01-25-2015, 01:46 PM
From the tops of the cliffs, and with great bow slung on, the Chosen began his hunt. The trolls were not too hard to follow fortunately, they did not seem to think they were at any risk. Judging by the casual way they were walking and talking at least. The Chosen himself moved as carefully as he could, creeping along the cliffs, at times even crawling along slowly through the snow when there were not shadows or cliffs to press himself against. Stealth was truly not his specialty, but he did know about it, Lordran had given him quite the variance in skills. Still, it was enough to tail the trolls, staying at a good distance and following their voices over the cliffs and canyons. Already following them was starting to pay off though, it seemed like the labyrinth of cliffs was starting to reach its end, getting more straight forward, simpler. The rifts were growing wider, and when he looked ahead, he thought he just might be able to see its end, and wouldn't you know it, he was right.
Other voices started to fill the air, gruff and guttural, more trolls...and a lot of them from the sounds of it. Still, the Chosen kept going, was this a small encampment, an actual village? He still needed to see more before he could determine, and so he kept sidling forward. As he had followed the trolls, the cliffs he had been traversing got higher, sloping upwards more and more, so he was rather high off the ground, well higher than the first set. As such, he got an excellent view when he moved to the edge, to examine this next area. It was a large circular valley, closer to ovular. The walls of the cliff surrounded it, sloping around to close on the other side, although it looked like there might be paths one could climb on the other side. It was a good few dozen meters down, and rather rocky, so it was hard to tell. Naturally there was an entrance into that maze of canyons and cliffs that the two trolls the Chosen had been following emerged from as well. The camp, and it was a camp, consisted of several tents set up in a circular formation, around a large, crackling fire. There were four posts set up around that fire too, close enough that whoever was attached wouldn't freeze to death. On each post was one figure, they were short and stocky, having an impressive bulk to them. They looked human, well more human than the trolls at least, just oddly short.
Prisoners, whatever encampment the Chosen had stumbled across it had prisoners. It was quite possible that every group in this place was hostile, but there was still a chance that someone might be willing to talk and explain a few things to the Chosen. The question now was if he could actually even figure out a way to rescue these four strange figures. So, still laying down upon the cliff, with just his helmeted, snow covered head peeking out, he did a head count. It was hard to say for sure, there was a possibility that a few were sleeping in the tents after all, but on a first count he got a good eleven trolls, throw in say, four that might be sleeping and call it fifteen. It could be more, could be less, either way, that was a...sticky situation. Just seven, in a location where numbers were harder to take advantage of had done a number on him. His chest still ached from the spears he had taken. Was this to much for him? He wasn't sure yet, so he sidled back, resting there in the snow, to think, and plan.
Other voices started to fill the air, gruff and guttural, more trolls...and a lot of them from the sounds of it. Still, the Chosen kept going, was this a small encampment, an actual village? He still needed to see more before he could determine, and so he kept sidling forward. As he had followed the trolls, the cliffs he had been traversing got higher, sloping upwards more and more, so he was rather high off the ground, well higher than the first set. As such, he got an excellent view when he moved to the edge, to examine this next area. It was a large circular valley, closer to ovular. The walls of the cliff surrounded it, sloping around to close on the other side, although it looked like there might be paths one could climb on the other side. It was a good few dozen meters down, and rather rocky, so it was hard to tell. Naturally there was an entrance into that maze of canyons and cliffs that the two trolls the Chosen had been following emerged from as well. The camp, and it was a camp, consisted of several tents set up in a circular formation, around a large, crackling fire. There were four posts set up around that fire too, close enough that whoever was attached wouldn't freeze to death. On each post was one figure, they were short and stocky, having an impressive bulk to them. They looked human, well more human than the trolls at least, just oddly short.
Prisoners, whatever encampment the Chosen had stumbled across it had prisoners. It was quite possible that every group in this place was hostile, but there was still a chance that someone might be willing to talk and explain a few things to the Chosen. The question now was if he could actually even figure out a way to rescue these four strange figures. So, still laying down upon the cliff, with just his helmeted, snow covered head peeking out, he did a head count. It was hard to say for sure, there was a possibility that a few were sleeping in the tents after all, but on a first count he got a good eleven trolls, throw in say, four that might be sleeping and call it fifteen. It could be more, could be less, either way, that was a...sticky situation. Just seven, in a location where numbers were harder to take advantage of had done a number on him. His chest still ached from the spears he had taken. Was this to much for him? He wasn't sure yet, so he sidled back, resting there in the snow, to think, and plan.