[Bronze Woods] To Hunt, or to be Deceiving? (Belinda)

Belinda and Ferrin encounter a campsite. But, something then expected happens.

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Stretching northward along the coastline of the Suvan Sea, the Cobalt Mountains are the home of the Bronze Wood, numerous ruins, and creatures both strange and fantastical.

[Bronze Woods] To Hunt, or to be Deceiving? (Belinda)

Postby Ferrin Al'Mandrikan on February 9th, 2016, 4:04 pm

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Winter of 80th out of 92nd.

Days grew longer as the Winter season grew. The season stood up, like a dog on heels. Relying on the cold to keep a loft. Ferrin knew that the season was soon going to be over. Synas light shown proudly over the empty horizon. Though, a mix of blues and light tinted orange mixed throughout the sky indicating that it is now morning. Though, Ferrin hadn't had any problems with living in the busy city of Syliras. But, he does like to feel at home. And one of the ways he could, was hunt. And that left him memories of his father. Hunting, for days, or possibly for hours. Lessons. Techniques.

All were a part of a binding memory that Ferrin had had with his father. Though, his father grew a drunk after be stopped training Ferrin to be as strong as an Knight. It was those memories that the man had held onto for his courage to become a Knight. He wanted to find the rest of his family that lived within the walls of Syliras. But, where to look if any? Or were there any to be looking for? Ferrin was really curious. Curious enough to find out anything where the rest of his heritage had gone. Thorin, can't be the only man.

A foot of snow blanketed the once green grass and darkened soil beneath. It crunched lightly as the Kenashian picked his steps with careful ease. The man was near the Aviator River, hunting for some small game today. He's already been out a bell or so more before he started the hunt. Trees surrounded the man from every direction, and swayed throughout the light gusts of wind like some sort of belly dancer. But, as a tree. Wolves howled miles away. In search of prey and game. Though, the activity of wolves has had become more frequent within the winter seasons, Ferrin hadn't seen any of them lately. Well, not in person.

Noises of birds chirping within their homade nests that were manufactured from twigs and leaves and other things that nature has the capability to contribute. Branches swayed with swooshing sounds as if they were attempting to follow melody with the birds who chirpped. Ravens crowed cawked while perched on a branch near the Aviator River. And Ferrin looked up, the bird wasn't cawing at him, no. It was cawing at a now dead animal. And it swiftly swooped down to dig its beak into the dead deer where its caucus was now rotting.

Ferrin looked away and nearly gagged at the display. It was certainly nothing of a pretty sight and noting fun either. Out of the distance, Ferrin spotted a campfire as he tilted his head towards a slight aroma of smoke. A light orange hew could be seen with a slight glance over the leaves that blanketed the magnanimous wooden fractures. "That could possibly be a campsite. Maybe, someone could help me find a decen t enough hunting spot." Ferrin spoke quietly and confidently. Though, he had a tone of distrust within the mix that he couldn't shake off.

The Kenashian sighed heavily. And slowly picked his way carefully through the trees. As he took another turn. When he walked through an underbrush, he came out with leaves coming out of his cloak and clothes. Though, everything he had was still with him. Bow, quiver of arrows. A pack. And his sword. What else would he need to survive throughout the woods? There was something unfamiliar of these group of people that the man had stumbled upon. They acted just the same as when Ferrin had met Garland while out looking for game.

Bandits?

Ferrin spotted a messed up wagon with broken weeks and cracked wood near the campfire. Fallen logs housed as seating furniture. Two tents set up adjacent to each other. One man sat on top of one of the fallen logs, roasting some small game. Rabbit possibly. The man was lean, but muscular at the same time. Short. Black hair and a scar on his left side of his face."Max, get your petching ass out here. I've thought I told you to tend to the fire you lazy, incompetent fool!" The man rated his food on top of a custom made rack that hold things such as food.

Ferrin hid himself behind two boulders. Fortunately, for him no one had seen him. The clearing was big enough to hold about four stone houses at least. But, the only thing that had an appearance of housing were where the tents was. One of the tenst opened up and out stepped a young looking man with blonde hair with a dirty aspect with it. Long, like he doesn't enjoy having a hair cut."Aye, boss. What de yer want. Can't you see I'm busy!"The boss, took a small blade out and quickly hurled it at the ground of Max's feet just merely touching the spot where his toes would've been if he weren't wearing shoes.

