Inside the Tavern...The woman stares at you for the duration of an awkward silence that, though short, seems to last forever. She then answers "Rum it is then. Just a moment, sir."
The old man chuckles quietly into his drink.
She returns a moment later with a stone tankard containing a clear beverage which seems to sparkle and reflect the light from a nearby window. The inside of the tankard, where it meets the beverage, is tinted a slight green. "Home-made," she explains, "enjoy?"
In the General Store..."Can't say've ever met yer tribe," Cooper replies as you make your way to the front of the store, "But we didn't go too far into th' desert, y'know..."
He trails off as you approach the counter where Lieutenant Ward has just finished speaking to the gnomess behind the counter. "Alright then," the Lieutenant speaks, "I can't think of anything we're missing, so...uh...best go meet the others..."
With the Captain...(4+1)
Flint pulls his rifle from where it is slung on his back, and pulls back the hammer in a single, smooth stride. Alis pulls out his bow and notches an arrow, turning to peer out into the distance where the rider came from. As
Fibleck draws his war axe and readies an executing blow, Flint puts his own gun away and drops to one knee beside
Sven who is frantically working to stem the bleeding with no avail.
"Tel'Hal, if you are just going to state the obvi-" Flint begins, before biting his tongue and gritting his teeth. Instead he takes the injured rider's right hand, and leans in to look into his eyes, careful to avoid getting in
Sven's way. "Alright, son, tell me where you're coming from and what regiment you're with."
"Sc-scoutin-..." the rider begins, before a coughing fit takes him. Blood dribbles down his chin, and a splatter of it lands on Flint's armor and
Sven's gloves and sleeves.
Outside the Tavern..."Of course," the bearded man replies, pointing down the street in the direction opposite from whence you've come, "You'll likely find them in the local church. Small as it is, their numbers aren't enough to warrant commandeering another building. Mostly Dheurvas here, it'-"
He is cut off by a sudden bang: The clattering of swords, rifles, packs, canteens, and armor as they fall from Lieutenant Ward's arms onto the dirt path.
The Lieutenant goes rigid, hand up in salute. "General Brandguard, sir!"
The bearded man affects something between a smile and a smirk, wrinkles forming at the edge of his eyes.
Just because I haven't the energy to pull out my notes and come up with a well-thought out reply every day does not mean I'm letting this die.
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Topic: The Defense of Elise - Prologue: Bootcamp (Read 15219 times)