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Something Must Be Done...Part 2: Rumors©2007 Sonja
Torres The view from The Pouch was clear
and vivid after a fresh spring rain. Greywarden's eyes tracked the road
and took in the varied landscape around him. The flat brown and lighter
green of a few small farms broke the deeper green of tall stands of
evergreens. The mountains lay beyond, their secret passes hidden deep
among their winding valleys. Snow still covered them, but at their feet,
the crisp green of spring was making its annual climb upwards. In
places, the evergreens gave way to alder and sturdy maple, their tender
young leaves not yet fully open, and they in turn gave way to strips of
grassy meadows. * * * * * Elsewhere on the trade route, a day or two distant from the Merchant
Guild meeting, the Crossroads Inn was unusually quiet. A sullen mood
hung in the air like the stench of death. The shopkeeper absently
wiped a glass, the same glass he'd been polishing for the past 5
minutes, as he looked over his nearly empty inn. Instead of the
bustling crowds of traders that always heralded spring, there were
only 2 small groups, their few wagons too small to be called a
caravan. The merchants’ faces were careworn, and those of their
guards were haggard with the strain of too much wariness and too
little sleep. Their conversations were hushed, as if speaking too
loudly might call upon them the doom that had befallen their missing
peers. The innkeeper did not need their words. He'd heard the same
whispered story for a month now.
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updated 4-13-07