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In which Chev and Veizor accompany a hunting party.
(This is a thread from Mizahar's fantasy role playing forum. Why don't you register today? This message is not shown when you are logged in. Come roleplay with us, it's fun!)by Chev on May 28th, 2013, 2:03 am
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by Veizor Coolwater on May 30th, 2013, 11:57 pm
The grunting noises of several Coolwater hold members could be heard back on the docks, the others stayed on land. They were preparing for the incoming haul of fish. Some personnel was on site for the repairing of boats or supplying dry, hot towels for the hard workers. There was a handful of boats out today, even spacing between each other. It was a smart plan, gain more catch for the hold and to prevent arguments over anything as trivial as food that would be distributed equally anyway. The sun's heat was most prominent at this time of the season, so close to summer. It would be a constant battle from day to day for the marked followers of Morwen to keep the buildings from losing their ice. But before that, one of them had other duties to attend too. "Everyone, shift to the right, northeast! Get to the school at full rowing power!" commanded Glauden, the navigator for the long-boat, medium size but small in width. Veizor kept a low stance, one leg on the end of the boat while the other was firmly planted on the wooden floor of it. In the process of controlling his res, having water within the lake immediately swirl around into a sphere that floated underwater. It was placed right next to a school of fish, being trapped in it while the nets were thrown overboard. Splashing into the water, slowly descending, it wrapped itself around the sphere. Veizor quickly released the magic, the sphere dissipating. The fish fit perfectly into the net! "Lift!" said one other lad who relieved himself of oar duty, calloused knuckles and rough hands gripping the net. His fingers were best placed right next to the holes, but took caution to not lose his fingers to a careless tug of the net. Burly, strong Glauden yanked the open end, lifting it over his shoulder. The fish floundered about, useless struggling. The water dripped and made a splattering noise, hitting the lake water and sides of the boat. The men cheered and roared with their achievement, helping Glauden set the catch down before tying the knot on the net to keep the fish from breaking out. A swipe of the brow, Veizor sat back down. Deep breaths following a couple shoulder-slaps as a gesture for thanks, the boat returned to the dock. "Phew, a man needs water to refill the well of hardwork!" exclaimed the Vantha, taking a seat on top of a wooden barrel. He took a jug of water, originally left for someone else. A quick three gulps of it helped tremendously. Minding his own business, a fisherman waved to him to grab his attention. Not of broad stature or relatively good height, the fisherman looked like he was in his late-twenties. "A fine day to you sir, what you need of me?" asked Veizor, standing up and shaking the man's hand. "Well tidings! Get yer' behind at the front gate with ye' Frostfawn and Snowsong fer' a hunting party at thee' wastes. Learn a few thangs or two and be friendly! Tomorrow morning, don't be late!" he stated, the fisherman giving a simple nod, goodbye gesture with two fingers, and happily humming a tune before greeting a boat crew. Deep sigh and a stroll to his home, Veizor packed his things, rejuvenated himself with a goodnight's rest, he was ready for the next day. -------- His sword-breaker in its small leather holding across his belt and a mild focus on the group that had already started to converge on the gates, not much was on the Vantha's mind. Excitement and an anxious feeling of wanting to get the whole thing going, it sped up his walking pace unconsciously. The snow moved out of the way with each step, leaving a footprint and steady trail. The conversations got louder, until Veizor had reached the party itself. Everyone looked well prepared, eager to get the blood flowing. Looking each individual up and down previously before at a distance, a better up-close look did not reveal much more information. One thing that caught his eye, a boy that looked around his age didn't have any form of weapon. Maybe it was hidden for all Veizor knew, so he thought nothing else of it. "Welcome, glad you made it! You are from Coolwater?" said the hunter who had called over Limey and Chev. A hand extended out. "Yes, yes I am! Thank you for having me, I hope to be beneficial to the group and learn!" he earnestly remarked, putting his own hand out to give a firm shake between the two men, starting off on good impressions and the beginnings of a bond. "I am Hansin, these two here are Limey and who we liked to call, "Little Chev". But don't worry mate, y'all look to be the same age so you two can be hunting partners on this trip." Smiling, Veizor looked down at Chev. He could easily tell why he wasn't referred to anything other than an adjective used for small sizes. Not wanting to go off on a tangent of jokes just yet, the Vantha settled for a more restrained approach to this occasion. It was important that they would begin off on the right foot in order for them to both be successful as a duo. "Pleased to meet you, I am Veizor. I am a mage of Reimancer, take my word when I say you will have protection on my part while I am around. No beast will best this hunting party, fine men all around what I can see," introducing himself before changing his tone midway, grandiose type of feeling in his voice. He couldn't help himself but add a little pep in his step, praising the group that had assembled. A hearty laugh and a quick head-count, Hansin pointed outwards to the wastes, "We are off!" The whole group followed, Veizor staying close to Chev and Limey for the most part. It was a whole new frontier, so the Vantha trekked along a thin line mentally, cautious of the wilds and what was being held secret. |
