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 Posted: Fri Aug 25, 2017 7:22 pm
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It had been a particularly boring day -- quiet, peaceful yes -- but boring. The stallion found himself wandering aimlessly, looking for something to occupy his time, and nothing really interesting caught his attention. It was an off day, no need for training, and his parents were too much a day's travel for it to be worth going back there. There weren't many Soquili in the area he found himself in, and so he was left to his own devices. And when left to his own devises, the stallion tended to get a little...antsy. All along the edge of the twisted, untraveled, and thorny forest, scuff marks could be found among the trees, for miles. Left there by the sharp edge of his trusted spear, the stallion couldn't help but swing at anything he could mark, if only to see the damage it caused. The marks weren't thin, seemingly left by a claw to an unsuspecting traveler, and Barristan wondered if anyone would think he was a walker. At first thought, that was bad, bad! He was the good guy!
But then, he realized, if the marks were visible enough, maybe someone would indeed think he was a walker, and go looking for him. That way, this day would turn into something of an adventure. Of course in due time they'd realize he wasn't, but perhaps he could spar with the walker-hunters. They'd share a laugh over Barristan's inability to sit still, and then he'd get to show off his skills as a warrior!! He smiled at the thought, and tore into the tall grass, keeping himself low enough so as to be less noticeable. It was certainly a sight to behold, for his massive draft-horse frame stood far taller than the grass, and even if he laid down his head would peak out. Ah, well, at least they wouldn't see his spear. Removing it from his side and laying it beside him, the stallion lied there and waited for someone to come running (or walking? Maybe walker-hunters didn't want to make themselves noticeable either) by.
...And he waited, and he waited.
....waited...
Zzzzzz...
The sound of something in the distance -- a scream, perhaps? -- startled the stallion awake. He couldn't tell from the immediate reaction time, whether it was in his dreams of it was real, but the words of his father played in his mind, 'you were put on this earth to fight, and protect. It is your duty to look out for those that need it, you cannot fail.' 'Yes, father,' he thought, and got up to investigate the noise. Another scream, this time it was clear it came from the south, and off he ran. The little game he was playing could wait, there were far greater things to take care of now!! He could feel the pride his father had for him beaming in the back of his mind as he made his way to the noises, thinking only of the one who was in need....
~~~~~
An hour had passed, Barristan hadn't found the source of the noise, and worst of it all, he was down a spear.
His spear!!!!!! Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Too engulfed in the possibility of playing hero and turning this boring day into a grand one, Barristan had taken off without first gearing himself. The spear he had taken off as he laid down earlier, was still lying in the same spot, of that he was hoping. He hadn't had time to think when he first heard the scream, and he went to investigate without his weapon! Stupid, stupid...
So north he traveled again, desperately searching every corner of the grassy field as he walked, almost on the verge of calling out to it. A gift from his father, that spear had been the reason he was a skilled fighter; that spear had been the reason he wanted to be a hero. Without it....he was, just Barristan.
In the distance, he noticed a small purple frame, a Soquili, most likely, and his mind snapped into action. Should he call out? Should he ask for help? Maybe the Soquili had seen his spear, and picked it up! Maybe they had just walked by it, unsure of what it was. Oh! There was no time, he was panicking.
"Excuse me!! Have you seen my spear?" He yelled, the ridiculousness of his words completely lost on him.
Lady Argentum Draconis One thing, if it happens to come up -- ICly he only has 1 scar atm, the one on the front of his chest. I want him to get the others through RP!^^ |
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Posted: Fri Aug 25, 2017 8:49 pm
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Posted: Sat Aug 26, 2017 7:43 pm
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Aha! A lucky guess, for the figure he assumed was a Soquili, was indeed one!! He beamed, content with the knowledge that he had judged the situation correctly, and his outburst of panic was not received poorly, for the Soquili was now coming toward him as he her. A million thoughts sprang to his mind as the mare responded to his question, albeit a rather confused response. Barristan frowned, having not given any thought to the prospect that she wouldn't even know what a spear was. It was given to him as a foal, so he knew not life without one...
