![]() The old man lunges for the elf and draws his blade up from its sheath, putting the hilt end of its edge near-Īkiharu slides the Summer sword back where it came from. A Drow scout! Using the accommodations as a convenient forward post, no doubt! A warrior with a gray goatee announces the rest of his thought in a deep, gravely voice: "Looks like I was on the right trail after all!" ![]() Upon pushing open the door, he finds view inside a lot less welcoming. They're always a welcome sight on long trips, especially for these old bones. He can't help but admire the clerics that make the long routine journeys to keep these places up. Akiharu doesn't travel for a living, but he has done enough to know the symbol of the Dweller on the Horizon when he sees it.
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