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Memories and Portents Chapter#1: A Dark and Stormy Knight
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<blockquote data-quote="SecondTime" data-source="post: 3251914" data-attributes="member: 42381"><p>The wheels of the caravan and the feet of its constituent horses and peoples creak and groan to a halt almost simulaneously. </p><p></p><p>The sky has been slowly darkening all day, and the smell of rain has been thick in the air. Now it has finally begun to fall, accompanied by loud peals of thunder that seem to roll across the landscape. The sun is hidden behind massive stormclouds, and a cold wind blows from the north. As bolts of lightening begin to slam from cloud to ground and pieces of hail begin to strike the earth, the need for shelter becomes obvious. No member of the caravan company, refugee or no, has ever prayed for their arrival at a destination more than they currently are for New Cyre.</p><p></p><p>Ahead in the distance, visible about a mile of the trade road where it curves to the east, a large tower rises from the ground, its form illuminated by the occassional lightning bolt. It seems rocky and solid, and through climbing it in this weather would be folly, it might have some outcropping that would provide safety from the storm. The only alternative is to endure the weather.</p><p></p><p>The caravan master, Dondel Bresh, a short, squat, blonde man with pale skin but hard facial features consistent with his northern Brelish accent, appears along the side of the caravan, walking from the front wagon to the rear and back, gripping his curled horse lash in his right hand. His voice, loud so as to be heard by the company over the oncoming storm, carries the command one would expect from the master of a House Orien caravan, rather than the leader of the cheapest group of wagons that could be found in Starilaskur...</p><p></p><p>"Listen to me, passengers and employees alike!!! Neither you or my wagons can last in this storm...we need shelter! I need some tough people to scout that tower and warn of any brigands! It is considered ill luck to seek shelter in the local ruins, but we have no choice. Do we have any volunteers!?"</p><p></p><p><em>OOC: Time to introduce yourselves in game.</em></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p><em>OOC Thread:</em></p><p><em><a href="http://www.enworld.org/showthread.php?t=183129" target="_blank">http://www.enworld.org/showthread.php?t=183129</a></em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>Character Stat Thread:</em></p><p><em><a href="http://www.enworld.org/showthread.php?t=183128" target="_blank">http://www.enworld.org/showthread.php?t=183128</a></em></p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="SecondTime, post: 3251914, member: 42381"] The wheels of the caravan and the feet of its constituent horses and peoples creak and groan to a halt almost simulaneously. The sky has been slowly darkening all day, and the smell of rain has been thick in the air. Now it has finally begun to fall, accompanied by loud peals of thunder that seem to roll across the landscape. The sun is hidden behind massive stormclouds, and a cold wind blows from the north. As bolts of lightening begin to slam from cloud to ground and pieces of hail begin to strike the earth, the need for shelter becomes obvious. No member of the caravan company, refugee or no, has ever prayed for their arrival at a destination more than they currently are for New Cyre. Ahead in the distance, visible about a mile of the trade road where it curves to the east, a large tower rises from the ground, its form illuminated by the occassional lightning bolt. It seems rocky and solid, and through climbing it in this weather would be folly, it might have some outcropping that would provide safety from the storm. The only alternative is to endure the weather. The caravan master, Dondel Bresh, a short, squat, blonde man with pale skin but hard facial features consistent with his northern Brelish accent, appears along the side of the caravan, walking from the front wagon to the rear and back, gripping his curled horse lash in his right hand. His voice, loud so as to be heard by the company over the oncoming storm, carries the command one would expect from the master of a House Orien caravan, rather than the leader of the cheapest group of wagons that could be found in Starilaskur... "Listen to me, passengers and employees alike!!! Neither you or my wagons can last in this storm...we need shelter! I need some tough people to scout that tower and warn of any brigands! It is considered ill luck to seek shelter in the local ruins, but we have no choice. Do we have any volunteers!?" [I]OOC: Time to introduce yourselves in game.[/I] [I]OOC Thread: [url]http://www.enworld.org/showthread.php?t=183129[/url] Character Stat Thread: [url]http://www.enworld.org/showthread.php?t=183128[/url][/I] [/QUOTE]
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Memories and Portents Chapter#1: A Dark and Stormy Knight
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