Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-10197675-20151221214753/@comment-10197675-20151222150335

Meanwhile within a fortified cave high in the Jerall Mountains...

Varlgon awoke from his limited rest and pulled himself up to his feet. His weary legs ached from the trawling he had completed from the previous week. The cave he was in was a small but deep hollowed out safe point. Lit by two wall torches and furnished with a bear Pelt upon the ground and a cooking pot at its centre. The entrance to the cave was narrow and surrounded by heavy boulders, Varlgon hoped that the rocks would be enough to halt any attempts of a Dragon attack, and so far it had proved to be useful in keeping the Nord hidden, but he did not know of its strength. At the entrance of the cave lay a steep drop, a looming mist had always blanketed the entrance too, this meant visibility was poor, however it also meant the cave was well hidden.

Varlgon grabbed a piece of roasted skeever tale from the cook pot and started to gnaw upon it, it may have been foul but the Nord found he had to eat, so he kept on chewing. As he finished his meal he cupped some water up from a puddle with his small wooden bowl, before then slurping the dirty puddle water down his throat, this left a gritty earthy taste in his mouth. A disgusting task this was to survive, but their were no tankards of mead in this cave only puddles of water, so he had no choice. Varlgon put his bowl down onto pelt, before walking over towards his sword that was leant against the wall. The Nord picked the mighty Claymore up and started to swing it around before seamlessly slipping it into his sheaf upon his back. Varlgon was in need of more food supplies, for only 3 rotten skeevers now remained for him to eat, so he would have to head outside to scavenge of anything he could find.