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Elderscrye D
PostPosted: Wed Sep 23, 2015 8:47 pm    Post subject:

Please go on.

PostPosted: Tue Sep 22, 2015 3:52 pm    Post subject:

Batosai30 wrote:

Awesome stories FadedJeans.

 Thanks Happy

PostPosted: Tue Sep 22, 2015 2:48 pm    Post subject:

Awesome stories FadedJeans.

PostPosted: Tue Sep 22, 2015 8:32 am    Post subject: Story: "Not Away From Death, but Towards it"

Story: "Anything is Possible. Always."

Story: "Never Going to Happen"

14 JUN 2014

“Who’s your new friend?”, Gwyneth asked with a half-hearted smirk. Not long ago you’d have likely found her in the great room dressed in hand-me-down finery, surrounded by her confidants, hoop and needle in her hand and asking after the latest gossip from Wayrest with wonder in her eyes. Today she was on the side of a muddy road, clad in mail, attended by her patrol, right hand resting on the hilt of a flanged mace and her wonder traded for worry.

Bran pressed his palms together, lowered his eyes and let some magicka slip. It washed over the weary knights in a wave of cleansing comfort, soothing their frayed nerves and bruised flesh. Someone quietly praised the divines. 

“I forgot you were a healer now, Cousin”, she remarked. “My thanks.”

“We’ve all changed”, Bran confessed. He looked back towards Rees, who was leading his horse. “I found him in Gavaudon, near death, his kin slain by scamps. It didn’t seem right to just leave him there. I thought Pariah Abbey might take him, but they have their own troubles these days.”

“Trouble is the only thing that isn’t in short supply”, she agreed. She looked up the road towards the Hawking estate, and then back to Bran. “We lost one of the barns last week to bandits or the Midnight Union or some such. You can hardly tell them apart these days. Some of the cows took sick, Ansley had to put them down and burn them to save the herd. Most of our cousins are either attending Duke Nathaniel at Alcaire Castle or Sir Hughes over at Firebrand Keep. I hear there’s trouble down in the Village, but we don’t have a sword to spare for it. ” She cast her cousin a knowing glance. “…but I hear you’ve been busy.”

“I seem to have a knack for finding myself in the wrong places at the right times”, the knight admitted.

“King Casimir might disagree”, Gwyneth quipped.

“Well, about that…”, Bran began to explain when the ominous sound of a distant horn thundered on the horizon. The ground trembled slightly beneath their feet and the wind carried the frightful noise of daedric chains.

“I can’t abandon my post”, his cousin explained, her men readying themselves for danger.

Bran sighed.

“Wrong place”, he observed with a wan smile. “Right time”

“Stendarr’s Mercy upon you”, she offered. “On me!”, she commanded her patrol. “Back to the crossroad! Nothing makes it to the estate.”

Bran turned to Rees who handed him the reins, his youthful brow furrowed with single-minded purpose. 

“They will need our help at the Dolmen”, was all he offered by way of explanation, mounting the horse and then offering the boy a hand up. 

Bran leaned forward, gave the horse a squeeze with his legs and cantered not away from death, but towards it.

No FB Yes FB Hand (smaller) Lap 40.063em Desk 64.063em Wall 90.063em