simsf1Join Date: 2009-12-27
Post Count: 10905 |
Alistair never went outside Falkirk much after joining the Rangers. "How far is it from here to Briarwall?" he asked, looking up at them. |
|
|
"25ish miles. You can see here, it's about halfway up along the West arch of the Route."
The other groups of cadets disperse to various parts of the Hold, planning preparations. |
|
simsf1Join Date: 2009-12-27
Post Count: 10905 |
Two days, then, to get there. That would be if they had horses.
As Alistair packed, he made sure to pack in an extra change of clothes and as much food as he could fit in the backpack.
Along with this, he wore his favorite bastard sword across his back, and a bow to go with it, as well as a good amount of arrows. He looked at the map again. He knew he'd heard of a war in the north between two alliances of strongholds, or something like that. It was a worrisome subject. |
|
|
Most Horse breeds had either died out, or became carniverous, like many other old world creatures. The only Horse breed that could still be tamed and ridden were somethign the Stablemaster called "Shire Horses".
The others finish the day of packing. Simon had elected to bring a set of climbing tools, and other simple instruments. Jans strung himself another quiver of arrows, God knows why, one quiver would be plenty. Erin packed fairly light, oddly enough, just a bedroll and a few packets of trailbread. Marcus more than made up for it, carrying a large rucksack of essentials. You and Simon argued with him a bit over him being the groups packmule, but he insisted he didn't mind carrying bulk, and you gave up trying to persuade him.
In case you'd forgotten, Trailbread was a Ranger staple, which you had eaten nothing else but, for a week during training. It didn't taste bad per se, but it was an acquired taste. It's simple wheat bread with a variety of nuts and small fruits backed into the dough. It doesn't taste much like it's ingredients though, at least not the way you'd expect.
Morningbirds call, waking you and your group in your bunks. |
|
simsf1Join Date: 2009-12-27
Post Count: 10905 |
Alistair moved from his sheets reluctantly, sitting in the bed a moment and staring at the floor. He'd always come back to Falkirk for rest between missions. He would never call any place but this one home. Until he died, there would never be any place he saw more than Falkirk.
So why did he feel as if he was leaving this place forever? He'd always been ready, even eager, for this transformation into adulthood, to go out and see the world once again like he had before he came to Falkirk. And now he was so upset to see it go it was a wonder he was able to stand and put his clothes on. As he clasped on his black cloak to brace himself for the winter cold, that black mass that had been his friend since infancy, he moved through his thoughts.
He was sad to leave now. Just... sad. Perhaps it was that he was no longer a student here in the castle. He would be a true Ranger now.
And yet, he found that his thoughts began to gravitate inescapably towards Erin. He was more than excited to take this journey with his friends, but for some reason it seemed as if all he could think of was her face, angled and... beautiful, set in a shoulder-length body of ebony-shaded hair. It was overwhelming, even as he carried his belongings out the door to the courtyard, meaning to meet his party at the stables. |
|
|
Your companions are saddling up a set of 5 horses, fashioning their packs into makeshift saddlebags. They've already claimed a horse for you, a black and white Mare. You set to stringing your belongings to the saddle, and as the sun begins to peek over the walls, your party gathers at the front gate, mounted, and facing the future. |
|
simsf1Join Date: 2009-12-27
Post Count: 10905 |
Alistair lagged behind, watching the road ahead and checking behind him every so often to glance at Falkirk. He was restless in the saddle as his childhood faded from actuality to mere memory behind him, in a very physical way. He felt a change occurring inside of him, and suddenly he could only look ahead- no longer did he watch the fading shape of the castle.
But still, that strange obsession with Erin persisted, holding to his mind like flies to honey, dragging his eyes over to her and only her. He tried his best to control it, but he could not. Finally, he indulged himself in the sight of her, taking one good look at her figure. |
|
|
The trees had seemed quite dense near Falkirk, but out here, it was surely impenetrable. Even the road had dissolved into nothing but stretch where the roots weren't as thick. Thankfully the horses were sure-footed, but nonetheless, it was quite claustrophobic. Your party glances about in all directions, tensing at snaps and creaks, and the occasional light scampering noise.
Marcus raises and arm, and halts his mount. |
|
simsf1Join Date: 2009-12-27
Post Count: 10905 |
Alistair followed suit, senses heightened as he observed their surroundings, staring hard for anything which might pose a threat. |
|
|
You notice, the sound of trickling water, and spur your mount towards the front of the party, with Marcus.
