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Post by Kidney on Mar 21, 2019 20:58:35 GMT -8
Polluted waters, cracked earth, and the rattle of wagon wheels. Semyon Ageev seemed nearly oblivious to it all, focusing instead on what his slightly wet, slightly muddy hand clenched around. Within his soft grasp was a fat frog, it's greenish-brown exterior slightly swollen due to the pressure Semyon placed on it to keep the amphibian body in place.
Though, as the frog stuck its soft padded toes between his fingers and lept past his head and stuck to the wall behind it, Semyon yelled "Oi!"
The stocky mountainman lept from his seat, shakily balancing on his two feet as the stagecoach slammed to a stop. The clops of the horse hooves and the babbling of the jockey above alerting Semyon that he had indeed reached his destination. With a smile, he peered from the window of the caravan, rushing to the large backpack he had placed on the seat beside him.
Moving past the frog slowly, Semyon yanked his backpack onto his shoulders and grabbed up his rifle, the fishing pole tucked into the backpack scraping the ceiling above and causing Semyon some stress. He stared back at the frog, standing still to gaze upon the motionless creature. He took a single step forward, snapping towards the frog with a fiery vigor, yanking the beast off the wall and bursting through the door with a hearty laugh.
Now, Semyon found himself in a new area. The various buildings that now stood before him, he noticed, seemed nice enough. "Oi blin..." he said, slowly smiling wide and readjusting his hands on the rifle, keeping it level and low.
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Post by Agnes on Apr 2, 2019 10:27:08 GMT -8
Schemmi arrives along the old road, as foretold by the hermit, guiding her way this direction.
She was tired, worn out from the long journey, and more than glad to have arrived at civilization once more.
With her cloak tightly wrapped around her slim body, she fought her way the last few feet, until finally she collapsed at the side of the closest building. before she even checked if she had bruised herself, she frantically pulled her cloak tighter around herself.
It was an old, rugged piece. Too big for her, and scraping along the ground, but she couldn't imagine going without it.
Huddled into the cloth, and shielded from curious eyes, Schemmi calms herself.
it had been a harrowing journey. She needed this break. Needed a moment to regenerate.
At least that's what she kept telling herself, mumbling to herself. That it was okay to rest. That she could finally be at ease.
Would anyone approach her, she would not notice
but the other her would
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Post by Boo Ghostie on Apr 2, 2019 11:23:07 GMT -8
The rattling of a stagecoach began to grate on Glenanne's ears as he was drawn to the midst of the Hamlet. Its sudden halt gave off a sigh of relief as the armored brute pushed his way out from the confines of that wooden carriage. The man peered through the dreariness of the hamlet, letting out an amused snort at its downtrodden atmosphere. Resting his pollaxe against his right shoulder. Feh, this place is an utter shithole. This'll be perfect. With that thought aside, he began to march through the streets. The clanking of armor and the trudging of his boots resonated from him with every step.
Ka-thunk. Ka-thunk. Ka-thunk.
In the corner of his eye he spotted a cloaked figure, a suspicious looking lot in a place that seemed to reek of shadiness. Glenanne's grip tightened around his halberd, with his left hand pressing against a holstered flintlock. It would come to no surprise to him if he were to be attacked in such a region. With the wilderness plagued with brigands, what should he have thought when arriving at a town that situated at the center. In the back of his mind he had hoped that his presumptions of danger was true. Another brigand would mean another bounty, and a handsome reward would be the warmest welcome he could think of.
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Post by Agnes on Apr 2, 2019 11:30:30 GMT -8
Schemmi wasn't aware of the strangers arrive at the Hamlet. She was entirely focused on herself.
Her attempts to calm herself were sloppy, not working.
It was only when the stranger started to make his way towards her, that she suddenly grew aware of his presence. She heavily flinched, and instinctivly pulled on the hood to hide her face.
Yet she fumbled, and for a split second she made the hood shift aside, revealing her young, frightened face underneath. She could not tell the strangers reaction, as the pulled the hood back in its rightfull place. It seemed she had something clutched in her hands, as she mumbeled to herself. Her voice was barely aduible and weak, Easily missed in the busy noise of the streets
If the foreign man would closely examin her, he could tell her body was quivering. Shaking even.
