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shiva_dancing_backup2010-01-31 09:41 pm
the-whiteprince.livejournal.com) wrote in shiva_dancing_backup2010-01-31 09:41 pm
Entry tags:
(no subject)
Who: Rasler, open
What: Wandering through the Estersand, in hopes of reaching Rabanastre
Where: The Estersand in between Rabanastre, and Nalbina
When: Midday
Rating: T
The hot desert sun scorched the sands, and the metal Rasler's armor. He was searing in the suit, but taking it off was not a viable option at the moment, too many monster and fiends running around to risk it. He wiped the sweat off his brow and gripped the hilt of his sword. Ahead, a lone wolf paced back and forth, waiting for him to come closer. It would be best to avoid the fiend all together, but the boulders and high cliffs narrowed the pathway making his choices few.
Rasler tried to sidestep the beast, and avoided looking at it directly. The wolf crouched down, and prepared itself to strike the prince. He unsheathed his sword, and parried its blow sending it back a few feet. Taking the opportunity while the wolf lay on the ground, he stuck his blade into the beast's chest. Blood dripped from the tip of the blade, into the sand. The wolf got up and attacked again with his claws, tearing his linen pants. Rasler sliced the wolf's throat, and it fell to the ground after receiving the killing blow.
Sweat dripped from Rasler's forehead, he wiped it off while catching his breath. A surge of pain shot through his leg were the wolf had clawed him. His white pant leg was now torn and soaked with crimson blood. Something needed to be done about the bleeding if he ever wanted to reach Rabanstre by nightfall when the fiends were much worse. He reached for his embroidered cape and tore off a bit of the ragged hem. It wasn't as clean as he would like it but it would work, especially if he used a cure spell. He was not talented in the magickal arts, but he did know a few simple spells that helped should the situation call for them. The makeshift bandage in place, he then began to cast cure closing off the wound. His armor once bright and shining armor was now dull, and covered with a layer of dust and specks of blood.
Rasler got up, checked his bearings, and began walking with a slight limp. The last thing he recalled was fighting in Nalbina, the paling had just fallen, but he was still determined to defend Dalmasca at any cost. He also remembers, the sound of an arrow flying through the air aimed at his heart. And then everything had faded into darkness. Next thing he knew he found himself in Nalbina once again, only there is no war and the fortress is being rebuilt. He had attracted many stares as he wandered out of the city. His head was a blur of confusion and disorientation. Perhaps, it would all be explained once he reached Rabanstre and found Ashelia, his wife. Honestly, he could not wait to see her again, and hold her in his arms. It was hard having to leave her in the palace, while he went away to fight in the war. The night before he headed off he swore that he would return to her, and now he was fulfilling that promise.
He looked up at the sky, high noon, judging by the position of the sun. There was still a bit of a ways to go before he would finally be home with his family.
What: Wandering through the Estersand, in hopes of reaching Rabanastre
Where: The Estersand in between Rabanastre, and Nalbina
When: Midday
Rating: T
The hot desert sun scorched the sands, and the metal Rasler's armor. He was searing in the suit, but taking it off was not a viable option at the moment, too many monster and fiends running around to risk it. He wiped the sweat off his brow and gripped the hilt of his sword. Ahead, a lone wolf paced back and forth, waiting for him to come closer. It would be best to avoid the fiend all together, but the boulders and high cliffs narrowed the pathway making his choices few.
Rasler tried to sidestep the beast, and avoided looking at it directly. The wolf crouched down, and prepared itself to strike the prince. He unsheathed his sword, and parried its blow sending it back a few feet. Taking the opportunity while the wolf lay on the ground, he stuck his blade into the beast's chest. Blood dripped from the tip of the blade, into the sand. The wolf got up and attacked again with his claws, tearing his linen pants. Rasler sliced the wolf's throat, and it fell to the ground after receiving the killing blow.
Sweat dripped from Rasler's forehead, he wiped it off while catching his breath. A surge of pain shot through his leg were the wolf had clawed him. His white pant leg was now torn and soaked with crimson blood. Something needed to be done about the bleeding if he ever wanted to reach Rabanstre by nightfall when the fiends were much worse. He reached for his embroidered cape and tore off a bit of the ragged hem. It wasn't as clean as he would like it but it would work, especially if he used a cure spell. He was not talented in the magickal arts, but he did know a few simple spells that helped should the situation call for them. The makeshift bandage in place, he then began to cast cure closing off the wound. His armor once bright and shining armor was now dull, and covered with a layer of dust and specks of blood.
Rasler got up, checked his bearings, and began walking with a slight limp. The last thing he recalled was fighting in Nalbina, the paling had just fallen, but he was still determined to defend Dalmasca at any cost. He also remembers, the sound of an arrow flying through the air aimed at his heart. And then everything had faded into darkness. Next thing he knew he found himself in Nalbina once again, only there is no war and the fortress is being rebuilt. He had attracted many stares as he wandered out of the city. His head was a blur of confusion and disorientation. Perhaps, it would all be explained once he reached Rabanstre and found Ashelia, his wife. Honestly, he could not wait to see her again, and hold her in his arms. It was hard having to leave her in the palace, while he went away to fight in the war. The night before he headed off he swore that he would return to her, and now he was fulfilling that promise.
He looked up at the sky, high noon, judging by the position of the sun. There was still a bit of a ways to go before he would finally be home with his family.