You find the path split by a gap nearly 3 yards across, and almost 2 yards deep. At the bottom, a small brook rushes along through a groove down the middle of the Trench. |
|
simsf1Join Date: 2009-12-27
Post Count: 10905 |
Alistair looked at the brook, trying to analyze the small stream. Could the horses cross with the men on their backs? |
|
|
Across a deep, 3 yard long Trench? Not likely. You doubt they could make it across unladened, either. the far side is simply to tall for them to mantle. |
|
simsf1Join Date: 2009-12-27
Post Count: 10905 |
Alistair looked back at his companions. "Gentlemen, Ladies, Simon," he spoke clearly and loudly, "we can not cross this brook with our horses. What do you all propose we do?" |
|
simsf1Join Date: 2009-12-27
Post Count: 10905 |
Whilst awaiting their response, Alistair added onto the hasty map he'd been working on, scribbling a small set of lines to represent the brook. He looked east and west, down each way. "I suppose we could try to find a ford..." |
|
|
In truth the stream was quite insignificant, barely ankle deep, and a couple feet across. The trench was the real issue.
You look up and down the trench, and notice that there's some clearance between the trees and the edge of the ravine, on the right side of the trail. Enough space for a horse, if you're careful. |
|
simsf1Join Date: 2009-12-27
Post Count: 10905 |
Alistair leads the way, dismounting and leading his steed across the passage. |
|
|
The rest of the party follows suit, and you carefully lead your horse along the ridge, as quickly as you dare. Your horse stumbles on a crumbling edge once, but thankfully recovers itself.
After about 15 long minutes of shuffling along, you see a gentle slope cut into both sides of the ravine, connected by a road. You check your field map, and you're quite certain this road isn't marked. There shouldn't be another thoroughfare for another mile in this direction.
This is exactly why we go on patrols like this, as insignificant as they may seem. The roads between Strongholds are constantly shifting positions, and maps need updating on an almost weekly basis. Usually, the roads are just well-defined paths through otherwise dense forest, as though the wild itself was providing us with a means to travel. There are several you've heard of, however, that in spite of the constant shifting, always seemed to be paved with some pattern of stone, usually cobble. One ranger had told of a road he had found, paved with finely inlaid stone tiles, and unmarred by underbrush or roots. Such a road had never been found since, but there are stranger things out here. |
|
simsf1Join Date: 2009-12-27
Post Count: 10905 |
Jesus. Or rather, whatever Messianic figure we worship in this world.
Once Alistair was up on the ridge, he turned to check on his party. "All the horses alright? Nothing lost or left in the water?" he asked, looking his companions over. Once again his eyes lingered on Erin, but he corrected himself as quick as possible, moving his sight to Marcus and hoping nobody noticed his slightly long stare at her. |
|
|
Each of them checks their bags and shakes their head in turn.
You make eye contact with Erin longer than you intended. Not sure anyone really took notice though. |
|
simsf1Join Date: 2009-12-27
Post Count: 10905 |
Thank God. Or, again, whoever the religious figure of this world is.
Alistair nodded and got back up on his horse, making all the proper corrections to the map that were needed and setting off once again. |
|
|
You mark the path as far down it as you can see, back towards the direction you came from, which isn't far, as the path turns quite sharply at one point, obscuring anything further. Simon continues detailing the route as you travel along it.
The path opens into a small clearing, which holds a quaint little cabin, surprisingly well kept for such isolation. |
|
simsf1Join Date: 2009-12-27
Post Count: 10905 |
Alistair looked up. Hoow long had they been marching? If it had been a long enough time, then Alistair might have considered requesting stay in this cabin. |
|
|
You've been on the move for some time. It's about 11 AM, by the sun. Fair weather today, usually it's almost completely covered in clouds, now it's only mostly covered in clouds. Grey clouds too, not very inviting. It doesn't rain much come this season though, oddly enough. |
|
simsf1Join Date: 2009-12-27
Post Count: 10905 |
Alistair took a deep breath. "Mark this cabin on the map, Simon," he told his friend. "It could be used as a safe haven for travelers who get out later than we did." The Dragon watched the log house.
"What do you suppose we do? Should we see who inhabits it and whether or not they're friendly?" he asked, looking back at the group. |
|
|
Erin stares at the cabin for a moment.
"Some cottage out in the middle of the wilderness? There's no way that's safe."
Jans chimes in,
"Yeah but that's our job innit? To investigate stuff like this. and either deal with it or let the others know about it?"
Erin Nods.
"Yeah, I suppose it is." |
|