Flashback All darkness must pass (Wrenlo, Farren)

(This is a thread from Mizahar's fantasy role playing forums. Why don't you register today? This message is not shown when you are logged in. Come roleplay with us, it's fun!)

A lawless town of anarchists, built on the ruins of an ancient mining city. [Lore]

Moderator: Anomaly

All darkness must pass (Wrenlo, Farren)

Postby Cleon on June 16th, 2022, 6:55 pm

Image
20th of Fall 512 AV


The storm had changed everything about the city Cleon once thought he knew. The Sunset Quarter looked entirely different now and was still largely ruined the further south one strayed. Many had gone to the vast tent city encamped across the river, leaving people like him and his sisters behind to fend for themselves. Cleon didn’t envy them though. He’d heard that it was even more cutthroat among the tents than it was here which only reinforced the decision he had made to keep them in the Sunset Quarter even if most nights they didn’t have a proper place to sleep. Occasionally they stayed with the orphans, or if they were lucky, family but for the most part they stayed in the ruined shell of old buildings until they raised enough coin to stay with their parents for a few nights.

The Sunset Quarter was still rebuilding, its residents poorer then ever which didn’t make for good pickings an their house was little more than a coffin at the moment. Certainly not enough room for them to stay, and Faye had been developing a worrying cough. Cleon knew things couldn’t remain this way. That he needed to bring back enough coin to get their house in order but it was hard on this side of the river, and he didn’t dare to think of going to the other side where the gangs might snatch him off the street. At least here they didn’t bother him too much, although he’d had his share of close calls with Dagger Hand thugs this side of the river. He stayed well away from anyone he made out to be gang affiliated and kept his sisters away too, not wanting that sort of life for them.

However it was hard to get by without one as Cleon was quickly learning as he walked down the street with his sister Farren. The morning was young and they were looking for a score that would be big enough to fill their empty bellies. They’d left Faye with the other orphans as it would be too hard to manage a two year old while trying to fleece someone, and they didn’t really have any other choices in the matter. What they did worked best as a team so it wasn’t like one of them could stay behind to look after Faye anyways.

Cleon scratched at his chest idly as they stood at bend in the lane where it continued forward only to bend sharply to the right. Wearing a dirty wool shirt and a pair of breeches a size too small for his skinny legs, he knew what he looked like. He looked like a thief, and that was why he had cleaned up Farren some so she could be the pretty faced distraction for their little ploy. Farren was wearing a long wool shift that carried down to her knees, and had her hair pulled into a small pony tail. She was all knees and elbows, as bare foot as he was but they’d managed to get her face and hands cleaned up rather well at least. They couldn’t do anything about the smell, but then again, everyone in the Sunset Quarter smelled so he hoped that wouldn’t really be a problem.

Looking down the lane, Cleon saw a handful of people milling about, getting their homes together. They looked sufficiently busy enough that he might be able to knick a tool or two so he started down the lane with his sister in tow, hanging around close to the edge of it although the lane was just as muddy on the edge as it was in the middle. It had rained sometime during the night leaving small pools of water behind that only made that fall morning feel hotter with the humidity, his dirty wool shirt sticking to him. They had ventured down the lane a ways when Cleon spotted their target. A young man seated with his back towards them whom was apparently quite preoccupied with something he had laid out on the table though that wasn’t all that made him an attractive mark. He had a number of small tools on his person that looked like they might be easy to knick and might earn them a few copper miza at least if they found the right buyer. Cleon would let Farren take care of that part as she was always better with her words than he was.

Cleon ducked into a narrow split between two houses, barely wide enough for his small body to fit through. Farren started to follow, but he held up a hand to stop her.

“You see that big over there? Sitting by the table. Talk to him while I try to get close.” He said in a hushed whisper as he started shimmying down the narrow passageway. Cleon didn’t look back at Farren as he did so, expecting that she would do as he asked her to. Instead he turned his mind solely upon the task at hand. The only good thing about being small was the routes he could take to get to his mark. Most couldn’t cut it between the narrow gaps between houses which along with giving him an avenue for sneaking up on the target also gave him a good opportunity for escape if he needed to. Of course, this didn’t work for every lane as sometimes the houses didn’t have any spaces between them, but he tried to stay away from those areas.

