Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-28718853-20200409224613/@comment-30014014-20200418021525

"By His hand, I would be lying if I was to omit how surreal this is to my eyes" The man continues his trailing, taking a slight detour away from the scurrying squirrel, but overall fixated on the deer and its immaculate appendages of metal over its existence barked in wood.

Somewhat surreal, even to a seasoned traveler such as him, he claims the hilt of his mace, not quite drawing it out, but waiting for a reason. All the while he observes those things, devoid of human-like substance.

If he was dragged in confrontation, they likely would not feel any combat pain, so hitting them in the most fragile spots would be a must.

They scarcely reacted to him, therefore they must not operate under the same scruntiny as living sentinels. Or perhaps they deemed him insignificant to whatever effort they had, likely searching for the wurm they downed. He was intended on keeping this behavior  if it is indeed a thing.

He continues making his way, further from the strange constructs and closer to the direction he though the wurm had crash-landed...