"Your a petching shyke head. You know, don't talk to me like that or I'll make sure my next throw will hit target."The blonde haired man, named Alex stammered as he stopped closer to the boss after he picked up the bosses dagger."S-sorry boss. Just early in th' morn.'" The boss snarled in disgust as he grudhinly grabbed his dagger from Max's hands."Get me some more tinder for the fire. And you better do as I say, or your portions would get smaller. I mean it."The man snarled once more and took his cooked rabbit and bit a chunk of it. He chewed with his mouth open, which was a disgusting scene for his eyes. No manners was thus "boss" ever taught by parents or friends if he had any.

Max, hurried back inside to grab his double bladed ax. One side, custom made for backing down trees. And the other for hacking down faces. Dangerous tool to be up against. Max, hurried out of the tent accompanied by a woman with short aurburn coloured hair and a shortbow. Though, she was strikingly like Ellwyn, but Ellwyn hadn't worne the shirt hair, she wore long hair with the auburn colour. The two walked out with hunting gear on the backs and exited the opposite side of the clearing. While, the boss continued to rest his hands over the fire for warmth and alternate between eating his cooked rabbit and warming his hands. Something tells Ferrin that this wouldn't end to well for him if he chooses to talk to these bandits.

If he would talk to them. He would rathy stay perched behind boulders then encounter these men and women who seem tough and melancholy. Harsh, over ruling. Insignificant? And not so charming. How would he go about with this encounter? He could take an arrow and aim it at the boss. That will be less of a challenge if he had succeed. Or, he can go around the clearing and flank Max and the other woman. Or, he could wait and see what will happen next.

Choices floated throughout the man's head as he decided on staying behind the boulders. And hope for the best, that nothing out of the ordinary could happen to him. Hope for the best.
Image

"With a heart of steel, I raise my blade in combat. The only thoughts I have in my mind is whether I'd return home to my family. I am a soldier, and will fight for love and peace. That is the way of being a Syliran Knight"-Ferrin.



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[Bronze Woods] To Hunt, or to be Deceiving? (Belinda)

Postby Belinda on April 5th, 2016, 1:20 am

Belinda had decided to spend her time practicing out in the woods while she waits for the ship. She hadn’t been sleeping well at all since that night. Green eyes haunting every shadow in her mind. She has cried herself to sleep more often than she cared to admit at all. Maybe stabbing harmless wood would help her take the edge off. It was very cold as she had her gloves and cloak around the white linen shirt with corset and leather pants, black of course. The guards gave her the standard warning of not wandering too far into the woods. The woman nodded as she told them she was just going for a walk for a while. That was kind of true.

A couple of bells in and she thought she found a nice little spot, good sized tree and packed snow beneath. She drew the rapier and got into position as she scooted back and forth in a straight line with the rapier held forward and straight to warm up her legs. Back and forth slowly till the warmth of the movement seeped in. The chimes that went by started to relax her as she scooted forward then back in retreated steps. She then lunged at the tree in front of her as the point stuck into the bark. The lunge thrust was the bread and butter of fencing. Balance was important as was accuracy. The rapier was an elegant weapon that is for the most part a piercing weapon. A person can slash with it as the first six inches are sharp on both sides but it would be like death by a thousand cuts. While in some instances would be entertaining, it was not practical in most combat situations.

Again she scooted forward, lunged her foot out and thrust her arm strongly to hit the target. There was no target but in her eye there was. Belinda did it again and again as the stab marks became evident as that was the target. It had been many chimes at the lunge and thrust as she heard murmurs. The girl stopped a moment to try and pinpoint the murmurs. She moved quietly around the edge of that particular group of trees watching her step as she lightly pressed into the snow. Belinda rounded the bend to hear the group. The crafty girl marked three males. She waited a moment and through the discussion thought she may have marked two females. Some guys can sound very feminine. She looked over the side very quietly to get a look at them.

Once she got a glimpse, she recalled a report of bandits attacking people on the roads. Those that go between the outpost and the city were sometimes hit by the desperate though all they get was poor people. The last one she heard about was hurt pretty badly. This made her blood boil. Belinda wasn’t about to take on five people either. She chewed her lip absently as she was trying to think of a way to get these bandits. She started moving around to the side quietly as she spotted another man on the outside of the camp. He was alone.

