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 Post subject: Passageway to Dreadmoor
 Post Posted: Mon Jun 02, 2014 12:54 am 
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Joined: Sun Jun 01, 2014 9:35 pm
Posts: 4
[September 2013]

"Dreadmoor.This is the Land of Dreadmoor."

Erras lips turn up slightly as she tilts her hood back, letting the drops of rain hit her cheeks. The trees cast deep shadows along a long and winding path as a mist cascades over the lush green forest. The ground sloshes and sighs under her feet as her humble cart rolls steadily behind her.

She makes her way though the woods looking for the group of travelers and warriors she had read about. Fliers all over the kingdom have boasted about a monarch coming to these woods for a very special event called midreign. What better place to set up shop than in the presence of those who have come to feast with kings? Surely the king does not feast with just anyone.

A bit of smoke lingers in the morning air, the smell of meat cooking over and open flame. "I must be near."
She reaches a clearing, bright banners peaking over the edges of the forest brush.
Clash! Clash! The metallic screams of sword fight reach her ears. Men bellow as if war is upon them.

Erra crouches in the brush swiftly, her hands poised over her daggers, ready to fight any who opose her.
Clash! Clash! Clash!!
"Argh!"
Laughter.
"Good fight!"
"Well done"

Erra peers over the tall grass to see men, swords lowered, shaking hands and smiling. Practice with friendly swords. That's something I will have to get used to.

A feeling of being studied washes over her.
Crack! Honk!
What was that?

A flash of black to her side off in the far brush. Erra flashes her eyes to the west only to see nothing where the darkness once lingered.

Anxiety rolling off her shoulders, Erra stands and takes a deep breath, her eyes still trained to the west. After a moment of scanning, Errs turns wearily, grasps the handle of her cart, and walks through the brush into the clearing to join in the festivities.

- Erra


Last edited by Erra on Thu Mar 12, 2015 11:16 am, edited 2 times in total.

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 Post Posted: Thu Jun 05, 2014 11:49 am 
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Joined: Thu Feb 02, 2006 8:42 pm
Posts: 1772
Sutra tightens the last strap on his simple cart, housing remnants and new additions to his small collection of merchant wares. Wiping his brow and taking a moments rest, he notices a new face in the sea of unfamiliar faces, sojourning North for the midreign celebration.

Her gray eyes dart as she takes in the lively details coming to life all around her. Sutra smiles to himself, recognizing the tell tale characteristics of a newcomer to these lands.

He silently whispers a prayer for her protection. Glancing around, the veteran merchant mounts his dusty wagon and peers into the early morning sky.

He breathes deep. He looks forward to seeing familiar faces and learning new names. With a crack of worn leather reigns, the old mule let's out an inconvenienced honk, as the wagon lurches to life.

To the North.
S

_________________
The general who advances without seeking fame and retreats without fearing disgrace, whose only thought is to protect his country and do service for his sovereign, is the jewel of his kingdom. -Sun Wu


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