West Marches at the Board N Brew

Perry goes out into the woods, the Witchwood, with Doomlorde. He skulks along the eastern edge, scouting the pass between there and the Darkin Woods. It doesn't take long before he is moving like an animal, he is as a bear. He sheds his boots, his tunic, thoughtlessly. He feels the loam of the forest floor between his toes. He is home and the hearth fire is the fire that burns within him. He speaks with the animals, not only to seek the enemy, but to know them and the ways of the Witchwood. Soon, he moves and sings the song of the forest with the birds, the foxes, the leaves on the trees and the very spiders between the branches. He is in tune with each tree. He feels them. Each touch is a greeting, an acknowledgement of their kinship. He forgets that he is a man, and is he anymore? He is propelled as much by his hands across mighty roots as his feet across jagged stones. Where is his quarry? He seeks their position, breathes the air to catch their scent, the scent of un