His father was a warrior in the truest sense of the word, having been raised in captivity as a war-horse for the majority of his life. As a foal he was stolen from his parents, and since then barely given a proper foalhood. From the time he could speak, Grey Worm knew how to use a sword, a dagger, a spear...a shield, any of the weapons that a great warrior would have, he had been trained to master. His captors, his masters, they called themselves, whipped and berated him until he felt nothing but the warrior's heart, blood-for-blood, without question. Grey Worm had no life outside the walls of war, until he was set free, one fateful day. He knew nothing of what the real world, the free world, was like, until he met the beautiful Eloise. She taught him love, life, happiness...everything someone genuinely deserved.
When Barristan and his sister Ellaria were born, Grey Worm couldn't help but feel himself slipping back into his old ways -- the ways of the warrior. He recalled, later on, seeing flashes of the potential future -- his beloved mate, unable to protect herself and their children, killed by forces they knew not of, and it frightened him. Eloise was not violent, in fact she was as innocent as a fleeting bird, and Grey Worm did not want his children to have to rely on him for the rest of their lives. So, like his captors before him, he started them young -- teaching them the ways of the dagger, the sword, the shield. He was of course, more gentle than his masters were to him, but he instilled the same kind of belief, the same kind of ideals; outmatching your opponent was the only thing that mattered. That didn't last long, however, as his children responded to play more than they responded to the art of war. They wanted games -- fun, laughter, goofiness in the purest form of foalhood behavior. They'd poke each other with their practice sticks, giggling and running away as if it was all for fun instead of real training. Grey Worm soon realized the error he had made in judgement -- he was a father, a husband -- not a master. Quickly he adjusted his methods, teaching them to enjoy their training by letting them goof off. Barristan had taken to the spear, Ellaria to the shield, and together they trained with honor, integrity, trust, and above all, love. They were protectors, not killers. They learned to fight with a purpose, not with a vengeance.
Shaking the memories from his mind, Barristan sheepishly grinned at the mare, nodding his head slowly, as if ready to explain his situation. "Yes my spear -- long, skinny, pointy arrow-head on the top. I, erm, well, forgot it, and I left it here somewhere in the grass...," stupid, stupid, stupid, mentally kicking himself, he managed to keep his gaze on the mare, hoping she'd respond positively to what he was saying. It wasn't every day someone came up to you asking if you had seen something as ridiculous as a spear, now was it? He shrugged, the chances were minimal but he had to try. Perhaps she had seen it, and not knowing what it was or what it could do, had left it there for someone else to find.....or perhaps he was simply insane, and she'd leave him to his panic-induced ramblings as soon as she realized. Either way, again, he had to try.
As they approached each other, and he was close enough to take in the sight of her, he managed a much friendly, happier stature and he gave her a quick nod of a hello. She was pretty, but....that was the last thing on his mind.
"Sorry, just needed to ask, you're the first I've seen. It's kind of an important item, and erm....I need it?" He tore his gaze from her then, eyeing the ground beneath their hooves, hoping to get lucky and spot the shining arrow-head in the bright sunlight. Unfortunately for the two of them, the grass was tall, and the likelihood of randomly coming across an item that stood barely a few itches off the ground, was incredibly minuscule. But again, it never hurt to try.
"It was a gift from my father, you see, and he'd be sorely disappointed to hear that I lost it....," Barristan trailed off, feeling empty without the spear attached to his side. How could he have gotten so far, and not felt the metal as it hit his body, running to the earlier sound? It was his life! How stupid....how incredibly stupid...
