Summer 43, 514
Alex woke to the sound of morning birds. He still didn’t know what kind of birds they were, but the calls were becoming familiar, and comforting. He laid in bed briefly, as the soft calls penetrated the walls to his room. He was in a good mood, he thought to himself, a small smile finding its way onto his face. Alex climbed out of the small bed in his small cottage, and got dressed for breakfast. He only had two sets of clothes, a felt set that he had recently bought. He was told that felt was water resistant, and that was always a nice thing to have in the swamp. Though if you were submerged in water, it really wouldn’t matter how water resistant your clothes were. But, he had been as careful as he could, and his clothes had survived so far. He wanted to look nice for meals, it was one of the few times a day that he came into contact with the people who ran the place. Those brief encounters were more than enough to put any mercenary on edge.
Alex walked up to the large, posh manor that housed the family that owned the land. He didn’t know who many there were, but it seemed an awful lot. There was plenty of room in that house for everyone of them to have their own room. It often hurt Alex’s head to think of that. It was completely opposite of what he had been born into, where the rooms were crammed so tight into the bowels of the castle that you could spend days without fresh air. And the torches could suffocate you if you weren’t careful- at least that was the legend. Alex met with one of the house slaves, who quickly produced a large plate of hot food, laden with myriad food common in Kenash. A thick grain meal, fresh cooked sausage and eggs. It was a meal that only a person in Kenash could enjoy with the abundance of crops, and livestock.
Alex enjoyed every bite of the meal, that the slaves had labored over all morning. Their hard work, and dedication showed, though he suspected if the slaves underperformed, they would not have a good day. He had been informed that Varya had a job for him, and while he found her absolutely terrifying, he was excited to have something to do today. He had been growing listless over the days with nothing to tax him. He finished quickly, within a few chimes and rinsed off his plate before returning it to one of the slaves at the house- who was no doubt excited to be cleaning up after other people.
He found Varya rather quickly. She was the loudest and meanest person that commonly interacted with the hired hands that did various jobs around the plantation. She was giving orders to another mercenary, who looked about ready to shyke his pants as the Myrian insulted his manhood while telling him to not fail his job. He sighed as she turned her attention to Alex. She waved him away, and motioned to Alex.
“How nice of you to finally grace us with your presence.” she growled, the words cutting Alex more than he thought was possible.
He just kept quiet as she continued, “I’ve got a simple task for someone with a simple mind, I immediately thought of you.” she said rather unpleasantly. And Alex too was about ready to shyke his pants.
She handed him a sealed metal tube, and an odd instrument that Alex had seen before, but wasn’t intimately familiar with. “You know how to use a map, and compass don’t you?” she asked loudly, daring him to lie.
Alex clicked his tongue then shook his head, “No, I’m afraid not.” he answered quietly.
She stood there, stunned, like he had just struck her with an open hand. “Oh sweet Dira, you’ve got to be petching kidding me.”
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Completed Property Lines
Alex checks the borders of the Sitai Plantation
(This is a thread from Mizahar's fantasy roleplay forums. Why don't you register today? This message is not shown when you are logged in. Come roleplay with us, it's fun!)This lazy agricultural settlement rests on the swampy shores of the Middle Suvan at the delta of The Kenash River. The River's slow moving bayou waters have bred a different sort of people - rugged, cultured, and somewhat violent. Sprawling plantations of tobacco and cotton grow on the outskirts of the swamp in the rich Cyphrus soils, while the city itself curls around the bayou and spawns decadence and sins of all sorts. Life is slower in Kenash, but the lack of pace is made up for in the excesses of food and flesh in a city where drinking, debauchery, gambling, slavery, and overbearing plantation families dominate the landscape.
Moderator: Gossamer
Property Lines
by Alexander Hamish Moore on July 22nd, 2014, 7:42 pm
Last edited by Alexander Hamish Moore on August 11th, 2014, 4:23 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Alexander Hamish Moore - Kenashian Strider
- Posts: 60
- Words: 55185
- Joined roleplay: June 27th, 2014, 7:06 am
- Race: Human
- Character sheet
- Storyteller secrets
Property Lines
by Alexander Hamish Moore on July 23rd, 2014, 7:13 am
Varya stared at Alex, her eyes full of disbelief, and contempt. “How did you get through like without falling on your own petching sword?” she snarled, slobbering in anger. She brought her hand up to for forehead, and rubbed it, “You mercenaries are gonna be the death of me.” then she sighed and opened up the tube, pulling out a large, slightly aged map.
