[m] A movie script ending

Shaamah

POSTED: Sat Apr 06, 2019 12:19 pm

WARNING: This thread contains material exceeding the general board rating of PG-13. It may contain very strong language, drug usage, graphic violence, or graphic sexual content. Reader discretion is advised.

Chaos is a ladder
And the climb is all there is

With the rains April brought, Andrew was sure the bulletin he left in the ruin square that morning would be washed away. Gathering stones for the barracks. Pictou River, it read. His name was signed at the bottom of the parchment with great care in calligraphic script. Of course, the Serf expected no aid in his task, despite its great contribution to the Thistle Kingdom. Yet, Andrew would do all he could to expediate the process of building a barracks for the shield, for it was something he could attach his name to.

Even in foul weather, the Serf would not be deterred. The faster this job was done, the faster Andrew would earn his place among the Salsolan elite where he could serve the Quartermaster as she saw fit.

He led a cart and horse through the rain toward the Pictou River. Wooden wheels slogged through the mud and muck of Salsola's paths with great difficulty, yet the serf made good time to the river's edge. There was enough stone along the Pictou to build a barracks a hundred times over, but moving each individual stone to the build site was an arduous task indeed. Andrew was thankful that he could use Salsola's carts -- but even then, it would be a long and difficult day of hauling stones from a cold river bed.

The Serf set about his work alone, loading heavy stones into the back of his cart. One by one.

Sorry for being so slow!.
We are what we are. Get in the goddamn car.
Salsola
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Ryan
Luperci Creatore Mate to Narcissa I HAVE A BIG HEAD AND LITTLE ARMS

POSTED: Tue May 14, 2019 12:39 am

Unrelenting seemed the muddy soup that spring brought on it's shower laden cloak of rising temperatures. Just as unrelenting as the Tradesmen seemed to be in such weather. Where some might feign at the notion of toiling in the rain, Shaamah embraced the boons of it, and in that, he could work well through the day and into the night without wearing thin from heat. Today's routine, however, held a much different tune to march to. A walk through the ruins to fetch his tekko for training proved this with the pittance of a stream where a paper sailed like a boat to the sea.

Even his lone eye could find the ink that stained it's surface, and it stole his attention enough to inspect it. Leaning to lift the parcel from the waters, he saw nothing legible save for the name and the place penned, and at the top of the page was written 'stone'. Shaamah was without his armor, as it still dried from the last downpour on the cross shaped hanger to maintain it's shape, but surely his tekko would suffice. Andrew was no threat, but a note that traveled like trash through the streets was suspicious enough to investigate.

Black pants clung to his frame, and the leather belt that encompassed most of his waist was nearly vacuumed to his form as he moved through the rainy streets and onward toward the Pictou. Stony roads changed into muddy paths as Andrews scent carried heavily on the water against the surface of the earth. From there, he found the toiling form of the slighter creature. Salsola's cart was in his possession, and the moment Shaamah caught the motion of Andrew loading the cart with stone, his suspicions had redirected. The serf, newly freed from his bonds by the Quartermaster, was working on behalf of Salsola.

The Tradesmen moved quietly beside the working man, his presence certainly incapable of a underhanded entrance as was his greatest gift and weakness alike,” Serf,” Shaamah addressed the coyote, with a less than usual show of teeth for his kind. Even as fouled as Andrew was in life, in his freedom he sought to labor for Salsola. It was an admirable notion, considering where the man had come from, but unfortunately, he was still a coyote and that was reason enough not to trust the ruddy Serf. Even so, Shaamah would expect the proper display before he'd further any movement toward assisting the man. He was curious to see exactly how much of Salsola the Serf was willing to respect.


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