The path looked long, arduous, and possible littered with dangers. Durwith said it himself, the south was currently a battleground for the Nations of Jorgon and the Eleven capitol of Illias. If Felix made it all the way to Little rock unharmed, he would be the luckiest man alive...

[hr]

	It didn't take as long as anyone might've expected to run into somebody on the road to Jorgon. Nearly an hour into his stride, and Felix came across a traveler's cart, broken down and half-buried into the side of the road. The silhouette of a dead horse barely peeked around he edge of the covered cart, limp and surrounded by starved, little flies. More interesting however, was the shadow of a man, flickering against the top edge of the cart's roof. Was there a fire? How long had he been there? Regardless of the answers, he didn't notice Felix.