An Adventurer's Tale/The Undead Part 7

Roleplay from Baldhart (13 minutes ago)
Message sent to all adventurers in the vicinity of Grehk (11 recipients)
"I hate carts," Baldhart grumbled, rocking back and forth as the mule team pulled the creaky wooden box over the muddy and pockmarked road towards Grehk. "Hate Donkeys, too," he mumbled, half asleep, exhausted. "One stomped me good, once. Broke my foot."

Across from him, Calibann and Danost stirred absentmindedly, Danost with his head laid over the side of the cart, snoring loudly.

The fields began to thin to low cut grass, and in the distance the walls of Grehk rose high, its thick base surrounded by ramschackle huts that poured smoke out into the purple glow of twilight.

"Danost," Baldhart called as the Cart pulled closer to the open portcullus that lead inside the City's Walls. His partner stirred, and slipped back to sleep.

Grumbling, he looked forward as a throng of peasants passed through ahead of them. Whistles, catcalls and hoots came from somewhere deep inside and, looking up, Baldhart saw dozens of sets of eyes peering through him through the murderholes.

Inside the Fortress, a temporary camp had been set up, a dozen richly coloured pavillions, pennants fluttering from their center-pole, surrounded by a handful of drab canvas tents.

Baldhart recognized one of them, directly across from him, behind Danost. He kicked his part hard in the shin. "Wake, damn you!" he hissed.

Danost came awake with a grunt, bleary eyed and weary. "Where have we seen those Arms before?" Baldhart asked, pointing behind him.

Danost turned, glanced at the fluttering pennants atop the pavillion, and jerked back around, cursing as he pulled the cawl of his cloak over his head.

"Herkan!" he hissed.

Baldhart laid flat in the back of the cart. "Maybe we shouldn't linger in,ummm, Grehk too long, eh?"

Baldhart (Freeman)