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@Simple Unicycle As soon as @burnski replies in IC we can just timeskip to evening.
- Last Seen: 6 yrs ago
- Joined: 11 yrs ago
- Posts: 499 (0.13 / day)
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Simple Unicycle
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Recent Statuses
6 yrs ago
Current
I'M BACK! life is a lot.
6 yrs ago
On vacation until July 9th! May be inactive until then, and likely won't post at all tomorrow because I'll be driving.
6 yrs ago
hey heads up, if you ever want to work at dollar general? don't.
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6 yrs ago
i love this site, i just wish it worked better.
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6 yrs ago
Laptop got sent away for repairs, so I'm writing from my iPad mini. Posts might be briefer than usual til it comes back from the shop.
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Bio
I'm a tiny human who likes writing, even if I'm not always good at it.
Most Recent Posts
@Leo Khan
A figure crossed in front of the far cell and dipped into the dark passageway. As she passed the torches, it became clear that this was a woman in a hooded cloak, with her face covered. She grasped one of the iron bars of Kjalr's cell and pulled back her hood; she was a blond woman with sharp features, wearing a garnet circlet. She stared down at the viking with piercing green eyes.
"If you can't stay quiet yourself, the guards will make sure you're quiet forever." She darted her gaze to either side, and posed a question to Kjalr when she seemed satisfied. "What god will rescue you from this place, Norseman?"
@bloonewb
Winoc nodded. "You've found refuge, but you'd best thank the gods for your fortune. Many here would see you hang from a tree." He went to a chest beside the doorway and retrieved two large quilts, handing one to Sigrid. "What's your name, fréodohtor?"
Mildemaer was beside herself in confusion about the whole situation. Quite defeated, closed the door behind Sibley -- if that was her real name -- and leaned against the wall, sinking down until she was sitting on the floor.
A figure crossed in front of the far cell and dipped into the dark passageway. As she passed the torches, it became clear that this was a woman in a hooded cloak, with her face covered. She grasped one of the iron bars of Kjalr's cell and pulled back her hood; she was a blond woman with sharp features, wearing a garnet circlet. She stared down at the viking with piercing green eyes.
"If you can't stay quiet yourself, the guards will make sure you're quiet forever." She darted her gaze to either side, and posed a question to Kjalr when she seemed satisfied. "What god will rescue you from this place, Norseman?"
@bloonewb
Winoc nodded. "You've found refuge, but you'd best thank the gods for your fortune. Many here would see you hang from a tree." He went to a chest beside the doorway and retrieved two large quilts, handing one to Sigrid. "What's your name, fréodohtor?"
Mildemaer was beside herself in confusion about the whole situation. Quite defeated, closed the door behind Sibley -- if that was her real name -- and leaned against the wall, sinking down until she was sitting on the floor.
@burnski
As rain begins to fall over the town, Beornraed meets his commander in front of the manor. He was holding a piece of parchment with a crimson staurogram as a header. "We've received word from the monastery; the new Justiciar wants to make your acquaintance. Probably another showy layabout, like the rest of his lot." he scoffed, crumpling the missive in his hands.
@bloonewb
Mildemaer barreled through the heavy wooden door shoulder-first, and held it open so Sibley could get through with her. She gave her now blonde friend a puzzled look. "Did something happen?" she asked, not really sure what to think. She set the pup down on the floor and he scurried into the next room, just to be carried back in by a bearded Welshman.
"I'm not telling you again, Cyn, the whelps have to stay in the barn. They shouldn't spend so much time away from their mothers..." his thoughts trailed off as he spied the unexpected guest in his doorway. "Seeking refuge, daughter of Þunor?" he asked simply.
@Simple Unicycle
His smile widened, eyes yet dark. "Certainly." Alexius remounted his horse and looked down at Garod, once more sullen and serious. "I'm expected at Celnaer Manor. You'll come to the monastery at dusk. Farewell."
With that the judge started back down the road, he on his horse and Wilmot walking faithfully beside him. She turned around once to wave at Garod, smiling pleasantly, before carrying on with her master.