“Listen well, because I wont petching repeat myself. Youre lucky your other skills will come in handy, or I would have thrown your ass out onto the road.” she growled, eyeing the mercenary briefly before continuing.
She laid the paper out flat, it was a very detailed map, showing plots of land, buildings, paths, roads, creeks, dangerous areas of the property, and the fence lines. It was a fairly accurate, and painstakingly put to scale on the map. There was a little symbol in the corner, ornately inked to look like a rose with a series of letters arranged around it. It was one of the most beautiful pieces of paper Alex had seen. “Maps are pretty petching simple. Even you should be able to figure this out.”
She set the instrument that she had called a compass on the map, and opened the brass top relieving the face of the tool. It had similar markings that were on the map, but it was much simpler, and the it looked like the needle inside the compass was some sort of grey stone, that bobbed and turned slightly inside the brass compartment. She adjusted the map so that the ‘N’ on the map and the ‘N’ dial were facing the same direction. “She pointed to where the two ‘N’s matched up, that’s north. You can use this to navigate your direction, and keep your bearings. Its not perfect, but using landmarks and the proper heading you should be able to figure roughly where you are.” she looked at Alex, trying to decide if he had followed her or not. She sighed again, and rolled the map back up, “Well, sink or swim. Your assignment is to walk the fence line, and mark where the fences need mending, and any other oddities that we should know about. Don’t get yourself into anything stupid, a dead merc is too much work for us on the plantation.”
She waved her hand, dismissing Alex like she had with the previous mercenary. He was excited, and terrified at the same time. It was indeed shaping up to be a good day, if a bit over exciting. He almost skipped back to his little home in the swamp, while clutching the map and compass. He set them carefully on his bed, while he sorted through his gear. He laid almost everything he owned onto his bed. Mostly it was survival gear. He attached his tent, and bed roll to his pack, and looped his rope around the straps. He wanted to be prepared for anything that might happen in the swamp land. He put on his weapon harness, just belts, and buckles that made it easier to wear his weapons. He clicked his sword and scabbard into place on his right hip, and his hunting knife on his left. His quiver was attached just behind the sword, to where the arrows were in easy reach, but didn’t impede his sword. He kept his bow case- essentially a bow holster- hooked near his knife. Then he slung his bag over his shoulder and adjust the belts, and straps until the weight was as evenly distributed as he could get it.
He took a deep breath, and stepped back out into the world, ready to take on any challenge. He walked north, towards the Kabrin Road, to start at the north east corner of the property, and work his way around in as efficient manner as possible. It was a short walk, through the dim morning light. Were it not for the early morning bugs that assaulted him endlessly, it would be almost a perfect morning. It was rather cool, as a soft breeze was blowing in from Suvan sea, ruffling his hair. He enjoyed the feeling, it was the same breeze that would often blow into Syliras. He smiled sweetly, forgetting where he was for a moment as he enjoyed the feeling. He closed his eyes, and thought of home, and his mother. He wondered how she was, he wondered how all the friends he had made and left were. He wondered how the knights were, and wished that they would remain sage- he had always thought that they were a nice bunch, if a little strict.
When the breeze died down, Alex opened his eyes. The view of Kenash was breathtaking, and very present. He hadn’t noticed reaching the well worn Kabrin Road. He had been up, and down the road many times. As much as he liked Syliras, this was his home now. This swamp, the dynasty, and the freeborn, they were what mattered. Well, that and making money. Alex followed the road east, and pulled out the map, and compass. He turned until he was facing north, well, now what? He thought. He knew where north was, but…. That didn’t really help him here, as he needed to go south…
He scratched his head, and spun around briefly. The dial always pointed north. He rolled the map up, and stuffed it into the waterproof container. He turned roughly south, and walked the line between the Sitai and Morealis plantations. According to the map, it was a straight line, for almost 2 miles. It seemed like a short walk on paper, but navigating the uncultivated areas of the plantation land was much hard than he imagined.
He had begun to hum to himself, as he marked a spot here, and a there. Places in the fence that needed mending, or places where the land markers no longer matched with that the map had to say. He had almost gotten into a pattern, when several voices pierced the thick swamp growth. The little chunk of land was out of the way for there to be slaves, and he couldn’t imagine the dandies that lived in fancy houses would navigated all the way here. That left only one, rather terrifying alternitve for Alex. Rujaro. More than one of them.
