Those of you still standing in the meadow can practically taste the tension in the air. The sky itself seems to hang heavily on your shoulders. If things progress any further then it doesn't seem as though our adventurers will partake in much of an adventure. The wood of the tavern begins to creak under the weight of the air and the sky visibly darkens despite the lack of any kind of inclimate weather. You can hear what sounds like branches snapping in the distance. Anyone would be hard pressed to think of a locale they'd rather not be and, for our fledgling group, that frame of mind was a harsh reality.
What ever had been destructively making it's way through the forest was becoming louder, surely staying put was a fools errand. OR maybe we've a group of risk takers?
