Fantasy The Sheep Dogs IC

[Rusty of Shackleford]

It was a cold, dry winter's morning on the northern border of Byrne. The region was known for it's cold weather, and the fact that the Royal Dragons had been there for weeks didn't help their morale. Ander didn't care. He didn't mind the cold. It was a welcome change from the weather he usually lived in. He pulled his cloak close to him, the hood up as he poked the fire in front of him, keeping it going as he stared into it. Every crackle only caused him to remember that day. The day his village burned, and he got the scar that ran across his chest. He didn't cry, didn't tear up, or do anything to show that he was in pain. He just...sat there, praying to Bahamut that the memories would just go away. Everyone was waking up, and if he wasn't lost in his thoughts, he could have heard his comrades coming to join him.

 

[Jean Otus]

Corvus shivered as he pulled his thin cloak around him, his breath puffed out in steamy bursts in front of him. The wind blew right through the poorly woven burlap, which was more useful for keeping the sun off the back than it was for keeping the cold out. He always seemed to be assigned the worst posts in the entire kingdom. It was far from the sunny southern plains he had come from. He pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind, where they belonged. The bondsman trudged through the camp, doing his best to ignore the dirty looks the other warriors of the band shot at him. His position in their eyes was made clear. He continued on to the center of camp, where he knew he would find the sergeant, who would give him the orders for the day. He saw the armored soldier standing over a fire, warming himself. He joined him by the fire, keeping a respectable distance from both the man and the source of warmth that belonged to him.

"Sergeant, good morning. What will today's work be?" Corvus said in a vacillating tone.

 

[Emi Nebulas]

"Mom?" Eve called out, her crimson eyes widened. "Are you there? I heard a lot of shouting--"

"AWKKKAAWWW!"

Eve froze in her tracks, that horrible sound echoing in her ears. "...Ma?" she slowly got out of her tent, to reveal a horrible sight. There, in the grass, were her mother and father. Her mother was brutally brunt to a crisp, fire still on her, and her father's head was rolling down the hill. Eve gasped, and tumbled back, looking up the stelliferous sky.

There, was a huge dragon. The dragon was red with huge wings that glistened from the moonlight. The dragon lunged at Eve and everything went black.

Eve bolt right awake, sweat dripping down her face. "It's only a dream..." she muttered. The teenager flipped her milky white hair and immediately felt a cold breeze hit her bare skin.

She pursed her lips, and stared at her bionic left arm. "Tch," she got up and fixed up her ribbon. She grabbed her lily and placed it on her bangs. The lily covers her eye. She then looks around, noticing Ander staring at the fire, and Corvus joining him.

She immediately felt chilly because of her lack of warm clothes, and emerges near the warm fire. The warm flames dance around creating beautiful patterns. She joins Ander and Corvus, and sits near the beautiful fire, staring intently on it. "What Corvus said," she said at Ander, with a monotone voice.

Interacting With: Rusty of Shackleford || Mentioned: Jean Otus ​

 

[Rusty of Shackleford]

Ander didn't hear the two approach, jumping a bit when the two spoke. "Ah! Oh! Sorry! Just...lost in my own thoughts. We're heading south. About fuckin' time. Anyway, something about how a town hasn't been heard from in a few weeks. Since we're the closest to it, we're being sent out check it out. Please just let it be a faulty post system." The cook soon came by, handing them all their bowls of mystery stew as Ander said, "Yum. It's even greyer than last time." He ate it, not really commenting in the taste, since there was no taste. The cook's food is the most bland thing anyone on the Material Plane could possibly eat. It was quite impressive, actually, how bland it was. He sighed, moving closer to his comrades as he said, "So, how did you sleep? Lose any fingers?" He chuckled, hoping they'd at least laugh a little at his joke. He had a very dry, somewhat dark sense of humor. Mostly due to how much shit he'd seen, and how it didn't really affect him anymore. Nothing really did anymore. The only thing he felt in any strong amounts were pain, and the sheer drive to find Marcel. That, and nothing else.

Emi Nebulas

Jean Otus

 

[Ya Boi]

Ezekiel walked through the camp ground, adjusting his armor whilst doing so. He glanced around him, looking for something interesting to do. The camp didn't really have too much to do when it came to having fun. Can't really blame them, though. The Royal Dragons were somewhat of a... mercenary group? Ezekiel never really knew how to describe his team. The day-to-day process reminded him of his mercenary days. He frowned at the memory and brushed it aside.

