It’s definitely time for a new adventure! So without further ado, let’s dive in.
On the dark mahogany desk sits a globe of the world so detailed that it shows roads and landscapes, place names and times of day. In deep colors of green and brown, it displays crops and in glistening whites or muddied grays, the grip of winter or the swirling path of a storm.
You sit in the padded leather desk chair with your legs crossed and elbows on your knees, just watching the shifting temperament of the globe. At any moment a spot might light up with brief sparks, indicating an attack and, as a watcher, it is your duty to go help the locals deal with the dragon, ogre, troll or whatever else might be terrorizing them.
“Slow night?” asks a young voice from the office door.
You glare over the globe at Mark, the newest member of your ranks.
“Don’t ever say those words in this room,” you admonish.
“Why?” Mark sets a plate of eggs and hash browns on the desk beside the globe for you.
Before you can respond, sparks fly from the northern most spot on the globe. Then a dull glow suffuses the white, snow held land mass.
Before those initial sparks die, more flare from the islands in the southwestern sea and immediately behind those, more sparks from the mountains running the coast of the eastern continent.
All three locations glow with a dull, pulsing red light.
You glare at Mark again. “That’s why.”
He smiles sheepishly. “Oops. I’ll grab another hunter.”
“Yeah,” you agree.
While you’re waiting for him to return, you shovel down the eggs and hash browns. It might be your last warm meal for a while, so you savor the delicious mix of yolk and potato.
By the time Mark returns, your plate’s empty and you’ve shouldered your gear. He finds you staring intently at the globe with its three glowing spots.
“Lovely,” says the hunter Mark retrieved. The word drips with resignation as he runs a hand over his bald head.
“North’s going to be super cold,” Mark comments.
“Uhha,” you say, withholding a sarcastic reply.
“Island’s might be nice except for that storm.” He points to a swirling gray mass that’ll hit the islands within the next day.
“Yup,” you say.
“Then again, those mountains are rough terrain.”
“That’s true,” you agree, again the sarcasm hides behind your bland response.
“You’ve got first pick,” says the third hunter before Mark continues to state the obvious.
Do you pick the snow laden North, the storm expecting islands, or the rough mountains?
Vote in the comments which direction you’d like to explore. We’ll be back next Thursday with whichever option gets the most votes.
Thanks for joining the new adventure.
Until next time, blessings,