Private Tales Crossroads

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
The half light seemed to make the scar tugging at her lip seem even deeper than it was. He wondered what kind of person followed a bounty hunter into the lair of a murderous, disgraced Knight.

Draedamyr passed up the water skin. "Here, drink plenty. If we get lost it might take us time to get back up here."
 
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It did not escape her when the elf glanced at her schmiss. Such a wound really had no placesitting on the face of a nice dame like her.

»Thank you,« she spoke as she took her fill from the skin.
 
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"You've been in wars?" he asked bluntly. Not many ways someone could pick up a scar like that and lose an entire limb.

In other circumstances he might not have asked like that. With the foreboding silence of the caverns, broken only by the soft sound of the stream he didn't feel like dancing around the question. Anything to pass the time. And they might have a lot of that.
 
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»No, not yet. But i've seena fair share of battles

»At the academy I attended we had various sport groups, some of which participated in mensur, fencing. It's not uncommon to get injured...In fact everyone purposefully gnarls their own face wounds so they never heal propperly. It's a badge of honour, attractive for some ladies even.«
 
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"Hmm. Where I come from its more of a mark of skill to be a duelist whose skin had never felt the kiss of a blade."

"Of course," he said with a wide shrug. "That's no one. Everyone has to start somewhere and is going to put a foot out of place."
 
»I can see why a skin free of blemish would be percieved so, you know, with being so longlived, it must be a feat to go so far unharmed.«

Ermengarde briefly leaned against a wall for short respite.
 
Draedamyr decided it was time for a rest and crouched down against a wall opposite Ermengarde.

"Though everyone has to learn. Some lessons are better written in scars than with a quill," he replied. There were enough small nicks across his arms from those days.

"So what were you on the road for?" he asked, deciding that conversation was preferable to a deeply oppressive silence.