06-07-2011, 07:41 AM
WC: 550+ don't feel obligated to match the length. Inrik is in optime form and it is dawn. Location is outskirts halifax in a residential area.
There was a whistle in the air as the wind violently rushed through the dead streets. The breeze thick with moisture as droplets of water pelted the old broken road. Along with the wind and rain was a strange noise to add to the eerie array. A creaking of moist wood upon wood, the crunch of pebbles to follow and the distinct sound of hooves clicking slowly. The only sound absent among the grouping was the silent steps of a dark cloaked creature. In the darkness of the very early morning all that peered visible were the glow of his eyes. Only a shimmer in the black hole of clothe and fur.
Before long in their short journey into the dead city light begun to form from the rising sun. They stopped suddenly. This travel had been their furthest and longest so the exhaustion in their bodies was quite apparent. A deep rich voice spilled through the dark cloak perking the ears of the light speckled stallion. This will do. He had referred to an old house in the vanishing neighborhood. The dilapidated home that use to house the creatures he had known as the men of old was sturdy. He knew it would be a sufficient temporary lodging. He started unhooking the stallion relieving it of its heavy burden. He patted the horse before leading it to the stable like home next to the main building. The hooves banged loudly as it crunched into old metal of a fallen door. His horse would be safe and dry here he had thought.
The wagon he had unhooked was large, shallow and crafted of thick boards held tight with ribbons of metal. It was covered securely with stitched hides designed to keep moisture from the contents. The male loosened the rear ropes of the flatbed wagon. He unhinged a gate allowing it to creak and crash open releasing a loud noise like a crack of thunder. He didn’t much care for secrecy or stealth, he knew how to take care of himself. The contents of the wagon made the creature smile as it often had when he opened it. To some all they would see was a pile of junk, useless trinkets of old metal. Though behind lay the real treasure, bricks of golden metal and further yet weapons neatly crafted by a skilled hand. The male though did not smile for all those goods, he smiled for the object he had strained to remove from the edge of the wagon. An anvil, he had strategically placed it on the lawn of the old leaky house his mind already mentally picturing how the area was to become in the next few days.
When the rain clears he would begin his work. It was the only thing that gave him joy and lucky enough it often brought him food, shelter, bedding, metals and at times females. It was a good life to live shaping metal for others. He stood a moment and glanced about the area. He horse already asleep in the small stable. His anvil waited patiently for his hammer and the outskirts of the city seemed to welcome him with a ray of sun upon his face. A small smile fell upon the male he eyes shimmered like flame and sparks within mud above a black and white snout. Today was going to be a good day.
There was a whistle in the air as the wind violently rushed through the dead streets. The breeze thick with moisture as droplets of water pelted the old broken road. Along with the wind and rain was a strange noise to add to the eerie array. A creaking of moist wood upon wood, the crunch of pebbles to follow and the distinct sound of hooves clicking slowly. The only sound absent among the grouping was the silent steps of a dark cloaked creature. In the darkness of the very early morning all that peered visible were the glow of his eyes. Only a shimmer in the black hole of clothe and fur.
Before long in their short journey into the dead city light begun to form from the rising sun. They stopped suddenly. This travel had been their furthest and longest so the exhaustion in their bodies was quite apparent. A deep rich voice spilled through the dark cloak perking the ears of the light speckled stallion. This will do. He had referred to an old house in the vanishing neighborhood. The dilapidated home that use to house the creatures he had known as the men of old was sturdy. He knew it would be a sufficient temporary lodging. He started unhooking the stallion relieving it of its heavy burden. He patted the horse before leading it to the stable like home next to the main building. The hooves banged loudly as it crunched into old metal of a fallen door. His horse would be safe and dry here he had thought.
The wagon he had unhooked was large, shallow and crafted of thick boards held tight with ribbons of metal. It was covered securely with stitched hides designed to keep moisture from the contents. The male loosened the rear ropes of the flatbed wagon. He unhinged a gate allowing it to creak and crash open releasing a loud noise like a crack of thunder. He didn’t much care for secrecy or stealth, he knew how to take care of himself. The contents of the wagon made the creature smile as it often had when he opened it. To some all they would see was a pile of junk, useless trinkets of old metal. Though behind lay the real treasure, bricks of golden metal and further yet weapons neatly crafted by a skilled hand. The male though did not smile for all those goods, he smiled for the object he had strained to remove from the edge of the wagon. An anvil, he had strategically placed it on the lawn of the old leaky house his mind already mentally picturing how the area was to become in the next few days.
When the rain clears he would begin his work. It was the only thing that gave him joy and lucky enough it often brought him food, shelter, bedding, metals and at times females. It was a good life to live shaping metal for others. He stood a moment and glanced about the area. He horse already asleep in the small stable. His anvil waited patiently for his hammer and the outskirts of the city seemed to welcome him with a ray of sun upon his face. A small smile fell upon the male he eyes shimmered like flame and sparks within mud above a black and white snout. Today was going to be a good day.