Solo The Hunger Times

Kreig is on the graveyard shift when something tasty assaults his nose.

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While Sylira is by far the most civilized region of Mizahar, countless surprises and encounters await the traveler in its rural wilderness. Called the Wildlands, Syliran's wilderness is comprised of gradual rolling hills in the south that become deep wilderness in the north. Ruins abound throughout the wildlands, and only the well-marked roads are safe.

The Hunger Times

Postby Kreig Messer on May 31st, 2015, 4:11 pm


79th of spring 515 AV, 24th Bell 20th chime 3rd tick.

It was night on the open road, and Kreig was one of those relegated to night duty as the caravan stopped. It had been an interesting few days to say the least, and perhaps more than a little painful both spiritually and physically as goodbyes had been said and the long trek began. The first few were typical, on the day he’d be one of those watching the off roads and trees for any disturbance or any other hints of danger while those at the front and back made similar observations. Those at the front kept watch for road hazards mostly, those at the back kept watch for stalkers and the like and the middle watched for much of the same.

The night was a different matter, the caravan hadn’t been quite a large group but large enough that wagons could circle around each other for protection, often setting up off the path and setting up bed rolls and tents in the middle. Some coaches were homes unto themselves so their occupants need not leave really. And right now it was the midnight bell and Kreig was one of those keeping watch as people slept. Kreig sat atop of the roof of one of the coaches, crossbow in hand yet not readied as he kept an eye out. Besides him was an older gent who was somewhere in his 40s, brown haired and a grizzled beard that was beginning to gray with age. He had this perpetual tired gaze, but Kreig had no doubt the man was watching like a hawk.

See anything, Ivan?[/color}”

“[color=brown] No. It’s been the same since ten chimes go, Kreig. Likely enough, it will stay that way for the next ten so stop asking
” He said without turning, his hands near his shortbow yet relaxed as he made no attempt to reach. Kreig only sighed, he couldn’t help it…. guard duty was boring, a necessary thing but boring nonetheless. Kreig turned his head to note the sleeping horses, finding it funny that they do so standing though at the same time yearning for such an ability. He looked back to the cluster of trees a distance before him, curiosity coloring his mind at what threat lurks behind them if any.

Oh, he knew the bog standard ones, the unlikeliest would be a pack of wolves despite his atrocious luck whilst the most likely would be Yukman KNOWING his luck. Though Ivan, who had been on these roads many times and thus is experienced, did not seem to expect any trouble, this made Kreig both relieved and bored. Relieved in that he wouldn’t have to worry about shielding people from a naked, hideous, onslaught yet bored because he had nothing to do but stay on watch with Ivan for company.

Of course, that’s what he thought until an aroma assaulted his senses, one that made his mouth drool and his stomach hunger. Ivan smelt it too and he seemed both appreciative and perturbed by the smell, as if it were not the time and place, but Kreig shared not the sentiment and looked to the older man as if asking for permission.

With a grunt of acknowledgment, Ivan gave his blessing for Kreig to go as to experience a bit of quiet. A gleeful grin appeared on Kreig’s face as he lept off and approached the center of camp, one thought assaulting his bored and hungry mind….


Feeel thy wrath!!!!

"You gents best be careful, I'm feelin' mighty rabid right now... and your the only ones around to bite"
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Kreig Messer
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