(closed, completed) ---> plot post.
There was a peak on the horizon--amongst the thick woodlands, where far ahead, the plains slowly became clearer with each of Grandores giant steps, where the owls cried and ...Wait, were those roosters calling? Well, they werent exactly out of place for the hour; it was five in the morning and the sun still hadnt made an appearance. But it was quite obvious it would, very soon. The color told it all, after all; the dark orange shading above the horizons, defining clouds that would have otherwise been camouflaged by the midnight blue.
And then more light. Each second came with such light that Grandore had to shield his eyes by five-thirty.
Grandore walked on, though, squinting his eyes all the while. It was then when he realized that he, along with the Caravan and its travelers as a whole, was about to be faced with an obstacle (their first of many, unfortunately). Ahead revealed the glimmering surface of a rather large river, and the passengers had the river's name in their hands. Their maps revealed the river's decidedly ironic name. Before them, the Oregon River's waters rushed in parts, or meandered slowly in others. The surface glistened in the morning sun, but the beauty was slightly lessened by the idea that, somehow, they had to get across it.
And then more light. Each second came with such light that Grandore had to shield his eyes by five-thirty.
Grandore walked on, though, squinting his eyes all the while. It was then when he realized that he, along with the Caravan and its travelers as a whole, was about to be faced with an obstacle (their first of many, unfortunately). Ahead revealed the glimmering surface of a rather large river, and the passengers had the river's name in their hands. Their maps revealed the river's decidedly ironic name. Before them, the Oregon River's waters rushed in parts, or meandered slowly in others. The surface glistened in the morning sun, but the beauty was slightly lessened by the idea that, somehow, they had to get across it.