For now he concerned himself with picking his way around this first house until he found himself behind it and looking down a much narrower space than before if he wanted to follow horizontally to the lane he was just on. With no other choice, he sucked in his breath as he inched sideways down the narrow corridor that ran between the backs of this row of shacks, the wooden walls pressing against his back and chest. He could feel the wood pulling at his shirt, the wool roughly scratching across his skin but all he could do was grit his teeth and bare it until he was out on the other side of the passageway where it opened up slightly wider. The fact that he was deeply afraid of getting stuck if he breathed out helped keep him focused and pressing forward until after what felt like an endless chime he was free on the other side, panting to catch his breath as he leaned against the house.

Peaking out around the corner, he didn’t see the man or anything he recognized but had to figure he was getting closer as the man hadn’t been that far away. He hesitated though, not sure if he should venture out of the alley, or continue. This alley, if it could be even called that was far from pleasant even if the air was slightly cooler. A cold, slimy mud covered the ground between the houses, and there were more than a few cobwebs stretching between these houses that hadn’t been erected for much longer than a season. It also stank like a privy thanks to the fact that most people on this row threw their refuse here, making it especially ripe between the rows. Cleon tried not to think about that just now though, or how it added to the grossness of the slimy ground as he continued down the narrow alley that fortunately didn’t get any narrower as he reached the corner of the next house in line.

There. He heard Farren’s familiar voice somewhere on the other side of this wooden shack. The only problem was this shack’s wall was all petched on this side, and leaned against the one beside it so that the tops were touching which left only a narrow triangle gap on the bottom to crawl through. Cleon thought about going back to the other gap but if Farren was talking, he didn’t know how much longer she could keep his attention, and there were problems with keeping his attention for too long as well. Cleon felt his pulse pounding in his ears as he leaned against the wall trying to see if he could listen any better but it was no use, he couldn’t make out anything that was being said. He looked down at the narrow gap again, and sucked in a deep breath before dropping on all fours.

He sank into the muck wrist deep as he practically had to drag his body through the narrow gap with his arms. Of course he had to be silent as well so he had to pull himself along slowly, not lifting any part of his body out of the muck so as to avoid any unintentional squelches. For the moment he was confident that the ambient sounds would cover the sound of him scooting through the muck as he leveraged his bare toes to help inch him along. Digging them as far as he could into the muck, he would then extend his feet as he dragged himself along with his fingers, wincing at every plop of muck which made him go even slower. Somehow muck had gotten into his tangled mass of dirty blond hair and was threatening to fall onto his face so he had to stop briefly to pinch off the glob and slowly put his hands back into position to continue pulling himself along. He was almost at the exit now, just a few more inches… and he could see out into the street again from his shaded alcove.

More importantly he could see the back of the man Farren was talking to. His eyes focused on a small hammer hanging off the man’s belt, and Cleon licked his lips before he thought about it. An astringent taste filled his mouth, and Cleon silently gagged, refusing to breath out because that might make enough of a noise to alert this man. Instead he bit down hard on his inner cheek until it bled and the disgusted wave of feeling mostly passed. Then it was like he was outside of himself once more, scrapping the bitter taste off on his front teeth, and reminding himself silently to spit it out later. Looking up and down the street, Cleon quickly decided now was a good time to make his exit and started looking for places he would run into to get away if this went south. He quickly figured the same block of buildings would do if it came to it as the narrowness would likely keep this big from following him.

Satisfied, Cleon slowly stood up, keeping his arms and legs close together as he did to make sure any muck that slid off of him would remain on his person for the most part. He didn’t need any extraneous strange noises for this part. Unfortunately he didn’t have the luxury of waiting long because he would soon start drawing attention from any passerby that chanced to look this way. Cleon needed to act now before someone else noticed him, and any sound he made he hoped would be covered up by Farren’s distraction.

One step. Two. He came into view of Farren who to her credit didn’t look at him immediately as she brushed a strand of hair from her face, smiling up at the man. Cleon almost licked his lips again as he reached out for the man’s belt but managed to stop himself in time. His fingertips brushed against the head of the small hammer, then when the man adjusted his weight to lean on his right foot, Cleon pinched the head between two muddy fingers. It caught and even loosened from the knot in the man’s belt. Smiling slightly, Cleon started to loosen it further when the man suddenly turned around. Looking up, he caught a frightened expression from Farren and knew immediately that he was cooked.

