Moldie
Modpurger Edgelord
Chapter I: Setting Forth
Spring had swept the lands, bringing soft breezes and colour to the roadsides. Grassy hills rolled into the horizon, patches of forest hiding amongst them. Those few clouds that roamed the sky did not disturb the ever bright midday sun that had for the last few days brought thaw to the last persistent signs of winter. Six strong an unlikely set of characters rode down the slight mud of true countryside road. The group had traveled down towards the western coasts for months now, passerbyers in every town and stead they came upon. To some perhaps a fleeting existence, but to them a free one.
Two large steeds pulled along an old wooden wagon, It’s canvas roofing illuminated by the suns rays. Steering it along was an older man, and even as the bright daylight brought him to a squint his wild beard alluded to an equally bright smile. Peering out from the corner of his hairy face sat an immaculately carved pipe, from it slight smoke rising towards open skies. Laying on one side of the benching in the carriage behind him was a young woman, a rough and tough type of girl shielding her sleepy eyes with an arm clad in northern artistry. Beside her lounged a dwarf, spots of her already vividly ginger hair brought to a fiery red by light cutting through the shade.
Riding ahead was a man of proud posture, handsome with well kept hair of a similarly warm tone. Lastly there were the pair of elves riding close by his side. The older of the two was a stern looking fellow with long dark hair strands of which were riding on the slight breezes passing them by. On the same horse a young girl, her bare feet dangling freely off the mares side as she basked in the comforting weather around them. Together they made up a group of outcasts, those with no place to be nor one to stay. Instead, they traveled the land, letting road and trail take them where opportunity resides. At that time, it was Kerry. On which they were now coming up. The older man broke the collective silence with a raspy and enthusiastic tone, “So, how far do you reckon Felix?” he queried. His words and gaze directed towards the red haired man leading along their little caravan.
OnyxMule
Spring had swept the lands, bringing soft breezes and colour to the roadsides. Grassy hills rolled into the horizon, patches of forest hiding amongst them. Those few clouds that roamed the sky did not disturb the ever bright midday sun that had for the last few days brought thaw to the last persistent signs of winter. Six strong an unlikely set of characters rode down the slight mud of true countryside road. The group had traveled down towards the western coasts for months now, passerbyers in every town and stead they came upon. To some perhaps a fleeting existence, but to them a free one.
Two large steeds pulled along an old wooden wagon, It’s canvas roofing illuminated by the suns rays. Steering it along was an older man, and even as the bright daylight brought him to a squint his wild beard alluded to an equally bright smile. Peering out from the corner of his hairy face sat an immaculately carved pipe, from it slight smoke rising towards open skies. Laying on one side of the benching in the carriage behind him was a young woman, a rough and tough type of girl shielding her sleepy eyes with an arm clad in northern artistry. Beside her lounged a dwarf, spots of her already vividly ginger hair brought to a fiery red by light cutting through the shade.
Riding ahead was a man of proud posture, handsome with well kept hair of a similarly warm tone. Lastly there were the pair of elves riding close by his side. The older of the two was a stern looking fellow with long dark hair strands of which were riding on the slight breezes passing them by. On the same horse a young girl, her bare feet dangling freely off the mares side as she basked in the comforting weather around them. Together they made up a group of outcasts, those with no place to be nor one to stay. Instead, they traveled the land, letting road and trail take them where opportunity resides. At that time, it was Kerry. On which they were now coming up. The older man broke the collective silence with a raspy and enthusiastic tone, “So, how far do you reckon Felix?” he queried. His words and gaze directed towards the red haired man leading along their little caravan.
OnyxMule
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