Open Chronicles Unfortunate Circumstances

[Flint]

Ah bugger

The front left wheel of the horsecart suddenly jolted and snapped off, bringing the rest of the vehicle crashing to the cobblestone beneath. Almost simultaneously, the harnesses holding the horses snapped off, the two steeds crying out in surprise before bolting off into the distant fields that lay ahead of them. As all this went on, the contents of the horse cart were sent flying into the air, an unpleasant landing shortly awaking them.

Flint was among those contents.

The adventurer cried out as he spared through the air, forsaking whatever god might have had a hand in these unfortunate circumstances. Thankfully, at least, he was thrown away from the cobblestone path, and landed on his back before rolling down a grassy hill.

That considered, it was not an entirely painless landing. His cry heightened to a yelp as he hit ground, and slowed to a murmured groaning as his roll came to a halt at the hill's foot. The barber took a moment to lie in his agony and misfortune, looking blanky into the clear sky that was painted out before him. He let out an exhale, saddened by this event but glad and hopefully that his misfortune ended here.

Moments later, a bird flew over head and decided it was the perfect time to empty it's bowels.


Flint swore as he saw the excrement falling towards him, quickly rolling to the side before it landed beside his head with a splat. He swore as he rolled to a stance, swearing again as he began to walk up the hill towards his smashed horse cart.

Arriving at the site of his mishap, Flint winced through spinal pain as he made to examine his belongings. While the cart was a wreck, his belongings seemed to have come off unscathed. He wished he could say the same for his body. There were likely bruises littered across his back and midriff.

"Well", he sighed. "I suppose I can only blame myself".

Not an entirely inaccurate statement. While some of this event could be attributed to the poor road conditions, Flint had willingly chosen to ride the ramshackle horsecart, and hadn't had the wheels examined in a few years.

 

[Maranae]

The sack slung over her shoulder was quite heavy, but the redhead seemed absolutely oblivious to the fact as she ambled along the road. It contained special-order horseshoes for a customer a couple days travel outside of Alliria. For lack of a better word, that place was her home now.

She hummed a popular song from the local dives to herself as she went, off key even if it was a sweet sound. Anyone that actually knew what the song was about would have likely blushed in embarrassment at hearing it come from her, but Maranae was utterly oblivious to such things. Clad in simple tunic and pants of homespun and with an iron pan hanging from one hip where a sword might have been found, she seemed oblivious to much.

The crash and sound of shattering wood and the yelp of pain brought her up short. She looked round, curious, and saw the pair of horses speeding away with broken tack bouncing along the ground behind them. In the near distance, the wreckage of a cart, and as she watched, the owner of the cart returning to his very much broken conveyance.

She continued on down the road, approaching the stranger with absolutely no caution.

"Hello!" Yellow eyes took the fellow in in a quick sweep from head to toes; she smiled brightly, prominent canines (which bordered on fangs) gleaming in the brilliant sunshine. "Are you all right? I... I heard the crash," She asked and explained. Oddly, her words were very slow and very precise, as if she were choosing them very carefully.

 

[Flint]

Footsteps clicked and echoed in Flint's ears, prompting the adventurer to look behind him. He was met with an... unusual sight.

A girl, a little taller than himself, quite thin. She wore simple, home-made clothes and was quite thin in build. And was that a.... Cooking pan?!

Yes. Inexplicably, the young girl was carrying a metallic pan at her waist, and was approaching him at an alarmingly brisk pace. Flint arched an eyebrow, dumbfounded. Did she intend to rob him? Or cook him a hearty breakfast?

Once she'd arrived at his cart, she positively beamed at him, flashing a beastly smile. She looked, quite frankly, wild. Unusually, she spoke more cautiously than she approached, announcing that she'd seen his crash, and was wondering if he was alright.

Flint was perplexed. Should be have been on guard? There were so many variables to consider with this girl. Who was she? What did she want? Where were her bloody parents?!

"I'm okay, thanks kid", he said, with a much-less-sharpened smile. "Though this has left me in quite the predicament."

He looked to the distance, where his horses crossed over a faraway hill. Then, looking back to the girl.
"I apologise if it's rude to ask, but er, what is it you're doing out here on the road?"

 

[Maranae]

She blinked and considered his words carefully. After a few moments, the grin widened. "The master wants me to take these to Argile," she said, swinging the heavy sack off her shoulder and shaking it until it made the unmistakable sound of steel. The bag was made of heavy material but being swung around made it stretch alarmingly.

She slung it back over her shoulder with a clank as though she were slinging an empty sack.

Her eyes flicked to the running beasts and back. "Your horses are running away," she said as if he hadn't noticed, cocking her head to one side. She blinked again, looking puzzled for a moment. "What is a pre-dicment," she said carefully, mispronouncing the word.