WC - 1,990
User avatar
Cleon
Player
 
Posts: 366
Words: 492860
Joined roleplay: March 3rd, 2022, 4:50 am
Race: Human
Character sheet
Storyteller secrets
Medals: 1
Mizahar Grader (1)

All darkness must pass (Wrenlo, Farren)

Postby Farren on June 16th, 2022, 6:58 pm

Image








Farren hated waking up early in the morning. Hated the way Sunset Quarter always smelled like rancid river water and burning shite. Most of all she hated that it had been three days since their last meal which had been a loaf of mealy bread split between the three of them. The only nice thing they had done was clean up her face and hands a little before first light in a bucket of rainwater. It may have been enough to give them the edge they needed to actually pull of a knick today, something she knew they desperately needed. The collapsed shack they had sheltered in last night had left her with a chill that was only just now starting to thaw out as the heat picked up. She worried a little bit about how Faye was doing back at the orphanage, but just had to hope that the mistress was taking good care of her for now. They’d tried to get their parents to take her at first, however after the storm blew away their home, their family was sandwiched together with two others in a small hovel barely big enough for one. There was no room for them there, and they’d have to pay for the privilege besides.

So stomach growling, Farren followed her brother like a ghost which is sort of what she felt like. Wisp thin, with thin limbs and skin that clung to her bones, she didn’t have an ounce of fat on her body, or face. Her cheekbones were sharp, and the wanness of her face gave her an angular expression making her dark brown eyes appear large on her face. Having seen herself that morning in the reflection off the water, she wasn’t proud of the way she looked. In fact she despised it, but she’d cleaned up anyways because she knew she wouldn’t be that useful as a distraction unless she did so. Although she was loathe to admit it, she did end up feeling much better after her wash, almost human even. She even fancied that she could be as pretty as those women she saw strutting about with makeup on if she ever managed to knick some of it for herself though that was something to worry about on a full belly. Right now they needed something valuable that they could immediately sell.

Cleon must have seen something that interested him because he started down a lane in a hurry, and Farren hustled to follow him. When he disappeared through a narrow gap, she tried to follow him before she realized what he was doing. She give a suspicious look over towards the only man she saw sitting down, then looked back at her brother who was no longer looking in her direction. With a slight huff, Farren turned back towards the man and started skipping down the lane. Her bare feet kicking up little flecks of mud onto her long wool shift, not that she paid it much mind. Whistling a tune under her breath, she came around to the other side of where the man was sitting and stopped, dramatically spinning on her heel to face him. Taking a step towards the table, she put her hands on the edge as she leaned slightly over it and looked up from whatever the man was working on to stare into his eyes.

He was actually not a man. Not really. An older boy with a lot more hard lines on his face than Cleon, and taller than them both put together. Farren bit her lower lip nervously as she thought about trying to get Cleon to reconsider this mark but instead she took in a deep breath, and batted her eyes up at him.

Whatcha doing there?” She drawled, doing her best to look interested as she glanced down again while making herself look smaller by tucking her shoulders forward. Looking down she noticed what Cleon must have. A small hammer on his belt among a few other things that marked this older boy as some sort of craftsman. Farren felt an unexpected surge of jealousy, and suddenly didn’t feel so bad about what they were about to do. As far as targets went, she didn’t think this young man would miss a tool or two. His family probably took care of him so he could afford to lose them. When she looked up at his face again, she forced a bright smile that showed off her small teeth, of which she had most of except for the fact that she was missing her top front two teeth in the middle. Thinking on the fly, she stuck her tongue out through them, hoping to illicit a laugh like she could with Faye doing that, but then quickly realized that this young man might not be so easily humored. Most of the olds were like that. Crotchety, and mean, liable to kick you if you were lucky, worse if you weren’t. They never did get a good joke.

Where’d ya learn that anyways? I ain’t never seen someone as strong as you. You must be from the other side of the river, aren’t ya? Why’d you come to the Sunset Quarter? Just working or are you planning on moving home?” She asked the questions like an outsider would expect a child to ask questions although Farren got the inkling that this boy was no outsider. He had a wary, darting look behind those moody eyes of his that told her as much. Honestly she wouldn’t be surprised if he’d grown up in the quarter. The quarter was a big place, probably the biggest neighborhood in Sunberth, so it wasn’t that surprising that she hadn’t run into him before. She clicked her tongue behind her teeth, then started giving the older boy another good look over when she saw Cleon edge into view. Her heart started beating like a rabbit on the run in a snap, and a trickle of sweat worked its way down her back.

Rapping her knuckles on the table, Farren pulled herself up onto it to sit on the edge so she could sway her feet off the side. She grinned over her shoulder at the older boy, occasionally looking down in her lap at her fingernails which had somehow gotten dirty in the brief time since she had last washed them.

