A Week before The Skalidz Raid.
The day has been long, but fruitful. Orla throw a sack containing today's hunt against an oaken trunk by herr bedroll. A few fat ducks sit snug within the burlap, one of which will make a fine meal as night approaches. As is the case this time of year, the darkness of the forest will be cold and unforgiving. Orla stoke a fire to prepare.
With the arrival of the moon, Orla take the opportunity to relax. The smoky scent of cooked meat wafts through the air, prompting Orla to tear a leg from the bird roasting above her fire. Ripping through crisp, seasoned skin, juices dribble down her neck as she gorge herself on its whitened flesh. As a seasoned traveller, moments like these are truly to be savoured.
Diminishing the fire, Orla roll out her bed and prepare for rest. The woods are far from silent, though the chirping of crickets can lull one to sleep. Tomorrow will be another busy day. Orla close her eyes and allow herself to dream.
Ginger, frizzy hair double braided to reveal a thin wild face. Forest green eyes, set appealingly within their sockets, watching over the village they've rarely felt at home for so long. Soft skin handsomely compliments her nose and leaves a delightful memory of her fortunate upbringing. This is the face of Orla of Sasau. She stand alluringly amongst others, despite her athletic frame. There was always something strange about her, perhaps its her personality or perhaps its simply a feeling of anguish that surround her. But nonetheless, people tend to look at her strange, even give her odd looks, for wearing a sword and armour, while yet learning as much about her as possible.
You could see a set of armour on her athletic form, she wear a breastplate made from one large piece of leather with edges of fur. It covers everything from the neck down and ending at the groin, but the shoulders area is fairy exposed to allow for more movement space. The upper legs are covered by a skirt of diagonal layers of leather and fur reaching below the groin. The lower legs are protected by leather boots which have layers of crafted leather, mimicking dragon scales. Thick leather pants are worn beneath this all. A small thin jagged blade made of steal is held by a grip wrapped in extremely rare, brown ray skin. The sharp, dual-edged blade makes this weapon the choice for any warrior.
Orla looked around the town, watching as people walking around , giving her look, those that she is already used to, yet she didn't care, she was here on a mission, she walked towards the swordsmith Fink who is busy running his forge, as she turned to him and tried to get his attention.
"Still trying to make that sword Fink?" Orla leaned on the wall by the forge.
Fink look up in surprise. "Orla lass you scared the arse out of me. And yes i still do, but to do that i need all five shard of it to make it, The holy pilgrim told me he sold them to blacksmith all over the world. Can you imagine girl, The Sword of Queen Sheba!"
Orla smiles, and look in wonder. ''Yes i do. You been talking about it for a while now. If only...''
Fink looker at her ''If only what lassie, out with it.''
Orla walked a bit closer to him, and smiled. 'I could go and retrieve those shard for you?"
Fink shook his head 'Nay, lassie too dangerous for you to go alone. God forbid woman you end up dead or worse!''
Orla rolled her eyes, " I can take care of myself. Besides I won't be alone. I promise. So what say you?''
Fink nodded his head " Alright...hmm, you should check on Zach he might have one of the shards.''
Orla smiled, ''Will do. Thank Fink, you won't regret this.''
Orla walked out of the forge and whistled for her horse, a brown horse with a white spot on its forehead walked towards her, as she climb up on it. She gently patted the horse on the neck.
''Lets go Virgo. To Master Zach. Ya!'' She galloped out of the town and towards the blacksmith place.
Orla looked around the blacksmith place, as she walked inside. She saw Zach by the forged hard at work. Orla know what she going to have to do. She gently knocked him out, while no one was looking she looted his poked and got the peace of the sword in her bag. Before walking away, towards her horse, and leaving the village.
Orla opened her map, and pointed on the next destination of her journey. 'Talmberg, here we go!'
Orla smiled as she looked upon the sunset, before making camp for the night.
AN: Hello Everyone It's me, yes I am not dead, and so is not my stories. My muse had been absence all those years and months, but I hope I am getting her back, Dealing with a writer block is a worse think that can happen to a writer.
Just to do a little notice, my old stories will continues, but I have little time for writing, so I'll be updating it as fast as I can. Hope my muse will stay with me for longer this time. To all my readers thank you for reading my stories and for your though on them. New stories will be coming on in a future.