Sorithar January 2, 2023 “If only that bloody Owlbear hadn’t shown up." The halfling had never known he could run that fast. But where he had to dodge and weave, the beast just crashed through the bushes. Think. Think! Realising his only chance would be to outwit the hulking brute, Joaquin cut a few straight corners, like hares are want to do when chased by predators, searching for a suitable tree. There! With a final sprint he jumped up towards a lowhanging branch and pulled himself up. Swiftly Joaquin climbed further up the tree till he found a suitable perch. Even though owlbears, like their non-feathered brethren can climb, they are limited by their mass. All, the halfling now had to do was wait till the beast got bored. Unfortunately that took the better part of the evening, leaving him with the choice of climbing down and stumbling through an unknown part of the forest in the dark and possibly encountering Lathander knows what or - remembering the baying of a wolf pack nearby - staying up high and dry in the tree. “I just need a bigger branch." Joaquin climbed a few feet down, till he found a branch thick enough to sit comfortably upon and with his back against the trunk, Jaoquin pulled the hood from his cloak up and settled in for the night. “Not the warm and comfy bed I was hoping for." Soon the halfling was snoring softly but as the night progressed and temperatures dropped, he woke a tad drowsily and with a few tries even succeeded in pulling his bedroll out of the backpack. In the morning Joaquin was not really his cheerful self. His back was sore and his mouth tasted as if a spider had crawled in there to die. A few mouthfuls of tack rinced away with cold water were all he allowed himself before trying to make his way back to Rauthauvyr’s road. “ Adventures are overrated.” Off course, the mist did not help his orientation at all. He had the feeling he had been going in circles for the last half hour. So when Joaquin emerged from between the trees and found himself facing a small group of people, he felt some relief, and a bit of wariness. Rumours had been going around that it was dangerous in these parts of the woods. Still, it never hurt to be polite. The halfling pulled back the hood of his grey-green patched cloak, revealing a thin face encircled by brown-blond hair, kept in a ponytail. ”Greetings, milady. Would you believe a foul-tempered owlbear brought me this way? Galaith’s Roost? Could you point me to Mistledale.?" Joaquin noticed the bound Half-orc. “And what did this charming fellow do?"
Sorithar January 2, 2023 “If only that bloody Owlbear hadn’t shown up." The halfling had never known he could run that fast. But where he had to dodge and weave, the beast just crashed through the bushes. Think. Think! Realising his only chance would be to outwit the hulking brute, Joaquin cut a few straight corners, like hares are want to do when chased by predators, searching for a suitable tree. There! With a final sprint he jumped up towards a lowhanging branch and pulled himself up. Swiftly Joaquin climbed further up the tree till he found a suitable perch. Even though owlbears, like their non-feathered brethren can climb, they are limited by their mass. All, the halfling now had to do was wait till the beast got bored. Unfortunately that took the better part of the evening, leaving him with the choice of climbing down and stumbling through an unknown part of the forest in the dark and possibly encountering Lathander knows what or - remembering the baying of a wolf pack nearby - staying up high and dry in the tree. “I just need a bigger branch." Joaquin climbed a few feet down, till he found a branch thick enough to sit comfortably upon and with his back against the trunk, Jaoquin pulled the hood from his cloak up and settled in for the night. “Not the warm and comfy bed I was hoping for." Soon the halfling was snoring softly but as the night progressed and temperatures dropped, he woke a tad drowsily and with a few tries even succeeded in pulling his bedroll out of the backpack. In the morning Joaquin was not really his cheerful self. His back was sore and his mouth tasted as if a spider had crawled in there to die. A few mouthfuls of tack rinced away with cold water were all he allowed himself before trying to make his way back to Rauthauvyr’s road. “ Adventures are overrated.” Off course, the mist did not help his orientation at all. He had the feeling he had been going in circles for the last half hour. So when Joaquin emerged from between the trees and found himself facing a small group of people, he felt some relief, and a bit of wariness. Rumours had been going around that it was dangerous in these parts of the woods. Still, it never hurt to be polite. The halfling pulled back the hood of his grey-green patched cloak, revealing a thin face encircled by brown-blond hair, kept in a ponytail. ”Greetings, milady. Would you believe a foul-tempered owlbear brought me this way? Galaith’s Roost? Could you point me to Mistledale.?" Joaquin noticed the bound Half-orc. “And what did this charming fellow do?"