He spotted his comrades gathered together. Each of them had a bowl of unknown food items. 'I hope that it's food and not some scrap and dirt that they'd managed to scrounge together.' He clapped Ander's shoulder and nodded to Eve and Corvus. "Y'all talking 'bout losing fingers again?" he mused. He'd heard talk of some of their group losing a few fingers to the cold.

 

[Jean Otus]

Corvus took the bowl of slop in one shivering hand while drawing his ragged cloak around himself. He noted that his bowl of grey, quivering slop seemed smaller than the others'. It seemed that even the worst of things came less to those of ill repute in this band. He ate the food, trying to ignore the taste, which was like paper and awfulness mixed with saltwater. He tried to force a chuckle at the Sergeant 's joke, tossing his empty bowl aside and flexing his fingers.

"Haha... No. All my fingers are intact, I'd would be finished if I were to lose any of these." He cast a big, lascivious wink at Eve. "These things work wonders beyond anything you've ever seen." He shook his head and laughed off the pass when he saw the younger Dragon approaching. He'd had an issue with flirting like that since he stopped stealing. One vice for another it would seem. "My skills aside, what's the mission for today. Some of us have a quota to meet and a debt to pay."

Ya Boi
Rusty of Shackleford
Emi Nebulas

 

[Emi Nebulas]

"Ah! Oh! Sorry! Just...lost in my own thoughts. We're heading south. About fuckin' time. Anyway, something about how a town hasn't been heard from in a few weeks. Since we're the closest to it, we're being sent out check it out. Please just let it be a faulty post system."

Eve pursed her lips, and blankly stared at Ander, then back at the fire. It takes every single nerve in her body not to leap and extinguish the fire, but she tries to remain calm. As calm as a relaxed lake.

The cook soon came by, handing them all their bowls of mystery stew as Ander said, "Yum. It's even greyer than last time." He ate it, not really commenting in the taste. Eve plainly stared at the mysterious substance before giving it back. "I'm not hungry," she stated in an ominous voice. No, it wasn't because it was bland, it was just because she felt off, and in a very bad mood.

Ander then sighed, moving closer to his comrades as he said, "So, how did you sleep? Lose any fingers?" He chuckled, hoping they'd at least laugh a little at his joke.

Eve rolled her eyes and in a very grim voice, fibbed, "Never been better." She stretched her bionic arm a bit, extending the arm and spreading the fingers. "Haha... No. All my fingers are intact, I'd would be finished if I were to lose any of these." Corvus said. He then cast a big, lascivious wink at Eve. Eve rolled her eyes and looked away, disgusted.

"Y'all talking 'bout losing fingers again?" Ezekiel mused, walking over there. "No. We're talking about my wedding," Eve snapped sarcastically, then looked at the glowing fire.

Interacting With: Rusty of Shackleford Jean Otus Ya Boi || Mentioned: None​

 

[Abendrot]

The northern air was cold, though not nearly as cold as Ostian expected it to be this time of year. Still, it was cold enough that the chill penetrated his coat and his breath misted in front of his face. Resting a gloved hand on the pommel of his sword, he pulled his cloak tighter around himself and made his way back to the breakfast fires. The war camp held well over a thousand soldiers, a full quarter of them on watch at any given time. Against monsters, they needed as many eyes as they could manage. Ostian strode into the fire's light. Captain Ander was there, as was Eve and Ezekiel and Corvus. There was one empty seat left. "Good morning, all." he said with customary courtesy. He turned his eyes towards the simmering pot of stew hanging over the cookfire. "Cender stew again? Captain, you really need to find some more imaginative chefs." Despite the comment, he grabbed himself a bowl and began eating. Cender roots were inherently bland, but were ridiculously easy to grow and procure. The army needed food that didn't cost much these days.

