Snippet #2473768

Urist, a hulking bastard of a cyclops strolled on a morning walk by the mountainside, hoping to catch some tasty goats on the way. Feeling refreshed by the cold wind, he decided to look for some more wine to fill his guts. The last batch was not so appetizing, and it was probably not wine either. He wished he did not touch that cauldron he found in a cave. That stuff was nasty.
A pillar of smoke rose on the horizon, was someone pillaging again? Checking that out would still be useful, there might be precious stuff in there.
Urist started strolling down to the woodlands.