Lost Knife Playground Options

[Grits]

.

The Lost Knife Hideout Adventure

Here we have the expedition from the Wobbly Goblet Inn to Lost Knife Hideout across the border in Skyrim. The plan was hatched in the Goblet somewhere right around here.

[Darkness Eternal]

In the wilderness, away from the campsite, Vera’s ears pricked forward and caught what her eyes could not see—the thumping of an owl’s wings in flight, the high-pitched cries of recently-awakened bats swooping in and foraging for insects in the chill dusk-filled air.

It was the busy rush of the hunters and the hunted, predators and prey, silent until the end. The death cry of a baby bird, taken in sleep on the nest by a marauding hawk, rocked her ear. There was a cut-short cry of a rabbit dying in the talons of the same owl from before that followed. Those and many others were captured by her senses in an unending variety of sounds of nature.

She also smelled many things around her; honey within a beehive just a few feet away from her head, or the smell of rotting fish being devoured by mudcrabs just down the river. She also scented a deer nearby; its musk as detailed as a spoken word, but that was game she didn’t have the desire to hunt at the moment.

Vera admired the sounds and the smells, savoring the familiar landscape of the north once again. She continued onward with a sack hanging over her shoulder that held three dead rabbits and a pheasant she personally killed an hour ago.

But that wasn’t enough. There was still one more pheasant to go, and this would be relatively easier, as it was being hunted by something else.

From afar, hidden behind a bush, she could see a red fox chasing a pheasant and before the avian creature could make flight, the fox was able to drag it down.

Vera casually left the hidden position and walked over to where the fox was. The creature, too occupied with the flapping animal in his mouth, paid no immediate attention to her until she was just a few feet away.

The fox, spooked once he spotted her, went into a full run. The presence of a superior hunter was so great that it left the injured pheasant behind.

Before the bird could run she put an end to it swiftly with her blade. They were naturally poor-sighted at dark, and with the dangerous animals about she knew it was already good as dead. The fox, on the other hand, could find something else to hunt. He had all night.

You'll have to make due with what the wilderness throws your way, Vera murmured inwardly.

After killing the bird, Vera filled a bottle with fresh water from the river, and then scoured the area and plucked away a family of jazbay grapes from a bush, holding them by the handful. She stored them away in her satchel instead of mixing them with the fresh game in the sack.

She was sure the emperor wouldn’t mind her taking these from the land, now. Those ridiculous laws held no power in this day and age. Now she could use them as appetizers. The ironwood nuts too, undoubtedly, was a great and easy snack that she was able to retrieve from the trees.

The sun sank just below the horizon and night was sometime away. Vera knew she had to get back to the group soon enough, after all, she was paid a great sum just to be present to make sure no outlaws or bandits would assault the group or anyone would get fatally wounded.

But in these lands it wasn’t just men and women with arrows and steel that could pose a threat. It was the wildlife, too. Sabrecats, bears, trolls and other natural creatures.

This much was certain to Vera, who headed on the trail back to where Darnand and the others had set up a makeshift camp. It was just in the Cliffside. Not only would it protect them from the snow or the rain, it would also serve as a high-point lookout.

There she also had a view of the miles-long distance; she saw high peaks, standing white-pure and unapproachable as a dream. The tall precipices mantled in rock and blankets of snow. She remembered the last time she was there. The moving sun sometimes cast rainbows and at other times, the peaks were covered with storm clouds or draped in morning mist. Then, the fog was naturally burned away by the light of the sun after eight in the morning.

The valleys were like bowls of flowers set in the snow that upon a certain time slowly turned to green in the long, summer days then brown with thick, rich leaves in autumn when the cold winter of the heights came down and reclaimed them.

All this she remembers when returning to the peak where the Breton and the others were. Along the way she came across a pack of wolves who set up territory nearby, six of them following each other until the alpha wolf stopped mid-stride and saw Vera’s fully ebony-armored figure walking in that direction. They didn’t attack, nor did they flee, instead they stared curiously as she carried a bag of meat over her shoulders.

Vera stared back at them and there was a kin-like moment in that communication of the eyes. She knew they wouldn’t bother the others, as long as she was there. They weren’t going to seek out a quarrel with people. They’d sooner pick off cattle and sheep from unsuspecting farmers than stalk a group of people camping out in the Cliffside.

One of the wolves howled, and the other sniffed with a whimper that followed shortly.

"Oh there's plenty for you out there, too." Vera said with a bare smile to the wolves as she walked twenty feet away from them. "You'll just have to work for it."

The huntress climbed up the steps of the hill and trekked into the path that led where the others were. She arrived just in time to see Kayla toss a snowball at the Breton.

She didn’t say a word as she passed by the woman and the targeted man. She needed to put the luggage down and get a fire started. Personally she'd eat the food raw. Making a fire did draw unwanted attention at times, but if they wanted to sacrifice a bit of safety for comfort, that's fine by her. She's not getting paid to sit around eating, that's for damn sure.

The Imperial sat down and pulled away the dead rabbits and pheasants from the sack, and set them all aside near the cave wall. Each of the furry and feathered animals had arrow holes in their body, marking the reason for their demise. Except for the last pheasant.

She took her gauntlets away and began skinning the rabbit with her bare hands. Everyone else could take the hint to build a fire. She could see the Breton had already started before he was interrupted by a snow-ball to the shoulder.