General > Roleplaying
The Estranged Wood
Kensii:
Kensii sighed a heavy sigh. It had been several months since the third battle at Shilling Fields in the wastes of Fauldenfell. He had gotten separated from his sword-brothers in the mass confusion of battle and was pursued by enemy Fish-O-Mancers. He dispatched them quickly but before long was lost in a large and gloomy wood. He had heard stories from his allies in Middle Earth of such a wood, had he strayed so far south though?
He leaned against a fallen tree and looked up. The smell of moisture and soil was heavy in the air. He has been living off the land and hunting as much as he could. Oh, how he longed for a rice ball. He missed his allies and his friends. I will have to get out of this wood soon or I risk insanity. I will... There was a rustle off in nearby bushes.
Kensii grabbed his sword and said wearily, "Who is that? Who goes there? Reveal yourself immediately!"
((This is the first RP I have done in a while, lets see if we can't get something cool going again, like old times :))))
Dralcos Singol, The Swamp King:
Damn . . . I've gotten sloppy in this the huntsman looked down at his hands, dull human form. Might as well get this over with . . . The younger man with a thick goatie and moustache wrapped head to toe in furs with a fur satchel over his shoulder full of furs and traps. He raised his free left-hand and held it out as if surrendering, with a thick almost russian accent, "Be vell comrade'. I me'n no haa'rm to you. It is good to finali run into somevun else oud heer."
Giving Kensii a once over, he looked at him curiously as he lowered his hand, "You don' look like you 'now ze' area zat vell comrade. Are you lost?"
Rainen:
Rainen was loafing in an old tree, musing about his career as a Ranger. Below and all around, his company worked to fortify the position. Deadfall and sandbags were being pulled into barricades and cavalry spikes. Bunkers were being dug, shored up, and reinforced. Watchtowers were being erected. Positions were being taken. Watches being set. Braziers being lit. Tents being pitched...
Yet he never issued the order to do so. Must be old habits- or his engineers were going crazy...
In any case, he felt right at home in his tree. One arrow knocked, two eyes on the surround.
Below, Svenrir's ears were twitching in his half-sleep.
I can hear two people in the woods beyond. They're interrupting my nap...
Rainen took a drink from his waterskin with his free hand.
I'll send a patrol out soon. He replied, only slightly interested.
Kensii:
Kensii had the appearance of a mix of cultures and lands. His sandals looked eastern but their material clearly came from one of the Dagorhir plains, wrapped from his ankles to his knees a set of grey winnigas fit to the form of his calves, his pants were an pair of eastern riding hakama, a tunic rested upon his shoulders loose and flowing, to top it all of he had a large black cloak on to keep him warm. A mish-mash of poor design choices really.
Still with a grip on his sword, "Aye, traveler. I am. I came through this wood seeking a short cut home and well, as you can see, got lost. I assume you are well versed in the area?" Kensii's stomach growled a long drawn out rumble, "Also, I haven't eaten in at least a day. Have any spare food?"
Radzok:
"You want out of the woods? I can assist..." Radzok chimes in from behind a tree as he steps around. He is wrapped tightly in a large, woolen cloak. Visible beneath the cloak is the bottom of a surcoat, a scabbard, and the glint of a steel bracer.
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