Kezenne smiled. It was a nice day to be wandering aimlessly through a magical forest. Sparklebirds were flying and sparkling joyfully above the treetops. The quiet dirt road was in surprisingly good condition, other than the occasional smouldering hoof-craters left by infernal deer. The only unnatural sound was the rhythmic clinking of her iron armour, and after years as a wandering adventurer she found that comforting.
A horse-drawn cart emerged up ahead, around a bend in the road. The horse was going at a steady canter, and the cart was loaded up with large boxes beneath sackcloth. Kezenne waved a greeting at the driver and stepped off of the road, into the cover of the trees. The driver, a stocky middle-aged man, nodded back curtly. He seemed tense. One of his hands rested on a crossbow on his lap.
An enraged orc warrior in tattered animal hide and bone armour leaped out of the ferns on the far side of the road, in a huge twisting jump that Kezenne could tell would easily take the o