As rain begins to fall over the town, Beornraed meets his commander in front of the manor. He was holding a piece of parchment with a crimson staurogram as a header. "We've received word from the monastery; the new Justiciar wants to make your acquaintance. Probably another showy layabout, like the rest of his lot." he scoffed, crumpling the missive in his hands.
@bloonewb
Mildemaer barreled through the heavy wooden door shoulder-first, and held it open so Sibley could get through with her. She gave her now blonde friend a puzzled look. "Did something happen?" she asked, not really sure what to think. She set the pup down on the floor and he scurried into the next room, just to be carried back in by a bearded Welshman.
"I'm not telling you again, Cyn, the whelps have to stay in the barn. They shouldn't spend so much time away from their mothers..." his thoughts trailed off as he spied the unexpected guest in his doorway. "Seeking refuge, daughter of Þunor?" he asked simply.
@Simple Unicycle
His smile widened, eyes yet dark. "Certainly." Alexius remounted his horse and looked down at Garod, once more sullen and serious. "I'm expected at Celnaer Manor. You'll come to the monastery at dusk. Farewell."
With that the judge started back down the road, he on his horse and Wilmot walking faithfully beside him. She turned around once to wave at Garod, smiling pleasantly, before carrying on with her master.
The judge's interest seemed somewhat piqued. "The Kernowyon are looking to buy land in Mercia? Interesting prospect." Alexius noted. "I haven't been to the granite cliffs of Cornwall since I was a boy. For returning my servant, It would be my honor inviting you to a... to a humble supper, and to hear more of the southern coast." he looked at Garod expectantly with a slight grin, but the sullen darkness in his eyes as he stared at the young thief was unmistakable.
Banweald nodded solemnly. "I trust you, Sir Alfred." He said, returning to his table. "Coenwulf will arrive here in a matter of days. See that you men are battle-ready."
The lord spoke flatly, without his previous intensity and without meeting Alfred's eyes. After a significant pause he added, "See to it that Coenwulf trusts you as I do."
He hoped that was possible.
The lord spoke flatly, without his previous intensity and without meeting Alfred's eyes. After a significant pause he added, "See to it that Coenwulf trusts you as I do."
He hoped that was possible.
@burnski
"It'll do you well to answer me again." Banweald asserted, voice stern and deep. He straightened his shoulders as he let the goblet rest again on the table; his eyes never waivered.
It's certainly true that war changes everyone involved; Banweald believed he was better off for it all. He was a free peasant as a youth, unremarkable but for the sword in his hand. A humble farmer's life, feeding hogs and sowing hard earth, was nothing he desired. Banweald hungered for much, much more; riches and concubines, to be certain, but also for able and loyal men at the ready.
Banweald saved his sword-brother because he had nothing to lose and the life of a dear friend on the line... but now, when his dear ally was a weakened subject? What was a lord to do for Alfred, and for the populace in his charge?
Banweald's eyes failed to soften. "My brother, I've broken my rings for you before, and I'll do so again without hesitation. But I cannot, will not, break the rings of my soldiers or the rings of my citizens in fondness for you." He said, voice cracking just slightly at the last word. "You serve me with nothing but loyalty and pride, but the man I stand before now is quite unlike he whos sword arm matched mine."
He paused, searching Alfred's face with uncharacteristic earnesty for signs of life. "If I send you forth to Northumbria, how am I to believe your charge won't run headlong into an ambush like a hogs to the sea?"
@Simple Unicycle
Wilmot nodded with attempted courtesy. "I've not heard your names, sir, but I'm honored to be accompanied by a lord of such status." She said, monotone yet timid. Her eyes brightened as a flash of red fabric on horseback came down the way. "Ah, that may be my master!"
The crimson figure approached unhurried, keeping a steady eye on the pair as his steed plodded along. Sufficiently close, the good judge dismounted and took a few slow steps toward as soft thunderclaps rattled miles away. Wilmot beamed at the gaunt figure clothed in black and red, but said nothing. Finally, the man spoke:
"What business does a wanderer have with a thrall?"
