Dragonhead yielded nothing new, instead offering the first of the day's bad news. Victory was on the mend but not enough to join Warren on his efforts. The man hardened his heart to the poor animal's plight, fighting off the roots of guilt that attempted to creep inside of him. He gave his friend an apple from the sack of them, the bird snuffling the fruits out as soon as they were presented. For a moment it appeared as if he hadn't been wounded at all as he gobbled the snack up. Warren hoped the offering helped the 'bo to forgive him for being so neglectful.
Warren's plan was simply to gather information. His demeanor was far different than it would have been when he was here asking last; He had been touched by Soma's hand on top of actually having rested, and he was in unassuming clothing designed to combat weather instead of weapon. He would assume nothing and simply ask if a blue-haired woman or a desert cat had come through, one way or the other.
The results were almost night and day compared to his initial line of inquiry. Where his questions a week past came from a Free Paladin and thereby garnered a small degree of cooperation, none of the guards in Dragonhead felt the need to deign an adventurer with their support. If there was a trail there it had long gone cold.
Appropriate.
Warren's eyes skimmed the countryside as he began the trek on foot to Whitefront. He didn't want to borrow a bird that wasn't his own, and he rationalized that the slower pace would give him time to scan for signs of anything. He thought back on the words of those who had given him support when the rumblings of despair crept in.
It's been a week. If there was anything to find, it's buried a fulm in the snow or in the bellies of roving scavengers.
It's been a week. If they made it this long, they can make it another few short bells. They're both resourceful. Don't give up.
When he found his way to the gates of Whitebrim, he was surprised to find his questions regarded much differently than down the road.
"Good day, sirs. I don't mean to be a bother but I'm searching for friends who came through here perhaps some days ago." He ran down the descriptions, making mention to the fact they wouldn't have been together, not exactly, but both passing through and likely keeping to themselves. The men at the gates exchanged a look that Warren didn't like much.
They came through here. Someone had to have noticed. They had to come through. They know something, look at them they're just not sure who's going to speak first they-
"We think we've found the girl, sir. Are you here to identify the body?"
Warren felt the black fist of the Beast close around his heart.
Warren's plan was simply to gather information. His demeanor was far different than it would have been when he was here asking last; He had been touched by Soma's hand on top of actually having rested, and he was in unassuming clothing designed to combat weather instead of weapon. He would assume nothing and simply ask if a blue-haired woman or a desert cat had come through, one way or the other.
The results were almost night and day compared to his initial line of inquiry. Where his questions a week past came from a Free Paladin and thereby garnered a small degree of cooperation, none of the guards in Dragonhead felt the need to deign an adventurer with their support. If there was a trail there it had long gone cold.
Appropriate.
Warren's eyes skimmed the countryside as he began the trek on foot to Whitefront. He didn't want to borrow a bird that wasn't his own, and he rationalized that the slower pace would give him time to scan for signs of anything. He thought back on the words of those who had given him support when the rumblings of despair crept in.
It's been a week. If there was anything to find, it's buried a fulm in the snow or in the bellies of roving scavengers.
It's been a week. If they made it this long, they can make it another few short bells. They're both resourceful. Don't give up.
When he found his way to the gates of Whitebrim, he was surprised to find his questions regarded much differently than down the road.
"Good day, sirs. I don't mean to be a bother but I'm searching for friends who came through here perhaps some days ago." He ran down the descriptions, making mention to the fact they wouldn't have been together, not exactly, but both passing through and likely keeping to themselves. The men at the gates exchanged a look that Warren didn't like much.
They came through here. Someone had to have noticed. They had to come through. They know something, look at them they're just not sure who's going to speak first they-
"We think we've found the girl, sir. Are you here to identify the body?"
Warren felt the black fist of the Beast close around his heart.
![[Image: yEROfKO.png]](http://i.imgur.com/yEROfKO.png)
