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| Hunted; P: Barus | |
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| Topic Started: Sep 23 2008, 07:57 AM (111 Views) | |
| Thoril | Sep 23 2008, 07:57 AM Post #1 |
The Half-Blood
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Sounds of conflict echo over the plain. A small battle between hunter and prey, a fight to the death. However, the prey isn't like most prey...it's not used to getting hunted. The leopard roars, angry yet afraid. Wrestling the powerful killer to the ground, the half-orc wraps a muscled arm around the beast's throat. His free hand grasps his wrist and he pulls tight. The large cat struggled and fought, scratching as best it could, until the life left it, leaving in short, pained gasps of air. Finally, the hunt is finished and the tired half-blood pushes the creature away. Several cuts mark his arms and chest, but they are shallow and would heal in a few days. At least now he could enjoy a meal, despite the cold wilderness. It had been several days he'd been tracking his prey, one of the few animals that traversed the land between The Yseulte and eastern lands of Gramarye. Luck would have it that the beast didn't pay his pursuer any mind until the bitter end. The fire crackled, fighting against the chill and the darkness of night. Bits of fat dripped into the flame, causing it to pop every so often. The carcass of the leopard rested to the left of the fire, cut open and bits of its tough meat adorned upon a stick to cook. Thoril chewed on a piece of bread as he waited for the meal to finish. His cloak was wrapped tightly around him with a blanket over that, doubling the warmth. It would take a few more days of travel till he could find a town or city. Even then, he wasn't guaranteed comfort. The half-orc wouldn't exactly be welcomed like any other visitor. Hatred ran deep and far. Fighting against decades of bitter feelings was unfair for him, but what could he do? Thoril had no home with the orcs, that was clear by the usurping that occurred. Thoril bit into a piece of meat, chewing leisurely as he stared at the flame. "Tough...gritty...not bad though." The half-orc felt somewhat at peace with the vast emptiness around him. Nature had always been a welcoming retreat from the harsh lifestyle of the orcish tribes. Despite being more civilized than the more feral bands that dotted the mountain range, those in Arangoth were still a bitter sort. He wondered if he could find a fitting place in the world...perhaps not with humans, but at least somewhere. "Tck, stupid thoughts," he griped and stood up, pushing the blanket off. Thoril chucked the remainder of his morsel into the fire. The urge to take a short walk around his little camp came over him. Despite feeling a tad peaceful, he was also uneasy. The land was still dangerous and he had no weapons, only his two fists and they may not be enough. Paranoia drove him away from the fire to look around and secure his feelings of safety. With careful foot-steps, he disappeared into the darkness, having learned much from his long hunt. The half-orc wasn't a loud, thumping fool like most would believe. |
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Decription Inventory "Face me and fall!" | |
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| Barus | Sep 23 2008, 08:16 AM Post #2 |
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Commoner
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Barus had been walking in the cold. The fresh air helped to clear his mind from daily thoughts. He had been thinking of friends from back home, in the land of the Geats now forgotten to history. His hood was drawn up on his cloak as he walked along a old game trail that hunters had used to use. His blood red travel cloak was tattered at the ends and covered in dust from a long road. He heard a nose coming just from over the brink of the next hill an immediately dropped down to a knee to make hismelf smaller. The noise was horrific as he listened. Something was getting killed thats all he knew, but the noise was getting on his nerves. Just as soon as he heard it had stopped. "What the bloody hell be that i wonder." He spoke quietly as he crept up to the top of the hill. He peeked over to see a snow leapord on a spit and a crackling fire. He saw no weapons and no person. "Okay either it was a good amount of people who took that big thing down or one really really big person." His trained eyes caught footprints in the faint dust. Apparently whatever was there was now gone. His stomach grumbled hungrily as he smelled the still cooking meat. "Gods be damn im hungry." The man named Barus said as he plopped down on his arse. "I wonder if whoever be owning that fire willing to be sharing some grub." He spoke plainly his ears attuned for footsteps. The locale fawna had stopped bickering and it made him slightly worried. He began to whistle a old marching tune from his military days. As he waited feeling eyes on him from the animals and something else. He pulled his cloak tighter around him and let his hood fall revealing his silver hair and neatly trimmed goatee. "Ai I'd be wishin' for whoever is watchin just to be coming out for a chat, I won't bite much." He smiled as he looked around giving off a very feral and in away frightening look that made most men quail away from him. |
Reise Reise by Rammstein-My theme Longsword Mage Shield Plate Helm Plate Chest Plate Arms Plate Gauntlets Plate Leggings Plate Boots
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| Thoril | Sep 26 2008, 12:02 AM Post #3 |
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The Half-Blood
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Thoril grinned as the man spoke, aware of a presence but not the exact location. The half-orc kept to the shadows, not wanting to reveal himself quite yet. It was still too dangerous and he had yet to acquire an adequate weapon. His two fists could do only so much against someone armed...if he got the jump on him, the story might be different. "Hmph," he grunted, letting himself be known. "Move into the light," the half-blood commanded, his voice deep and rough, carrying a distinct accent one would known of if ever dealt with the orcs of The Yeustle. As he awaited for the human to obey his request, he stayed crouched down in the tall brush. There hardly seemed to be a lick of life across the plain. Small creatures hid quickly when bigger ones passed. So far, only the leopard came to his sight during his travel. The absence of life wasn't too disturbing, however, for where he lived was no different. The jagged slopes and bitter cold made it difficult for most things to survive. He eased closer to the camp, keeping ever quiet in the darkness as he looked to observe the stranger. "What do you want? Just a wanderer, drawn to the flame like a moth? Perhaps you're a hunter, seeking big game, yes?" Thoril circled around to the opposite side of the camp, staying just outside the reach of the fire's light. "Should you hunger, there is plenty of food to go around...Don't mind that I put the effort of killing the beast and that you have just come along to a free meal." His words could of been taken as a joke, but his tone was hard to understand, leaving it up to chance. The half-orc didn't mind to share, as long as it meant peace and not another battle he'd have to fight. For the time, he wasn't exactly in a mood for any more battles. The half-orc stepped closer to the fire, feeling the cold of the plain seeping into his bones and forcing him to seek warmth. Finally, the light revealed him for what he was; a powerful looking man with a distinct orcish look though it seemed a bit softened. He wrapped himself with his cloak, dark eyes glued to the stranger. "I am Thoril...speak your name, unless Stranger suits you fine enough." |
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Decription Inventory "Face me and fall!" | |
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4:45 PM Mar 20
