Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-25808351-20170301125240/@comment-28358106-20170302194403

The old man looks at the silver as if it were a gift from the gods, hitches his trousers up, and heads straight for the tavern.

The rain lets up and the sun peeks out along the final stretch of road, the birdsong picking up as the rain stops. The road winds gently into some woods as they travel, the smell of deep loam and evergreen and mountain flower heavy in the moist air.

Emily takes a deep breath. "Mmmm...it smells so good here. And your cigar smells good, too!  Like vanilla!  And...um..."

She sniffs a couple of times. "Um, cake? That's weird." She keeps sniffing.

It becomes apparent that they are closing in on Dorian's Bridge. The smell of sweet baked goods is all around them, and they turn the bend to the wooden gateway to the village.

Te recent rain hasn't stopped anyone. People bustle about on little village paths, made traversable by the flat stones that line them to keep them from the soft soil. There is a air of happiness as a woman sets baked goods out to cool under an awning, and people stand about, chattering rather than working. Sunlight filters through the gray clouds and through the treetops. 

"Well, this place is nice," Emily says, fluttering to a stop. "It's pretty here." Her stomach grumbles. "And that pie smells so good..."