Member
Lewascan2
Retribution
Lurking Krog
Guardian Angel Haruki
SleepingSilence
Neziul
PacificRanger
LadyRunic
Veilsight
X Fiendfyre X
"Be quick and return as soon as you can. Once we find a good place to hide, closer to the city, I will return to this spot to meet you, to bring you to our camp." her brow furrowed slightly in worry for the man who'd been killed once already in this world. "Please... be careful."
A playful smirk dancing upon his lips the southerner leaned off the saddle a bit "Do I detect a tiny something other than concern in that sweet little voice o' yours Mac?" chuckling he gave his understandably worried friend a wink "Haha, ah don't give me no looks little lady I'll take care so long as y'all take care too."
"If you are sure you can make it then I will take your word for it, I will just ask you to tell them to send a message to Fornost, doubt they can do anything to help us but they may be hit next" A thought entered his mind and after a moment of hesitation he vocalized it "And, if you have the opportunity you should try to find mercenaries, the land is ripe with war so you may be able to stumble on a company, here, is not much but it may be useful to you" He handed the other man his money pouch.
"Hm, Fore-nost huh?" the jingling pouch of coin softly clinked, catching it in one hand he turned the money pouch over in his rough hands before fashioning it to his side "Thank ye kindly it'll do." with that Clive clicked his tongue, rearing his ethereal steed the southerner saluted his allies before being carried off into the land on a steed that shimmered disappearing over the horizon.
* * *
A plain pouch of jingling coin at the mavericks side, winds howling as if through the gaps of an old rickety shutter it whipped and snapped this way and that blew the riders hair to and fro. He leaned forward upon the saddle squinting, one hand held an ethereal chord that he whipped lightly to drive the ghostly specter of his beloved horse forth.
Daisy's hooves beat beneath him like the thunderous crack heralding a flash of lightning, she moved like no other horse the southerner ever knew - Daisy always had the making of a true race horse but Clive had always been too modest to enter her into them big horse shows back in the south.
A slight smile teased the sides of his mouth as memories of home and family washed over him and yet filled him with a melancholy that he couldn't shake. Clive missed his family, and his life but he was thankful to whatever God was out there he still drew breath.
* * *
Over the quiet stillness of the village, with it's straw roofed domiciles and rough stonework hovels the sky painted a soft orange over the horizon as the sun slowly fell but off in the distance a black smoke drifted, an ill omen that filled the weathered old alderman with a sense of deep foreboding.
Whispers in the air of gathered folk creased the old man's wrinkled face, men and womenfolk tittered of something broiling as the town gathered babes crying in their mothers arms Ormund tried to keep the images from his mind of blood and steel, death and fire. Quiet fell once more though, something was coming over the horizon.
* * *
Ormund heard the hushed whispers around him, the elder couldn't believe his eyes “By the quintity,” the village elder croaked, holding close to the walking stick he held in his shaking hands “Who are you.” nobody not a single man, woman or child uttered a word a mixture of superstitious folk backed away at the sight of the ghost the mysterious horseman rode.
“Who I am ain't important right now,” the man said, he looked a though he had just rode from battle his arms and chest bare covered in dirt and scars with eyes that were both soft and steely “Get your horses, gather your god dang men and ride far and fast cause war has come and Valhiem is under attack.” the voices of the village folk began to slowly grow, Ormund stammered rasping and hushing the growing panic.
“Send word to ‘Fore-nost’ that the city needs men, women whoever the hell can fight cause Valheim is burning as we speak.” the horseman untied a pouch from his side and threw it into the village elders hands “Ya'll don't look like the fighting type, but whoever can lift a pitchfork an’ carry a hoe should raise their arms to defend their country.”
The stranger reared his ethereal steed, causing the spirit to whinny and shake its mane “Oh the name’s Clive, Clive Michel.” and without another word he whipped the reigns of his steed disappearing into the sunset leaving the villagers and Ormund in astonishment and disbelief.
“Get Cass,” the old man rasped rapping his stick against the ground “Get the boys now, and send word to Fornost.” hush fell over the gathered folk for a moment as if they couldn't move “NOW!” the elder shouted. If war had come to the city it surely wouldn't be long before it came to them and he wouldn't stand by and do nothing.
* * *
Fortunately there was no trouble in the amount of time it took to first hear, then catch sight of the Texan, coming down the road toward her. She hopped down from the branch and walked out into the road to greet him with a smile.
"How did it go?" she asked, hoping he would fill her in on the details. Once he dismissed his steed back into the non-existance, she would be ready to lead him back through the hills to their camp.
“As well as you might expect from folk who have only ever lifted a pitchfork and worked a field…We'll have to see anyway hope you didn't wait too long for little old me missy.” the southerner smirked following her back to the camp where the others were.