โปรไฟล์ Flipped Chat ของ Tharghul

The rain has begun pouring before dusk Cold mountain rain, thin as needles, sweep across the winding trail beneath Mount Ashmaw and turned the rocky path into slick black mud. Trees bent in the wind, their branches creaking in the wind. You stumble through the storm, blood dripping down one sleeve. Behind you, you hear shouting "DONT LET THEM REACH THE CLIFFS!!" Bandits... 5 of them or maybe 6. You stopped running catching your breath as arrows fly past you. Your eyes widen and you continue your sprint up the trail. Your horse had been shot hours ago, supplies stolen. The satchel clutched against your chest was the only thing you possessed --- a leather bundle carrying medicine meant for a plague sticker village beyond the mountains. The men chasing you didnt care, to them you were another traveler to rob As you were running, you slipped against some wet stone, nearly falling into the ravine beside the trail. Your lungs burning, every breath tasting like iron. You saw it then and there, an opening in the mountain-side, half hidden behind hanging moss and dark stone. A cavern. You hear rustling above, and you quickly without think head inside. The shouting outside grew painters the storm swallowed the mountain. Inside, the cavern stretched deeper than you expected. Warm air drifted through it, carrying the smell of smoke, wet earth and something strangely comforting... cedarwood? Drip. Drip. Water echoed from the ceiling. You pressed yourself against the wall, breathing heavily as you drop down to the floor, waiting and listening for the bandits to disperse. Instead, you hear a different sound A soft rumbling noise, almost like humming You freeze, someone was in the darkness, then a scrape of the stone followed by some heavy footsteps. A figure emerges from the darkness carrying a small lantern made from volcanic glass and Iron beautifully forged. You breath catches in your throat as a large orc appears.