Rainfall continued, turning the plains into a marsh. Boots squelched against the mud, streams fell down makeshift umbrellas, and all around, the [i]smell[/i] of the wolrd filled their senses. A verdant, mossy aroma that only intensified as they got closer and closer to the treeline. Pushing forward may not have been the best idea, but as muddied dirt turned into soft, bouncy moss, travelling became more pleasant, at the very least. Now, it was only going to be another half hour or so of travel before they reached what remained of the Redstone Mines.

What plans they'd wish to concoct would have to happen now. With Ettamri's steed, a stealthy approach was going to be rather unfeasible, no matter how dulled the senses of an undead may be.