[b][i]Clop clop clop[/i][/b]

Denrig's pony clopped lazily along the cobbled path. Seemingly oblivious to its rather ominous surroundings. Or maybe as a Dwarven mining pony it was just more accustomed to the enveloping darkness offered by forest than the light of the open sky. The way the tree branches seemed to intertwine together until they formed a single, roof like structure almost reminded Denrig of home. But the roof of his hold was made out of stone. Not wood. And while the dwarves did have lumber parties to harvest wood from the trees in the mountain ranges. It was nothing like this. Just just being surrounded on all sides. They made more noise than stone too. Stone was quiet and hard. The only noise stone made was when it echoed other noises. But trees groaned. They rustled and even creaked sometimes. It was unnerving and Denrig didn't like it. 
This enclosed forest was just as foreign to his mind as a wide open meadow. Luckily he wasn't claustrophobic, something that would be quite impossible for a dwarf to be. But still this wasn't like the tunnels and enclosed hallways of a stronghold. This was different. More sinister. The the roots of the trees writhed and swarmed over the the ground in such a way that it made moving any faster than the leisurely clop he was currently moving impossible. He hated trees and he hated forests. How the other races tolerated these things, much less lived near them or gods forbid in them. He would never know.

The hardest part about living on the surface was getting used to the sky. It was just so.... so open and just there. There was nothing at all above his head and for those first few days especially he white-knuckle gripped his reins as if he would fall upwards into that nothingness. But soon fear turned into annoyance because open sky also meant unpredictable weather. One thing that Denrig realized he took for granted in the mountains was that weather 'inside' a mountain was always the same. Always the same temperature and rain was and storms were obviously not concerns in the slightest. Even cycles of day and night were more represented by the hours that there were less torches and fires lit than when there were more. But out here it took some hard learning to get accustomed to the changing weather. And he got soaked to the bone twice before he learned what darkened skies and grey clouds meant. 

He pulled out the old parchment map that was given to him before he embarked on his journey. It was probably older than his father, maybe even as old as his grandfather but it represented the only records of non Dwarven lands that his stronghold had. Two hundred years of isolation left both sides with woefully inadequate understandings of the other sides landscapes. While the Dwarven hold's didn't change significantly in location in that time he was told that it might not be the same in human lands. Two hundred years was along time for humans and entire countries could rise and fall over such a period. So he was pretty much screwed and now this dated map that was supposed to lead him to a once thriving village that his hold had extensive trade relations with once upon a time, was now seemingly buried under foliage and tree roots. If it wasn't for the fact that there clearly was a road under all of this he would have thought he was moving in the wrong direction entirely this whole time. 

He swore at length in his native tongue. A string of harsh flinty words that were spat out into the air from bearded lips. He kept grumbling until he heard voices up ahead. Voices that definitely were not Dwarven. He assumed they were human even though he had never met one or heard one speak. But it was the most likely assumption to make. His back straightened and he perked up. Maybe there still was a village in this depressing forest after all! It was a good place to start. 

[color=Gold]“Come on girl.”[/color]

Spurring his pony off in the direction of the voices. The beast was short and muscled from years of labour in dwarven mines. As much of a 'dwarf amongst horses' as Denrig was a dwarf amongst humans. Luckily it was also docile and was easily spurred to it's riders bidding. Only neighing once before trotting off in a new direction.