The burning sensation of the sun on the East-West coastline imprinted on the surface of the earth as the sound of wheels turning furiously reverberated like a hum in the air. It was quickly erased by the loud bestial snarls and screams from a horde of walking worms that chased after four carriages like a flock of mad birds.
Leading the front was a merchant named Malen Ritcoff. A popularly well-known man for his extravagant lifestyle and choice of clothing. He was someone who could have been easily disliked if not for his endeavors in checking poverty as much as he could and owning several orphanages.
Malen held onto the rein and pushed forward like a torpedo, leaving a trail of dust behind him.
He was focused on his task of escaping, or at least that's what handmade it seemed.
'Those two must have taken care of those pesky Mercenaries by now' He thought to himself as he whipped the rein with his arms, causing the horses to ride faster.