 

[Rusty of Shackleford]

Ander shook his head at the two, saying, "Wow. I can barely sense your sarcasm, Eve." He looked at Corvus, saying, "Yeah like stealing? Don't go rummaging through everybody's things, alright? We have enough problems with all the undead as of late." He didn't hate Corvus. It was just his job to be distrustful of him right up until he proved himself. He waved at Ezikiel, saying, "Yeah. Asked 'em if they lost any fingers. None luckily." He turned to greet Ostian, saying, "It's Seargent. I got passed up for a promotion by some noble bloke with a big mouth. Bastard's probably gonna get himself killed, bless his heart." He hated cender as much as the next guy, but when you spend most of your adult life eating it, you discover it's more aquired tastes. And plus, it was easy to get, so he didn't pass up easy food.
Abendrot
Ya Boi
Emi Nebulas
Jean Otus

 

[Jean Otus]

Corvus thrust his hands deep inside his cloak. "I promise you, Sergeant, I gave up stealing, cloaks aren't the folds I'd be rummaging around in..." He threw another colossal wink at Eve. Ever since he met the icy Dragon, she'd been his favorite target for his womanizing and tormenting. Like a dog that wouldn't stop nipping at the heels of someone until they pet or kicked him, he would continue until something gave. After that, he shut up while the talk of promotions came up. If there was a part of the organization he was not privy to, it was the upper ranks, bound to his position as he was.
Emi Nebulas
Ya Boi
Abendrot
Rusty of Shackleford

 

[Ya Boi]

Ezekiel made a face at Corvus before grabbing a bowl of stew. He took a sip and then shrugged. Ander began talking to Ostian about ranks and promotions. It didn't seem all that interesting to him. It's not like he didn't care. He is a Lieutenant after all. It's just...

"..a bunch of nonsense," he mutters. He glances around, hoping that no one heard him. Not wanting to explain his thoughts, he immediately turned to Corvus and Eve. "Hey, how 'bout we go a few rounds? Never hurts to train regularly, right?"

 

[Rusty of Shackleford]

Ander frowned, saying to his womanizing friend, "Enough with the dirty talk. Either get a room, or stop it." It's not like he knew how to dirty talk. He'd never had a lover, or anyone who wanted to be that. It only made him think, what if Marcel didn't betray the village? Where would he be? Maybe he'd have his own farm, a wife, maybe a few kids. He would be happy, no doubt, but that was the past, and the past should stay buried for him, lest it dig it's way out and make him look bad. He sighed, finishing his bowl as he tossed it aside and got up to report to Captain Mira.

Ya Boi
Jean Otus

 

[Emi Nebulas]

"Good morning, all." Ostian said with customary courtesy. He turned his eyes towards the simmering pot of stew hanging over the cookfire. "Cender stew again? Captain, you really need to find some more imaginative chefs." Despite the comment, he grabbed himself a bowl and began eating.

"At least we're surviving on this," Eve snapped rudely. "Be a bit grateful. That wouldn't kill you." She shuddered, the cold winding slapping her body. Ander shook his head at the two, saying, "Wow. I can barely sense your sarcasm, Eve."

Eve rolled her dull, crimson eyes. The reflection of the fire in her eyes. Ander looked at Corvus, saying, "Yeah like stealing? Don't go rummaging through everybody's things, alright? We have enough problems with all the undead as of late."

"You know that's impossible," Eve pointed out. "Even if a million deadly soldiers, heck, if even the king commands him to stop, that won't work out."

He waved at Ezikiel, saying, "Yeah. Asked 'em if they lost any fingers. None luckily."

Corvus thrust his hands deep inside his cloak. "I promise you, Sergeant, I gave up stealing, cloaks aren't the folds I'd be rummaging around in..." He then threw a wink at Eve. She grit her teeth. "If you wink again, I swear, I'm going to rip out your fucking eyes and your damn fingers. Then, Ander will finally say that someone lost their fingers."

Ander frowned, saying to his womanizing friend, "Enough with the dirty talk. Either get a room, or stop it."

Ezekiel then turned to Eve and Corvus. "Hey, how 'bout we go a few rounds? Never hurts to train regularly, right?"

"There is no 'we'," Eve stated. "I prefer to practice myself, or intentionally hit Corvus."

Interacting With: Rusty of Shackleford Jean Otus Ya Boi Abendrot || Mentioned: None​

 

[billthesomething]

Miska was not bothered by the cold as the others were, seeing as he had thick fur akin to that of a mountain goat. Now if only the fur would grow on other places then just his legs, he would be perfectly peachy. But abominations such as him don't normally have the fortune of being individuals of a sensible appearance, it was one of the many things he cursed his father for.

