical armour to the other man, he was both taller and broader in the shoulder, and carried the weight of the armour much easier. Instead of a long sword and buckler, he carried a large greatsword on his back.
He too turned his eyes to the mountains, but a smile played on the corner of his lips, rather than a frown.
"You're too stiff, Oren," he said, clapping the other man on the shoulder. The resounding clash of gauntlet on pauldron sent a flock of ravens fluttering from the trees behind the two, cawing angrily as they turned north.
"There should be a patrol in these foothills," Oren said. "I see no sign of them."
The other man nodded. "Perhaps the pass has been snowed in. They might simply be locked within the fort at Kazem."
"Maybe." Oren's eyes moved from the mountains to his companion. "Should we turn away for the night, Leon? We can double back to the outpost in the forest, and wait for morning."
"I'd rather press on. We can reach the fort by midnight. It will be almost dawn by the time we reach the outpost in the forest." Leon scanned the mountain range. "But if the pass is snowed in, we'll have to turn around regardless."
Oren held his silence until Leon turned back to him. "We'll press on. We'll take the road through the foothills, to the foot of the mountains. If we don't see any signs of the patrol there, we'll turn back."
