- Messages
- 19
- Character Biography
- Link
The stars twinkled overhead. Thick rays of moonlight covered the ground. The wind murmured between the branches. The birds sung and flitted to and fro. Waves lapped and crashed from a land-locked sea. Crackling flames snapped in the dark. A twisted figure moved about in the flickering shadows.
Sarah grunted in pain. She had stripped her armour from her form some time ago. Her blade laid on top of her black cloak. Her body was half-submerged in the waters of the lake. A rudimentary sling kept her charred arm up and out of the way. Her left hand was busy scrubbing dirt and grime from her armour. Several pieces of steel, cuisses and greaves and sabatons laid next to the flickering flames. There metal reflected the oranges and yellows. Cloth chausses and and arming jacket hung from a low branch. They were made of layers of red cloth. Stitched in a brutal manner.
Her good arm pumped over and over. Sweat dripped from her brow despite the cool evening air. A clump of dirt finally dislodged itself from the black brigandine. A sigh of relief escaped from the woman's half-lips. They were a soft natural pink on the left, blackened char on the right. The entirety of her right face was blackened char. And it continued down to her shoulder and across the entirety of her arm. It stretched across her back in angry licks. The arms of some beast from the deep.
Her platinum hair, long now, hung from her head in wet clumps. The end of it touching the water that she sat in. As she laid back her silvered hair spread out like a halo. The moonlight seemed to cling to it. As if the light itself wished to be her hair. But it wasn't, and instead the moon reflected itself in her icy blue gaze. She watched the clouds cross the sky as thought and memory assailed her mind.
She remembered being young and foolish once. When the fires of fate had yet to steal so much from her. Her mind lapsed back to those times. She had snuck out once. It was on a dare. She had taken a rowboat and gone out into the middle of the bay, stripped herself of everything, and then swam. It had been an experience that stuck with her. Evidently, it still did. The lapping of the water against her bare flesh had brought it back.
Sarah continued to lay there. She took comfort in the way that the water buoyed up her broken and burnt body. Her breathing began to slow as the crackling of the flame filled her ears. She wouldn't be able to stay like this, but half an hour wouldn't hurt.
Sarah grunted in pain. She had stripped her armour from her form some time ago. Her blade laid on top of her black cloak. Her body was half-submerged in the waters of the lake. A rudimentary sling kept her charred arm up and out of the way. Her left hand was busy scrubbing dirt and grime from her armour. Several pieces of steel, cuisses and greaves and sabatons laid next to the flickering flames. There metal reflected the oranges and yellows. Cloth chausses and and arming jacket hung from a low branch. They were made of layers of red cloth. Stitched in a brutal manner.
Her good arm pumped over and over. Sweat dripped from her brow despite the cool evening air. A clump of dirt finally dislodged itself from the black brigandine. A sigh of relief escaped from the woman's half-lips. They were a soft natural pink on the left, blackened char on the right. The entirety of her right face was blackened char. And it continued down to her shoulder and across the entirety of her arm. It stretched across her back in angry licks. The arms of some beast from the deep.
Her platinum hair, long now, hung from her head in wet clumps. The end of it touching the water that she sat in. As she laid back her silvered hair spread out like a halo. The moonlight seemed to cling to it. As if the light itself wished to be her hair. But it wasn't, and instead the moon reflected itself in her icy blue gaze. She watched the clouds cross the sky as thought and memory assailed her mind.
She remembered being young and foolish once. When the fires of fate had yet to steal so much from her. Her mind lapsed back to those times. She had snuck out once. It was on a dare. She had taken a rowboat and gone out into the middle of the bay, stripped herself of everything, and then swam. It had been an experience that stuck with her. Evidently, it still did. The lapping of the water against her bare flesh had brought it back.
Sarah continued to lay there. She took comfort in the way that the water buoyed up her broken and burnt body. Her breathing began to slow as the crackling of the flame filled her ears. She wouldn't be able to stay like this, but half an hour wouldn't hurt.