She was trying to hide it, yet miserable failed.
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Post by Kidney on Apr 2, 2019 14:07:04 GMT -8
Semyon heard noises behind him. The shuffle of footsteps, perhaps, but Semyon could only find out one way. He adjusted himself, stuffing some hanging fresh-smelling herbs back into his shirt pocket before catching sight of a hooded figure. This, clearly, seemed to be a possible friend! Though, he did not know it to be an apparition in disguise.
The astute mountain man, in his infinite wisdom, pulled forth an herb from his pocket and held it against the toad he carried in his right hand. With this, he waved a hand at the strangerperson, "Oh! Oh!" he began, stammering a bit, finding the words soon enough, accented heavily by the Rus upbringing of his past. "Greetings! Where is Tavern?"
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Post by Boo Ghostie on Apr 2, 2019 22:03:17 GMT -8
The anticipation was killing him in all honesty. His hand already wrenching his pistol from its holster. It could have been all over, right then and there. With weapon aimed and avarice fueled intent clear. Were it not for the girl's sudden lapse in performance that had made Glenanne stop in his tracks. The man placed his firearm back within its place of rest. Letting out a snort of sadistic pleasure at the pitiful whelp that had shuddered away from him. Instead he turned his attention to the one hollering out behind him. Despite the hollering's clear direction towards the pup, he decided to answer in kind.
"No use wif' 'is one. Seems she's more the mutterin' type." Glenanne answered on her behalf. Turning around to get a gander at the man who tried to garner the woman's attention. Peering him up and down, just for the unlikely chance of a possible confrontation.
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Post by Agnes on Apr 3, 2019 3:01:25 GMT -8
Luckily, schemmi couldn't spot the pistol. She was way too occupied with trying to pretend she was alone, that she didn't see the second intruder either.
It was only when she heard the voice that she peeked out of her hood, towards the stranger now approaching. For a split second she thought she had recognized his accent,but she had trouble assigning it any region.
She had travelled so much in her life, it would be a wonder if she hasn't heard it anywhere else before.
Her mouth had already opened to answer the question, when she was beat to it by the first passerby.
Her head lowered and she whispered so quietly that in the noise of the Hamlet, neither could understand her. It was unlikely that they even knew she had tried to talk either way.
Her good had shifted once more, letting the newcomer get a look at her vulnerablility.
On her neck, a faint trail of green could be seen. Like a Vine, stuck to her sweaty skin
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Post by azmoham on Apr 3, 2019 12:19:24 GMT -8
From his spot in the doorway, the man could make out a few others milling about the square in the steadily fading light. Dusk came swiftly on and settled in among the roofs and streets and trees, the young man took a greedy breath of the clean air and released it out again. The first touches of green hung in the air like the aroma from a far-off feast, and a few lonesome birds swooped in and out and among the eeves and danced in the cool evening air.
This peace was broken by voices, loudly they stretched across the square, one warped and riddled with some foreign accent and the other seemingly belonging to one of the local peasants judging by the accent. Moving from the doorstep, Giles soon enough spotted what he assumed to be at least one of the men who’d spoken. His towering frame seemed almost comical when compared to the scale of the things around him, and on his person. Bristling with equipment, the man seemed to be an entire trapper’s camp on two legs. Smirking with mild derision at his clumsy speech and slurred words, the young man raised a blue-clad arm in greeting.
“Ah! Greetings fellow, I believe you’re looking for this building just here.”
Giles waved a hand towards the alehouse, before looking towards the other voice he heard. It was difficult to make out anything concrete in the dusky light, but he thought he could make out the form of the other speaker, and something at his feet…?
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Post by Kidney on Apr 3, 2019 14:32:06 GMT -8
Semyon was confused. The silence that he offered in response to the gibberish this new individual spat in his direction punctuated by the croak of the scared frog in his right hand. As another person spoke to him, he jumped, the rattle of the campsite upon his own back clinking a similar tune to the man who spoke now. The Rus smiled wide, yellowed teeth shining oddly.