There was one of those ‘aha’ moments as adrenaline flooded her system and those eyes gleamed brightly. Very quietly she would move closer to the man and when he turned to leave he found a rapier blade point at his throat and dangerous grey eyes looking down at him. “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t run you through this instant.” The voice was a beautiful throaty and husky contralto as she spoke that low tone.
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[Bronze Woods] To Hunt, or to be Deceiving? (Belinda)

Postby Ferrin Al'Mandrikan on April 5th, 2016, 2:29 am

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Unfortunately, as the Kenashian turned his gentle abode back around to retrace his steps before those bandits could see him. Shyke. There was another one, as foolish as it seemed Ferrin hadn't even noticed her to come around the clearing. Did he miscount? The woman's rapier was positioned just at the man's throat with ease. The Kenashian quavered for words. He had nothing to say, his throat felt parched. His lips were now cracked and dried. One of his hands rested on the pommel of his short broadsword. Why shouldn't this woman kill him, why? Ferrin would tell her why. Mostly, because; a: he wasn't a bandit. And B; he was mostly a hunter interrupted by bandits. And surely, there were five of them.

"I can tell you why."Said Ferrin in a hoarse whisper. His words were a bit choked while the peculiar woman clung the sword at his throat. "I'm not a bandit."He said simply. Ferrin took his pupils and moved them to understand more of what the lady had. The usual basic dark clothing like any other local. Still, she seemed as bad-ass, as a champion fighting to retrieve his glory.

"You can release the weapon now ma'am, please."Now, with that please at the end of its sentence. It sounded more formal. And apologetic. Surely, the Kenashian had done nothing out of the wrong. Behind him, Ferrin heard chatting, but didn't focus on it to much as he was focusing on his own death. He didn't want or need to die at this moment. There'll become a different place and time.

"All we need need now, is a plan. Do you trust me?"Asked Ferrin in a whisper. The idea was mainly to suggest to either scare the bandits, or try and capture them, or even kill them off. Either way, things were going to get risky, whether or not this woman was one of the bandits."My name is Ferrin, by the way."
Image

"With a heart of steel, I raise my blade in combat. The only thoughts I have in my mind is whether I'd return home to my family. I am a soldier, and will fight for love and peace. That is the way of being a Syliran Knight"-Ferrin.



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I'm Open To Guest Storytelling Let Me Know, and I'll See What I Can Do!
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[Bronze Woods] To Hunt, or to be Deceiving? (Belinda)

Postby Belinda on April 30th, 2016, 6:39 pm

Bandits to her experience were usually brash. They generally attacked first and asked questions later, if they were alive still. This specimen chose to question and to answer. Her eyes narrowed as that rapier, trained on his throat, did not waver. He wasn’t a bandit.

“Prove it.” She said in a low voice to carry to his ear but not be loud considering they were more or less on top of them.

The man claimed to be a hunter. The gear he was wearing agreed to it but it also said mercenary. Her time with mercs and bandits that would hit up the tavern in Mithryn was all to freshly clear. There was one thing missing. He was cleaned shaven. He was also attempting to be polite. Bandits definitely were not the polite sort. The tip of her rapier moved slowly down a bit as she kept it half poised just in case as he continued speaking.

He had the gall to ask if she trusted him. “No, I do not. “ She said in the same low voice. “But I agree to make a plan.” Either she was foolish or there was something more to this man. She sighed as she sheathed her rapier. The raven haired woman did not bother with an apology. She put her back towards the rocks to scrunch down as her ears were half-cocked to listen to the bandits. He offered his name. The half Beshiran was not sure rather it was a fake name or not. It didn’t matter, it was something to call him other than ‘hey, you’.

“Belinda.” She offered after a chime or two.

She looked through the space in between the stone at the bandit circle to see if she could mark their numbers. “How many are there?” She whispered. The woman than looked for scalability of the rocky crags in that spot and scope out possible alternative entry and exits. The woman worked to silently step to where a scalable part was before she started climbing to get a gander from an elevated location in as much as garnish any other intelligence they might be giving both verbal and nonverbal. She gave a hand sign to tell him to be quiet as she found a ledge she could half lay across. She scrunched into a low crouch. There were five tents circled around a camp fire. There was a smattering of bones and garbage scattered throughout. The remains of what they scavenged after looting a traveler. There were poorly skinned hides and the sour smell of rotten meat. This mingled with the ever stale presence of body odor. They needed a bath. Three of them were in camp as they came in and out of tents. Two were unaccounted for.

In part she was thankful for the body odor as they couldn’t smell her and she could trail them easily smelling that badly. In her mind, there were standards. These were third rate thieves and cut throats working for what they can steal, scavenge or take. Now and then they get lucky and get a larger take. The girl clambered down to share what she saw.


“two versus five are not great numbers, but if we get them one by one we could deal with them easier. We need to locate the other two. What do you have in mind?” She whispered.
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