Alex was not the most skilled fighter, he certainly could not fight more than one person at a time and win. So he did the only sensible thing he could think of. He ducked into the undergrowth, and shallow water. Where he met a pair of very blue eyes.
“Listen well, because I wont petching repeat myself. Youre lucky your other skills will come in handy, or I would have thrown your ass out onto the road.” she growled, eyeing the mercenary briefly before continuing.
She laid the paper out flat, it was a very detailed map, showing plots of land, buildings, paths, roads, creeks, dangerous areas of the property, and the fence lines. It was a fairly accurate, and painstakingly put to scale on the map. There was a little symbol in the corner, ornately inked to look like a rose with a series of letters arranged around it. It was one of the most beautiful pieces of paper Alex had seen. “Maps are pretty petching simple. Even you should be able to figure this out.”
She set the instrument that she had called a compass on the map, and opened the brass top relieving the face of the tool. It had similar markings that were on the map, but it was much simpler, and the it looked like the needle inside the compass was some sort of grey stone, that bobbed and turned slightly inside the brass compartment. She adjusted the map so that the ‘N’ on the map and the ‘N’ dial were facing the same direction. “She pointed to where the two ‘N’s matched up, that’s north. You can use this to navigate your direction, and keep your bearings. Its not perfect, but using landmarks and the proper heading you should be able to figure roughly where you are.” she looked at Alex, trying to decide if he had followed her or not. She sighed again, and rolled the map back up, “Well, sink or swim. Your assignment is to walk the fence line, and mark where the fences need mending, and any other oddities that we should know about. Don’t get yourself into anything stupid, a dead merc is too much work for us on the plantation.”
She waved her hand, dismissing Alex like she had with the previous mercenary. He was excited, and terrified at the same time. It was indeed shaping up to be a good day, if a bit over exciting. He almost skipped back to his little home in the swamp, while clutching the map and compass. He set them carefully on his bed, while he sorted through his gear. He laid almost everything he owned onto his bed. Mostly it was survival gear. He attached his tent, and bed roll to his pack, and looped his rope around the straps. He wanted to be prepared for anything that might happen in the swamp land. He put on his weapon harness, just belts, and buckles that made it easier to wear his weapons. He clicked his sword and scabbard into place on his right hip, and his hunting knife on his left. His quiver was attached just behind the sword, to where the arrows were in easy reach, but didn’t impede his sword. He kept his bow case- essentially a bow holster- hooked near his knife. Then he slung his bag over his shoulder and adjust the belts, and straps until the weight was as evenly distributed as he could get it.
He took a deep breath, and stepped back out into the world, ready to take on any challenge. He walked north, towards the Kabrin Road, to start at the north east corner of the property, and work his way around in as efficient manner as possible. It was a short walk, through the dim morning light. Were it not for the early morning bugs that assaulted him endlessly, it would be almost a perfect morning. It was rather cool, as a soft breeze was blowing in from Suvan sea, ruffling his hair. He enjoyed the feeling, it was the same breeze that would often blow into Syliras. He smiled sweetly, forgetting where he was for a moment as he enjoyed the feeling. He closed his eyes, and thought of home, and his mother. He wondered how she was, he wondered how all the friends he had made and left were. He wondered how the knights were, and wished that they would remain sage- he had always thought that they were a nice bunch, if a little strict.
When the breeze died down, Alex opened his eyes. The view of Kenash was breathtaking, and very present. He hadn’t noticed reaching the well worn Kabrin Road. He had been up, and down the road many times. As much as he liked Syliras, this was his home now. This swamp, the dynasty, and the freeborn, they were what mattered. Well, that and making money. Alex followed the road east, and pulled out the map, and compass. He turned until he was facing north, well, now what? He thought. He knew where north was, but…. That didn’t really help him here, as he needed to go south…
He scratched his head, and spun around briefly. The dial always pointed north. He rolled the map up, and stuffed it into the waterproof container. He turned roughly south, and walked the line between the Sitai and Morealis plantations. According to the map, it was a straight line, for almost 2 miles. It seemed like a short walk on paper, but navigating the uncultivated areas of the plantation land was much hard than he imagined.
He had begun to hum to himself, as he marked a spot here, and a there. Places in the fence that needed mending, or places where the land markers no longer matched with that the map had to say. He had almost gotten into a pattern, when several voices pierced the thick swamp growth. The little chunk of land was out of the way for there to be slaves, and he couldn’t imagine the dandies that lived in fancy houses would navigated all the way here. That left only one, rather terrifying alternitve for Alex. Rujaro. More than one of them.
