• Closed • [Winter Reach] The Cold Dark of Night

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Llyr Llywelyn
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[Winter Reach] The Cold Dark of Night


The scent of cold salty air cut across the coastal cliffside, where Llyr remained seated on top his fairly average black-coat horse. The short black hair of the mount matched the black of his armor, but the heaviness of all the metal he wore barely registered to the strong creature itself. It wasn't his usual horse, not made of stone and magic, but he found it endearing to ride something that breathed on its own. The lance was new, and he wasn't sure exactly how he felt about it but a few practice sparring rounds with others in his division had done well enough to make him feel that it was acceptable enough.

This was the fifth patrol he'd performed with Foxglove - or Sugar as he'd come to be affectionately known by the other soldiers - and it had taken some slight persuasion to remain side-by-side but not as much as he might've expected otherwise. The air in Winter Reach never got warmer, though, as the trials of Ashan went by. Llyr had grown accustomed to such chill, having lived in Viden like he had, but he knew the sev'ryn struggled more with adjustment.

"Do you see anything?" asked the woman with cropped hair. Yes, quite the same woman that had signed up right before them in the recruitment station in Korlasir. Her name was Jay and while gruff, she had proven herself friendly enough - as long as you didn't expect her to smile or anything. They'd all been sent out together, trained together, and now they scouted together. Sent to provide reinforcement to the navy, and along the coastline to find where the ships of raiders might be headed next.

"Hmm..." hummed Llyr while he scanned the water as it raged and foamed from the winds that cut across the icy crests of wandering glaciers. "I don't believe that rock was there last time we came around. Do you, Sugar?"

Jay was not amused by this. Llyr pointed out the same rock, every damn time, after all. But really, wasn't it her fault for asking the same question of them every time?

Yet he kept his gaze on the waves, because there was something different... he just hadn't quite placed what. They knew there would be raiders about, somewhere, but their unit had yet to locate any on this portion of land that they'd been assigned to. Llyr gave a small sigh, and ran his gauntled hand over the braided mane of his horse. A faint scent carried on the wind, that he looked toward because it smelled strangely like... "...Is that smoke?"

From beyond the ridge, to the northern side, a faint plume of blackened mist drifted up from a lower-down portion of coastal land near an array of coves. Coves where, if he recalled the map back at the camp correctly, one of the small fishing villages resided.
OOC
Llyr is currently wearing his ring of paradigm, and in the totem acquired in previous threads linked at top.
Last edited by Llyr Llywelyn on Tue May 31, 2022 11:09 pm, edited 1 time in total. word count: 529
Please — consider me a dream.
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Foxglove
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Re: [Winter Reach] The Cold Dark of Night



Sugar's mount was a rather ornery little madam, a dapple grey with great pennies of dark grey fur on her rear end and a rather rotund midsection. Her dished face and many lashed eyes had once estimated her worth to be a ladies mount, but war, as always, comes first. She was food driven and moody, and maybe she had been given to Sugar because he was a little easy to joke about, with his pinkish peachy hair and his vague connection to normal society, but he had very quickly become bonded to the sturdy pony, with her welsh connemara's face and the little scant feathers along her sure stepping feet - when she listened to him, that was.
"Meimina, I mean it, stop chasing the bracken!" he scolded half-heartedly, patting her neck and trying to guide her head away from the little patch of bracken growing by the side of the road. She tugged her head away from him anyway, totally ignoring his command, which made him smile a little bit. He liked creatures with strong personalities, he was a creature with a strong personality, after all.

Jay made her usual question and Mister gave his usual reply, Fox grinning along and answering "Oooh, new rock." In the exact tone of voice he knew drove Jay crazy, but he was also looking along the coast. In a few short hours they would be under the cover of darkness, something the raiders knew well as it gave them a wonderful advantage to navigating away in the waters with their strong regional knowledge of the area. There must be something new about this place. That little plume of smoke though, that wasn't the kind generated by a camp fire, or even a cook fire. A plume of smoke like that would be coming from a big fire, a house or an old tree or something old and dry - and certainly not intended for burning.

"Oh, man, let's get it." He cried, giving Meimina a little nudge or two, to which she huffed unhappily, but began her little dancing steps down towards the village, following the line of the hill easily. Fox jiggled up and down a little unsettled in his seat, unsure where he would end up. He tried to remember the training Llewelyn had been giving him earlier, leaning back as they headed down hill, but it was honestly better if one of the other two members of their party lead them into combat, as it would take this pink haired fool another minute to clamber off the pony once they had finally made their way down.
word count: 441
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Llyr Llywelyn
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Re: [Winter Reach] The Cold Dark of Night

"Don't-" Jay shouted after the sev'ryn, too late to stop him. "-go running off! What is he doing? We need to go back and report!"

"Oh, let him go. It'll be okay," said Llyr, though he truthfully had no idea if it would be. He offered a hesitant smile to the other recruit and asked, "Why don't you return to report now, and we'll scout for a better idea of what's going on."

Jay squinted, and looked to where the sev'ryn started to disappear over the horizon where the cliffside dipped down toward the coves. A frustrated growl, then she turned her horse around. She headed for the division camp, at a quick trot across the frost-bitten tundra grasses.

