OOCFeel free to hate me forever for taking so goddamn long. You can control Marros and Vertrir more in your post upcoming, though: conversation, what have you - just not too much that would affect the outcome of the events.
Jarren did not smile, did not speak, did not acknowledge Garron's awe in any way - but that did not mean he did not notice it. The young Isur was seeing the sky for the very first time, and even the seasoned Hammer himself was still awed by the blanket of blue that stretched endlessly and terrifyingly over the world. The older Isur surveyed the trio of younger Isur before him: all panting, one stoic, the other two evidently excited and amazed, before he nodded.
"Very well then. You may climb into the back of the cart for now, if you wish, or continue to run beside it for as long as you wish. At least two hours of each day we travel must be spent in jogging and weights training, however." Talos interjected: "Even a Hammer needs to train. How else would we achieve such an enviable physique?" Jarren shot his partner a glare. Whether or not the younger Isur noticed was another thing. Arrogance did not befit a Hammer, the military of Izurdin.
When the three had taken their place, Jarren and Talos took their seat at the front of the cart, a rickety chair where they could take the reins of the horses: a strange skill for an Isur to have, but one that Talos seemed to have nonetheless. The cart took off at a lurching halt, and began its slow, winding way through the mountains.
The mountains which were such a stranger to the younger members of the party. Slowly, the ground began to incline, the cart twisting and winding its way through the trees, the shrubbery sparse and the wind biting cold. It was nothing like the younger Isur had ever felt before, and something that was strange and difficult to get used to. Even Talos and Jarren seemed to be affected, holding their shoulders more stiffly than usual, their eyes darting around the strange new landscape.
Or was that the only reason?
As the sun began to edge towards the horizon, and the golden glow of the day muted into a hazy red and an inevitable blue, the stiffness of the two Hammers became even more noticeable. Perhaps not to Marros and Vertir, but perhaps to Garron, the more sensible of the three. Their nervousness was not something recogniseable to the unaware, but to those watching, it was undeniable.
As were the flashes of black feathers in the trees, not seen very often, but seen often enough to not be dismissed as a mirage.
"We're within a few bells travel of the lumber post," announced Jarren, breaking the tense silence, ruined only by the rustling of leaves - a rustling which sounded like something was moving in the shadows. A sudden snap of a twig - "Petch," hissed Talos, turning around, his arm tensed: but nothing happened.
A moment of still, before Jarren spoke again. "We will rest here tonight. No fire. No noise. Rotating watch of two. Be very still and quiet."
.
Jarren did not smile, did not speak, did not acknowledge Garron's awe in any way - but that did not mean he did not notice it. The young Isur was seeing the sky for the very first time, and even the seasoned Hammer himself was still awed by the blanket of blue that stretched endlessly and terrifyingly over the world. The older Isur surveyed the trio of younger Isur before him: all panting, one stoic, the other two evidently excited and amazed, before he nodded.
"Very well then. You may climb into the back of the cart for now, if you wish, or continue to run beside it for as long as you wish. At least two hours of each day we travel must be spent in jogging and weights training, however." Talos interjected: "Even a Hammer needs to train. How else would we achieve such an enviable physique?" Jarren shot his partner a glare. Whether or not the younger Isur noticed was another thing. Arrogance did not befit a Hammer, the military of Izurdin.
When the three had taken their place, Jarren and Talos took their seat at the front of the cart, a rickety chair where they could take the reins of the horses: a strange skill for an Isur to have, but one that Talos seemed to have nonetheless. The cart took off at a lurching halt, and began its slow, winding way through the mountains.
The mountains which were such a stranger to the younger members of the party. Slowly, the ground began to incline, the cart twisting and winding its way through the trees, the shrubbery sparse and the wind biting cold. It was nothing like the younger Isur had ever felt before, and something that was strange and difficult to get used to. Even Talos and Jarren seemed to be affected, holding their shoulders more stiffly than usual, their eyes darting around the strange new landscape.
Or was that the only reason?
As the sun began to edge towards the horizon, and the golden glow of the day muted into a hazy red and an inevitable blue, the stiffness of the two Hammers became even more noticeable. Perhaps not to Marros and Vertir, but perhaps to Garron, the more sensible of the three. Their nervousness was not something recogniseable to the unaware, but to those watching, it was undeniable.
As were the flashes of black feathers in the trees, not seen very often, but seen often enough to not be dismissed as a mirage.
"We're within a few bells travel of the lumber post," announced Jarren, breaking the tense silence, ruined only by the rustling of leaves - a rustling which sounded like something was moving in the shadows. A sudden snap of a twig - "Petch," hissed Talos, turning around, his arm tensed: but nothing happened.
A moment of still, before Jarren spoke again. "We will rest here tonight. No fire. No noise. Rotating watch of two. Be very still and quiet."
.
