You move quickly up the rope, and jump off onto the shore just as it snaps and most of the rope's length goes falling into the creek.  You just make it to the edge and grab onto the branch above you to stop from following the rope and falling over backwards.  Damn!  That was close.  Now you'll need a new rope. 

"Arrith! Are you alright?" Ciana asks, worried the way girls tend to be. 

"I'm fine," you answer, "but I almost missed the edge.  That could have hurt if I didn't jump when I did!"

"I'm just glad you're alright."

"Well, looks like our fun's over," Hailyn says, clearly just as disappointed as you are.  "Come on then, we better get going."

You leave, disappointed.  But for some reason, you just can't help wondering why the rope snapped now.  Shrugging it off as just use-related, you begin the walk back to town.

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A basic, typical fantasy style story with all the classic elements - elves in the forest, dwarves underground, old wizards in towers and the like. It's largely just to experiment with the form more than anything, although the idea formed ages ago before I got depressed.

The idea is that about a dozen characters meet each other along the way on a perilous journey north into the heart of evil/darkness/symbolic force thereof.

Arrith and co head north-west to the capital, Pasaveer, a day or two out from their home town of Terris. Kemvar accompanies them. They are looking for information about a cursed armour, shield and weapon that one of the goblin leaders mutters something about. On your trail is the men with wolf tattoos, and behind them is the rouge Hailyn has been waiting like a lover for.

updated Jul 8 by UltimaDan