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Bound for Newdale

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Bound for Newdale Empty Bound for Newdale

Post by Isla Paledragon Thu Aug 19, 2021 3:07 pm

Bound for Newdale 62193e04eb8e44e3142a50c27173c762

Day 1

“It is going to fall you know, that is not very stable”

“Thank you miss but it is not going to fall over. Please just let us handle this”

“It is totally going to fall.” Though she did not speak in a condescending or mocking tone, the blunt yet rhythmic nature she spoke made what followed all the more an embarrassing sting. The pair stood speaking just a few metres away from one of the piles of construction supplies, wooden logs that were being stacked in preparation for their journey north, not yet on carts though no less mobile. A point proven when only a few seconds after she went silent the sound of rope snapping struck the air and the bottom logs began to roll, the pyramid like stack pushing out further and further, workers running for safety before they eventually rumbled to a halt, each log now lying in a row on the floor with the bonds that kept them in place split.

Various curses and calls for aid echoed through the air of the yard just outside of Lyndon Port, the men within range all sprinting to try and asses the situation before they could begin restocking. A feat likely far easier if attempted earlier in the day or the following day, as at that moment they were all being bombarded by the rain from above which made all the ground slicking with mud. Isla herself was  only shielded by a simple green hood, the pieces of assorted armour that she wore were acting like waterfalls for the rolling droplets but her spirits were hardly dampened. I fact a darkish smile leapt onto her face as she raised her hands to form a tunnel through which she called to the workers. “I think it has fallen, that’s not very good.”

The pale haired girl let out a sigh as she squinted and looked up, enjoying the gentle feel of the droplets on her skin. At least she did until she realised the hardy you’re meant to close your eyes, the thud of a droplet hitting her in the left which prompted a recoil as if she had just been punched. “Fuck” She spat out with her face direct at the ground, a leather-bound glove trying to wipe her eye for a moment before realising it was pointless given all she had been attacked by was water. “Okay, i deserved that.”

When Isla had heard news of the church they were constructing up in Newdale she would have to lie if she said she had any strong opinions about it. It was a church after all, some people liked them and some didn’t. She didn’t feel any strong passion for the church but she appreciated that many would appreciate a safe place to conduct their worship. So when she arrived in Lyndon she had quickly signed on to help one of the caravans, not to guard it the whole way but at least a portion of the way. She could se the coin after all and this was an excuse to get a free lift further inland. Her personal gear was stuck inside where it was dry thankfully, inside a large tent that she had been sharing with other guards until the caravan was ready to begin it’s journey. Her weapon, the overly large great sword she had become rather known for wielding unnecessarily, well that was being held in one hand as it rested across her shoulder, forming a silhouette that would likely seem unrealistic if not for the fact her comrades for this job had draconic wings and all sorts of features that to anyone known from Vyldermire would be irregular. Growing up in Rivengate meant that she had the weirdest taste of several worlds, she had the fantastical awareness of those local to the world but the appreciation for how diverse their world was from all the otherworlders. She didn’t have magic though or anything like that, she was just pretty damn strong.

As she looked over at the workers trying to move the logs and reinstate some order to the way they were being kept she realised she was needed even if they would not admit it. So she swung the sword down from her shoulders, it’s blade embedding itself in the ground almost effortlessly as she cracked her knuckles and rolled her neck. “Oi, man with the long hair, other end.” She called out, pointing without much reservation at the strongest looking of those nearby and began walking towards the logs. Approaching the first of those that was not meant to be on the floor. He joined her soon enough, approaching it’s other end as they squatted in unison. “Okay, when we lift, you all put blocks back so they do not roll, if they roll i will hit one if not two of you.”

With only an initial stagger as they began to lift, she managed to get the log off the ground with far more ease and height than the others had managed moment’s earlier, supported by her partner on the other side they managed to get it in place back on the stack seconds after the others secured the bottom row from moving around further. Over the course of the next twenty or so minutes they slowly moved each back into position, forming a new pile though this one was not only better laid out but also secured in place by a spell cast by one of the other guards, a fact that drew many grumbles from the workers who could have used such magic earlier in the day.

When Isla walked away from the rescued logs, now covered by a sheet to try and avoid too much rainfall, she picked up her sword and returned it to her shoulder. It’s pristine bade glinting in the light of the lanterns as the rain poured down either side of it’s edge. The walk towards her tent was almost interrupted by the worker from earlier, looking to get a word in about something though whether it was a thank you or otherwise she didn’t to wait to find out. “You are welcome, your job makes for good pass time.”

Word Count; 1037
Total combined word count= 1037
made bycapt. meows
Isla Paledragon
Isla Paledragon

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VylderGold : 4854
Posts : 41
Join date : 2021-08-04

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Bound for Newdale Empty Re: Bound for Newdale

Post by Isla Paledragon Sat Aug 21, 2021 7:49 pm

Bound for Newdale 36ad55eaba0deae562a415949c28feb1

Day 3

The crackle of the fire was amongst the only sounds to be heard that night, the embers being picked up on gentle strokes of the wind as they flew up into the air. The night sky a pitch black canvas with few stars being visible due to the clouds overhead and the gentle mist that surrounded the campsite. The light from the fire was not enough to illuminate the ground beyond their tents, nor were the other campfires much help since they had long since burned down to only the glowing remains, more ash than flame. The fire for the forward camp on the caravan was all that remained, and the only one it illuminated was the young women who had taken it upon herself to keep watch for that stretch.

