.
The sun had barely shattered the horizon, it's warmth had just begun to wage war on the crisp morning air, the medley of red, yellow and oranges had only scrapped across each corner of the clear winter sky, bar a few furrowed clouds that stood out like unwelcome guests but Brayden had already found himself snatch from a blissful dream but the incessant poking and nudging of someone ticks away from getting punched in the face. "What the fu-" He began to whisper with deadly intent but he found himself quickly interrupted.
"Note for you Ser" He heard, spoken from a small boy by the sound of it before he had the scraping of running feet as the blurry figure quickly disappeared from sight. In his hand he clutched a rough bit of dirty parchment that had been handed to him as soon as he roused reluctantly from his deep, peaceful sleep, with an almost illegible scrawl written in dark black ink reading -
Brayden,
I'm off patrolling and you're not ready to take to part in one so far from the Outpost. You're not walking everywhere so drag your sorry arse to the Menagerie as soon as the lad delivering this message wakes up, I'll know if you don't. There are a couple horses at the end of the stables that we use for training, there a skittish lot because they know the squires we stick on them know more about eating them then riding them. Don't bother wearing amour, it'll just make the fall harder.
Rykker
After sometime that was spent trying to read the note with his mouth visibly moving as he did so, both from his inexperience and the awful quality of the handwriting he finally managed to understand his instructions for the morning, though Brayden had a snaking suspicion he would find more notes delivered to him through the day.
lWith some food in his stomach and clothes covering his decency, Brayden made his way over to the stables. It was a lovely day, the crisp winter air was remarkably refreshing, with each breath Brayden could feel his head clearing and his body finally waking up. The freshly laid snow glistening in the rising sun, turning from a luminous orange slowing to a unblemished white with only a few footprints to give any indication that anyone had been here before him.
Brayden felt his eyes water slightly as he stepped away from the fresh, clean air of the morning into the warm, stuffy environment that filled the noisy stable, unable to ignore the overwhelming smell of shit flooding his nostrils at that very moment. It reminded him far too much of Sunberth. He wandered through the stables from stall to stall with the very walk of someone who knew he didn;t belong in such a place, almost flinching each time a horse whinnied or poked its head out looking for attention. "Bloody animals..." He muttered as he actually found himself missing the strange order of Syliras.
He found the horses like the note said at the end of the stable and could only think one thing. By the gods they were big. They weren't actually particularly large but before he had even picked one and stepped in the stall with it he could feel it towering over him like one of the Akalak bouncer back at Tall Johnny's. There was one problem his patron had made, it was probably something so small that Rykker had forgotten but it was a glaring issue to Brayden.
He didn't know how to even put a saddle on a horse.
Or which way round it went..
82nd of Winter - The 6th Bell - The Garrison
The sun had barely shattered the horizon, it's warmth had just begun to wage war on the crisp morning air, the medley of red, yellow and oranges had only scrapped across each corner of the clear winter sky, bar a few furrowed clouds that stood out like unwelcome guests but Brayden had already found himself snatch from a blissful dream but the incessant poking and nudging of someone ticks away from getting punched in the face. "What the fu-" He began to whisper with deadly intent but he found himself quickly interrupted.
"Note for you Ser" He heard, spoken from a small boy by the sound of it before he had the scraping of running feet as the blurry figure quickly disappeared from sight. In his hand he clutched a rough bit of dirty parchment that had been handed to him as soon as he roused reluctantly from his deep, peaceful sleep, with an almost illegible scrawl written in dark black ink reading -
Brayden,
I'm off patrolling and you're not ready to take to part in one so far from the Outpost. You're not walking everywhere so drag your sorry arse to the Menagerie as soon as the lad delivering this message wakes up, I'll know if you don't. There are a couple horses at the end of the stables that we use for training, there a skittish lot because they know the squires we stick on them know more about eating them then riding them. Don't bother wearing amour, it'll just make the fall harder.
Rykker
After sometime that was spent trying to read the note with his mouth visibly moving as he did so, both from his inexperience and the awful quality of the handwriting he finally managed to understand his instructions for the morning, though Brayden had a snaking suspicion he would find more notes delivered to him through the day.
lWith some food in his stomach and clothes covering his decency, Brayden made his way over to the stables. It was a lovely day, the crisp winter air was remarkably refreshing, with each breath Brayden could feel his head clearing and his body finally waking up. The freshly laid snow glistening in the rising sun, turning from a luminous orange slowing to a unblemished white with only a few footprints to give any indication that anyone had been here before him.
Brayden felt his eyes water slightly as he stepped away from the fresh, clean air of the morning into the warm, stuffy environment that filled the noisy stable, unable to ignore the overwhelming smell of shit flooding his nostrils at that very moment. It reminded him far too much of Sunberth. He wandered through the stables from stall to stall with the very walk of someone who knew he didn;t belong in such a place, almost flinching each time a horse whinnied or poked its head out looking for attention. "Bloody animals..." He muttered as he actually found himself missing the strange order of Syliras.
He found the horses like the note said at the end of the stable and could only think one thing. By the gods they were big. They weren't actually particularly large but before he had even picked one and stepped in the stall with it he could feel it towering over him like one of the Akalak bouncer back at Tall Johnny's. There was one problem his patron had made, it was probably something so small that Rykker had forgotten but it was a glaring issue to Brayden.
He didn't know how to even put a saddle on a horse.
Or which way round it went.
