Quest for a hero

The old man eased himself off his pony and looked around him. A dense wall of trees tightly ringed the wide clearing. The trees were so closely packed that it was impossible to see more than a few paces beyond them in any direction. He looked behind him surprised that he could no longer see the path that had followed to reach the clearing. Although he had been to this place many times before it never seemed the same, It always looked or felt as if it were somewhere completely different. Hooded figures, scarcely visible in the twilight emerged from the shadows under the trees. Dark robes stretched to the ground covering the figures' feet so that they seemed to float. The long hoods shrouding their faces giving them a sinister appearance. The old man passed the reins of his pony to one of the silent figures that huddled around him. 'Is everything ready? He pulled his own deeply hooded cowl back to allow a clearer view. 'How many have you here?' 'Twenty acolytes Master.'