Thread: Fellowship Of Forodwaith (Karameida & darkangel76)

Vaemyr Vaemyr studied the settlement as best he could but the ominously starless night sky did little to aid him in his endeavor. The moon shone bright in the sky but only fell in small patches here and there looking so much like a silvery glowing escape in the otherwise suffocating darkness. He let out a long suffering sigh, the trip had proven to be harder on him and his mount than he'd first thought. He was out of his element in this frozen landscape. The terrain was difficult and deceptive, one could not simply traverse the frozen land as you would any other. You had to move slowly and carefully and this had delayed him by quite a bit. Though it was several days later than he'd have liked he had eventually reached Pynti-Peldot. He had also made another miscalculation when it came to the people who called Forodwaith home. He had expected some wariness or suspicion, what he had not counted on was the open hostility and anger that he found all too often in their gazes. He sighed again as he weaved his Destrier through the settlement with a deft hand and a natural ease that was a trademark of a true leader. The horse responded to his control completely, recognizing and acknowledging the strength and will of the rider. The man exuded a dark strength that some may have feared but it was tempered with an iron clad control that one could only admire. This was not a man who acted upon his emotions. He was not a man one could manipulate, nor someone you could cross and get away unscathed. He was by no means infallible but he coupled his skill in battle, his strength with his intelligence and that got him far and made him quite deadly. He was also a very patient man. Vaemyr kept his watchful gaze focused on the area around him and kept one hand near his blade. One could never be certain of when an attack would happen, so he lived by the simple rule better safe than sorry. If it hadn't been for the fact that the sun had already sunk below the horizon he might have just continued to ride on northward. However, trying such a thing at night was foolish. This area was hazardous enough during the day, no telling what trouble he'd run into at night. So when the sun had begun to disappear he'd turned his horse to Pynti-Peldot in search of an inn. The wind whipped around him tugging at his shoulder length hair and the chill seeped through his armor and clothes. With a slight movement he pulled his warm cloak tighter around his large frame. He'd come to Forodwaith weeks earlier and had more or less been wandering from settlement to settlement getting a feel for the area and it's inhabitants. He was surprised to find so many people still living in the frozen wastelands. He wasn't sure why -if they were all so un-happy here- they didn't just pack up and leave? He'd attempted to find out but no one would willingly talk to him and few had even reacted in outright fear. He didn't much like what that signified. Something deep in his gut had confirmed that there was something very wrong going on in the lands of Forodwaith but he did not know what. He wasn't sure exactly how he could help them either. They certainly did not look like they were willing to help themselves and that he decided was a battle in and of itself. The people were not willing to act and help themselves and he very much doubted they would welcome an outsiders help. He shook his head and pushed those troubling thoughts aside. For now he needed an inn to spend the night in and something to ward off the chill that was clinging to his bones. His gaze swept over an old wooden sign and he could just make out the words Snowy Eagle Inn. Well, at least they had one. Turning his horse he headed over to the inn. He came to a halt outside of it and dismounted it with languid ease. On the ground he stretched his stiff body until several cracks and pops issued from the vicinity of his back, shoulders and legs. Satisfied he walked into the inviting or not so inviting depending on how you looked at it warmth of the Inn. Several people looked at him as he stood in the door-way and swept his gaze across those inside and he causally rested his hand familiarly against the hilt of his blade. Most of them averted their gaze. Satisfied he found an unoccupied table off to the side and sat down. And another night was going to be spent in the realm somewhere between sleep and wakefulness, with his sword tucked close to his body Vaemyr grumbled his appreciation when a pint of cheap ale was set in front of him several minutes later. He took a long drink and set the cup down hiding a grimace. Stuff was certainly very cheap but it did what it was supposed to do and chased out the last remnants of cold that had persisted in clinging to him after he'd come into the warm lodgings. He felt the eyes of a few curious gazes slide in his direction before darting away to mind their own business. The light from the flames flickered over the hard unyielding planes of his face and over the breadth of his armored shoulders forming deep pools of shadows that made him look as if he could have crawled from the netherworld. A man with ice in his veins rather than the warm life blood that flowed through most all living creatures. He lifted his ale and took another drink as his eyes drifted from table to table taking in the tiny details. Not many travelers were here, he mentally noted. They were all Lossoth. His eyes stilled and he slowly lowered his drink as his eyes fixed on a woman across the way. Well it seemed he'd been incorrect when he thought they were all Lossoth. There was something very familiar about that woman..something. He studied her a moment longer and when it hit him he about toppled over in surprise. It couldn't be... he thought collecting his scattered wits. It was surely impossible. There was no way that Brynne, daughter of the nobleman Bastion would be this far from Dale completely alone. It had been two years since he'd last seen her. Two years since he had left Dale for the second time in his life. But there was no mistaking the striking resemblance between the Brynne he remembered from two years ago and the woman who now sat at the other end of the Inn. It was certainly the same person, either that or there was some kind of hallucinogen in the ale he just drank. Once upon a time he'd guarded the home of Bastion and his daughter Brynne. He had spent nearly three years guarding them. It was in the last year of his service that he'd happened across Brynne in the vast gardens sewing in the shade of a tree. He had been very impressed with her beautiful needlework and had asked if she would sew him a tunic and stitch in a design on his cloak. In point of fact, he was wearing the tunic she had made him as well as the cloak with the embroidery design. They were both of excellent quality and he was sure she could have made a fair bit of money for her skills. He regarded the woman who looked so much like Brynne with thinly veiled curiosity. Well one thing was for certain, he wouldn't learn the truth this way. He downed the rest of the bad ale and set the cup down carefully before standing up. He adjusted his cloak with a few impatient movements of his hand and brushed his windswept hair away from his face. With a little grunt he made his way carefully to the corner of the room that the female occupied. He came to a stop a few paces away and spoke Good Evening M'lady. he said in a low voice that carried well over the low hums of conversation. He almost never raised his voice past conversational levels, he'd never had too. His voice carried this strength that somehow made the words clear as day no matter the surrounding noise. It was not something one cultivated, it is something you are born with. Something inherent to you alone. He watched her turn her head to look at him. He bowed slightly in respect. This close up he was absolutely certain that this woman was Brynne but he wasn't entirely certain she'd remember one of the numerous guards that had prowled through her home. That and one had to take into consideration time. Two years was a long time, for humans anyway. A lot could happen in two years time. Might I ask what brings you so far from Dale? he inquired. He noticed that she was twirling her finger in her and he hid a smile. He'd seen her do it often enough before when he'd strolled through the Bastions extensive maze like gardens. It was surprising finding out just how much he remembered from his time in service to Bastion. She had been a child about to step into womanhood when he left, so it was likely she would not remember him. Forgive me M'lady, I am Vaemyr. I once worked for your father. he said introducing himself and bowing once more.