So, are you always this good of a talker?” Farren asked, fussing with the dirt under her fingers and looking up only to wish she hadn’t. Her breath caught in her throat as she chanced a glance at Cleon then saw out of the corner of her eye that the older boy had caught her glance. Farren hopped off the table and bolted before the older boy followed her glance, running a few paces, feet slapping against the mud as she moved as fast as her gangly limbs would allow untill she reached the edge of the house and then squeezed through the gap while she hoping against everything that Cleon managed to get away.

WC - 1,181





.
User avatar
Farren
Player
 
Posts: 43
Words: 54755
Joined roleplay: May 31st, 2022, 12:41 am
Race: Human
Character sheet
Storyteller secrets

All darkness must pass (Wrenlo, Farren)

Postby Wrenlo Gravence on June 17th, 2022, 1:30 am

Image
Vaguely enough, dawn struck deep in his bones. An Internal clockwork for fear surrounding him as well a waking breathe knowing he’d survived another night in the pits of despair deep below this grimey, worn and torn city. The mining tunnels below the city where packed tight with most of the slummy who had survived the Djed Storm, including Wrenlo. His Uncle and Cousins faired safe too. Not that he could change fate, but his dreams last night where that of his Gram’s survival unlike his distant family sleeping next to him now. He sat up, wiping the dirt from his sleepy eyes with the knuckles on his thumbs before kicking one cousin roughly in her side with the opposite available foot, pushing her to roll off his dead sleeping leg. It took a some massaging and movement to get the blood flowing again but once it came to he was up, gathered his Uncle’s toolbelt and made slow precise steps that worked his way around sleeping strangers and out the mines to see the light of day.

He stunk of mud and stale moldiness from dwelling within since the last season. Not a thing he could do about it, their home was trashed apart after the storm along with all possessions they kept hoarded inside among everyone else who happen to live off Sunset Quarters. He had been sleeping in the same clothes for days, and once they where stiff enough from sweat and mud he’d take his chances dipping into the river bend of Baroque Bay. The fall crispness this early morning pushed him in a decision to not worry about it for the time being, he’d be soaking in sweat with the humidity later. Instead, he crouched along the water’s edge and cupped both hands into the water, once to wash the grime from his face, and second to clean the flaky mud from his naturally dirty locks. He raised a third cup from his hands for another face rinse, this time his palms heavy from rocks he thought. He didn’t pay mind and brought the cupped brown water up to his lips, and what was hidden under the mud water scraped sharply against his skin nothing like coarse gravel. Pulling back, a small gold charm of a key twinkled in his wet hands and next to it a small bone fragment smaller than his pinky. Tiny black engravings carved down the narrow portion of the bone, something he couldn’t make out. It was a valued find to see this charm along the shore and Wrenlo wondered what poor soul died from the storm and washed away without their keepsake while placing both items in the stiff pocket of his worn trousers for later inspection.

From here he strolled his way back to the Quarters, keeping eyes along the water for whatever else might wash up as he went. It was very scarce to say the least, and he surely wouldn’t find anything else along the path to Sunset Quarters. Even the destroyed homes where cleaned out from looting materials and other needs for Sunberthians to rebuild, which is why he made his dues to start his day by the break of light. Wrenlo always thought of his uncle more of a dunce than what his reputation brings him out to be as a blacksmith. It was odd of him to not take the building process seriously, and Wrenlo didn’t take kindly to following his lead on that note. Not like it took a lot of preplanning anyway, just a pace of finding the scraps to claim and sham up. The slick mudway softened and sank thick the more he neared their shell of a home. The walls had been placed and a hallow entry for a door but it still lacked a roof. He took a seat at the table in front of his home, on top of the table laid a door split down the middle. Both pieces laid close together where they would connect, along with a handful of bent nails he had spent the day prior collecting. Wrenlo pulled the mallet from his tool belt and grabbed a few bent nails from the pile, starting his day straightening them out. The very first hit went straight to his thumb. He held his breathe from screaming in rage at the little girl before him with her distraction, instead his eyes pierced at her like a hot poker. Where the petch did she come from? “Hello.. child. I’m repairing.” He retorted short and distant, confused by any reason as to why he caught her attention.

