Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-17114085-20150428121208/@comment-24736819-20150508132657

The Prowlers then decided it was enough. The next days would prove themselves unfruitful the still remaining bandits as they were not going to meet anyone else on the roads of Farrun, the guards of the Dark Tower were always several steps ahead and behind the bandits when they ventured themselves in Farrun's lands.

No more farms would be found supplied or inhabited, no more crops would be found to harvest, nothing. Soon enough the bandits would realize that staying in Farrun would starve them to death. As the Prowlers put their plan into action, they also remained alert for any opening they had to capture and feast on a bandit...but only one at a time.

Those lands would be their demise and the Prowlers were Death itself collecting its rightful souls.

"Hah! My kind of funeral!", Tormund let out, "It's hard to find others in those lands that think like us, King Elyas. Nothing says 'good bye' to our loved ones like a celebration of what they accomplished in life."