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The Oracle's Eye Ch 3Serok Ttunda
The Oracles Eye
Serok moved silently along the path, listening and watching carefully. Hed had encounters with bandits before, and he knew that he would probably hear them before he saw them, especially if they didnt expect to be pursued. And judging by the damage they had done to the town, they had been making certain they would not be.
His fingers caressed the butt of his pistol. He was angry, but it was not the fiery rage that had met him when he had entered the town. This was different, a cold, implacable anger that could not burn itself out.
The path was tortuous and slippery, often narrow, and overgrown with grasses and ferns. The plants were trodden down and crushed, the mark of people confident that they werent being followed.
The trail was descending now, and Serok moved carefully. The ravine lining this part of the trail was plenty deep enough to
The Oracle's Eye chapter 2Serok Ttunda
The Oracles Eye
The jungle swayed in the deep evening, the breeze rustling the lush vegetation that lined the dust of the road. In the half light, the town seemed an unreal mass of black, tempered here and there with little points of light, the glow of fires shining through windows and reflecting on the leaves nearest the houses.
The town of San Barranco Diablo was a small one, nestled deep in the western forests. It was a remote spot, where geologic upheaval had cracked and folded the earth into strange configurations of black rock, all draped in the ever present green of the primeval rainforest.
As darkness closed over the jungle, several of the flickering lights guttered and dimmed.
The town had not posted sentries or guardsmen. There was no need: it had been at least a decade since the last attack. San Barranco Diablo was too well h
The Oracles Eye Chapter 1Serok Ttunda
The Oracles Eye
The man watched.
He sat in the corner of the bar, eyes flicking from one table to another, lingering on nothing, taking in everything. See the crowd of mercenaries muttering into their beers, dressed in the ragged armor of many nations, all of it stolen off of dead enemies. See the women, some of them beautiful, some of them less so, moving through the bar, plying their trade and describing, with lewd words and gestures, their wares. See the gamblers, shuffling cards or throwing dice.
His eyes swept the bar itself, the grubby bartender, the men who leaned against the counter with their ales. A familiar scene, one that played out in many such establishments. Nothing new-
But wait. What is this?
The man leaned forwards imperceptibly, his eclectic finery rustling a little, eyes narrowing a fraction. That table back in the opposite corner. The
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