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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. |
The Redblade had drifted in from New Brunswick having had just finished a set of armour that would have rivalled those of the medieval ages. The luperci that had requested it had been a mercenary with a hobby of collecting old weaponry and armour, using it on his victims or to collect dust amongst his collection. It had been made out of iron plate, which the customer himself had collected, fit to the form of a luperci's body, so light weight that movement was not unbearably impeded and inlaid with a filigree design. Kargek had spent months on it and all for what was between his legs at that moment.
The gelding was a beautiful creature, a draft horse with a dappled grey coat and pristine white mane and feathered legs, all the equine was missing was its tail which Kargek made up for with his long plume. The luperci himself was intimidating to look upon, standing above seven feet tall with a largely muscular body, covered in brown and dark cream fur save for his head, which was pitch black. Various tools bounced around his toned waist as the gelding trotted across the plains of Drifter Bay ears back complacently for his masters commands as the Redblade rode bareback upon his steed, a rusted blade strapped across his back. Suddenly the dappled equine came up short, ears twitching towards something hiding amongst the brush. Kargek looked in the direction with his brown and hazel eyes, only to be met by the sight of three bandits. "That stupid creature gave us away," the tallest of them remarked, clearly amused. The other two; a short, plump luperci with a scowl in place and a younger, skinnier lad with shifty eyes didn't seem to share their leaders amusement.
Kargek, not one to run from anyone or anything, used his knees to guide his gelding about to face the small group. "Wha'dya want?" He grumbled, none to impressed by the interruption. "Ah, y'know," said the obvious leader of the group. "Just curious as to where you're off to, we saw them blacksmith tools," Kargek lay a hand on them mindfully, an ear flicking back to rid it of a fly. It was turning into an increasingly hot day. "Halifax," he replied tursly, putting pressure into the gelding's side to turn him so they could be on their way. "To bad you won't make it that far," Kargek turned his head with bared teeth when everything went black. The young, thin boy of the group had thrown a large rock at the Redblade's head.
After a time the man began to sway in and out of consciousness, catching tidbits of what the bandits were saying. "That bloody fucking horse took a chunk right out of me," one of them said in a deep, gravely voice, most likely the plump one. "Leave th' beast then, we'll just take his belongings." Kargek groaned and started to push himself up and with a shrill "shit!" he was out cold again.
The bandits were long gone now, the Redblade unconscious amongst the dry grasses and wildflowers, his steed agitated and pawing at the ground dangerously close to the mans head. He was weak as a kitten, something he hadn't been since he was a mewling pup at his mothers teat. If he had been awake then he would have been a raging storm, a fury on his steed chasing after the bandits whom had robbed him of all of his possessions save for a loincloth around his waist, they had even taken his fathers rusted blade, so dull it was worthless save for sentimental value. The day carried on as if nothing had happened though, the birds chirping their songs and the sun rising and then falling into early evening.
Those bandits would not live long.