Cruran walked across the fields at a slow pace. He was getting tired, and his muscles had begun to ache. The past days exertions were at last catching up with him. The scrapes along his arm and shoulder were stinging, though, thankfully, they did so without edge. The Maiden's Tongue had seen to that. Still, the barbarian was growing more weary with each step. The sun was drawing close to the horizon in the distance, and the clouds that lightly splayed across the sky were edged in a gold. Cruran looked forward to the coming night. It would serve as the first real rest he would receive since he arrived at the lands around the village. He still had a distance to travel before he was close to the village again. His ventures had taken him unexpectedly far from it.<br/><br/><br/>***<br/><br/><br/>Cruran heard it in the distance, causing him to stop dead in his tracks. It was shouting, and in great volume. The barbarian furrowed his brow and his lips parted slightly as he listened. Among the screams and shouts were the echoing thuds of metal on wood, of sword on shield and with it was the unmistakable clashing of iron. It took a moment for the Barbarian's weary mind to grasp what it was that might have been making the sound. It was a brief moment.<br/><br/>Cruran's heart leapt back to life, pounding adrenaline back through his veins. In the blink of an eye, his weary muscles ceased their complaint, and the stinging in his arm was gone. Cruran broke into a full sprint toward the village. These Bandits were attacking, and the sound was great enough to merit a full assault. From what the barbarian had seen of the village, it would be simple prey for the armed band that Cruran had guessed it being camped somewhere near. More blood was needed this day, and Cruran was sure to satisfy.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>