28-05-2015, 06:08 AM
The sky was high and as blue as can be on a summer afternoon, and the steady wind brought life to the sails of the merchant ship coursing through the vast expanse of water that stretched as far as the eyes can see. On days like this, the sailors liked to sing their songs and the merchants liked to show off their wares on the deck, but this day, the sailors sang with less heart and the merchants were less eager to shout for their customers, even the captain, who was well known for his rosy cheeks and booming voice, stayed near the wheel, eyeing the two individuals that were, with no doubt, an eyesore.
One figure had a face that was as pale as the moon, with hair to match the sheen, and green eyes that seemed awfully hollow for someone of his age. And despite the warm weather he was dressed from head to toe in black drabs, with a red muffler that was definitely woven for days when the chills strike men across the continent. The man stayed in the shadows all the time, and one of the men swore he heard the man positively groan when he had been pushed into the sunlight. The captain was not a man that believed much in the myths of old, but the man spooked his men, and the fact that the man made no noise when he moved about the ship did nothing to help.
The other figure, for whom he had had a fond memory of, was a woman of sturdy build, if not slightly stooped in posture. Rumndumm, or Rumny, as she preferred to be called, had been on his ship a couple of years back, and she was cut from a similar fabric as he and the rest of his men were cut from. She had fit in with the crew perfectly, although she had the tendency to ‘mine’ something on the ship if left idle for too long. Now, that warm and cheer was nowhere to be found, and the captain did wonder whether it was the same person. Her face was set with such a grim expression so determined that not even the jesters in the highest courts could possibly think of a way to make her smile again.
Assassinated. Assassinated! The word kept resounding in Rumny’s head as she sat on the deck of the ship bound for the Mainland. The word was foreign to her and the reality behind the meaning of the word struck her too deeply that she did not realize that it had been nearly a whole month since she had been down a mine. Assassins had no place in Fogstone. For a place cast under a thick fog throughout the year, hardly anything was done in secrecy; even a lover’s quarrel was known to the public the day after. So when Rumny had received the summons, informing her that the newly appointed chieftain of Fogstone had been assassinated, her world was turned upside down. For the first time in Fogstone history, there was mistrust between the clans, and again for the first time the council of elders, a council that had been founded as a result of a joke under the influence of alcohol, would gather before the crowd to discuss the future of the town. She could only hope and pray, as she was sure the rest of her brethren was doing, that it wasn’t one of their own that had caused the death of their chief.
In contrast to the woman seated cross-legged across him, Seven was in a good mood. He would’ve talked to her, as he recalled seeing her from the town, but he was scared of her huge pickaxe that was just shy of being as tall as he was. As he reminisced about the people he had seen – but had not necessarily talked to – he felt a pang of guilt for not having left a message, or a note about his leaving the town. Zark must have been furious, he thought. But the thought had only come to him three days into the voyage across the sea, and by then, the town of Ravenna was but a memory. His excitement was caused by a simple letter, the content of which was enough to drive him to abandon his post as a junior guard and everything else. It was a letter from Thaloran, a man that had once saved him, and he himself had helped save his family a few years ago. He and his family were the only people he knew aside from one unfortunate healer that had truly accepted him. He wondered if Thaloran had built a new farmhouse, and whether his donkey was still cranky as ever. He felt he would very much like living with them again. This time, he would learn things. There were too much that he did not understand during his time in the Forbidden Lands, maybe the next time he would return, he’d know by then, how he is supposed to talk to people.
One figure had a face that was as pale as the moon, with hair to match the sheen, and green eyes that seemed awfully hollow for someone of his age. And despite the warm weather he was dressed from head to toe in black drabs, with a red muffler that was definitely woven for days when the chills strike men across the continent. The man stayed in the shadows all the time, and one of the men swore he heard the man positively groan when he had been pushed into the sunlight. The captain was not a man that believed much in the myths of old, but the man spooked his men, and the fact that the man made no noise when he moved about the ship did nothing to help.
The other figure, for whom he had had a fond memory of, was a woman of sturdy build, if not slightly stooped in posture. Rumndumm, or Rumny, as she preferred to be called, had been on his ship a couple of years back, and she was cut from a similar fabric as he and the rest of his men were cut from. She had fit in with the crew perfectly, although she had the tendency to ‘mine’ something on the ship if left idle for too long. Now, that warm and cheer was nowhere to be found, and the captain did wonder whether it was the same person. Her face was set with such a grim expression so determined that not even the jesters in the highest courts could possibly think of a way to make her smile again.
-=oOo=-
Rumny's Story: Assassinated. Assassinated! The word kept resounding in Rumny’s head as she sat on the deck of the ship bound for the Mainland. The word was foreign to her and the reality behind the meaning of the word struck her too deeply that she did not realize that it had been nearly a whole month since she had been down a mine. Assassins had no place in Fogstone. For a place cast under a thick fog throughout the year, hardly anything was done in secrecy; even a lover’s quarrel was known to the public the day after. So when Rumny had received the summons, informing her that the newly appointed chieftain of Fogstone had been assassinated, her world was turned upside down. For the first time in Fogstone history, there was mistrust between the clans, and again for the first time the council of elders, a council that had been founded as a result of a joke under the influence of alcohol, would gather before the crowd to discuss the future of the town. She could only hope and pray, as she was sure the rest of her brethren was doing, that it wasn’t one of their own that had caused the death of their chief.
-=oOo=-
Seven's Story:In contrast to the woman seated cross-legged across him, Seven was in a good mood. He would’ve talked to her, as he recalled seeing her from the town, but he was scared of her huge pickaxe that was just shy of being as tall as he was. As he reminisced about the people he had seen – but had not necessarily talked to – he felt a pang of guilt for not having left a message, or a note about his leaving the town. Zark must have been furious, he thought. But the thought had only come to him three days into the voyage across the sea, and by then, the town of Ravenna was but a memory. His excitement was caused by a simple letter, the content of which was enough to drive him to abandon his post as a junior guard and everything else. It was a letter from Thaloran, a man that had once saved him, and he himself had helped save his family a few years ago. He and his family were the only people he knew aside from one unfortunate healer that had truly accepted him. He wondered if Thaloran had built a new farmhouse, and whether his donkey was still cranky as ever. He felt he would very much like living with them again. This time, he would learn things. There were too much that he did not understand during his time in the Forbidden Lands, maybe the next time he would return, he’d know by then, how he is supposed to talk to people.