<div class="floatright">(http://s3.amazonaws.com/cdn.roosterteeth.com/uploads/images/54063e01-6933-4e38-b195-d0fc28595a06/md/2181220-1448930942333-Warrior_Karsten_Face.jpg)</div><br/>Only minutes after he’d trudged away far enough he wasn’t able to see the two destroyers of patience and crumblers of sanity, he had to scold his still turgid member into some semblance of rest since it insisted on staying at attention despite the overwhelming odds against any inspection actually taking place. The images of the two female wreckers of peace and quiet as they dripped water, pale skin gleaming in the morning light, stuck to his mind like a hungry dwarf to a newly roasted boar, and leaving about as much space for any other thoughts to get in on a corner.<br/><br/>More than once he almost turned around, to see if he could catch a glimpse through the foliage, and he was more than a bit proud that he didn’t take advantage of the opportunity like he was sure any other man would have done. He already had two irate females, that of course blamed him for them jumping into a damn pool of eels, because why shouldn’t they honestly he was dumb enough to suggest they wash off after all, and he really didn’t need them even further agitated. He had a feeling what he had to say to them would do that all on its own anyway.<br/><br/>Finally hearing the two of them approach, or a pair surly bears based on the noise, and the sudden feeling of being eyed for dinner that bloomed between his shoulder blades, Cerias found it safest to turn around. Though he had to fight the urge to ready sword and shield as he did so. The two grim, sullen, women looked at him like they suspected he was about to force them to crawl through the mud and put them on display on the town square. For about the thousandth time that morning he considered if it really was worth this just to make the time go, and watch two obviously clueless of the world females try and kill rats. As amusing as he was sure it would prove, the hassle started to overcome the desire.<br/><br/>Though he had to admit they looked far better washed off, and the clothes clung to every lush curve in a way that left dangerously little left for imagination. Not that he hadn’t seen them in all their naked glory earlier, but this tempted him with ideas of wanting to see more. He eyed them up and down and then looked from one to the other with a raised eyebrow and crocked frown.<br/><br/>‘I was going to ask you a few questions, but you two look about as happy as two half drowned cats someone stole the last mouse from before stepping on their tails. So instead I’m going to let you two stew in that while I enjoy the sunshine and relative quiet. Since I assume you two are as prepared as you are going to get on your own we’ll just head right over to the Muckmines and see if maybe you can strangle some rats to death with that self-pity of yours.’<br/><br/>Was what he thought. But looking at them he decided it might not be the time to voice those opinions. A seasoned tank learned quickly what pulls you could safely make. Instead he just shrugged his shoulders and grunted.<br/><br/>“Let’s go then.”<br/><br/><hr/><hr/><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 14pt;">As you can imagine the combination of two cranky noble ladies, chewed up by consequence and spat out drenched in reality, and a world weary cynical asshole coated in armor made of pigheaded disdain, didn’t make for the most talkative of travelling companions. Luckily it wasn’t too far to the Muckmines where the great challenge of rat murdering and tail gathering awaited them. It wasn’t even like they had anything to be that cranky over really. The sun was hot enough that clothes would dry off decently quick, and if they were hungry then there would soon be plenty of succulent rat meat for everyone now wouldn’t there? But despite these riches being offered up very little was said during the hour or so the trip over to the mines lasted. Now if you ask me that’s of course a horribly wasted opportunity for some marvelous exposition and backstory, but then it’s not my story is it? If it had been we would have gotten to the good parts already, just like I know you impatient perverts are waiting for. Yeah I know my own kind when I see them. Sure you don’t want any of the stew? The eyes are only a few days old you know. Not? Oh okay, let’s get on with the story then. <br/><br/>Now, the Murkmines, as I’m sure you as well read younglings know, is an old stone quarry fallen into ruin after it was discovered it had once been an old worship site of Mor’vain, the goddess of unnecessary bloodshed. Some of the workers managed to stumble over a century’s old altar and, in the same way as princes and princesses always manage to get kidnapped by dragons, succeeded in falling into worship of her. Not that it’s all that difficult mind you. It would have been enough if one accidentally nicked his friend while shaving him too close to the holy ground. Mor’vain is not very particular when it comes to why, or how, the blood was spilled. Only that it was unnecessary.<br/><br/>The blood shedding, all of it exceedingly unnecessary, spread throughout the workforce and they had to call in a happy little group of adventurers to clean it all out. After that it was abandoned and left to the wilds. But of course all that death brought other visitors. Necromancers, scavengers, rats and worst of all, newly minted adventurers! There is nothing quite so gleeful about murdering anything for a few coppers as a dumbass who just got his new sword, or learnt to throw a fireball. Still, something about the magic of the place draws in new rats, new scavengers and other darker threats, and thus new adventurers. Such is the way of things.<br/><br/>Luckily for Mr Asshat and the Sisters of Sullen Snit, yes I know that is a convent for Cur’anky the goblin god of Surly Fuming; I was a member once, lovely luncheons, though nothing like the Eastrise stew. No, still not hungry? Very well, where was I? Oh right, our little party had managed not to get lost on the way there and was finally within smell of the mines themselves.</span><br/><br/><hr/><hr/><br/><div class="floatright">(http://s3.amazonaws.com/cdn.roosterteeth.com/uploads/images/54063e01-6933-4e38-b195-d0fc28595a06/md/2181220-1448930942333-Warrior_Karsten_Face.jpg)</div><br/>After a walk that had been at most an hour, but felt like a week walking through the halls of the dead city of Moroso what with the two dark clouds of petulant gloom that hovered in his wake, the trail finally ended at the masterfully placed sign of ‘Murkmines’. Cerias had purposefully kept just a few steps ahead of them to make it more difficult for them to ask any dumb questions, and hoping the walk and sun might air them out a bit. Even though he didn’t wear his full plate, the tightly sitting leathers was more than enough protection in this area, it was still hot enough in the sun that he had to unbutton the jacket and vest. The leather encased his thighs and rear as only a pair of personally tailored pants could do, following his every step like a jealous lover. But no matter how well-crafted they were still a bit too warm in the bright sun and he looked forwards to some shade to wait in. Despite that he had to admit it was good to be out moving around again after days stuck in the village.<br/><br/>The sparse forest, liberally sprinkled with meadows and brooks, gave way to a wide stretch of stony hills and rocky plains that further on led to ‘the Ash Wastes’ and then onwards to the range of ‘Poortail Mountains’ looming like a promise of double taxation on the east horizon. The small trail they had followed snaked in between the gentle slopes of the hills and also took off to the right where it went down a languid incline that led into the mines themselves. A vague odor of peat, mire mud, and old carcass hung like an afterthought in the air.<br/><br/>Taking a look down the slope Cerias could already see a few large, furred, shapes squabbling and snarling over a long dead deer lying face down in the sunburned grass. Turning around he looked the girls over, thought about offering some words of advice, decided against it since he wanted to know what they actually did when fighting, and simply jerked his head towards the small group of rats instead, a half smirk on his lips and just the trace of a gloating gleam in his grey eyes.<br/><br/>“We have a little group of rats over there. Show me what you got ladies.”