Re: Scouting Group
Stepping over the threshold into the chantry’s courtyard Einarr performed a quick sweep of the area, looking for their two missing members than any signs of what had happened here. It wasn’t until he decided, rather optimistically, that they were probably fine and simply scouting the perimeter that he actually noticed the gouges cut into the stone.
Brow creasing he twisted about, moving in a slow circle, eyes searching for more unusual markings. Even in the dim light the shadows the cut made stood out starkly against the stone surface of both the chantry itself and the inner walls they had just walked past. Cocking his head to the side he moved closer, stepping as lightly as he could as if he was approaching a dangerous creature. Stopping before the wall he stretched out his arm and gently ran a hand over the largest groove. It was smoother than he expected it to be, not a mark he thought any weapon was capable of making. If it was a weapon that made it then the strength of the one behind it would have to be enormous. Beyond anything Einarr could even fathom.
The sudden sound of Conlan’s voice from behind him, breaking the almost sacred silence, had him tensing up in alarm. Einarr cursed at his own jumpiness and turned to look at the other Warden, jerking his head in a sharp nod. With one deep breath he steadied himself, one hand rising to grasp the hilt of his sword, and waited for something… anything to happen.
When the doors refused to budge he slumped over with a sigh and something like relief. A low laugh soon followed and he shot Conlan a weak grin. “If only that was the issue here. If only, if only.” Trailing off he wearily ran a hand over his eyes, the exhaustion of the day appearing all at once. He wanted to sleep and more than anything else he wanted to be as far away from this village as he possibly could.
The arrival of Matthew and Pavak had him straightening, lips quirking upwards at the welcome sight. He was glad that they were all together once more, almost all together he corrected. “Thank you,” he murmured softly, voice worn and tired. “We will return in the morning with the others.” Running a hand through his hair, tugging at it in an attempt to rouse himself, he looked toward the gate and the empty square beyond. “Let’s go. The others are waiting for us.”