She had to be only seven or eight, a small framed little blonde who didn’t know how to mind her own business and a wretched place like Sunberth. “Can I help you with something?” He was obviously busy to be helping someone else, and his brow raised in concern when she avoided his question completely and started slurring out random questions. None of them he was willing to answer to, and in all honestly the girl acted like she was fronting for something else up her sleeve. Wrenlo had lived here far too long to be set up for a mugging by some dirty brat. Her body movement was off, like she was in a worry to run. Blue eyes shifted cautiously and brows furrowed staring deep at her now. “Do you always ramble on this often?” He pressed while reaching back to adjust the hammer looped into his belt against his back. Right after came a tickle from the same area the hammer was touching and all his intuition checked out she was playing decoy for someone else when her attitude changed for nerves and she gave herself up glancing at the boy inches behind him.

Wrenlo was quick to jump up, turning to grab the second kid by the forearm. He was raging inside from the shame of these two, only to take a second glance and one good whiff of the boy covered in slime from between the barely spaced alleyway between his home and the one next. Wrenlo gagged profusely, thankful he hadn’t eaten in a few days to puke anything up. The slime was slick and the blonde boy was able to slip his lanky wrist out from Wrenlo’s tight grip and tried to make a break back through the way he came, wedging his way as hard as he could. Everything was happening so fast, and the smell… the SMELL. he couldn’t brace himself to try and snatch him up again so instead he gave the boy a hardy kick in the ass, proving the blondes disposition quite terrible and he stuck face first to the slime. Wrenlo grabbed him by the ankle but when he went to pull him out it was trickier trying to get his shoulders past the walls when he was flat faced down. “The petch are you thinking? You look and smell like something my neighbor shite out last night!” His grip never loosened from the boys ankle as he spoke and he took a glance behind him to find the boy’s accomplice had ran the second he was caught in action.
Image
User avatar
Wrenlo Gravence
Player
 
Posts: 39
Words: 35203
Joined roleplay: January 15th, 2021, 3:02 am
Location: Sunberth
Race: Human
Character sheet
Storyteller secrets
Plotnotes

All darkness must pass (Wrenlo, Farren)

Postby Cleon on June 18th, 2022, 11:52 pm

Image


For a tick, Cleon’s felt like he might actually get away as his arms slipped out of the older boy’s grasp and he went down on all fours, scrabbling for the hole. Then he felt a solid kick on his arse that sent him sprawling face first into the muck, getting a mouthful as he was suddenly yanked back by his leg. Running on sheer panic, he spread his arms reflexively, pushing against the narrow confines in attempt to wedge himself further to avoid the punishment that was surely coming if he was pulled out of this hole. He opened his mouth to scream, but could only cough loudly as he swallowed some of the muck and reflexively started retching, followed by dry heaving that didn’t help keep him where he was.

His grip weakened while the older boy seemed to get a better hold on his leg, and twisted him around so he slipped out of the hole and into the streaming bright light of day. Cleon threw his scrawny arms up in front of his face to block the sun and any potential strike while curling up his legs to protect his middle. The struggle had been so frantic that up until that point he hadn’t even been listening to what the older boy was saying, didn’t think he needed to because he could guess what the older boy would say. What he didn’t expect was the yelp of pain that came out of the man’s mouth as Farren nailed him with a wooden club in back of his leg.

Hastily, Cleon scrambled up to get his feet under him and then charged the older boy’s legs hoping to knock him down. What he got was the breath knocked out of him when his shoulder hit what felt like a tree trunk of a leg and sent him sprawling onto his back, wincing in pain.

“What the petch you made of? Iron?” Cleon barked as he held his shoulder, scowling up at the older boy as he suddenly remembered what had gotten him into this situation in the first place. Sheepishly he started scrambling back a few paces as he got to his feet again, and held up his hands, nervously shaking like a leaf while he looked to the left and right before settling on the sight of Farren on the other side of him. She had her hands up and had a look in her eyes that just told him she was rooted to the spot. He couldn’t run away now, not if it meant leaving her behind. Gritting his teeth, Cleon sucked in a breath then spit out a glob of mucky spit on the ground between them.

“Look sir. We didn’t mean no harm by it, just trying to knick something for food. You looked like you had plenty of tools so I didn’t see the harm in you missing one.” Cleon said quickly, swallowing hard as he looked from the older boy to Farren. “Why don’t you just let my sister go, and you can take out your price on my hide. Go on, this ain’t my first jaunt down the Mudway.” He was breathing hard, but not exactly from exertion though there was a little of that at play. Cleon didn’t feel tired right now though, or hungry, as amped up as he was on adrenaline it was like he hadn’t been recently starving chimes ago. His eyes widened as he heard what the older boy had to say, and for a tick Cleon almost forgot that they were on a lane full of people, drawing attention as one might when covered in shite arguing with a stranger. Great. That meant they’d have to go to another part of the quarter entirely before they could try another nick, and wouldn’t be able to come this way for quite a few days perhaps.

