[center][color=FFCE00][h2][u]The Snakeburrow Woods[/u][/h2][/color][/center]

[center][sub]16th of the Full Autumn Moon, 1698 P.A.
Night - Overcast skies[/sub][/center]

[color=skyblue]"Hm, hm, hm. Wilderness cults?"[/color] Cerric pondered, rubbing sleep from his eyes. [color=skyblue]"Thought they were all scared off, honestly. Uh, there are those strange self-proclaimed nature guardians lurking through Snakeburrow but they don't command any real power. A handful can tweak a few wisps of aether, but most are disgruntled farmers and urchins looking for a way to feel larger than their lot in life. The truly devoted ones are solitary, feral things and the ones Melanar favors are… well, I'd rather be on the wrong end of a dull Buscanian blade in a dark alley."[/color]

[color=Orange]"We ain't mean no harm to you and yours. Let us go, and we'll be right on past you and forget you in the process."[/color] Jar promised. 

A little further away, Esvelee rolled her eyes at the conversation happening just out of camp. [color=mediumspringgreen]"Bah, these damned cults. Should let the bandit run them through. Always being a bother to the farms just outside of Soft Haven's reach, you know. Claiming they're acting on Melanar's behalf. Bunch of thieves, the bastards. If Agitha still had her legs, she'd have 'em grovelin' in snap."[/color]