Post by Emma on Oct 17, 2010 20:43:00 GMT -5
Being in the Silent Plains just made me feel sick.
We were in the ruins of some little village called Rift, many miles from civilization is any direction. What buildings were still left standing were bent and misshapen, and the rubble on the ground was already being reclaimed by the earth. Interestingly, despite being one of the closest towns to Du Weldenvarden, it had gone untouched for thirty-odd years- likely due to the fact that it had been entirely obliterated by the elves in one go. The unmarked graves of the humans who had lived here were already overgrown. I saw no reason to fear those who had already moved on to the other world, but I couldn’t say the same for my companions.
I shot an icy-eyed glare at the very young Riders and wards of the Citadel as they picked among the remains of the village, various looks of terror and anxiety colouring their faces. There was a single senior Rider taking care of the lot of us, but she, her dragon, and the younglings’ hatchlings had flown off to make circles around the surrounding area, hunting for bandits. The idea of bandits sneaking up on the Riders was laughable, to put it mildly, so they were clearly much more worried about the possibility of the elves venturing out of Du Weldenvarden to see what all the commotion was about.
It was cowardly, but I nonetheless found myself understanding them. Besides the very predominant hatred Dellanir had of their Order, there was the little fact that the Riders hadn’t quite bothered to tell Dellanir about what had been discovered here- and, of course, that we had a Shade working alongside us. As the thought crossed my mind, I turned my head and glanced at the large tent set up underneath one of the tallest buildings, where the creature was staying. Clarus Maleficarum, owner of the Leona Lake Trading Company, was not the sort to mingle with the commoners, I’d noticed.
I’d only gotten a brief glimpse of the Shade when he’d first arrived about half an hour earlier- mostly of his long crimson hair, notable height, and pale skin. I’d overheard some of the senior Riders talking about him back in Ilirea- the Order only tolerated his presence because he was subtle, relatively harmless to the humans, but mostly because he was absolutely deadly when provoked. To most people, he was just a crowd-shy man of means that had overseen his company for a surprisingly long time. Those who did know were wise enough to stay their tongues about him, or risk losing them.
I didn’t approve of magic, but I’d been around enough of it to be tolerant by now. I didn’t fear the conjurer or his tricks. I just wanted to focus on the reason we’d all been dragged out here in the first place- a rumoured cache of magical equipment. I didn’t know why it hadn’t been used by the villagers to protect themselves if it really existed, but every Rider, even the very new ones, reported a powerful magical sensation in this region- one that even I, with not a speck of magical knowledge to spare, could feel. It was like the barely detectable, but easily recognized beat of an enormous heart within the ground.
All we had to do was find it. Even our most powerful of magical detectors couldn’t come up with anything beyond the fact that the pulse didn’t come from one specific place; it was entirely scattered around the ruins of Rift. That was probably why they’d allowed the Shade, an arcane expert, to come along on the expedition, although I suspected they’d had to do plenty of prying to get him to join- with money, most likely, considering he was a merchant. As soon as he was ready, the actual search would start. For now, most people were poking about, hoping to get lucky and be greatly rewarded. Egomaniacs.
I was sitting on the uncomfortable remains of a stone wall that now only stood at about four feet in height, stropping a shortsword I’d borrowed from the Citadel Armoury. I strongly preferred my whip, and my bow as a secondary weapon, but I did have to study close combat. The weapon wasn’t anything special in appearance, but well-made, if simply so. It was the first one I’d found in the Armoury- the ones that were assigned to the Wards, anyway- that didn’t have a tendency to angle sideways. It was irritatingly blunt from overuse, however, and I’d spent a likely very wasteful twenty minutes on stropping it.
I’d left my armour in my saddlebag, since there was no apparent physical danger. True to my tastes, I wore a low-cut black dress, with a corset underneath to enhance my somewhat unimpressive chest size. The bosom and sleeves were lacy, and the skirt went to the floor, although it was cut along the sides for riding. Underneath it, I wore black leggings and sable flats on my feet. My long white hair had been left as it was, unbound. I wore no makeup except for black kohl outlining my eyes to reduce the glare of the noontime sunlight, and a clear moisturizer on my lips to save them from cracking and bleeding.
It was oddly hot for autumn, but it was the Plains. Not a cloud was in the sky, and there was no breeze at all. Besides the occasional destroyed village, there was nothing in any direction but miles of rolling grassland, although I was convinced I could see Du Weldenvarden on the very far horizon. My fellow Wards were already whining about the heat, which I felt the urge to thrash them for. There was nothing worth complaining over a little sunshine. I glanced down at my borrowed sword, holding it up for analysis. It was finally in decent shape- although stropping it had been a waste of time, considering I likely wouldn’t have any need to use it.
Words;; 1000 exactly! Woo!
Muse;; On and off.
Thoughts;; Despite my weird muse, I like the turnout. =)
