Ofelie

A great confusion!

No sooner had the group reached the summit, than a great host of black feathered birds flew in..many were slain but even more escaped, too swift for any arrow to find its mark. Donhelm posted guards around the summit and the remainder made camp in the light of the setting sun. He walked to the eastern edge and peered into the distance.

From Bree they rode in the storm. Ever south and east keeping to the road, moving fast. Much to the displeasure of a few of the hardier dwarven warriors, they passed the Forsaken inn and galloped on. On the sheltered porch of the inn, sat a man, whittling on a piece of wood. He barely glanced up as the group rushed by. Gray spectres driven by the wind

 

A few miles on Donhelm signalled a halt. They dismounted and made a small camp. Donhelm took from his pack an old well used map and peered at it. He became aware of someone standing behind him.