Alex was not the most skilled fighter, he certainly could not fight more than one person at a time and win. So he did the only sensible thing he could think of. He ducked into the undergrowth, and shallow water. Where he met a pair of very blue eyes.
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Alexander Hamish Moore - Kenashian Strider
- Posts: 60
- Words: 55185
- Joined roleplay: June 27th, 2014, 7:06 am
- Race: Human
- Character sheet
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Property Lines
by Alexander Hamish Moore on July 23rd, 2014, 8:13 am
Alex stared, senselessly, at the sight that he stumbled upon. The blue eyes were scared, the face that they belonged to was dirty. It was a young woman, who had spotted Alex, and hid, probably thinking the same thing that he had thought of. She was rather gaunt, like she hadn’t eaten well for sometime. He thought to himself what she was doing here, but if he had been thinking clearly he would have realized that they were planning to poach some of the abundant, if early crops that were grown on the plantation. She was rather beautiful. Alex could hear her shallow, and terrified breathing. It slowly set on him that the Rujaro would probably want to kill him.
The thought echoed in his head, rebounding and building up strength. He felt his own breathing become shallow. His own heart begin to pound in his chest, while his vision seemed to recede. But he could still see clearly. He watched as she opened her mouth the let out a scream. Without any prompt, Alex felt his body move. He was on the girl, faster than he had ever thought was possible. But he wasn’t in control.
He felt her clawing at his arms, as his hands closed around her throat. But those couldn’t be his hands. He had not told his hands to do that. That wasn’t his blood dripping down his arms. It couldn’t be his blood, trailing down her cheeks, turning the dirt on her face red. He didn’t feel anything. He was watching someone else, he had to be. He didn’t want to do this. Why was this happening? How was this happening?
He watched from what seemed a distance, but he could still feel everything. He felt her nails breaking on his skill and shirt. He felt the wetness of his blood as it tickled his arm. He felt the tenderness of her throat. He didn’t know why he felt these things. “Stop.” he ordered his hands. But the words echoed through a hollow shell. There was a darkness, a power that all beings possessed. The will to live had taken over. No pain, no remorse, no qualms. Just power. Just fact. Just life.
Alex watched in horror, and the blood from his arms washed over her face, cleaning the mud and dirt, but replacing it with a more horrible visage. Her blue eyes were full of anger and rage. Daring him to continue this attack, she had all day to claw his arms. Though they both knew that she didn’t. Her eyes were growing bloodshot, and her ferocious clawing was slowing. She didn’t have the strength to move out from under him. Or to do much more damage. She was stuck. And as she felt herself become weaker, the rage inside her was dwindling. But her eyes were not empty yet. Alex watched in horror, unable to act in his own body as her eyes asked, “Why?”
Alex wanted to stop, he wanted her to live. But the growing darkness in his soul would not relinquish its control. It would not stop until every ounce of life was gone from her. He could feel that, just as surely as he felt her supple throat being crushed under his own weight. Tears joined the menagerie of colors on her face, Alex couldn't tell if they were hers or his own.
He watched as she tried opened her mouth again, to call out. He felt the last breath that would ever leave her, wasted, in a gentle raspy whisper, the barely reached his ear. It was her last futile effort, begging for help that would never hear or come. Her eyes begged, and pleaded. Alex would have stopped if he could, but the primordial part of man had risen from the abyss. Her eyes rolled, and her throat collapsed. There was no life left in her.
Alex screamed inside his own head at the crime he had just done. He wanted to heave, he wanted to die. He wanted to trade his life for hers. What had he done? But his own body still refused commands. The darkness that every man borne was receding, but it had already done its cruel, and senseless deed. How long Alex sat, he didn’t know. He had heard the other Rujaro leave, making fun of the woman that lay slain. They called her Amanda. When their steps faded into silence, the darkness fully receded into the abyss of his soul, and returned control to his body.
Then Alex truly wailed, scattering birds resting in the canopy above his head. He wailed at the death of this girl, at the powerlessness he had felt, the searing pain in his arm, he wailed that he was alive. He beseeched Dira, and Kihala, and Rak’ Keli. He begged that their places be switched. He didn’t want to live with himself, not after this act. Not after knowing that he had such a stygian abyss in his soul. He wailed louder than he ever had. He cried for her, because she had never been able to cry. He cradled her, begging anyone that would listen to take this back. He didn’t want this, he never wanted this to happen. Why would no one answer? Why was she dead? Why was he alive?
