PART THREE
Three pairs of bloodshot eyes peered through the wet, leafy branches of low-growing bushes and into the near-darkness towards the treacherous waterfall known as Falls Ende. They lie in concealment, tired and still suffering from the effects of a night of excessive drinking and none were in an agreeable mood. They all wore similar clothes; rough, woollen breeches, tunics, and capuchins covering their head and shoulders. The only other items they wore which separated them from the appearance of normal peasants were the rusty swords sheathed on their hips.
One man, an archer, worse for wear than the other two, also carried an old bow and half a dozen arrows in a quiver that had seen better days, but due to his inebriation, he had failed to protect the bowstring from moisture. It