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Posted: Sat Aug 26, 2017 9:52 pm
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If he could reach his mouth, he'd have put his hoof in it, as the mare's words hit him like a ton of bricks. One of a more....gallant nature, Barristan fancied himself a kind, gentle warrior, and here he was, undermining the intelligence of a stranger; of a mare, no-less! He frowned at himself, disappointed that he had assumed, but also still panicked about the missing weapon. Perhaps in his current state, any missteps and crass behavior could be chalked up to his distress -- yes, he'd be going with that. A true warrior is kind, his mother's voice whispered in his mind, and he frowned again. There was just no winning this, was there?
"Oh, of course, I'm sorry. I didn't think --," he stammered, flicking his tail wildly, a nervous habit he'd never been able to shake. He'd eyed her again, then, noticing the saddle upon her back. What was it that his father had said? His captors had made most of them wear saddles, and here she was, adorned in just that. If she knew what a spear was, and wore a saddle, perhaps she was something of a warrior herself? He mentally grinned at the thought, although his outward appearance gave none of that away. He was still stammering from his blatant disregard for her intelligence, and feeling the embarrassment that came with it. Watching her move her gaze to the ground as well, he continued to search, hoping, praying for a flicker of something. She was kind, this mare, to bother stopping and offering to help, and he was mentally stumbling around, think of a way to thank her. They eyeballed the ground in silence for a few moments, until the bird that was on her back spoke.
His head perked up, wondering for a moment what the two of them were planning. The idea was not something he'd have thought of on his own, having no wings or familiars of his own, so he stood for a moment confused, and then it hit him. "Yes!!" His face had given way to an expression of excitement, as the bird was much more able to find the shininess of the tip much faster than either of them could. But how long would it take? Was there something he could give the bird to help ----!!!
"Wait! I umm.....," he looked at the mare, careful and hopeful that his next words would not give cause for her to judge him. If she was a warrior like himself or his father, perhaps she'd think his stupid childish game from earlier was just that, a stupid childish game, and she'd leave him. Perhaps she'd tell her bird to forget it, and he'd be back to square one. After a long pause, his pride had lost the battle with logic, and he continued, "I was marking the trees along the edge of the thorny forest earlier. My spear might be at the end, where the marks stop." He didn't dare tell either of them that he had been marking for hours, miles, and that he didn't know how long it would be until the bird came to the spot where the marks ended. But he nudged his head to the nearby trees, and sure enough there were marks, still clear as day. "See those marks?" Hmm, oops. Duh... Another mental grin. If he had thought of that originally, he'd have never asked this mare and her bird for help, but again, he wasn't going to say that out loud...he quite enjoyed the help. Plus, with the company he kept, perhaps today wasn't going to be so boring after all.
Once the bird - Adela - had disappeared, Barristan turned his attention to the mare. "I didn't think she was rude? You two are helping me, that's far more polite than most of these creatures," the awkward tone and demeanor had returned, now that he was alone with a mare, and minus his weapon. It had given him the confidence he needed in battle, and without it he didn't quite feel the same brave, gallant stallion he usually was. Now he was just goofy Barristan, a point-blank copy of his grandfather, as his mother used to say. Unsure of how to react to the situation, he tore his gaze downward, and at the right moment, caught a glimpse of her claw as it poked through the grass. He blinked, and refocused. Yes, that was there.
"Is that a weapon?"
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Posted: Sun Jun 10, 2018 4:17 pm
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They were both doing a horrible job at not taking the blame for the situation, weren't they? He sighed; anticipating that if he were to apologize for causing her to feel bad, it would continue a vicious cycle until the bird came back with the spear. And well, who wanted that! So he held his tongue, despite the desire to make her feel less guilty rising in his chest at rapid speed, and instead gave a soft, simple chuckle. "Ah, but if I was a walker, you should be short with me, correct?," he managed, hoping it would at least diffuse the tension they may both have felt. Conversations were a skill his mother had mastered, and as his father lacked greatly, Barristan sat somewhere in the middle. He guessed it depended upon the situation.
And he had made this one awkward!!