With the air surprisingly warm and humid, and there being no sign of any foes so far on the journey, she felt it unnecessary to still wear the plates of armour she had done during the day. For now she was dressed down to what at a glance would seem more fitting for a gladiator than anyone else. A shirt made from rags and cloth she had wrapped around herself, covering herself as much as n eede but light and loose enough to be comfortable. She wore trousers that at a glance were durable and dull enough to pass for any set of adventuring leggings but they upon further inspection far too perfectly made to be from anywhere outside of the ‘advanced’ factories of Rivengate. The most visibly modern part of her attire however was the heavy leather boots she wore, the name along their sole bearing the branding of it’s designer but their construction good enough to be genuinely useful on her many adventures, even if they were starting to show the wear and tear. Her silver hair was tied up in a rough and imperfect bun, one that seemed to protrude some of the hair up in spikes as the fringe covered a whole half of her face.

She figured that they must be parallel with the dionalar plains by now, the water there likely providing all the moisture that hung in the air like paused rain, but they did not dare stray from the road on this journey. The caravan was destined for Otenshire and it was there she would part ways, hoping they would do so by the following night. She was curious how this church’s construction would go but she did not hold any personal stakes in it, therefore she saw no need to carry on further than needed, if they were to pay her for an escort only a third of the way then so be it.

While Isla sat there, her mind calm with only the thoughts of her environment and road ahead, she ran the flat of her right palm along the side of the great blade that rested beside her. It was nothing wildly fantastical in nature yet it wash hers and that made it special enough to not be replaced in all the years she had owned it. Whether it was experience, pure reflex or the bond she bore with the blade was unclear, but the second she heard that twig snap she held it in her hands in under a second. Stood with her feet spaced shoulder width apart an both hands on the grip as she headed her grip in the direction of the noise, likely an animal but she was not paid to make assumptions. She was paid to keep the resources safe, and safe was where sh would keep them.

The warm glow of the fire likely left her only a silhouette to the ones that approached, but it’s golden radiance revealed the outline and eventually details of the one to her front. Hulking in size, their form a shredded man of muscle and hair. They must have been nearing seven foot in size, their inhuman feet digging in deep as if ready to pounce. Five claws were on each hand as the hunched lower, arms spread out  in preparation for a most terrifying embrace and the bestial maw that leaked saliva from it’s teeth was only highlighted by the golden reflection of it’s eyes. The werewolf was one of many such forms that emerged from the mists, mercenaries or radical most likely, here for one purpose. Her lips curled into a smile, raising her eyebrows in an almost taunting sign of acknowledgement towards her foe just moments before the shout left her lips. “Ambush”

What followed was nothing short of a frenzy, a mad assault as eldritch and human brigands surrounded the various campsites and the mostly sleeping guards scrambled to bear arms in time for self defence. The only exception to that description being the white wulver, the ashen haired warrior who was already bringing down her blade in a huge arc, her body long since kicked off from the ground in a lunge towards her far larger and intimidating foe. The battle between them was fast and ferocious, her blade missing it’s target by inches with ever swing as it’s own claws and teeth tried to land on her unarmored flesh. The two exchanged snarls and cries of exertion, Isla close to decapitating or disemboweling the wolf countless times as it almost opened her jugular on countless other occasions.

With a firm backhand swipe the eldritch sent her sprawling to the floor, her sword tip down in the mud as she lay face down, blood running from her brow in a slight cut while her elbows and knees bore the brunt of the blunt damage from the slide. As it ran towards he it would otherwise seem to be she was in mortal peril, but the playfully excited grin on her face showed that this was simply the taste of adventure she had been waiting for since arriving on the mainland. The swordsmen kicked up to her feet and pulled the blade from the ground, first and moisture falling from it’s edge as she redid it, the vastly oversized blade level with the ground as if ready to cut tall grass rather than the now pouncing target she stared down. “Finally, i feared you were not to land a single hit for a moment.”

Whether they heard the words that were muttered under her breath were unclear, but what was clear was her footwork. With a darting slide to her right it became clear she was not holding out her blade for a horizontal slash, but a vertical removal. Her speed was just enough to outmanoeuvre the wolf as her sword cut down in perfect time to bite into its flesh, through skin and bone it carried on till like an executioner it struck the floor and the foe was now in two pieces. But she had no intention to kill these enemies unless necessary, after all this was a religious conflict and she had no stakes in it. Instead it was the left paw that struck the floor, rolling along as it’s owner wailed in pain clutching at it’s now incomplete arm.

When the rest of the enemies were killed or scared off it was not long before first light, and the caravan had no intention of staying in the same place, so they carried on to Otenshire. Isla stayed with them until then, sleeping, eating and drinking in a tavern there as she said farewell to the temporary brothers in arms she had met. But while their destination was Newdale she found herself drawn due west, to Hoptus Forest

Word Count; 1269
Total combined word count= 2306
made bycapt. meows
Isla Paledragon
Isla Paledragon

Rank : Initiate
VylderGold : 4854
Posts : 41
Join date : 2021-08-04

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