But aside from his slight resistance to the cold winter, he still needed sustenance as any other humans, if only in a larger quantity then the typical homo-sapiens.

So as he approached the fire, he undid his robes just enough to expose his third eye and second mouth near his waist, he sighed internally followed by cursing his father once more for being the cause the many if not endless list of problems in his life such as having two unconnected stomachs, he sat himself down near the fire and called upon two tentacles, so he wouldn't have to focus on filling up a second bowl for his other stomach.

He filled his bowl of soup, he placed his bowl on the ground before him, followed by him clasping his hands in a prayer, with the two tentacles mimicking his actions a few seconds later

"Praise be to The Ocean Mother, I thank you for the waters that bring life, for the flow of time caused by your tides, for your children who welcome death to sustain me and my brethren"

With his morning prayers finished, he began eating the stew. He was slightly disappointed that it was Cender Stew once more, but he wouldn't voice his complaints for he was satisfied with having a meal.

But when Ostian commented, he nodded in a agreement with the older soldier, so when Eve commented. He threw his two cents

"While, I agree with you, Ms. Nightingale. I also with agree with Mr. Tel Mareth, a greater variety of meals would be highly appreciated. Stagnation Brings Damnation, after all"
Emi Nebulas Abendrot

 

[Rusty of Shackleford]

Ander sighed, glad that he was away from those idiots. He loved them, they were his comrades, but Bahamut's shiny scales, they were annoying. He was glad that at least the Captain wasn't an asshole. He walked into her tent, seeing the woman adjusting her armor as he said, "Good morning, Captain. How'd you sleep?" She smiled, saying, "I slept well, Seargent. Could you help me? There's this one strap I can never quite get." He nodded, the woman turning around as Ander slowly pulled the strap, getting a decent look at the woman's toned back as he had to stop himself from staring. She was kind, understanding. Would make for a good wife. But no. He was a former farmer, she was the heiress to the second most powerful noble house in the country. It wouldn't work. Not with the current social climate.

After he finished with that, tell two headed back, Mira standing there as she said, "Good morning! I hope you all slept well! Seargent Ander told me he already filled you in, so that saves us some time. Here's the thing, though..." She moved closer, whispering, "That's all I know. My superiors didn't tell me anything else other than that the town stopped talking. But keep this between us, okay?" She smiled, getting her bowl as she said in her noble accent, "Ah, Cender Root stew! Wonderful! I hope the chef made it extra bland today!" She ate a spoonful, making a disgusted face as she swallowed it and said, "Mm! Delicious!" She shook her head, mouthing, "No it's not." She was supposed to say it was good for morale's sake, but everyone knew it sucked.

Jean Otus
billthesomething
Ya Boi
Emi Nebulas

 

[Ya Boi]

Ezekiel looked unimpressed with the Captain's attempt at humor. His right hand moved closer to the sword strapped to his side, itching to draw it out. He'd never been a fan of jokes or playing around his comrades. Battle was always imminent and he wanted to be prepared for when it came.

Seeing as how no one seemed interested to spar, he made a move to leave. He saluted the Captain before walking away, moving for the little area they'd reserved for training.

 

[Emi Nebulas]

Once Ander left, Eve got up as well. "I'm taking a walk. Don't follow me," she announced. "Or you're dead." She started to walk, looking at all the trees and the scenery. Once she was away, she heard a weird noise.

Tap.
Tap.
Tap.

"What the hell?" she looked around, trying to find the source.

Tap.
Tap.
Tap.

She looked up, and noticed a woodpecker on the tree, tapping away.

"Oh," she muttered, blankly staring at it. While examining the bird, she noticed that the wing was slightly disoriented. Eve grabbed onto a branch and held the bird in her hand.

"It's broken," she whispered to herself. She then managed to rip off a piece of cloth from her sleeve and wrap it around the wing gently. She looked at the tree, and punched it with all her might, even elbowing it with her bionic arm. Soon, there was a nice hole. She placed the woodpecker in there, and whispered, "take care of yourself."

Rusty of Shackleford Jean Otus Ya Boi Abendrot billthesomething ​