Hello loves! While I haven't been writing, I have been working on updating some issues that have been hanging around on the layout! The Character change box is now at the bottom of the page, beside the up/down arrows! Green and Gold dragon flight dates have been shifted to the bottom of the page, where the (useless!) discord widget was located. Where the dragon flights were in the header, is now replaced by a Monthly Event box! This will be updated at the start of each month, with a fun mini-event you can take part in, if you want to! Thistle!
24.Jan.14, 10:14 AM
Ekshan shifted the sack, which had been bumping against his leg for the entire walk to the Hold. Now it could bump the other leg for a few minutes. He begun his journey alone. The desolate path had stretch off toward the Hold with only himself upon it. He didn't mind being alone. With no one else around he didn't have anyone else to keep an eye on in case they wanted to see what he was carrying, or how many marks were nestled in his pocket. He didn't have to pretend to care about what was going on in their life. Conversations were tricky things and he often struggled to keep one going. His suspicious side tended to take over, making replies short and defensive. He also didn't really care about what was going on in the life of some stranger. He had enough of his own problems that he didn't need to add to the load.
As he neared the Hold the number of people going and coming increased. Each new face received the same quick examination as Ekshan decided whether or not they posed a threat. Most were much like he was, simple cotholders. A few crafters were thrown into the mix, but it was rare that they would lower themselves enough to converse with a cotholder. He ignored most of the various shops as he pasted once he arrived. A couple got a brief glance which brought a brief spark of envious desire for the merchandise he could not afford. One day he would satisfy those desires, but for now it was not worth the time spent imagining it.
He ducked into a smithy, the one his father always used. The clang of metal on metal set his nerves on edge. The heat of the forge intensifying smells of hot metal and sweat. There was a rhythm to the place with the steady clang of hammers against red hot metal punctuated by the hiss of steam as someone plunged their creation into a waiting barrel of water. If hammers were the heart of the place then the billows were the lungs as they fanned the coals upon which various creations were being heated. Ekshan took it all in with one sweeping look, before he moved toward the man in charge. "I need this mended by the end of the day." He let his sack drop to the stone floor with a metallic clatter. Reaching in he pulled out the two pieces of a broken scythe. "If you can't do it I'll find someone who can." He said before the frowning smith could protest. The brawny man scowled as he grabbed the pieces away from Ekshan, turning them over in a pair of massive hands. They were hands that could have strangled a Runner without much effort, bearing the calluses and scars from years at their craft. "Come back in a couple hours." The smith finally grunted. Ekshan nodded, fishing a wooden mark from his pocket. "You'll get the rest when I pick it up." He promised, flipping the mark toward the man before he left.
Ekshan stepped out of the shop, glad to leave behind the heat and noise of the place. Calling the air outside fresh would be an overstatement, not with the scents of manure and refuse mixing with the odor of the nearby food stalls. It was at least cooler and given a few minutes he knew the smells would not be quite so noticeable. He down he fumbled at his pocket, long fingers pushing his small sack of coins a little deeper. His momentary inattention nearly caused a collision as a splash of green appeared in his periphery. His reaction was reflexive as he twisted past the figure, somehow avoiding a full on hit. Eskan spun about to face his almost victim. The other man was a sight. Red hair was enough to make him stand out on it's own, but the green vest was at odds with the rest of his patchy outfit. The vest spoke of wealth, but the rest of his clothing was not much better than Ekshans own, patched and dirt stained attire. He looked nearish in age to Ekshan, and was even skinnier than he was. "Sorry." He blurted, not wanted to just walk off after almost running the other man over, but also not quite sure what else to say. He didn't feel it was entirely his fault, but the word came out any way.
As he neared the Hold the number of people going and coming increased. Each new face received the same quick examination as Ekshan decided whether or not they posed a threat. Most were much like he was, simple cotholders. A few crafters were thrown into the mix, but it was rare that they would lower themselves enough to converse with a cotholder. He ignored most of the various shops as he pasted once he arrived. A couple got a brief glance which brought a brief spark of envious desire for the merchandise he could not afford. One day he would satisfy those desires, but for now it was not worth the time spent imagining it.
He ducked into a smithy, the one his father always used. The clang of metal on metal set his nerves on edge. The heat of the forge intensifying smells of hot metal and sweat. There was a rhythm to the place with the steady clang of hammers against red hot metal punctuated by the hiss of steam as someone plunged their creation into a waiting barrel of water. If hammers were the heart of the place then the billows were the lungs as they fanned the coals upon which various creations were being heated. Ekshan took it all in with one sweeping look, before he moved toward the man in charge. "I need this mended by the end of the day." He let his sack drop to the stone floor with a metallic clatter. Reaching in he pulled out the two pieces of a broken scythe. "If you can't do it I'll find someone who can." He said before the frowning smith could protest. The brawny man scowled as he grabbed the pieces away from Ekshan, turning them over in a pair of massive hands. They were hands that could have strangled a Runner without much effort, bearing the calluses and scars from years at their craft. "Come back in a couple hours." The smith finally grunted. Ekshan nodded, fishing a wooden mark from his pocket. "You'll get the rest when I pick it up." He promised, flipping the mark toward the man before he left.
Ekshan stepped out of the shop, glad to leave behind the heat and noise of the place. Calling the air outside fresh would be an overstatement, not with the scents of manure and refuse mixing with the odor of the nearby food stalls. It was at least cooler and given a few minutes he knew the smells would not be quite so noticeable. He down he fumbled at his pocket, long fingers pushing his small sack of coins a little deeper. His momentary inattention nearly caused a collision as a splash of green appeared in his periphery. His reaction was reflexive as he twisted past the figure, somehow avoiding a full on hit. Eskan spun about to face his almost victim. The other man was a sight. Red hair was enough to make him stand out on it's own, but the green vest was at odds with the rest of his patchy outfit. The vest spoke of wealth, but the rest of his clothing was not much better than Ekshans own, patched and dirt stained attire. He looked nearish in age to Ekshan, and was even skinnier than he was. "Sorry." He blurted, not wanted to just walk off after almost running the other man over, but also not quite sure what else to say. He didn't feel it was entirely his fault, but the word came out any way.
