Jan 31, 2020 11:23 pm
Your journey has slowed, not because you are tired or because something else hinders you. It is because all sense of time and distance has been swallowed up by the white fog that surrounds you. You had a direction to travel set before you entered the mist and you have not wavered, but how long can you keep going in the same direction before need to turn or you break through the fog arrives?
Your pace has been steady and sure and then the ground before you dampens and changes, the road/trail goes from hard packed dirt to a grassy knoll, a fine mist like shower fills the air, which itself drops a noticeable degree or two.
You can see nothing but white all around you, the fog thick and seems to try and cling to your body. All sound has been muted and it feels like your submerged under a great body of water. You take one more step and then stop wondering what is going on and how to correct it.
A gust of wind starts up blowing gently at first before picking up strength. The thick fog which hasn't moved no matter the gale, starts to churn and resist, but then moves to the force of nature. What truly leaves you stunned and shocked is the revelation of the buildings before you, along with a group of individuals who also stare slightly wide-eyed at what the mist have revealed.
Thick grey clouds gather far to the east and north, around the mountain range in the distance. The village you are standing before appears to have withstood a number of winterstorms; the walls of the buildings are clearly weatherworn; their paint has long since peeled and heavy shutters adorn every window. There is little color here; the clouds have even the leaves of the trees and bushes grey and lifeless.
The breeze picks up once more, flipping your cloaks about as if nature itself was warning you to turn back. A name can just be made out on a weathered sign on a post by the road "Orașnou".
Your pace has been steady and sure and then the ground before you dampens and changes, the road/trail goes from hard packed dirt to a grassy knoll, a fine mist like shower fills the air, which itself drops a noticeable degree or two.
You can see nothing but white all around you, the fog thick and seems to try and cling to your body. All sound has been muted and it feels like your submerged under a great body of water. You take one more step and then stop wondering what is going on and how to correct it.
A gust of wind starts up blowing gently at first before picking up strength. The thick fog which hasn't moved no matter the gale, starts to churn and resist, but then moves to the force of nature. What truly leaves you stunned and shocked is the revelation of the buildings before you, along with a group of individuals who also stare slightly wide-eyed at what the mist have revealed.
Quote:
Thick grey clouds gather far to the east and north, around the mountain range in the distance. The village you are standing before appears to have withstood a number of winterstorms; the walls of the buildings are clearly weatherworn; their paint has long since peeled and heavy shutters adorn every window. There is little color here; the clouds have even the leaves of the trees and bushes grey and lifeless.
The breeze picks up once more, flipping your cloaks about as if nature itself was warning you to turn back. A name can just be made out on a weathered sign on a post by the road "Orașnou".
OOC:
everyone in the party is present
