Date: 9th of Ymiden, Arc 719
Weapons: Scythe, Tower
Buffs: N/A
Status: Thoughtful
Weapons: Scythe, Tower
Armor: Plate
Buffs: N/A
Debuffs: N/A
This run should have been... well, not easy. Traversing the wild was never easy in a place like Yaralon. But the fractures had disappeared, so it should have been easier than normal. It had been easier than normal, right up until they came in sight of Fools Run.
Beside him, Selyin pinched the bridge of her nose, careful not to let their clients in the caravan see. "Praetorum, tell me I'm not seeing this." She hissed, controlling her horse perfectly even with her eyes closed. Grimacing in sympathy, he nudged Sivan a little closer to her so they could confer in private.
"You don't have to see it if you leave me in command." Prae offered, only half joking, keeping one eye on the horizon. "It does look beautiful though."
It really did. Fools run was usually a flat, mostly featureless plain that stretched as far as the eye could see. Lovely in its own way, but it was a bit dull to look at. Now, though, great swirling columns of color cut through the horizon, twisting and wavering, painting the clouds above in heavy splotches of every color Prae could think of. It was a striking image, one Prae wished he could keep.
"Right." Selyin said flatly. "Beautiful. In Yaralon, that's how you know it's damned deadly." She turned to look Prae in the eye, ignoring the caravan master hurrying up to them. "Can you hear the winds?" She demanded. His shoulders slumped slightly at that; he'd been expecting the question ever since he'd figured out those distant streaks of color were tornados, but he'd still held out some hope that she wouldn't ask.
"I'm out of ether." He admitted reluctantly. Selyin's lips thinned, and she nodded her head sharply in the direction of the tornados in a wordless command, before turning to speak to their client. Deal with it, he understood.
Praetorum stared off at the tornados, considering his options. Then he called for a torch.
Beside him, Selyin pinched the bridge of her nose, careful not to let their clients in the caravan see. "Praetorum, tell me I'm not seeing this." She hissed, controlling her horse perfectly even with her eyes closed. Grimacing in sympathy, he nudged Sivan a little closer to her so they could confer in private.
"You don't have to see it if you leave me in command." Prae offered, only half joking, keeping one eye on the horizon. "It does look beautiful though."
It really did. Fools run was usually a flat, mostly featureless plain that stretched as far as the eye could see. Lovely in its own way, but it was a bit dull to look at. Now, though, great swirling columns of color cut through the horizon, twisting and wavering, painting the clouds above in heavy splotches of every color Prae could think of. It was a striking image, one Prae wished he could keep.
"Right." Selyin said flatly. "Beautiful. In Yaralon, that's how you know it's damned deadly." She turned to look Prae in the eye, ignoring the caravan master hurrying up to them. "Can you hear the winds?" She demanded. His shoulders slumped slightly at that; he'd been expecting the question ever since he'd figured out those distant streaks of color were tornados, but he'd still held out some hope that she wouldn't ask.
"I'm out of ether." He admitted reluctantly. Selyin's lips thinned, and she nodded her head sharply in the direction of the tornados in a wordless command, before turning to speak to their client. Deal with it, he understood.
Praetorum stared off at the tornados, considering his options. Then he called for a torch.

