- Messages
- 182
- Character Biography
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The Spine, en route to Molthal
The wheels of the cart churned through the sleet, throwing Alistair upwards as they hit a rock. Book in his lap, he pulled his eyes away from the pages with the impact, arching his neck over the edge to look at the mountains which soared beyond. Wearing thick, navy blue robes which matched the colour of his eyes, he huddled beneath the black and white which trimmed his hood, the temperature dropping as the cart headed into the thick of a blizzard. Alistair withdrew into the corner of the cart, fiddling with the charm in his gloves hand.
He did not know if the horses would make it through, or if the cart would be trapped.
Breathing in, he rubbed his hands and looked down, focusing on the runes in his book. One eye trailing upward, he caught a glimpse of the only other traveler sitting in the cart, a young woman with dark, curly hair. They had not spoken since she had got on at the last city. Alistair had been too shy.
Shifting his dark, blue eyes, the young mage exhaled, the condensation from his breath hanging on his the air. He lips were parched and his nose freezing, ice clinging to the strands of hair with fell around his forehead. He wanted to get some study in while he traveled, so he had spent the journey studying empathetic runes, in an effort to find a use to use them to calm the emotions of a target, rather than drain them of them. Running his finger down the page, he muttered aloud to himself, scratching the back of his head as he thought. Knees huddled against his chest, he looked up and saw the young woman staring back at him, her eyes as pale as the snow on the road.
Swallowing a nervous gulp, Alistair tugged at the clasp on his neck and breathed in, then exhaled.
"Hello," was all he said.
"Bugger, what do I say now?" The thought overburdened his mind. Panicking, he shifted his eyes, scratched his head even harder, then jolted up, a huge smile on his face, "so what are you going to Molthal for?" He asked.
A pause followed, filled by the dents in Alistair's cheeks as he smiled.
"My name is Alistair Wren, what's yours?" He asked, his voice soft and reserved, yet lacking in expressive nuance.
The sky darkened, threatening the onset of evening. The horses whinnied up ahead as the wind frightened them, the sleet in the air growing thick. The cart slid along the ice, veering to the side and throwing Alistair and the young woman aside with the impact. The young mage grabbed his book, hugged it to his chest gazed upward, worried, at the sky. The stars were not visible, so he couldn't use them to tell where they were. He breathed in and exhaled, then curled up into the corner of the cart, his nose peering over the top of his book.
"Oh boy, I hope the horses make it," he gasped, brow creased in concern.
Rose
The wheels of the cart churned through the sleet, throwing Alistair upwards as they hit a rock. Book in his lap, he pulled his eyes away from the pages with the impact, arching his neck over the edge to look at the mountains which soared beyond. Wearing thick, navy blue robes which matched the colour of his eyes, he huddled beneath the black and white which trimmed his hood, the temperature dropping as the cart headed into the thick of a blizzard. Alistair withdrew into the corner of the cart, fiddling with the charm in his gloves hand.
He did not know if the horses would make it through, or if the cart would be trapped.
Breathing in, he rubbed his hands and looked down, focusing on the runes in his book. One eye trailing upward, he caught a glimpse of the only other traveler sitting in the cart, a young woman with dark, curly hair. They had not spoken since she had got on at the last city. Alistair had been too shy.
Shifting his dark, blue eyes, the young mage exhaled, the condensation from his breath hanging on his the air. He lips were parched and his nose freezing, ice clinging to the strands of hair with fell around his forehead. He wanted to get some study in while he traveled, so he had spent the journey studying empathetic runes, in an effort to find a use to use them to calm the emotions of a target, rather than drain them of them. Running his finger down the page, he muttered aloud to himself, scratching the back of his head as he thought. Knees huddled against his chest, he looked up and saw the young woman staring back at him, her eyes as pale as the snow on the road.
Swallowing a nervous gulp, Alistair tugged at the clasp on his neck and breathed in, then exhaled.
"Hello," was all he said.
"Bugger, what do I say now?" The thought overburdened his mind. Panicking, he shifted his eyes, scratched his head even harder, then jolted up, a huge smile on his face, "so what are you going to Molthal for?" He asked.
A pause followed, filled by the dents in Alistair's cheeks as he smiled.
"My name is Alistair Wren, what's yours?" He asked, his voice soft and reserved, yet lacking in expressive nuance.
The sky darkened, threatening the onset of evening. The horses whinnied up ahead as the wind frightened them, the sleet in the air growing thick. The cart slid along the ice, veering to the side and throwing Alistair and the young woman aside with the impact. The young mage grabbed his book, hugged it to his chest gazed upward, worried, at the sky. The stars were not visible, so he couldn't use them to tell where they were. He breathed in and exhaled, then curled up into the corner of the cart, his nose peering over the top of his book.
"Oh boy, I hope the horses make it," he gasped, brow creased in concern.
Rose
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