Kerribben's companions had already returned to the jungle first, but he was not prepared to go alone, a small caravan would accompany them to the White Tower.

The small caravan, of less than twenty men, of course welcomed a ranger and a mage to join them, and they were in the dye business, with only four accompanying mercenaries, but eleven two-wheeled caravans, four of which belonged to the same man, and he was the leader of the little caravan, called Furt - a vulgar name, with two apprentices and a servant, like brown hair covered in dust, and covered with fat that would make one think that he was not in the dye business but in the grease business - He looks like a good signboard in his own right.

Master Alva, who had turned one of his apprentices into a bird to give him a taste of magic, told his mentor that he was most impressed by the fact that the place where he lived looked like a peculiar human face—the four-tiered walled Cape Fortress was at the tip of the nose, the shallows were the middle of the people, the seawall was the lips, the mountains on both sides were the green cheeks, and a wide road as straight and gentle as the bridge of the nose began at the north gate of the fortress and finally sank into the rolling low hills. It had cracked into countless messy narrow paths at the boundary between the hills and the seawalls, from where the caravans of the Cape Dike had spread to every part of the continent.

They walked along one of the narrow roads for a whole day, and while the light was still bright, three or four caravans guided or followed them, but soon they either turned left or right, and in any case went on other roads.

"It's strange," Furt muttered to himself, suspiciously, "where have they gone?"

"There's more than one way to the White Tower," Muttered Furth's apprentice, "why do they have to huddle with a chubby nasty ghost." He almost took his tongue in his mouth, but was heard by Foot, and in exchange for a whip that was neither light nor heavy, he shrugged his shoulders indifferently, and ran to the back of the carriage, and the whip that did not even break his clothes was a caress to him, who was accustomed to being beaten.

Furt had no intention of pursuing it, he was a forgiving man, but this road was indeed the closest and smoothest to the White Tower, and merchants were not adventurers, and they would never choose a new path when there was an old way to go. He set his eyes on the ranger sitting on the roof of the caravan, hoping to get some reliable information from the latter's words and actions.

A returning raven brought a signal of a storm to Kerryben, it came from the sea, but it would soon storm here, Kerriben gave the bird a piece of venison jerky in return, and the big bird with two awesome eyebrows flapped its wings, and he leaned down to find Furth's apprentice: "Go and talk to your master," said the ranger, "we need to set up our tent at once, the storm is coming." ”

No one doubted Kerribben's words, and the caravan stopped, and they chose the northern slope of a hill taller and wider than its kind as a camping camp to withstand the coming storm, the wagons were dragged up the gentle slopes, the horses were untied and gathered together, and Furt had a sturdy cowhide tent, and the other merchants had sheepskins or tarpaulins, which were tied to the two tents to provide some shelter from the wind and rain.

The wind was getting stronger and stronger, and they could scarcely even raise a bonfire, and the mercenaries went to survey a forest of metasequoia not far from them, lest a great beast disturb the horses and attack the men, and they returned before the darkness fell completely, each carrying many fat rabbits on his back.

"There are no wolves, and no bears," said the mercenary leader, "only rabbits, so many that they can jump directly into your pocket." His words sparked the interest of the others, except for the impaired Furt, the Mage, and the Ranger, who all went to the woods and returned equally loaded.

Since there is fresh rabbit meat, then the unpalatable dry food can of course be put on the shelf, and they eagerly cut and skin the rabbits, and when the fat meat beats on the flames, their skins are being stretched on the branches of the trees to dry, and there is no time and utensils for tanning the furs on the road, and after the furs have been roughly dried, the fat and dirt scraped off can be stacked up and taken away like wooden boards, and when they are in a place where they can be saved, they will try to soak them to restore them to their original state for processing. Now is the season for rabbits to moult, and their fur is so bald that they can't sell it for a good price, but they can at least keep it for themselves.

Most of the mercenaries looked down on the gray fur, and the strange smell of rabbit meat was not so satisfactory, a young mercenary complained that there were no pheasants and deer while stabbing the rabbit carcass with his saber, and they brought back far more than they needed, they did not want to use the fur, nor did they want to make jerky, and the merchants did not dare or disdain to ask them for it, and most of the prey was thrown into the partridge grass that was higher than the human knee, and this hard, slender grass covered most of the hilly area, which is why this place was called the Partridge Hill。

The mercenary, who had been poking the rabbit in the head and was excited to throw it higher, suddenly stood up and grabbed the crossbow beside him.

"What's wrong?"

"Something dragged the rabbit away. The young mercenary replied, "It could be a fox." ”

"The fox is no obstacle to you," muttered the elder of the mercenaries, who dipped his rabbit meat in the soup to make it softer, "and you don't want to eat fox meat, and in the spring it moults, and its fur is tattered and rotten—it is not good that your blood is poisonous, young man." ”

The young mercenary was indifferent, the old man was blind in one eye, his face was covered with deep ravines carved out of the wind and frost, he walked slowly and his demeanor was sluggish compared to the energetic young man, and his equipment was not new enough, he was not admired and trusted by the young man, and the young man, who was no longer interested in the rabbit's head, shot his square-headed arrow when the partridge grass swung again out of the direction of the wind - a shrill scream was heard, almost exactly like a human, and the mercenary ran over, "It's a rabbit again!" He shouted in discontent, and his companions laughed at him, and instead of bringing the rabbit back, he drew his dagger and cut the rabbit that was still alive on the spot, the screams of the rabbit and the growing smell of blood could not be completely concealed by the wind that could overturn a weak human.

Kerry was leaning back on his bag, reading a travelogue written on papyrus with the soft white light of fluorite embedded in the collar pin, and the smell and voice of Cremar made him frown slightly: "You didn't eat." He said he knew that half of his family was both persistent and professional in tasting food.

