Kylie Hammerhand
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There was something to be said about the early bird catching the worm, what it was, Kylie wasn't exactly sure. Why get up so early just to catch a worm when you could spend all day plucking seeds out of a freshly cut wheat field? Her uncle on the other hand seemed to think otherwise. Up before the sun, packed and ready to go. Never letting any moment of the day go to waste.
Kylie's uncle Balor sat next to her on the cart. He looked older than some would guess, or he would like to admit. With an almost completely white beard and hair, with most of that missing, and a look in his eyes that spoke of experience beyond his years. He quietly hummed a tune to himself as he guided the cart along a narrow path that lead down the mountain side. Kylie wasn't sure how high up they were, since the morning sun hadn't burned away the fog yet. A fog that obscured most of the path in front of them. She was glad it was her uncle steering and not her, then again it seemed like the old workhorse was doing most of the guiding, which she wasn't sure if that was much better.
Behind them were eight other carts, all loaded down with Dwarves and supplies, along with a lot of trade goods. All of them following her and her uncle on the hopes of finding a Dwarven outpost her grandfather had helped build well over a hundred years ago. An outpost where it was said that the silver just flaked off the walls. A few had followed in search of fortune, others just wanted to start a new life away from Belgrath. Much like Kylie and her uncle. No pressure, really, just leading a couple dozen Dwarves after a fabled Dwarven outpost was all.
As the sun began to rise further, the fog began to dissipate. In the distance, a faint shimmering could be seen below. "Ah, look at that!" Her uncle exclaimed. "That's the river on Dunan's map. We're getting close. At this rate we should be there by midday."
Kylie had studied the maps almost every day, kinda had to since she helped Balor navigate. The river at the bottom of this mountain was the same one her grandfather told them about. The outpost was supposed to be within sight of the beginning of said river, where it starts getting deep enough for small sailing vessels and near the point of the end of the Spine. Hopefully, once there they could set up camp and begin scouting the area. It had been a long trip just ge this far and with any luck, this would mark the end of one journey and the start of another.
Kylie's uncle Balor sat next to her on the cart. He looked older than some would guess, or he would like to admit. With an almost completely white beard and hair, with most of that missing, and a look in his eyes that spoke of experience beyond his years. He quietly hummed a tune to himself as he guided the cart along a narrow path that lead down the mountain side. Kylie wasn't sure how high up they were, since the morning sun hadn't burned away the fog yet. A fog that obscured most of the path in front of them. She was glad it was her uncle steering and not her, then again it seemed like the old workhorse was doing most of the guiding, which she wasn't sure if that was much better.
Behind them were eight other carts, all loaded down with Dwarves and supplies, along with a lot of trade goods. All of them following her and her uncle on the hopes of finding a Dwarven outpost her grandfather had helped build well over a hundred years ago. An outpost where it was said that the silver just flaked off the walls. A few had followed in search of fortune, others just wanted to start a new life away from Belgrath. Much like Kylie and her uncle. No pressure, really, just leading a couple dozen Dwarves after a fabled Dwarven outpost was all.
As the sun began to rise further, the fog began to dissipate. In the distance, a faint shimmering could be seen below. "Ah, look at that!" Her uncle exclaimed. "That's the river on Dunan's map. We're getting close. At this rate we should be there by midday."
Kylie had studied the maps almost every day, kinda had to since she helped Balor navigate. The river at the bottom of this mountain was the same one her grandfather told them about. The outpost was supposed to be within sight of the beginning of said river, where it starts getting deep enough for small sailing vessels and near the point of the end of the Spine. Hopefully, once there they could set up camp and begin scouting the area. It had been a long trip just ge this far and with any luck, this would mark the end of one journey and the start of another.