The light of the world suddenly appeared, blindingly brilliant to the companions. They had been underground for near two days, and their rations, while not running low, were being used more than intended, for ideally they would have gone from frontier town to frontier town whenever they could, and perhaps hunt along the way as well if possible. But so far they had been beset by monsters and tragedy, and underground perils before they now made it to safety. 

Argon and Geradin walked beside Settione after he had conversed with Aeryn. Arguably the two most inhuman members of the party, it was almost comical to see the sophisticated 'priest' of the trickster God converse with them casually. For his part, Argon was quite confused. "Path?" the Saurdraxus echoed. "I have always been a hunter and slayer of beasts...When I wasss young, I was taken from a hunt and made to fight in the arena. I won my freedom, one might sssay." 

"I don't bother with your human Gods, if that is what you mean." Geradin replied gruffly. He seemed somewhat suspicious of Settione for even asking, and held his tongue for a moment, regarding the man. "Our Gods and what they bestow upon us are sacred. I do not 'prefer' any of them. Each deserves proper respect! But I am beholden to who some might call the most grim God. Ragnarok."

[hr]

Through the brush and thick trees that surrounded the first mile outside of the cavern, they could see a village. Slightly bigger than a hamlet. In fact it looked to be an almost enlarged Motte and Bailey, with the ground dug up around the outskirts of the village. Of course the buildings were made of timber, and it seemed, foolishly so, they had no palisade wall up. Though the basic defenses did look halfway finished within the ditch, for spikes poked out of the bottom. 

It was only necessary in the Southland. It was necessary in the Northland, but in the Southland the old magic and beasts still roamed. Villages popped up nearly as quickly as they disappeared, but disappeared they often did. If it wasn't for the stream of refugees that braved the seas and mountains that led to the primeval forests of the South, much of the human presence would cease to be in a few generations, for foolishly they settled in areas they made for themselves within the jungles, and did not have the experience or eldar expertise of the Dwarves or Elves. 

As they made it toward the village, they would see a short and stout bridge that led over the half formed ditch. Beren crossed his muscled arms as he regarded the opened gate. Out stepped a few men in beraggled chainmail and longbows aimed at the companions. Calanon had his weapons up and sheathed, and Beren did not reach for his axe. Geradin seemed cranky, but he made no move to show aggression other than a glare. Argon was oblivious, but it was only by sheer luck the Saurdraxus did not have his huge and wicked sword out. Instead his tongue flickered out, tasting the air. 
[@The Fated Fallen][@BCTheEntity][@Gardevoiran][@Stormflyx]