The thought echoed in his head, rebounding and building up strength. He felt his own breathing become shallow. His own heart begin to pound in his chest, while his vision seemed to recede. But he could still see clearly. He watched as she opened her mouth the let out a scream. Without any prompt, Alex felt his body move. He was on the girl, faster than he had ever thought was possible. But he wasn’t in control.
He felt her clawing at his arms, as his hands closed around her throat. But those couldn’t be his hands. He had not told his hands to do that. That wasn’t his blood dripping down his arms. It couldn’t be his blood, trailing down her cheeks, turning the dirt on her face red. He didn’t feel anything. He was watching someone else, he had to be. He didn’t want to do this. Why was this happening? How was this happening?
He watched from what seemed a distance, but he could still feel everything. He felt her nails breaking on his skill and shirt. He felt the wetness of his blood as it tickled his arm. He felt the tenderness of her throat. He didn’t know why he felt these things. “Stop.” he ordered his hands. But the words echoed through a hollow shell. There was a darkness, a power that all beings possessed. The will to live had taken over. No pain, no remorse, no qualms. Just power. Just fact. Just life.
Alex watched in horror, and the blood from his arms washed over her face, cleaning the mud and dirt, but replacing it with a more horrible visage. Her blue eyes were full of anger and rage. Daring him to continue this attack, she had all day to claw his arms. Though they both knew that she didn’t. Her eyes were growing bloodshot, and her ferocious clawing was slowing. She didn’t have the strength to move out from under him. Or to do much more damage. She was stuck. And as she felt herself become weaker, the rage inside her was dwindling. But her eyes were not empty yet. Alex watched in horror, unable to act in his own body as her eyes asked, “Why?”
Alex wanted to stop, he wanted her to live. But the growing darkness in his soul would not relinquish its control. It would not stop until every ounce of life was gone from her. He could feel that, just as surely as he felt her supple throat being crushed under his own weight. Tears joined the menagerie of colors on her face, Alex couldn't tell if they were hers or his own.
He watched as she tried opened her mouth again, to call out. He felt the last breath that would ever leave her, wasted, in a gentle raspy whisper, the barely reached his ear. It was her last futile effort, begging for help that would never hear or come. Her eyes begged, and pleaded. Alex would have stopped if he could, but the primordial part of man had risen from the abyss. Her eyes rolled, and her throat collapsed. There was no life left in her.
Alex screamed inside his own head at the crime he had just done. He wanted to heave, he wanted to die. He wanted to trade his life for hers. What had he done? But his own body still refused commands. The darkness that every man borne was receding, but it had already done its cruel, and senseless deed. How long Alex sat, he didn’t know. He had heard the other Rujaro leave, making fun of the woman that lay slain. They called her Amanda. When their steps faded into silence, the darkness fully receded into the abyss of his soul, and returned control to his body.
Then Alex truly wailed, scattering birds resting in the canopy above his head. He wailed at the death of this girl, at the powerlessness he had felt, the searing pain in his arm, he wailed that he was alive. He beseeched Dira, and Kihala, and Rak’ Keli. He begged that their places be switched. He didn’t want to live with himself, not after this act. Not after knowing that he had such a stygian abyss in his soul. He wailed louder than he ever had. He cried for her, because she had never been able to cry. He cradled her, begging anyone that would listen to take this back. He didn’t want this, he never wanted this to happen. Why would no one answer? Why was she dead? Why was he alive?
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Alexander Hamish Moore - Kenashian Strider
- Posts: 60
- Words: 55185
- Joined roleplay: June 27th, 2014, 7:06 am
- Race: Human
- Character sheet
- Storyteller secrets
Property Lines
by Alexander Hamish Moore on July 25th, 2014, 8:29 am
A calm had settled over Alex. The anger had buried it self deep into his soul. But, it would do no good here, not aimed at the gods. They had better things to do, they didn’t care about the death of a nameless Rujaro. Alex looked at the sun, it was sinking in the west. The bugs who had sheltered from the searing Kenash heat returned, hungry, and mean. Alex ignored the bites, and shooed them away from the corpse of the young woman. The woman her friends had called ‘Amanda’, her friends who didn’t even know she was dead. He breathed the damp air slowly, and whispered to Dira, if she wouldn’t return the dead, maybe she would at least protect Amanda on the path of death. He wanted to try and understand why the god of death allowed this to happen. He closed his eyes, hoping for an answer to blow in on the breeze. But, only silence wafted in from the Suvan Sea.
