Your Words I My Words I My Thoughts
Summer, 2nd day, 517
Balian sat atop his horse, Athos, clad in the newly bought gear as he observed the formation of the caravan that was to leave for Riverfall that very morning. He was to act as a member of the escort, his Patron and him, along with small contingent of knights, and there was little he could do to contain his excitement. He was leaving. The wider world was open to him. New places, new people, new experiences. These were things that Balian longed for, and finally the Order was giving him that opportunity.
He had arrived early, well before Syna began to rise in the sky, making sure that he had all his gear worn and in place, having packed the night before. His new gear filling him with confidence and a modicum of pride. His new leather armour, still stiff in its newness squeaked softly each time he moved. His bow rested to his right, strung on its nook built into the saddle next to his quiver full of arrows. His sword hung from its place on the left flank of the horse, easily accessible should he need it. Two daggers sheathed at the back of his belt, while his hunting knife and horn hung from the sides. The rest of his gear had been packed into the saddle bags attached; his tent, bedroll, and all the other gear he would need to survive the trip. As he sat there, atop his horse outside the city gates, Balian looked almost professional.
The workings of a caravan were unfamiliar to Balian. Motionless, he was an island in the midst a cacophony of voices and activity. The action was taking place just outside the city gates; people loading wagons with goods, merchants and citizens alike haggling over last minute purchases, dogs and other animals running through the constant shifting maze of legs and wood. Even so, Balian was able to make out the subtle patterns through it all, the seeming chaos marching to some unseen rhythm. In truth, he enjoyed watching the activity as he waited for his Patron Knight to come with their orders. He liked seeing the different individuals that will make up the whole; the merchants in their rich cloth, the knights in their armour, adventurers, craftsmen and citizens taking advantage to migrate to another city. The squire couldn’t tell who was managing all this as different groups attempted to impose order, but slowly the wagons were loaded, and the people herded into what was beginning to appear as long line waiting to set off along the Kabrin Road.
His thoughts were interrupted by Borr Uldrin as he approached Balian on horseback. The knight wore his typical mix of Plate and chain amour, his axe hanging down the side of his mount. Just as Balian had been conscious of his appearance, so was knight; the large man’s thick beard had been recently braided, and his hair seemed less wild today than usual. Balian sat up on his saddle as his Patron cantered to a stop, waiting for Ser Uldrin to relay their orders from the caravan captain. The older man looked over Balian in his new gear, “Seems a bit light fer my’like, but it should suit ye jus’fine” he said giving an approving nod. “Ye get evr’ting ye need lad?” His voice was deep but jovial, the usual tone he took with his squire in less formal matters. Balian motioned towards the packs that his horse was carrying, “Rations, camping equipment, other basic items… I should have everything. Even got myself a new bow and some hunting equipment in case we get the chance!” the part he said with a smile, patting his bow affectionately. “Good, ye seem prepared then.”
The knight maneuvered his horse to draw up alongside his squire. For a moment the two remained there, a Knight and his squire observing the caravan as it formed. Syna had by this time begun to set light upon the sky as she rose out of the horizon. “Our orders from Captain Fildred are to ride next to the column as it moves out,” Uldrin spoke, his tone losing its informality, now a knight doing his duty “t’keep things orderly as we start. I’ll ride up a’head. Ye should keep to this position fer’know.” Balian nodded familiar with the tone and knowing that his own duty was about to commence. , “Aye, Ser”. Borr looked over at the young man and grinned, returning to his usual informality before urging his horse forward. A call rose up from the front of the train, signalling for the caravan to move out.
The Journey to Riverfall had begun.
Balian sat atop his horse, Athos, clad in the newly bought gear as he observed the formation of the caravan that was to leave for Riverfall that very morning. He was to act as a member of the escort, his Patron and him, along with small contingent of knights, and there was little he could do to contain his excitement. He was leaving. The wider world was open to him. New places, new people, new experiences. These were things that Balian longed for, and finally the Order was giving him that opportunity.
He had arrived early, well before Syna began to rise in the sky, making sure that he had all his gear worn and in place, having packed the night before. His new gear filling him with confidence and a modicum of pride. His new leather armour, still stiff in its newness squeaked softly each time he moved. His bow rested to his right, strung on its nook built into the saddle next to his quiver full of arrows. His sword hung from its place on the left flank of the horse, easily accessible should he need it. Two daggers sheathed at the back of his belt, while his hunting knife and horn hung from the sides. The rest of his gear had been packed into the saddle bags attached; his tent, bedroll, and all the other gear he would need to survive the trip. As he sat there, atop his horse outside the city gates, Balian looked almost professional.
The workings of a caravan were unfamiliar to Balian. Motionless, he was an island in the midst a cacophony of voices and activity. The action was taking place just outside the city gates; people loading wagons with goods, merchants and citizens alike haggling over last minute purchases, dogs and other animals running through the constant shifting maze of legs and wood. Even so, Balian was able to make out the subtle patterns through it all, the seeming chaos marching to some unseen rhythm. In truth, he enjoyed watching the activity as he waited for his Patron Knight to come with their orders. He liked seeing the different individuals that will make up the whole; the merchants in their rich cloth, the knights in their armour, adventurers, craftsmen and citizens taking advantage to migrate to another city. The squire couldn’t tell who was managing all this as different groups attempted to impose order, but slowly the wagons were loaded, and the people herded into what was beginning to appear as long line waiting to set off along the Kabrin Road.
His thoughts were interrupted by Borr Uldrin as he approached Balian on horseback. The knight wore his typical mix of Plate and chain amour, his axe hanging down the side of his mount. Just as Balian had been conscious of his appearance, so was knight; the large man’s thick beard had been recently braided, and his hair seemed less wild today than usual. Balian sat up on his saddle as his Patron cantered to a stop, waiting for Ser Uldrin to relay their orders from the caravan captain. The older man looked over Balian in his new gear, “Seems a bit light fer my’like, but it should suit ye jus’fine” he said giving an approving nod. “Ye get evr’ting ye need lad?” His voice was deep but jovial, the usual tone he took with his squire in less formal matters. Balian motioned towards the packs that his horse was carrying, “Rations, camping equipment, other basic items… I should have everything. Even got myself a new bow and some hunting equipment in case we get the chance!” the part he said with a smile, patting his bow affectionately. “Good, ye seem prepared then.”
The knight maneuvered his horse to draw up alongside his squire. For a moment the two remained there, a Knight and his squire observing the caravan as it formed. Syna had by this time begun to set light upon the sky as she rose out of the horizon. “Our orders from Captain Fildred are to ride next to the column as it moves out,” Uldrin spoke, his tone losing its informality, now a knight doing his duty “t’keep things orderly as we start. I’ll ride up a’head. Ye should keep to this position fer’know.” Balian nodded familiar with the tone and knowing that his own duty was about to commence. , “Aye, Ser”. Borr looked over at the young man and grinned, returning to his usual informality before urging his horse forward. A call rose up from the front of the train, signalling for the caravan to move out.
The Journey to Riverfall had begun.