@bloonewb"His estate is on the river; we can come back for the boat when the rain slows. It's a little walk up the road from here." Mildemaer commented. With an offhand thought, she pulled a linen cloth off of her belt and tossed it to her friend, "To cover your head; no use for me." She tucked a knot behind her ear as slow, heavy drops began to pound away at the dirt. She stooped to pick up her hound as they started towards the estate.
"It'll do you well to answer me again." Banweald asserted, voice stern and deep. He straightened his shoulders as he let the goblet rest again on the table; his eyes never waivered.
It's certainly true that war changes everyone involved; Banweald believed he was better off for it all. He was a free peasant as a youth, unremarkable but for the sword in his hand. A humble farmer's life, feeding hogs and sowing hard earth, was nothing he desired. Banweald hungered for much, much more; riches and concubines, to be certain, but also for able and loyal men at the ready.
Banweald saved his sword-brother because he had nothing to lose and the life of a dear friend on the line... but now, when his dear ally was a weakened subject? What was a lord to do for Alfred, and for the populace in his charge?
Banweald's eyes failed to soften. "My brother, I've broken my rings for you before, and I'll do so again without hesitation. But I cannot, will not, break the rings of my soldiers or the rings of my citizens in fondness for you." He said, voice cracking just slightly at the last word. "You serve me with nothing but loyalty and pride, but the man I stand before now is quite unlike he whos sword arm matched mine."
He paused, searching Alfred's face with uncharacteristic earnesty for signs of life. "If I send you forth to Northumbria, how am I to believe your charge won't run headlong into an ambush like a hogs to the sea?"
@Simple Unicycle
Wilmot nodded with attempted courtesy. "I've not heard your names, sir, but I'm honored to be accompanied by a lord of such status." She said, monotone yet timid. Her eyes brightened as a flash of red fabric on horseback came down the way. "Ah, that may be my master!"
The crimson figure approached unhurried, keeping a steady eye on the pair as his steed plodded along. Sufficiently close, the good judge dismounted and took a few slow steps toward as soft thunderclaps rattled miles away. Wilmot beamed at the gaunt figure clothed in black and red, but said nothing. Finally, the man spoke:
"What business does a wanderer have with a thrall?"
@bloonewb"His estate is on the river; we can come back for the boat when the rain slows. It's a little walk up the road from here." Mildemaer commented. With an offhand thought, she pulled a linen cloth off of her belt and tossed it to her friend, "To cover your head; no use for me." She tucked a knot behind her ear as slow, heavy drops began to pound away at the dirt. She stooped to pick up her hound as they started towards the estate.
@burnski
Banweald's smile faded somewhat as he began to speak. "Your second didn't deceive you, I do. Tensions are growing in Northumbria; Coenwulf will need not just men for the frontlines, but he'll need sound strategic minds for his court during wartimes." The lord cooly picked up a goblet of wine and drank from it, glancing to his sword-brother with dark eyes. "How have you been sleeping, Alfred?"
@bloonewb
The tangle-headed girl put her coin away. "Oh, no reason." Rolling thunder echoed in the distance, making the hairs on Mildemaer's neck stand on end while her whelp started to bark incessantly. She glanced to the sky, and the gray clouds of morning had brewed into pitch-black murk that threatened to burst at any moment.
"Would you like to come to my cousin's estate? I doubt many will want to trade during a storm."
Banweald's smile faded somewhat as he began to speak. "Your second didn't deceive you, I do. Tensions are growing in Northumbria; Coenwulf will need not just men for the frontlines, but he'll need sound strategic minds for his court during wartimes." The lord cooly picked up a goblet of wine and drank from it, glancing to his sword-brother with dark eyes. "How have you been sleeping, Alfred?"
@bloonewb
The tangle-headed girl put her coin away. "Oh, no reason." Rolling thunder echoed in the distance, making the hairs on Mildemaer's neck stand on end while her whelp started to bark incessantly. She glanced to the sky, and the gray clouds of morning had brewed into pitch-black murk that threatened to burst at any moment.
"Would you like to come to my cousin's estate? I doubt many will want to trade during a storm."