With no answer, Alex turned to the woman he had unjustly strangled. Her face was covered in dirt, and blood, and streaked with her tears. It was not the mask she should have worn in death. Alex brushed her hair out of her face, and closed her eye lids. He couldn’t take back this act. There was no magic in all the world that would make this right. He wanted to tell her that he was sorry, she wouldn’t hear it. But, she shouldn’t have to meet Lhex so filthy. She didn’t deserve that. Alex laid out his tarp on a patch of elevated dirt, slightly less wet than where she had died.
Alex laid her gently on the tarp, and took out his water skin. He poured a few drops tenderly on her face, and lightly brushed the dirt, and blood off her still warm skin. He poured a little water on his fingers, and brushed them slowly through her short brown hair. Cleaning dirt, and rocks, and twigs from the tangles. Then Alex took each of her hands, and washed the blood, and caked on mud. It was a poor effort to make her look less dirty, but it was the best he could do. He didn’t think that the people of Kenash would approve of such actions, or any sort of funeral for a Rujaro. But Alex wasn’t from Kenash, and he felt that she deserved to be buried.
He didn’t have any tools, but he should have thought of that before he killed this woman. He moved handfuls of mud, as fast as he could. The bugs had a fest, while Alex kept digging bell after bell until he was satisfied with the little hole he had carved in the mud. Alex brushed Amanda’s hair one last time, and wrapped the tarp around her gently but firmly, and softly laying her in the hole. He pushed the mud back over her, covering her completely. It was an act of finality, that made Alex shiver. He covered the makeshift grave with dead brush, and thorns.
He gathered his gear, and checked the map, trying to figure out where he was. It was almost too dark to read. He wasn’t too far away from the manor, the property wasn’t too expansive in any one direction. He could probably make it back in a few bells in day light. And he didn’t want to leave the grave just yet. Amanda deserved some company, while she traveled with Dira. Alex gathered some tinder, and small sticks. He struck his the steel striker over the flint, showering some fairly dry tinder with bright orange sparks.
After a few more chimes of work, a soft glow burned inside the nest of tinder. Alex added smaller sticks, as the fire slowly burned, until he had a small stable fire that washed the little area around the grave with a pale orange. It was peaceful, and serene as the pall of night settled on the marsh. The songs of animals that were unknown, and numerous sang a dirge for Amanda.
Why had I survived Alex thought, looking over the grave as the moon began to poke its head over the tree line. He had remembered the feeling that had taken over his body. Nothing he had ever experienced came close to naming that force. Was that his will to live? Was survival all that mattered to him? He stoked the fire, and sat quietly. The eyes of Amanda haunted Alex, but he knew he deserved it. The eyes were his punishment for the terrible sin he had committed with his bear hands. This was how she would live now. Her life had paid for Alex’s continued existence, and those eyes would always be there, staring. Stealing every moment of happiness that she was owed. And he accepted that.
With no answer, Alex turned to the woman he had unjustly strangled. Her face was covered in dirt, and blood, and streaked with her tears. It was not the mask she should have worn in death. Alex brushed her hair out of her face, and closed her eye lids. He couldn’t take back this act. There was no magic in all the world that would make this right. He wanted to tell her that he was sorry, she wouldn’t hear it. But, she shouldn’t have to meet Lhex so filthy. She didn’t deserve that. Alex laid out his tarp on a patch of elevated dirt, slightly less wet than where she had died.
Alex laid her gently on the tarp, and took out his water skin. He poured a few drops tenderly on her face, and lightly brushed the dirt, and blood off her still warm skin. He poured a little water on his fingers, and brushed them slowly through her short brown hair. Cleaning dirt, and rocks, and twigs from the tangles. Then Alex took each of her hands, and washed the blood, and caked on mud. It was a poor effort to make her look less dirty, but it was the best he could do. He didn’t think that the people of Kenash would approve of such actions, or any sort of funeral for a Rujaro. But Alex wasn’t from Kenash, and he felt that she deserved to be buried.
He didn’t have any tools, but he should have thought of that before he killed this woman. He moved handfuls of mud, as fast as he could. The bugs had a fest, while Alex kept digging bell after bell until he was satisfied with the little hole he had carved in the mud. Alex brushed Amanda’s hair one last time, and wrapped the tarp around her gently but firmly, and softly laying her in the hole. He pushed the mud back over her, covering her completely. It was an act of finality, that made Alex shiver. He covered the makeshift grave with dead brush, and thorns.