It wasn't difficult to catch up with the dapple grey and her rider. Llyr found little trouble with his own horse, Bolt, but then he had a suspicion that Bolt had been through a few riders that had done most of the work for training. He tapped his heels, to encourage a faster gallop while he caught up with Sugar. Barely any time at all, before his mount dashed past the other and he circled around. As usual, he sat tall in the saddle with rigid spine and an ever-present attention that kept track of their surroundings. A deep inhale, as he tried to distinguish the source of smoke, and he it smelt of wood and- nothing good, otherwise. In a way, Llyr already had a feeling what they'd find.

"Stay close to me," he instructed the other man. For as they approached the fishing village together, from along the side where the cliffside rocks shadowed their approach, it was not only smoke that sent alerts. It was the sound of crashing wood, as beams gave way under a house fire, and the muffled sound of shouts underneath the clamber of the house's roof giving way. The blaze had only just started from the look of it, as the frame held mostly intact still.

From the cluster of lodges, he saw another rider - only this one was riding away from the village, and was not in the attire of any Imperial soldier. It became more clear, the closer the other rider got as Llyr approached, that it was likely someone fleeing. The person waved at them - wanting their attention - only for an arrow to dart the expanse and swipe across the rider's side. Enough momentum, and the balance was shook, the horse was spooked and the rider fell off. The horse went running in a different direction, in flight from the shock of it.

Still, a smoky haze covered an easier view of the entire village. Llyr pointed at the fallen rider and spoke over his shoulder, "Change of plans. Stay back and help them get to behind those rocks to the west, if you can." With that said, he charged his horse forward to enter the village - on his lonesome.
word count: 503
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Foxglove
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Re: [Winter Reach] The Cold Dark of Night


So far most of his time and attention had been diverted into controlling the animal, not really riding it with much confidence or skill, but rather hanging on to it's back as it decided the right path to take. Clearly this creature was from mountain stock, they way she gaily leapt from one mossy outcrop to the next, avoiding the texture of the safer path which might have inspired more confidence in her rider. He knew he was headed in the right direction, but he was so busy clinging on to his mount that he didn't really keep an eye on the direction. And he totally ignored the called directions behind him, barely listening to Jay because, well, she was not his master.

When Llewelyn, as he had been instructed to call him, directed him to move with more caution, to stay close, his ears pricked instantly. He knew that direction, he knew that instruction, and so he followed the point quickly. He wanted to please his master, and although there was no real fear, yet, of combat, he wanted to be safer to him, to be closer to him. Already Fox felt safer by Llewelyn's side.

The smoke though, as soon as his eyes focused on it, he started to decode it. His field skills and years of living rough and ready in the forests taught him to diagnose the age of the flickering fire, the weak white smoke was wavering between clouds and a stream, weakly gnawing through the wet material. The sight of the other rider stopped him, who was that then? They looked different, didn't they? Oh! A civillian! That was right! He was in a war now! The person was knocked down and his attention reversed itself in the direction of the arrow. What hunter was this? What were they hunting? He really wasn't sure about it, but pulled his attention fully back onto Llewelyn.
A new direction, ok, he could do that. He headed over towards the fallen rider, glancing only once in the direction of the cantering horse - clearly spooked enough to run to safety, meaning that she was one to follow if it got hairy later.

Pulling Meimina back a little, he crouched lower into the craggy grass, reaching for the fallen stranger. The person had a nasty looking Arrow pointing out of their shoulder, clearly the blow that struck them from the horse. And he was groaning. Private Sugar made a low, soothing sound in the back of his throat, as one would when approaching an injured animal, as he tried to stifle the aching noise the guy was making.
"Hello, hi, erm, come with me quickly and quietly, ok? Over there." He tried to take the lead, but it wasn't easy. The poor guy at first seemed ready to stay laying in the dirt and die, but after a moment he managed to start scrabbling. Fox barely looked where he was going, rushing back to Meimina and taking her reigns, the guy pressing his weight down on Fox, arms slung about his shoulders as the bright haired fool lead them towards the rocks. He heard a noise in the air, as the man waveredon his feet, causing them to slip sideways into a muddy patch. Fox almost lost his grip, but he managed to stop himself just in time. When he looked back, he realised that the arrow had struck the grass barely a foot or more behind them.

"Sheep gonads!" he exclaimed, turning back to the rock. Not what he thought would happen when he left the forest!

Their journey was halting, but deliberate, and with some slow progress. But whatever Llyr was doing was clearly enough to distract the attackers, so that the small group could gather behind the rock. He helped the man sit down, an tried to look at the impaled arrow. It was quickly clear that the item was too much for him to deal with, besides his understanding of arrows had only ever extended to using them as a hunting tool, so he simply broke off the feathered end and helped the man sit down.
"Where did they come from?" he asked the guy, a moment or two after he had given him a moutful of water from his pack.
"From the sea," the man wheezed, really over acting his injury. "Have you any others in your party?" Fox was confused by that question. He shrugged once and then nodded, not sure which response the man wanted.
"I am, er, Sugar, whats your name?" he queried.
"Finlan," the injured man replied. "Can you help my parents? They're still back in the village, we need to get them out."

"I'll work it out," he replied with more confidence than he felt. Fox nodded, looking over the edge of the rock and wondering what he was meant to do next.
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