Early Afternoon
Half a days travel from Yahebah
Sand, Sorrow, and Surrender
A sun quenched beautiful land, rolling dunes of time painting a canvass that could only be called breathtaking. Such patterns of sand and stone, glistening in the sun’s gaze, could give you pause if you had eyes to see, and a heart to appreciate it. This was a land that a man might be proud to call home, one he could live and die for. On the outskirts of Yahebah two men were seeking shade, and a moments rest from their travels. Here near the sea, winter was not as you might picture it in other domains. While the thought of a snow was a joke only spoken by new travellers, ice this close to the coast was not unheard of. Kharadish could not remember the last time he had seen it, but he had a distant memory of the water's bane.
Standing in well polished, studded leather armor, one foot proudly atop a flat, square bolder; Kharadish re Lsar, gilded firstborn to the family Lsar, was polishing his family scimitar with a torn piece of fabric. The weapon seemed clean already, but it was not sparkling, and Kharadish would not be seen travelling with an imperfect blade.
With a steel nasal helm hiding some of his head, a brown beard and hazel eyes poked their way around the well kept metal, three javelins were harnessed to his back, along with a shield by his side. His companion, an older man, was dressed much the same in leather, a scimitar on his belt, and wearing a steel skullcap.
“One day you will wear out that sword,” said the older man in a common tongue.
“That is why you are here, old friend.” Karadish said in a more guttural language, the language of Arumenic, noticeably the y’s were pronounced more softly than common.
“Hmph, one day I will not be here, and then where will you be?” The older man replied, crossing his arms, removing his sword, and sitting down in the shade, a mild relief from the desert was given by a small collection of upstanding rocks.
Kharadish laughed and smiled, “Of all the men Dira watches over, you are too stubborn to die.” Answering this time in common, though it was a bad attempt at it, and the words seemed somewhat jumbled.
The older man, Rhkart re Dsern, removed his helmet, showing what could be described as a gentile face, thick brown hair and a badly kept beard. He was quite tall, but very lean, looking like he needed a good meal or two. Both men of course had several arms, Kharadish six and his friend the same, only the older man had one in a permanent sling. The most noticeable thing about the younger man was that his six arms were thick, he had a stocky build overall, with very thick shoulders and forearms.
All seemed peaceful, but then that is how it always starts, when you least expect it is when the world turns.
OOC Music :