He gathered his gear, and checked the map, trying to figure out where he was. It was almost too dark to read. He wasn’t too far away from the manor, the property wasn’t too expansive in any one direction. He could probably make it back in a few bells in day light. And he didn’t want to leave the grave just yet. Amanda deserved some company, while she traveled with Dira. Alex gathered some tinder, and small sticks. He struck his the steel striker over the flint, showering some fairly dry tinder with bright orange sparks.
After a few more chimes of work, a soft glow burned inside the nest of tinder. Alex added smaller sticks, as the fire slowly burned, until he had a small stable fire that washed the little area around the grave with a pale orange. It was peaceful, and serene as the pall of night settled on the marsh. The songs of animals that were unknown, and numerous sang a dirge for Amanda.
Why had I survived Alex thought, looking over the grave as the moon began to poke its head over the tree line. He had remembered the feeling that had taken over his body. Nothing he had ever experienced came close to naming that force. Was that his will to live? Was survival all that mattered to him? He stoked the fire, and sat quietly. The eyes of Amanda haunted Alex, but he knew he deserved it. The eyes were his punishment for the terrible sin he had committed with his bear hands. This was how she would live now. Her life had paid for Alex’s continued existence, and those eyes would always be there, staring. Stealing every moment of happiness that she was owed. And he accepted that.
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Alexander Hamish Moore - Kenashian Strider
- Posts: 60
- Words: 55185
- Joined roleplay: June 27th, 2014, 7:06 am
- Race: Human
- Character sheet
- Storyteller secrets
Property Lines
by Alexander Hamish Moore on July 26th, 2014, 8:57 am
The melody of the dirge shifted, and morphed through the night as the star animals drifted to and from the center stage. Alex sat entranced by the flickering orange light emanating from the fire he lovingly tended. His only movement was to add more wood to the tiny flame. The fire was all that he cared about, it was to keep Amanda’s soul warm until Dira could claim it. It was a small start to the pool of debt that he owed. A debt that would only be repaid on the day he died. Until then, he could this for her. He didn’t notice as the deep cloak of night was slowly lifted as a pale blue permeated the swamp.
Alex wasn’t sure if he slept, but when the meager supply of wood he had gathered was gone, and the fire had slowly gone dark he knew he didn’t feel rested. The swamp was chilly as a thick fog rolled in off the sea. Alex was cold, and damp. His arms had begun to sting. The wounds he had fairly received were letting themselves be know to Alex. He took out his water skin, and pour the clean water over his arms. Washing the dirt of the quagmire out of the long, thin, nail marks. He would have to finish this job as soon as he could, he was running low on supplies, and he no longer had his supplies.
He gathered his gear, and took out the map. He marked an ‘X’ over the area he figured he was at. Varya would probably want to know that the Rujaro were operating in this area. Alex wondered what would have happened had they not ventured this deep into plantation land. Amanda might be alive. He folded the map back into the tube and continued navigating the boggy land around the Sitai plantation. He at his rations as the heat forced the bugs back into hiding. He left a half of the meal for Amanda, and continued, marking several fence breakages, and downed trees. He spotted a large lizard looking animal bathing itself in the sun. It looked rather mean, but it didn’t seem interested in eating Alex, so he marked its location, and continued on.
The bugs had just started to come out as Alex finished the walking the 16 miles around the planation. It had taken him the better part of two days before he made his way back to the manor house proper, and another bell before he found Varya discussing the days orders with the mercenaries who had returned from various duties. She addressed each one quickly, while absorbing the information that would need to be relayed to her higher ups for immediate action. Alex pushed his way to the front of the group, still dressed for the trail, and still smelling like the swamp.
“Alex, did you get lost? No matter, give me the map, and compass.” she held her hand out, and quickly took the items back. She set the map out flat on a nearby crate, and examined Alex’s crude markings.
She hummed slight to herself, and quickly walked towards the manor, leaving Alex to his own devices, and a plate of warm Kenashian food, which Alex eagerly split with the one he had left in the swamp.
Alex wasn’t sure if he slept, but when the meager supply of wood he had gathered was gone, and the fire had slowly gone dark he knew he didn’t feel rested. The swamp was chilly as a thick fog rolled in off the sea. Alex was cold, and damp. His arms had begun to sting. The wounds he had fairly received were letting themselves be know to Alex. He took out his water skin, and pour the clean water over his arms. Washing the dirt of the quagmire out of the long, thin, nail marks. He would have to finish this job as soon as he could, he was running low on supplies, and he no longer had his supplies.
