RPM
Fading Memory
Iracebeth
Not a Sayan
Neziul
Fetzen
Xaltwind
VeilsightYeah, everyone's young, you have to expect short backstories.
I assume that the very last sentence in my post was correct.
I assume that the very last sentence in my post was correct.
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Alphonse had never been a hunter and was the last person to ever notice any of the tracks, no matter how deep in the mud they were. He passed around his ale skin to any who would take it; it was the most he could display his merry disposition in a setting that required silence.
When they looked out over the valley, and Gale pointed out a cabin, like anyone in the group had missed spotting it. Grendel wasted no time to start down the hill to reach the place, and Alphonse was inclined to agree with him. It felt right, the foreignness that had invaded his mind was stronger than ever, even if it was keeping silent now. He didn't stop to question whether he wanted a foreign entity in his mind or not, but chimed in, since they were talking now.
"I reckon ole Gren likes the look of that place. You know, I've walked out this way a few times, I've never seen that cabin before. Maybe we should take a look after all?"
He started down the hill as well, but where Gren was heading right for one of the flooded out sections of the valley, he headed north to move around them. It wasn't the shortest route, but it wasn't the longest either. While he didn't have to wade or swim, he was sloshing through mud most of the way. But his boots were already soaked and muddy, so he had no qualms with getting a little more on them. Maybe he'd be a bit taller for the mud caked under his feet.
Alph arrived shortly before Gren, owing to his longer strides and brisker pace, and looked back to the line of his companions in the various ways they chose to come in.
He abandoned the pretense of hunting and called back across the valley to all of them. "Think anyone's home?" He knocked on the door. There was no answer.
When they looked out over the valley, and Gale pointed out a cabin, like anyone in the group had missed spotting it. Grendel wasted no time to start down the hill to reach the place, and Alphonse was inclined to agree with him. It felt right, the foreignness that had invaded his mind was stronger than ever, even if it was keeping silent now. He didn't stop to question whether he wanted a foreign entity in his mind or not, but chimed in, since they were talking now.
"I reckon ole Gren likes the look of that place. You know, I've walked out this way a few times, I've never seen that cabin before. Maybe we should take a look after all?"
He started down the hill as well, but where Gren was heading right for one of the flooded out sections of the valley, he headed north to move around them. It wasn't the shortest route, but it wasn't the longest either. While he didn't have to wade or swim, he was sloshing through mud most of the way. But his boots were already soaked and muddy, so he had no qualms with getting a little more on them. Maybe he'd be a bit taller for the mud caked under his feet.
Alph arrived shortly before Gren, owing to his longer strides and brisker pace, and looked back to the line of his companions in the various ways they chose to come in.
He abandoned the pretense of hunting and called back across the valley to all of them. "Think anyone's home?" He knocked on the door. There was no answer.
Shove some extra blades on the end of her tail?
Have some enchanted metal tips on her horns?
Have some enchanted metal tips on her horns?
Tiny Anger!
So I think it goes without saying that Alph is going to be a spellsinger. He's probably going to be an enchanter. Demund can make their swords, and Alph can put some cool magic in them. It'd be a good partnership, and we could go directions there with the two of them trying to learn the secrets of Rider swords, from both a physical and a magical angle.
So I think it goes without saying that Alph is going to be a spellsinger. He's probably going to be an enchanter. Demund can make their swords, and Alph can put some cool magic in them. It'd be a good partnership, and we could go directions there with the two of them trying to learn the secrets of Rider swords, from both a physical and a magical angle.
@Ceta de Cloyes How do you mean for our characters to learn the Ancient Language and magic? We don't have a mentor like Eragon did, unless you have something planned.
I could say that Alph knows a little from his travels, and picks some more up from deciphering the letters, but that might be kind of a stretch.
Do you have an idea already?
I ask because I mean for Alph to be pretty heavily magic based, probably a very creative spellcaster if I can manage.
I could say that Alph knows a little from his travels, and picks some more up from deciphering the letters, but that might be kind of a stretch.
Do you have an idea already?
I ask because I mean for Alph to be pretty heavily magic based, probably a very creative spellcaster if I can manage.
"If I had known you were bringing your horse," he paused a moment in thought, "Well, I still would have left mine behind. If she doesn't rest she'll probably die out there."
He glanced down at Gale's axe, and patted his own dagger, "I also see you're better armed than me, but I figured if I put even one more chip in that sword Demund would skin me alive and make a new scabbard for it out of my hide. Lead the way, Ga..."
He trailed off with his hand pointing across the bridge from Mashal, his eyes glassed over. Another strange unbidden thought was coming in. He was having trouble making the words out, just as before, but the foreignness of the thought was more prominent than ever.
He took a step across the bridge, as if he were going to take the lead instead, but stopped, and turned back to smile at the others, as if they were the ones holding things up.
"Come on!"
He glanced down at Gale's axe, and patted his own dagger, "I also see you're better armed than me, but I figured if I put even one more chip in that sword Demund would skin me alive and make a new scabbard for it out of my hide. Lead the way, Ga..."
He trailed off with his hand pointing across the bridge from Mashal, his eyes glassed over. Another strange unbidden thought was coming in. He was having trouble making the words out, just as before, but the foreignness of the thought was more prominent than ever.
He took a step across the bridge, as if he were going to take the lead instead, but stopped, and turned back to smile at the others, as if they were the ones holding things up.
"Come on!"
He's still gonna.
Yeah, that got kinda dark.
"The bridge?" Alph was quipping again, "Looking for a troll to kiss?"
As the others started to disperse, Alphonse turned towards home as well, only to stop and stand very still very suddenly.
"RELEASE ME FROM THIS PRISON!"
The feeling was strong, but the words were faint. He couldn't make heads or tails of exactly what that was, and brushed it off as an artist's fancy as he continued on his way. Perhaps it was the beginning of a song he didn't realize he was writing yet.
A sword would do him no good in the woods, so he left it in his room at his grandfather's, and replaced it with a knife. He didn't own a bow, so he grabbed a skin full of Old Alph's Ale to bring with them. If he couldn't help with the hunting, he would have to make them glad of his presence in another way. With those, he went to the bridge in question, strode halfway across it and leaned on the railing as he waited for the others.
As the others started to disperse, Alphonse turned towards home as well, only to stop and stand very still very suddenly.
"RELEASE ME FROM THIS PRISON!"
The feeling was strong, but the words were faint. He couldn't make heads or tails of exactly what that was, and brushed it off as an artist's fancy as he continued on his way. Perhaps it was the beginning of a song he didn't realize he was writing yet.
A sword would do him no good in the woods, so he left it in his room at his grandfather's, and replaced it with a knife. He didn't own a bow, so he grabbed a skin full of Old Alph's Ale to bring with them. If he couldn't help with the hunting, he would have to make them glad of his presence in another way. With those, he went to the bridge in question, strode halfway across it and leaned on the railing as he waited for the others.
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