Sorry for the day delay, everyone; I had to go into work early and didn't have time to write this morning like I thought I would.
@burnski
Beornraed cringe slightly at Alfred's ramblings; he respected his commander greater than any other he'd served, knowing his brilliant strategic mind and the trials he overcame on the battlefield, but some of his behavior was... troubling, at times. "I'll certainly keep my ear to the citizenry, my liege. The day is yet young, but by God's graces, we may see the day peaceful." He watched Alfred ride toward Celnaer Manor, sucking in an uneasy breath when his commander nearly trampled some poor stablehand before the second in command returned to th militia.
As was often the case, Banweald leisurely rose from his sleep later than any of his subjects. He donned a blue silk tunic with intricately woven stripes at its hems and fine black boots, and placed a golden garnet circlet upon his head. When Alfred entered the Manor, the lord was just tucking into a breakfast of honeyed ham and fruit pastries, certainly richer than anything the commander would ever see upon his own table.
Banweald smiled just slightly at Alfred as he approached. "You certainly hurried here; can't even let me eat in peace?" He asked lightly, rising from the table to address the commander properly. He slapped his comrade's shoulder playfully, seeing his troubled look. "I'm only teasing you, sword-brother. No need to have such a grim look."
@Simple Unicycle
Wilmot nodded in quiet agreement, glancing once more up and down the quiet main road of town. For a moment she seemed once more lost, as if watching someone far down the way, but quickly her attention returned to Garod as he finished speaking. "I apologize, I never introduced myself... my name is Wilmot. May I ask for your name, kind sir?"
@bloonewb
Mildemaer caught the pear and took a joyful bite out of it right away. "Keep it up and soon we'll both be called misers!" She joked to Sibley. She finished the pear quickly and saw her pup eyeing her with begging eyes, and mercifully tossed it the core to gnaw on. She'd already sold the hen to a local farmer for a small sum of gold and silver coins which now was tied at her belt, hanging at the fringe of her tunic. Sitting on the bank by Sibley's boat, Mildemaer turned a silver penny over and over between her fingers. "Sibley, can you read any?"
Beornraed cringe slightly at Alfred's ramblings; he respected his commander greater than any other he'd served, knowing his brilliant strategic mind and the trials he overcame on the battlefield, but some of his behavior was... troubling, at times. "I'll certainly keep my ear to the citizenry, my liege. The day is yet young, but by God's graces, we may see the day peaceful." He watched Alfred ride toward Celnaer Manor, sucking in an uneasy breath when his commander nearly trampled some poor stablehand before the second in command returned to th militia.
As was often the case, Banweald leisurely rose from his sleep later than any of his subjects. He donned a blue silk tunic with intricately woven stripes at its hems and fine black boots, and placed a golden garnet circlet upon his head. When Alfred entered the Manor, the lord was just tucking into a breakfast of honeyed ham and fruit pastries, certainly richer than anything the commander would ever see upon his own table.
Banweald smiled just slightly at Alfred as he approached. "You certainly hurried here; can't even let me eat in peace?" He asked lightly, rising from the table to address the commander properly. He slapped his comrade's shoulder playfully, seeing his troubled look. "I'm only teasing you, sword-brother. No need to have such a grim look."
@Simple Unicycle
Wilmot nodded in quiet agreement, glancing once more up and down the quiet main road of town. For a moment she seemed once more lost, as if watching someone far down the way, but quickly her attention returned to Garod as he finished speaking. "I apologize, I never introduced myself... my name is Wilmot. May I ask for your name, kind sir?"
@bloonewb
Mildemaer caught the pear and took a joyful bite out of it right away. "Keep it up and soon we'll both be called misers!" She joked to Sibley. She finished the pear quickly and saw her pup eyeing her with begging eyes, and mercifully tossed it the core to gnaw on. She'd already sold the hen to a local farmer for a small sum of gold and silver coins which now was tied at her belt, hanging at the fringe of her tunic. Sitting on the bank by Sibley's boat, Mildemaer turned a silver penny over and over between her fingers. "Sibley, can you read any?"
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