"I don't want to eat it. The black-haired mage said dryly, and he sat down in front of Kerryben, cross-legged, leaning forward like a child and pressing his elbows to his knees.

The Ranger sat up and took out a few pieces of emerald green cakes from his leather bag, and a small silk mesh bag: "Where's your ball?"

Cremar took the ball of water from his belt bag and placed it in the silver pot provided by the merchant, the water boiled almost before he could blink an eye, and the elf threw the wire mesh into the silver pot, and after a few breaths, the fragrance of citrus and roses filled the tent with white steam.

And with a wonderful sense of familiarity.

Dewy rose with creamy citrus.

"I never thought that grinding them and burning them in tobacco was the best way to enjoy them. Kerry said bluntly, winking at Cremar. Cremar snickered, when he lived in the rime hut, as long as he could see Mage Alva, he always had a filled hookah next to him, the smoke was probably second only to magic, he also used to show off his collection to the young mage, tea, dried flowers and fruits, and the elf Kerry always invited him to play chess, and then bet on the winter honey he carried with him to win his various collections, it is said that the mage can only win one game in ten games, it is clear that these two precious raw materials are the elves' latest trophies.

He took out the water purification ball from the silver kettle, the water stains on the Mithril ball dried in an instant, he stroked the ball, feeling the temperature on it and the direction of the magic text: "This is Alva's work. He returned it to Cremar and poured two drops of winter honey into their silver cups, snow-white honey, but Cremar could not smell the honey, and the scent wafting in the air was still only citrus and rose, but in an instant the two smells became more vivid and intense, and vibrant.

Cremar took a tentative sip, the hot tea bringing a sweet and refreshing taste.

The cold and clear breath was so rich and long-lasting, it stayed in his mouth, and then passed through his throat and stomach, and permeated his lungs, his spirit was concentrated like never before, the young caster closed his eyes, but he could see how the clouds in the distance were rolling forward, and he could hear how the nematodes trembled and molted in the dirt dozens of feet deep, and the skin on the palm accurately reproduced the lines on the Mithril ball. The shape of the mark and the gem, he pursued his memory, and everything in his memory was clearer than ever, like a rock washed away by a rainstorm.

The Otherworldly Soul grimaced, and he knew why Mage Alva had repeatedly insisted on his gamble with Kerryben - after so many painful defeats.

They shared a few small cakes made of mugwort glutinous rice, which were a little bitter, but when paired with winter honey citrus rose tea, it could only be said to be a match made in heaven. Its raw material comes from a versatile vine that grows in the silver-crowned forest, bears red fruits, the yield is small, but very sweet, the dark black skin is tough and smooth, the inner core is milky white after being dried and ground into powder after being extracted, and it will become emerald green when steamed, and the energy is abundant, and the palm-sized piece can sustain an adult human male for a day, and is a snack and dry food commonly used by elves.

"The rainstorm is coming. Cremar said suddenly.

"Yes," said the ranger, as the birds swept back into the woods, the insects folded their wings and hid under the blades of grass, and the she-weasel stood calling to her young...... The air had become stagnant, heavy clouds had obscured the moonlight and starlight, the humans at the campfire had dispersed, and the rabbit skins stretched on the branched branches had been hastily scraped and stacked together, hiding with the merchants in the cramped space created by sheepskins and tarpaulins. Only the rabbit was still breathing and gnashing its teeth in the grass, the rabbit's breath was angry, and the gnashing of its teeth was a sign that it was enduring pain, perhaps frightened by the cruelty of the humans, and the ranger stepped out of the tent and considered if there was a way to urge them to get back to the cave as soon as possible.

But soon, the torrential rain poured down.

The author has something to say: I saw a very unpleasant book review this morning, so I specially want to explain that this book adheres to certain rules and settings, and is a pure Western fantasy adventure novel, but it has never used D&D as a signboard and propaganda means, nor has it been thought of rigidly rigidly entrenched a template or treasure book, if any reader unfortunately strays in, please leave as soon as possible.

As for my writing style, each author's style is different, a certain adult, you have to say how I want to use flowery rhetoric, I can only say that every adjective I have is not untargeted, this is a strange world, there is no description, how do you let the reader understand the people, scenery, social concepts and others? Even so, after each chapter is completed, I will read it again and again to make sure that there is no useless redundancy in it, even if it is not a VIP chapter, of course, I am more careful in the VIP chapter, and sometimes when setting up a foreshadowing that seems unrelated to the chapter but is indispensable, I will deliberately shorten the chapter to less than 1,000 words, so as not to waste the starting point coin - some people's unwarranted accusations are really chilling.

If there are readers who want to "point" in the future, don't worry, please provide evidence, for example, where you think the description is superfluous, you can copy it in the book review, and I will tell you why this description is indispensable.

Including what another adult said before, the writing is confusing and so on, and it is also pointed out, at least I can defend it - confusion generally refers to inconsistencies, unclear ideas or unclear expressions, where do these two points correspond?

It wasn't that no reader pointed out that my chapters had bugs and typos, and I corrected them in time and rewarded them in time, because I knew it was kind and helpful to me, and to my text, and I would only be grateful, not sad and sad as I am now.

These two reviews have been deleted, but I would like to thank the reader who helped me refute them. (I actually forgot to delete the book review, and the reply below will disappear with it...... That, I'm sorry. ）

Thank you to all the adults who have supported me and encouraged me, without you, Nine Fish would never have been able to get to where I am today! Thank you again and again! I will add another chapter for this today.

In addition, perhaps a lot of redundancy - in the official cooperation website of Dungeons & Dragons oL, there is a job description, and the word "Paladin" is clearly written on it.

As for the other classes, such as Rogue, Druid, Warlock, Mage, etc., I chose the most familiar term instead of Ranger or Wanderer.