by Chev on June 1st, 2013, 8:38 pm
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by Veizor Coolwater on June 8th, 2013, 5:51 am
The way he acted, his mannerisms, made Veizor ponder Chev's real age. Surely no one at 18 or 17 would act like a newborn puppy to strangers, nonetheless blush as if he was a school girl. His white eyes stared at Chev, mentally reducing him to miniscule size, body language dictating his own lack of self-confidence. His own body betrayed him, the pink coming and permeated his cheeks profusely. It all happened in a moment after the boy's voice trailed off, ending just as fast as Veizor made the observation. Chev was someone to, "watch" per say, if only it was to see if he would carry his own weight on the mission. In a "Saved by the Bell" fashion, the call to leave was made. The actual journey to the wastes wasn't anything excited for Veizor, deciding to remain quiet and watch the group itself. The first interesting thing to point out about the group was that there was organization, then again there wasn't. Everyone had a connection of sorts, already knew the procedure. These men must of been hunting together since they were boys, as commands were being carried out with no form of verbal communication being emitted. Head nods, hand signals, eye contact, really felt like they were all in a different dimension when teamwork was involved. Second was what Veizor perceived to be extensive knowledge of the landscape by the veterans of the hunting party, talking to the younger ones about the area. The short cuts, lairs of beasts, fauna and flora, bits and pieces of information that the Vantha took into his memory bank. Turning his head and looking down once more at Chev, a chuckle accidently slipped out. "Ha! Comical thought, but I do not know other than my mother's cooking. I am sure my dad's own height as to do something with it, and toying with magic as a child," he answered, chuckles between some words. It was an absurd question in its own right, but a quick reassessment of his own self made Veizor believe it to be a valid question. He was mostly know for being taller than everyone else that was average height, easily picked out of crowds of Vantha during the day. A gush of cold wind carried snow flakes with it, peppering the party and making them come to a sudden halt. Grabbing his scarf and covering his face as quickly as he could, everyone else either used their undershirts or arms to provide minimal protection. It continued for a couple of seconds, surprising those marching in the front. "Hansin!" yelled out a shorter Vantha, bulky with a spear in hand and a shield on his back. "Shouldn't it be warmer at this point?!" he questioned, quickly turning to face away from the wind. "Yeah, thats how it is supposed to be! But we cannot control the weather my friend! Press on at a slower pace!" he replied back, waving over his shoulder to command everyone to move forward. Grunts and whispers could be heard between others, but no one ultimately minded. It was just a usual day of hunting, with increasingly unusual circumstances. |
by Chev on June 16th, 2013, 7:54 pm
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by Veizor Coolwater on June 20th, 2013, 4:11 pm
The sudden gusts of wind had traveled across the entire group, now the back shielding their own faces. The party began to move deeper through the developing blizzard, huddling closer for warmth when bits and pieces of snow bypassed their leathery defenses. Feeling a slight burning sensation from Morwen's mark, the cold air barely phased him. Only problem he had was with the potential case of getting snow blindness, so Veizor avoided looking down and covered his eyes with a snow rabbit pelt. He had asked to borrow it from one of the other men, having extra in hand. It was getting stronger and stronger, bringing the travel speed to an unbearable slowness. Visibility was reduced to about fifteen or twenty feet. Veizor was more bothered by the parties refusal to push through the hardship, choosing to go through it bit by bit instead of charging through. They would be done with it faster that way, but the Vantha couldn't decipher his own kinds thinking. Maybe the Gnosis' effect of ignoring cold temperatures gave a false impression on Veizor, thinking that other people could do it by the concept of mind over matter. Some could consider it a form of spoiled thinking, but he gave no more thought to it. Turning his head to Chev, removed from his inner rambling, he noticed that Chev hadn't been much bothered by it. Then, Veizor's mark burned and he somehow sensed that he had Morwen's mark as well. "Well, the winds are getting powerful and the snow is hindering our progress. Follow me, we can go see what is going on," he inquired, leaving his footmarks behind through the snow. Weaving through the crouched men, dodging snow covered fabrics and multitude of weapons, Veizor was up in the front. Hansin turned and looked at him, moreso upwards. "What ya' need?" he asked, a slap at his own beard to knock off attached snow flakes. "Whats the next course of action, are we close?" he asked. |
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