Need to get this down in between chores:
Fraevon spotted something within a pile of bloodied mulch. Something others would never have spotted nor thought to look for. Quickly dismounting, he sprinted to the dismembered body parts and scorched remains.
“What are you looking for?” shouted Jax, leaving him behind as he made haste towards the one dwarf wrecking machine that was Tumbor.
“These,” replied the Elf quietly, almost as if to himself.
He pulled from gore, a near full quiver of arrows, not Elven, but nor the short crudely made goblin kind either. They were undoubtedly human, most likely pilfered from either the corpse or belongings of a huntsman that was in Greshfell. Examining one closely, Fraevon established the head to be sharp, the shaft to be true, and the fletching to be that of turkey. Satisfied, he transferred them to his own quiver before setting off after Jax.