Semyon approached the fellow camper with eager eyes, the tall column of a fishing pole from Semyon's pack waving as frantically as how he had waved at the hooded figure. The tall furred hat of Semyon was tipped to Giles, "Ah, thank you...I-" the man stammered, looking up with a suddenness inclinative of an idea, "I cannot repay you for this."
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Post by azmoham on Apr 7, 2019 12:31:16 GMT -8
Giles smiled politely at the man, though noting with some distaste the yellow hue of his teeth and the rough musky smell the man carried with him.
“Ah, no payment needed my dear fellow, though you do look like the sort who might be acquainted with this area. Perhaps you could share what you know of this area with me?”
He raised his brows with an inquisitive look, folding his hands behind his back. In the fading light of the sun, which struck blood red and burnt orange against the off-white of the buildings which hemmed in the square, Semyon looked quite strange. With his wild hair and odd attire, his person jangling with wares of all sort he resembled almost one of those spirits of the countryside Giles’ grandmother had told him of when he was young.
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Post by Kidney on Apr 7, 2019 17:39:04 GMT -8
Semyon cocked his head to the side, a fidgeting man, he shrugged in relative ignorance and gestured wildly to the rest of the area. "Oh, I don't even know!" He shared this ignorance with such an exuberance that his fishing pole whipped through the air with a slight 'whoosh' as he shuffled about.
Semyon raised his frog to his cheek, "I know, that you have toads." He said with a toothy smile, the frog had a seemingly neutral expression, confirming its indifference with a small croak. Semyon turned to the amphibian, "Aye, quite a pizdek, I agree."
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Post by Agnes on Apr 8, 2019 1:25:42 GMT -8
Schemmi did not like the stranger, which had first approached er. He seemed far too violent, from what little she had seen from him. Like the kind that would enjoy slaughter. Instead she felt a sort of kinship with the stranger, looking like a pale ghost. He reminded her of her own Condition. An outcast as well maybe?
She decides to leave the mud in which she had cowered until now and get to her feet. She makes sure that her hood was up, covering her face.
With a quick flick of her wrist, the green part stuck to her neck was flipped into the back of her cloak, vanishing from sight.
Once she as on her feet, She started walking around the two strangers standing in the middle of the street. Schemmi watched one of them talk to his little companion, and felt a sort of heartache. She would never be able to share any memories with her "pet" like he did.
With slow steps, shuffling around and carefull to not step into anything she would later regret, she made her way towards Giles, avoiding eye contact with any of the other men in her presence. She was only interested in getting a closer look and the less attention she got, the better.
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Post by azmoham on Apr 8, 2019 10:52:54 GMT -8
He ‘hm’ed thoughtfully at the Rus’ comment, glancing towards the other figure across the square silently before returning his gaze towards the man in-front of him, as he did so he thought he saw something stir gently in the shadows that clung heavily to the feet of the old town, but quickly assumed it was some sort of cat or stray animal that was searching the muck for scraps and dismissed it.
“Well, where are my manners? I should introduce myself properly first, my name is Giles Knight, a pleasure sir.”
He extended his hand towards the man. “I must admit I’m quite intrigued by your bearing sir, it is quite rare that one sees a trapper this far west, though I suppose there is much to be hunted in these woods should half the stories are true.”
He smirked, nodding off towards the murky treeline, the leaves gasping gently in the evening breeze.
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Post by Kidney on Apr 8, 2019 14:16:49 GMT -8
Semyon chuckled, "I don't know much manners, though it is great to meet, Giles. Semyon Ageev!" He said the last bit with a bit of a jump, tapping his left ear as he spoke his first name. "And this, is..." he trailed off, falling quiet, and forgot what he was going to say as Giles continued.
Semyon was intrigued. He offered really nothing crazy to the comment, but a hopeful expression and an "Oo."
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Post by Kidney on Apr 8, 2019 17:45:42 GMT -8
Tod was rattled, rubbing his soft forehead and running fingers through his hair. His green eyes peering from half-lids as he stared at Ignis's backside of her head. He listened to her, her chuckle and her steps. He nearly stumbled on his own stiff leg, smirking and giggling to himself. Though, pangs of guilt rushed through him. "Ignis," he said, stopping himself. "thank you."
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