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Post by ashlon on Jul 25, 2019 2:13:33 GMT -5
The path at his feet lead into the darkness of the woods, gently undulating with the forest floor, and somewhere at the end are the answers Ashlon seeks. There were only small sounds of rustling leaves and the howl of the wind in the forest, yet his mind thundered, his imagination ignited as he pondered his future.
The path has led him through Hek’Cruica, Viktoria and along the Maion River, winding and twisting over hill and valley like a carelessly discarded belt. The outline of Innorsford approaches, Ashlon bottles his anxiety as the city seems so foreign to Cahalia. He has no thoughts for yesterday or tomorrow. He only knows this journey ends is Innorsford and a new one starts right after.
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Post by Azuloth on Aug 9, 2019 8:32:25 GMT -5
A hawk circles overhead. It stares down at Ashlon as he makes his way along the river. From its vantage point he appeared to be little more than a mouse, moving along a small rivulet of runoff. As it came down from its heights and its binocular vision focused, it saw the man for sure. It turned off to find a field and easy prey. Nothing of interest here.
Ice floes moved down the river now and again. Its banks were wide apart at this point where Ashlon walked, a mile, maybe more. It was hard to gauge as it wound.
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Post by ashlon on Aug 13, 2019 23:56:36 GMT -5
Ashlon notes the circling hawk gently gliding amongst the clouds, its wings riding the uplift of thermals silhouetting itself against the sun filled heaven. They're like children of the sky, free spirited, not a care in the world, a perfect opposite to his current state of mind.
Ashlon moves forward, his path determined as the hawk to catch his prey, he is equally vigilant on his conviction and presses on towards Innorsford.
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Post by Azuloth on Aug 20, 2019 11:49:23 GMT -5
It is a few hours before he approaches the town. Following along the river, then crossing to the highway as it becomes available. The winter snows impedes his progress. No one has been clearing the roads regularly now that winter is in full swing. The country seems to be in a deadlock. No one passes him by on the road, no one comes looking for him from afar. Solitude. Once he arrives at the town things seem more hopeful, he can see its silhouette ahead of him. Its gates are open, there are guards watching it. They seem bored, but alert.
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Post by ashlon on Aug 24, 2019 23:18:00 GMT -5
It’s the type of coldness that infused a chill straight to the bone, movement was the only option to repel the grasp of winter’s cold grip. Ashlon pushes forward carving a trail in the white blanked countryside, each of his footsteps crunching through the icy snow acting like melodic drum silencing the solace and distancing the past
A deep icy breath signifies encouragement as the town materializes before him, the dense forest and snow covered hills transforming into the city, and the gates will soon be upon him as he drives ahead.
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Post by Azuloth on Sept 10, 2019 12:33:23 GMT -5
"Halt, state your business."
One of the guards says as Ashlon approaches. He looks cold in his armor. Frost is forming on the plates of the shoulder pauldrons, vambraces, and greaves. His weapon is being clutched hard in his left hand. The glaive is taller than him, but he seems to wield it well. The other soldier seems to be less concerned, but looks Ashlon up and down all the same. He signals someone on the other side of the gate. A refurbished set of great doors. Currently they are partially open, enough for that soldier to see through, but no one else. The wall around the town was a palisade, completed. It had the beginning foundations of a curtain wall, but no work had been begun yet. The gate would most certainly be first.
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Post by ashlon on Dec 2, 2019 19:32:56 GMT -5
His hands longed for the warmth of the sun or even his pockets, yet he held them up high beside his head despite the stiffness from the cold, clearly showing the guards that he poses no threat. He confidently says “Greetings.. This winter has been especially cold for us all! I’ve traveled for many days to get here each as unforgiving as today!” He pats off snow from his shoulders and slowly puts his hands down as he continues “and therefore I am here two things.. a tavern to warm my body and belly, and the means of severing the Dark Elf’s head from her cowardly shoulders!” He smiles with a genuine grin spread across his face, but as easily as it was said, inside he fights the inner emotions, longing to return to who he was, but the flashbacks and anger take their toll, apathetically replaying the massacre in Cahalia over and over again, it washes over him like heavy snow drifts on the plains, the stifling weight of white mounds slowly building atop him driving him to the breaking point. He unbroken smile continues at the guards, revealing nothing, no sadness, no joy or resentment, his presence at the gates reflects confidence, urgency and stoicism.
He asks the guard bowing slightly, “I would be grateful for passage and a recommendation of that tavern”
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