He gathered his gear, and took out the map. He marked an ‘X’ over the area he figured he was at. Varya would probably want to know that the Rujaro were operating in this area. Alex wondered what would have happened had they not ventured this deep into plantation land. Amanda might be alive. He folded the map back into the tube and continued navigating the boggy land around the Sitai plantation. He at his rations as the heat forced the bugs back into hiding. He left a half of the meal for Amanda, and continued, marking several fence breakages, and downed trees. He spotted a large lizard looking animal bathing itself in the sun. It looked rather mean, but it didn’t seem interested in eating Alex, so he marked its location, and continued on.
The bugs had just started to come out as Alex finished the walking the 16 miles around the planation. It had taken him the better part of two days before he made his way back to the manor house proper, and another bell before he found Varya discussing the days orders with the mercenaries who had returned from various duties. She addressed each one quickly, while absorbing the information that would need to be relayed to her higher ups for immediate action. Alex pushed his way to the front of the group, still dressed for the trail, and still smelling like the swamp.
“Alex, did you get lost? No matter, give me the map, and compass.” she held her hand out, and quickly took the items back. She set the map out flat on a nearby crate, and examined Alex’s crude markings.
She hummed slight to herself, and quickly walked towards the manor, leaving Alex to his own devices, and a plate of warm Kenashian food, which Alex eagerly split with the one he had left in the swamp.
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Alexander Hamish Moore - Kenashian Strider
- Posts: 60
- Words: 55185
- Joined roleplay: June 27th, 2014, 7:06 am
- Race: Human
- Character sheet
- Storyteller secrets
Property Lines
by Vice on August 11th, 2014, 3:03 am
Alexander Hamish :
Skills
Lores
- +1 Socialization
- +3 Observation
- +1 Unarmed Combat
- +1 Land Navigation
- +2 Wilderness Survival
- +1 Grooming
- +1 Digging
Lores
- Kenash: Abundance of Food
- Bloodflower: Spacious
- Excitement for a Job
- Unarmed Combat: Stranglehold.
- Taking a Life
- Preserving the Dignity of the Dead
- Digginv a Grave
- Survivor's Guilt
Consequences I :
Chimes passed and though Alexander Hamish would not note it, sunk into the depths of slumber as he was, an ethereal wisp would rise from the earth. It did not strike now, nor did it speak, but it glowered at the sleeping man, furious.
He killed me! I... HE KILLED ME!
The thought rampaged the woman's soul, and if Alexander were awake, he would see the change. Ethereal, enraged, distraught, Amanda's face had adopted a sullen, pale look, her eyes heavy with dark bags. Around her neck were swollen punctures oozing with illusory blood from the stranglehold Alexander left upon the body.
I will have my revenge... But not now. Sleep, murderer... Sleep...
The phantasm floated away from the sleeping man, and would not linger once he awoke.
"Someday..."
He killed me! I... HE KILLED ME!
The thought rampaged the woman's soul, and if Alexander were awake, he would see the change. Ethereal, enraged, distraught, Amanda's face had adopted a sullen, pale look, her eyes heavy with dark bags. Around her neck were swollen punctures oozing with illusory blood from the stranglehold Alexander left upon the body.
I will have my revenge... But not now. Sleep, murderer... Sleep...
The phantasm floated away from the sleeping man, and would not linger once he awoke.
"Someday..."
Consequences II :
Injury: Deep Scratches. 2 weeks recovery without treatment, with certain scarring. Infection possible.
A level 1 Healer can heal this immediately. An L1 Medic can reduce the recovery time to a week and nullify the chance of infection. Scarring will not occur if treated.
Nightmares: Two weeks. Insomnia for two, as well. Lessened combat effectiveness: sluggishness.
A level 1 Healer can heal this immediately. An L1 Medic can reduce the recovery time to a week and nullify the chance of infection. Scarring will not occur if treated.
Nightmares: Two weeks. Insomnia for two, as well. Lessened combat effectiveness: sluggishness.
If you have questions, comments, or concerns, please send me a PM, and we'll discuss my reasoning behind why the grade given was received. Please make sure to edit any posts in the grading queue to 'graded' and update your CS as soon as possible. Enjoy! ^.^
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