He was happier with himself as the conversation switched from his spear to her leg-spikes, as he stared at them in awe while she talked. His father had only really exposed his sister and him to the larger set of weapons the world had to offer - even as a foal he was practicing on full-fledged spears and swords. To see something so small, so...simple, and yet, so potentially dangerous was enthralling. She could really cause some harm with that, and being a mare, she was even more of a surprise -- no one would expect a claw at the bottom of a mare's foot! Or...was he being sexist? His sister's voice rang through his head, blah blah blah mares are just as strong as stallions blahblahblah; yes he was definitely being sexist. He frowned, shaking off those thoughts before he spoke.
"It's clever! Although, do you ever get poked with it?" It was a dumb question, but it was out before he could control himself, and his cheeks began to beat red as he remembered his foalhood -- and a certain accident that caused the two large scars across his chest. "You know, sometimes it just happens...," the stallion mumbled, turning his gaze upward to look the mare in the face. He was immediately drawn to her eyes; they were a friendly, welcoming shade (whatever that meant; he blinked at his own description) and he felt like he could look into them for a good chunk of time and not get bored. Barristan smiled, hoping the weird thoughts he was currently having were not written all over his face, and that their conversation stayed mostly within a comfortable, non-creepy level. It would be just like him to make it worse....
"I wish my father had thought of those when I was younger," Barristan gestured to his own front legs, one of which was adored with armor, the other, a broken chain. His father had loved both of his children very, very much, but his methods of training were quite odd, so the explanation for both pieces was well, interesting. "It would have been neat to grow up with a claw! Maybe that way, I'd have never lost it, and we'd never be in this mess. Or um, I mean, I'd never be in this mess. And I'd never drag you into it, you know, because it's not your mess, you're just helping and....."
Stop talking.
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Posted: Wed Jul 18, 2018 3:12 pm
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By the way she reacted to the slightly off-handed joke about the walker, Barristan could tell he hit a bit of a sore spot; she had reacted with such seriousness...not exactly what he was expecting. Ah, well, he supposed walkers were never a joking matter, so that was completely his fault. A split decision later, and he left that part of the conversation where it should have started - dead.
He listened to her quick little tale of her parent's traditions and her history with her spikes, and realized, with pleasure, that she was raised to be a true warrior -- much like he and his sister. There was little room for him to have been anything else, and by the sound of it, her foalhood was the same. Had Barristan ended up with a different job, or a different path in life, his father may have had a fit. He silently wondered if it was the same with her father. If she had been hurt as a foal via the spikes, just as he with the spear, certainly there was no other option for her, either. It was warriorhood, or nothing. Or maybe she enjoyed it...maybe she chose it.
"Family traditions are fascinating, so it is great to hear you're so familiar with yours! My mother's side are not warriors, even by a long shot, so I think that is where I get my forgetfulness. My grandfather is the most gentle stallion there is," Barristan sighed as he paused, reveling in how easy it was to talk to this mare. He should be more guarded of the things that mattered to him - like family and trade secrets of weaponry, but, he couldn't quite help himself. This was the most he'd ever given away in such a short time.
It felt...normal.
Shaking away the feeling of awkwardness that crept it's way back into his body, Barristan followed the mare's gaze up to the sky, also scanning for the bird Adela. He was immediately torn....when the bird came back with his weapon, he'd be safe, and he'd be free of embarrassment from his father. Yet, once the bird returned, would this mare leave? He didn't want to stop this conversation, no matter how strange it was.
He could barely remember what he had been doing prior to this meeting.
"I think it would be neat to have a partner in crime, like you with the bird...," a mumble of words, not necessarily directed at the mare, and not necessarily going in any direction; his voice just spoke the words he thought without realizing it. He absentmindedly wondered if the partner in question would be as good a warrior as he, or a scout moreso...
