- Messages
- 15
- Character Biography
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How long had Vreilar been walking? He’d stopped counting after the first thirty days, and the road had brought him little respite in the time since. What few healers he came across said they could do little for his injured arm, which now hugged close to his stomach in a sling of dark canvas. A half-shattered mask carved from alabaster wood hung at his hip, looped to his belt through its right eyehole.
He had watched as the Spine grew from a faint silhouette on the horizon to the daunting visage that now rested only a few days away. He had felt the air grow colder not only as he left the desert behind, but as the sun lingered closer to the horizon with every passing week. His entire body hurt, aching for rest it was not yet allowed. His gangly figure trundled through the foothills, growing wearily closer to whatever awaited him in the West. He just had to keep going until he found the unknown, and maybe stay alive in the meantime.
A small stone wall was the first sign of civilization Vreilar had come across in days, caught in what midmorning light filtered past the trees. The structure was worn by time, but he could feel the faint, telltale tension in the air of supernatural defenses. Even plainer to sense was the lingering scent of garlic which he traced to a nearby clove of the pungent vegetable hanging just beyond the wall, stopping the mage dead in his tracks. Garlic spoiled, and wards expired, but both seemed rather fresh to him.
“Good morrow?” A hoarse tenor worn down by too many years of manic shouting called out towards the small hut of a house. Vreilar stood just beyond the stone fence, not too keen to blunder forward and trip some unseen ward that would send him skyward if he wasn’t invited in.
Asuego 'Susanna'
He had watched as the Spine grew from a faint silhouette on the horizon to the daunting visage that now rested only a few days away. He had felt the air grow colder not only as he left the desert behind, but as the sun lingered closer to the horizon with every passing week. His entire body hurt, aching for rest it was not yet allowed. His gangly figure trundled through the foothills, growing wearily closer to whatever awaited him in the West. He just had to keep going until he found the unknown, and maybe stay alive in the meantime.
A small stone wall was the first sign of civilization Vreilar had come across in days, caught in what midmorning light filtered past the trees. The structure was worn by time, but he could feel the faint, telltale tension in the air of supernatural defenses. Even plainer to sense was the lingering scent of garlic which he traced to a nearby clove of the pungent vegetable hanging just beyond the wall, stopping the mage dead in his tracks. Garlic spoiled, and wards expired, but both seemed rather fresh to him.
“Good morrow?” A hoarse tenor worn down by too many years of manic shouting called out towards the small hut of a house. Vreilar stood just beyond the stone fence, not too keen to blunder forward and trip some unseen ward that would send him skyward if he wasn’t invited in.
Asuego 'Susanna'