Uriel
Living EN World Judge
(Character coming Wed afternoon)
Six Months Ago
Vorgune wailed loudly, the sound echoing throughout the Forest.
Nearby, lying in the lee of a huge Elm tee, his Mate lay dead upon the soft loam. Eryssk looked every bit the creature she was, slim doe-like limbs, soft downy skin and those beautiful black horns...
Vorgune shed tears unnumbered down his grey-brown cheeks, his Antlers knocking leaves from the tree as he wept uncontrolably.
'How Eryssk die, what Death need with my Eryssk?'
The Feral had happened upon his Mate, coming home to their cave from gathering horn and bits of the strong shiny metal that he used in his Weapons-Craft. Dead were Eryssk as well as Tokru, her younger brother. No sign of their Killer, or indeed, their manner of Death did Vorgune see...
Gathering up his things and laying Eryssk and Tokru under a stone cairn that he laboured over all night, the Feral made his way South to the lands of the Mixing, where all amnner of Folk lived amongst each other. This Forest held nothing but Pain for him now.
Today
Vorgune looked up from his work. The *schim* of his chisel stopped, the blade he was etching forgotten. A Horn had sounded, the Village Elders calling a Moot. Vorgune stood, brushing off the bits of metal filings and ash from his Forge.
Picking up the Wide-Tooth that served as both his Weapon and walking staff, Vorgune hastened to see what the Elders were summoning the Folk for...
Six Months Ago
Vorgune wailed loudly, the sound echoing throughout the Forest.
Nearby, lying in the lee of a huge Elm tee, his Mate lay dead upon the soft loam. Eryssk looked every bit the creature she was, slim doe-like limbs, soft downy skin and those beautiful black horns...
Vorgune shed tears unnumbered down his grey-brown cheeks, his Antlers knocking leaves from the tree as he wept uncontrolably.
'How Eryssk die, what Death need with my Eryssk?'
The Feral had happened upon his Mate, coming home to their cave from gathering horn and bits of the strong shiny metal that he used in his Weapons-Craft. Dead were Eryssk as well as Tokru, her younger brother. No sign of their Killer, or indeed, their manner of Death did Vorgune see...
Gathering up his things and laying Eryssk and Tokru under a stone cairn that he laboured over all night, the Feral made his way South to the lands of the Mixing, where all amnner of Folk lived amongst each other. This Forest held nothing but Pain for him now.
Today
Vorgune looked up from his work. The *schim* of his chisel stopped, the blade he was etching forgotten. A Horn had sounded, the Village Elders calling a Moot. Vorgune stood, brushing off the bits of metal filings and ash from his Forge.
Picking up the Wide-Tooth that served as both his Weapon and walking staff, Vorgune hastened to see what the Elders were summoning the Folk for...
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