There were a thousand things now that he had wished they’d done differently, but it wasn’t like they could change that now. They’d cast their dice and now it was time for this older boy to cast his. Cleon took in a deep breath as he waited to see what the stranger would do.

WC - 704
User avatar
Cleon
Player
 
Posts: 366
Words: 492860
Joined roleplay: March 3rd, 2022, 4:50 am
Race: Human
Character sheet
Storyteller secrets
Medals: 1
Mizahar Grader (1)

All darkness must pass (Wrenlo, Farren)

Postby Farren on June 18th, 2022, 11:53 pm

Image


There was a commotion behind her, and Farren’s heart dropped as she listened to the older boy catch her brother and the sound of the ensuing struggle painting vivid images in her mind that were a good deal worse than what was actually happening. She wanted to curse herself for her foolish mistake but knew that wouldn’t do any good as she slipped down the alleyway to come out into a small opening that didn’t leave her with very many options. Not for what she had planned anyways because there was no way she was going to run away and leave her brother to that thug.

Bitting her bottom lip hard enough to draw blood she looked frantically around the space before she decided to grab at a loose board from one of the houses. Yanking it away from the edge, she pulled back as hard as she could, digging her heels into the ground as she did so but the petching board just wouldn’t give. It would bend alright, making a slight curve, but she wasn’t strong enough to pull it away from the house. Frustrated she put her back flat against the wall opposite and then raised her foot, stopping down on where the curve of the wood bent. It snapped out of her fingers leaving the tips of fingers smarting as she went back to grasp the end of it again, the time with her foot leveraged where the bend had been.

Again she pulled as mightily as she could manage, finally hooking a foot over the board, and leaning back so it was holding all of her weight as it drifted backwards towards the ground, creaking loudly for a tick before it snapped and Farren fell on her ass in the muck. She didn’t time to take stock of her injuries although she could tell from the heat suddenly flush across her cheek that she had probably been smacked by the board on her way down. Farren just got up, and grabbed the broken piece of board as she shimmed her way back out of the alley.

Coming out into the open she saw the older boy dragging her brother out into the street. She charged after the older boy before she could think about it, and lashed out with the wooden plant, striking for the lower half of his legs. The moment she made contact however, Farren panicked and dropped her makeshift club on the ground as she held up her hands as she shied away from any reprisal.

For some odd reason she couldn’t move her legs anymore. Couldn’t make them take another step backwards even though she could have probably have gotten away if she had tried to make a run for it. She was froze thinking about what would happen to Cleon now that the older boy had a club, and what he would do if he caught her running away. All of those things were running through her head as she watched the older boy decide what he was actually going to do and in turn saw Cleon’s own attempt to distract him from her. She could have smiled if Cleon didn’t look so rough, though not from any beating he had suffered. He was covered head to toe in shite, and was breathing so hard that it almost looked like he just barely escaped drowning in that muck which might have been right given the sounds of that struggle.

Not for the first time Farren wished she had been just a little bit stronger. A little bit smarter, and maybe they wouldn’t be in this mess right now although of course she knew that it wasn’t totally her fault. It was always a numbers game with a nick. Eventually no matter how good someone was, they always got caught. So it fell to the thief to pick the sort that wouldn’t beat them to death if they caught them in a nick, and this older boy didn’t seem that sort though appearances were deceiving. One didn’t always know if that would be the case which made it such a gamble.

Belatedly, Farren realized she had torn her woolen shift on the right side where a little bit of blood was trickling down her pale leg. She winced, hoping it wasn’t anything serious enough that the mistress couldn’t handle back at the orphanage. She didn’t trust the doctor one bit. It set the bell ticking as she sought a way to supplement what her brother was saying as she tried to think about ways to get them out of this situation as unscathed as possible.

“My brother’s right. We didn’t take anything, and we didn’t mean no disrespect. Just let us go, and we’ll help you however you need us to.” She said quietly, unable to bring her voice above a quiet whispered. She could feel the eyes of passerby on them and it made her feel so very exposed and powerless in that moment as she started trembling slightly then with a effort of will, slowly balled her small hands into fists.

WC - 852



.
User avatar
Farren
Player
 
Posts: 43
Words: 54755
Joined roleplay: May 31st, 2022, 12:41 am
Race: Human
Character sheet
Storyteller secrets


Who is online

Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 0 guests