Cold Winds (Open)

by **Sigmar** on March 27th, 2012, 10:42 pm

Date:28th of Spring

Mere days after the storm had subsided, great as it was. The damage was terrible to the home of the Inartans. In these moments a dark solitary figure, dressed as one would expect of an Inartan Chiet moved up the lonely path to his home's gates. The sheer nature of the region he called home had no effect on Sigmar, he like most of his people did not fear the mountainous region. They embraced it.

His soft leather boots whispered as he picked up pace, his long hair. Black as a ravens feathers with a red streak across the forehead whipped out behind him in the cold mountain winds, the winds shrieked across his flesh and the stone around him as he moved, finally he reached the gate. His foot falls silent as he entered, the scent of ice and tea leaves reaching his nose, the scent of mountains and the once Endal gate keeper. His hand reached out, catching the glass handle of the chain as he pondered the fate of his people.

The Djed storm had torn through his people's ancestral home. Grounding their high flying hunters, kings among men. The Endals had always appeared to Sigmar to be living legends, avatars of the might of his people. In the days following the storm a shift in the winds of fate had meant the caste system became irrelevant, everyone worked to one end. Survival and repair, their city, their homes was in jeopardy and everyone, even Sigmar, assisted in any way they could. He had spent two days clearing rubble before he noted that they needed food, or at least his companions did and so he had left the city. Not his brightest idea, he was under equipped having lost his bow to the storm and so his basic gear had to suffice, but it did not. He was returning empty handed and shamed.

In the moments as he awaited the gate keeper he pondered his lot in life, he was jealous of every Endal no matter how weak they may be in comparison to the others. That was his place, the place he desired. To be an Endal, king of the mountain winds. Friend of the great ones, the wind eagles. He desired command and he hoped one day perhaps his strong will would lead him to be chosen as a rider, an Endal.

Long had Sigmar been alone, a Chiet with no family, not knowing his mother or father or even foster parents. Raised amongst the many like him he had found few he trusted. Those had passed from life, victims of the Djed storm. Alara with her flame red hair like many of his kin, but none had her fire or beauty, he had loved her and she had never even noticed him, Thoral with his grim determination and zealous worship of his dearest sister Alara. Torould the once pierced, a veteran of travel. A man of dark hair and fair skin, a strong warrior who never spoke of his origin but had been friend to Sigmar. It was Alara though who haunted his dreams, her ethereal beauty accentuated by his sleep deprived, grief wrought mind. She had been his guiding light, the goal beyond being an Endal, the one who encouraged him to fight for his desires but who had never looked at him twice to his knowledge, who treated him like a boy to be protected, she whom he had loved fiercely...

by **Apola** on March 29th, 2012, 9:47 pm

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A cloaked figure stood in the shadows of a large buliding. The wind whispered around the edges of the cloak that danced around the person's legs. The hood of the cloak shadowed the face. Behind that cloaked shadow a beautiful red haired woman who watched this man curiously. She believed he was Inarta, but she wasn't sure. A horse whinnied in the stables and the woman who looked like a man to anyone who just glanced smiled. He wasn't ugly and was vey strong looking. Maybe even handsom. But, she wanted to stay looking like a male to move around the city without being noticed, as a woman would. She was stronger than most women and would nto be classified as a helpless woman in need. Yet, somehow, she was intruged by this man. This was not the way to be invisable in a city. Why couldn't she just be invisable??

by **Sigmar** on March 29th, 2012, 10:44 pm

Sigmar felt an odd sense as he entered his ancestral home, emerging once more into the cold mountain light, he felt like he was being watched. Like somebody stood over him, unseen and watching him. He slipped through the city to the stables where he had left some of his belongings, slipping behind the structure. He knelt and dug up all of his belongings.

The djed storm had caused chaos in the city and he had decided in the dark time that to avoid any trouble he would hide his belongings in their sack buried behind the stables. He glanced over his shoulder with a frown, expecting something ...

by **Apola** on March 30th, 2012, 9:46 pm

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The cloaked woman followed as he entered the gates, staying to the shadows the entire time. Even though she was following him, she still wanted to be invisable in the city. Hmmm... She watched the man dig up his belongings and thought it was smart. She looked up to the starless sky. Why did she have the urge to wallk over? This was not the way to to be invisable. She stepped out of the protecting shadows. There was no going back now...

by **Sigmar** on March 30th, 2012, 10:10 pm

Sigmar heard the woman before he saw her, he whirled on his heel, pushing his bag aside with the heel of his boot, both fists raised before he realized it was an Inartan female. He paused and relaxed his posture, still ready to defend himself, he spoke in a deceptively calm and cool tone
"Hello my lady, what can I do for you?" then he frowned and continued "Sneaking up on a man at a time like this is not ... wise."

His body language would of given away how nervous he was in those moments to anyone perceptive enough. His entire body was tensed, his fists clenched. He did not believe that one of his people, his kin would do anything at this time but life was hard in the mountains let alone before the Djed storm. He stepped back from her, his eyes locked on to her.

by **Apola** on March 30th, 2012, 10:48 pm

"so much for looking like a man. Oh well." She smiled and pulled her hood back. Her long hair fell down to her shoulders and framed her ivory face in waves of crimson. Her green eyes sparkled in the troch light. "and i am not a lady. I am a woman, but I am not fragile. I could kill you right here right now." She pulled out her bow and said "Pick a target, any target." She glanced an apple tree that was at least 50 ft away. " maybe like an apple on that tree." she nodded to it.

by **Sigmar** on March 30th, 2012, 11:56 pm

Sigmar watched her warily, she seemed to have taken his mannerisms the wrong way and had drawn her weapon which lead him to assume a defensive stance as he spoke, keeping his tone level
"you misunderstand my greeting, I did not mean to suggest you were any less capable than a man. Without knowing your name there is little I can call you by." then he leaned back against the wall, trying to look relaxed
"How about we start with names then? I am Sigmar."

He felt like he had met his match perhaps, a woman of equal willpower to him. He respected her already as much as a stranger could respect another stranger and he considered perhaps trying to get to know her, she may prove an interesting friend and companion. His thoughts wandered for a few moments as he thought of those he lost to the storm and his face took on a solemn expression, withdrawn and hard as he awaited her answer.

by **Apola** on March 31st, 2012, 12:38 am

"perhaps when you give me a target i shall tell you my name." She smiled. She had gone through a lot and rarely smiled since she ran away from her abusive stepfather. But he didn't know that. She was right, he was handsom. His beard was a beautiful rust color. She couldn't help be smile at his dancing eyes. "Come on give me a target. I haven't had a challenge for a while."

by **Sigmar** on March 31st, 2012, 9:49 am

Sigmar stroked his beard as he thought, an odd habit he had picked up over his short life. He looked up and then smirked
"Let us see my lady if you can hit this" he said softly as he picked up a small wooden chunk, about three inches by three inches that had come from somewhere, he had no idea of it's origin.

He watched her for a moment then spoke again
"On three I will throw the piece into the air, if you hit it then I applaud you, if you do not then my opinion of you will not have changed so either way you win I think" then he smiled a genuine smile before counting to three and hurling the wood into the air, giving it a great deal of back spin so it became unpredictable.

by **Apola** on March 31st, 2012, 12:13 pm

Apola smiled and nodded. She didn't watch the piece before he said two, she watched his body movement. She learned to read a person to know what they would do from trying to figure out when her erratic step father would snap. "Three" She heard him say and she let the arrow fly. It flew true and buried itself into the piece of wood. She did a front flip, landed on her feet and bowed. "Apola. My name is Apola."
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