Artur Corbett
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Was he drawn to chaos by some instinctive, elemental need to tame it and put it in its place? As a man of order and principle, Artur certainly seemed to choose to live a life steeped in turmoil and unknown factors. Though plenty of his time was spent behind a desk, quill set in calloused hand, there was never too much time passed before he was back on the road with his lively retinue, addressing the multitude of unforeseen issues the barony might present to them.
That cool, crisp evening had them on a sweep of a small wooded area. The collection of copses had been subject to rumor recently of unknown figures stalking the trees that the suspicious and paranoid locals had, of course, dubbed as 'nefarious' in appearance (though not one had actually caught a proper glimpse). It was typically a quiet and untroubled piece of land and, frankly, it was secluded and inconsequential, but Artur was not somebody who could simply ignore concerns and complaints when they came from the people he considered the foundation of their barony. Even a token presence could make all the difference in how they viewed his brother's leadership.
The sweep was a slimly manned one with only a couple of his men (well, one was a woman) spread out between the trees. They covered more ground by spacing themselves widely, but always remained within the distance of a sharp whistle should they run into trouble. In the branches above them, the urvogel circled in broad arches. Though not as capable at reasoning as their flightless handlers below, they were clever animals taught to identify oddities and recognize threats.
It was Otis that alerted Artur with his whistle and chirrup, though he seemed uncertain if he should be whistling for discovery or whistling for threat. In the indecisive, blended sound that ensued, the man did catch the short sequence of clicks that indicated person. Humanoid. That was enough to have him quickly turning off the narrow and insubstantial dirt path and rushing in the direction that Otis had perched himself and was still chirping proudly from.
In the dying light of the evening, Artur had to focus to spot the dark feathers of the urvogel, but once it was in his sights he followed the trunk of the tree down to the figure huddled against it. His gloved hand hovered over the pommel of his sword, ready to grip the hilt and unsheathe the weapon should the situation call for it, but it took only half a second for him to realize that the collapsed figure was unmoving. A second longer to notice the bloom of darkness on their garb that was assuredly blood.
Releasing his weapon, he pushed through the thicket towards them with a newfound impetus. Someone was hurt. "Sir! Are you consc-" Oh, but it wasn't a sir, as he came close enough to kneel by the huddled and bloodied figure. A woman. "Shit, I mean Miss. Are you conscious?"
Though hardly a doctor, the man had seen enough of his companions injured to know better than to try to move her right away without first assessing her injuries, and that would be done a lot more efficiently if she were awake to assist him. In preparation, he slid his satchel over his shoulder and set it in the damp leaves beside him. Otis continued to make a fuss in the branches above them, quickly joined by his brother, Otto, who quietly stared at the pair of humans below with a focused, beady eye.
Rooney Morae
That cool, crisp evening had them on a sweep of a small wooded area. The collection of copses had been subject to rumor recently of unknown figures stalking the trees that the suspicious and paranoid locals had, of course, dubbed as 'nefarious' in appearance (though not one had actually caught a proper glimpse). It was typically a quiet and untroubled piece of land and, frankly, it was secluded and inconsequential, but Artur was not somebody who could simply ignore concerns and complaints when they came from the people he considered the foundation of their barony. Even a token presence could make all the difference in how they viewed his brother's leadership.
The sweep was a slimly manned one with only a couple of his men (well, one was a woman) spread out between the trees. They covered more ground by spacing themselves widely, but always remained within the distance of a sharp whistle should they run into trouble. In the branches above them, the urvogel circled in broad arches. Though not as capable at reasoning as their flightless handlers below, they were clever animals taught to identify oddities and recognize threats.
It was Otis that alerted Artur with his whistle and chirrup, though he seemed uncertain if he should be whistling for discovery or whistling for threat. In the indecisive, blended sound that ensued, the man did catch the short sequence of clicks that indicated person. Humanoid. That was enough to have him quickly turning off the narrow and insubstantial dirt path and rushing in the direction that Otis had perched himself and was still chirping proudly from.
In the dying light of the evening, Artur had to focus to spot the dark feathers of the urvogel, but once it was in his sights he followed the trunk of the tree down to the figure huddled against it. His gloved hand hovered over the pommel of his sword, ready to grip the hilt and unsheathe the weapon should the situation call for it, but it took only half a second for him to realize that the collapsed figure was unmoving. A second longer to notice the bloom of darkness on their garb that was assuredly blood.
Releasing his weapon, he pushed through the thicket towards them with a newfound impetus. Someone was hurt. "Sir! Are you consc-" Oh, but it wasn't a sir, as he came close enough to kneel by the huddled and bloodied figure. A woman. "Shit, I mean Miss. Are you conscious?"
Though hardly a doctor, the man had seen enough of his companions injured to know better than to try to move her right away without first assessing her injuries, and that would be done a lot more efficiently if she were awake to assist him. In preparation, he slid his satchel over his shoulder and set it in the damp leaves beside him. Otis continued to make a fuss in the branches above them, quickly joined by his brother, Otto, who quietly stared at the pair of humans below with a focused, beady eye.
Rooney Morae