And then his thoughts were torn into a completely different direction, as something else dawned on him. They'd never exchanged names! Both of them had been so focused on the task at hand, that the simplest thing had gone straight out the window. Oh! Barristan pondered for a moment, hesitating with his words before deciding it was worth it. "My name is Barristan, by the way. I'm embarrassed it took me this long to say it," he could feel his father's angry stare as if he was here, for giving away one's name so freely was, for lack of a better term, foolish. Grey Worm was proud of his name, for it was the name he had when he obtained his freedom, but to share it so willingly was never something he'd approve of. Eloise, on the other hand, would have beamed at her son -- names were a part of you, and to claim them was the greatest thing you could do with them. Barristan sighed, sometimes thinking about his parents was like having an angel on one shoulder, and a devil on the other. "My father wouldn't have approved of that, but that's my name," he finally shrugged.
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Posted: Wed Jul 18, 2018 6:48 pm
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She gave a short laugh. "Technically my parents are inventing their own. You see rather than be entered into an arranged marriage with a mare several years his junior, my father decided that tradition and responsibility and family values could go do unspeakable things to themselves and bolted. He made a living as a warrior for hire for awhile until one day he accidentally ran into my mother who'd gone looking for him instead of marry his elder brother and well...turns out the matchmakers were right and they did in fact belong together." she shook her head amused. "So our family and herd are divorced from either's roots and really a mixed bag of occasionally conflicting traditions and I remember a lot of arguments between my parents about who's training, celebrations and what not should trump who's." she made an amused sound. "At least the core values are the same."
As he recounted his own heritage she wondered how hard it was to grow up in a mixed family like that. Had he ever wanted to be more like his mother and grandfather but had felt it was his duty as his father's son to pursue the same path? Thinking back on it had her parents forced her to take up training and determined that she had to be like them? Not really...training had been presented as games to start out with for her and her siblings. Weave in and out of these obstacles as fast as possible for a treat, run as fast as you can to the other side of camp and back again, jump as high as you can over this log, kick the sand bag...it hadn't really dawned on them until later that they'd been building up to learning how to fight and at that point she supposed if any of them hadn't wanted to learn they could of...not. There would have been disappointment of course but there were other paths in life. Her parents understood that...she thought anyway. They'd let her leave on her journey after all and they most definitely could have not let her do that. "That must be...hard." she heard herself say and she looked up to meet those eyes again. "I grew up around fighters and even those that weren't were still fiery enough to stand up to any threat no matter how big or small. I just...can't imagine having two so very different ideals on either side of me." she gave him a sympathetic look hoping she hadn't just made some horrible assumptions about his family and he was about to get angry with her but then again he seemed almost wistful about his mother's side.
She looked up again scanning for Adela and snorted at his comment. "Pain in my rump is more like it." she said with a touch of annoyance, not at him of course. "Think's she's so great because she can fly and doesn't get stuck in thorn bushes or trip over unseen roots in the dark and can see suuuuch a long ways a way..." she snorted and then sighed. "She does make travel a lot less lonely though..." honestly Ruada couldn't remember the last time she'd had an actual conversation with anyone who wasn't Adela. Definitely not anyone she'd had so much in common with. Even though they'd just met she felt a sense of comaradrie with this stallion. Even the awkward moments didn't feel quite as awkward as they should have been with someone else.
She looked back at him and blinked. In all this time standing here and talking about families and training they really hadn't exchanged names! Granted she'd gotten wary enough to not always give her name at first but still now realizing it it did feel like a crime that she hadn't given him her name. "Wow, we really did miss that step didn't we." she smiled and gave a little head bob. "Well it's a pleasure, Barristan. I'm Ruada Flew." she then had to laugh and moved close enough to give him a playful nudge. "Well, I find the older I get the less and less I worry about what my father thinks on some things." she gave him a bigger smile.
Just then there was a sound of heavy flapping above their heads followed by a snort. "I see you two are getting along, famously while I'm out there working my tail feathers off. Watch out now." and down between the two fell the missing spear.
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