*The Verge of War* A Medieval Rp

[Athaid]

Alfric turned to face the strange man who had just entered. His voice seemed somewhat familiar.
"I think so." He croaked, shading his eyes from the light with his hand.

 

[Flock Master64]

My name is Azor by the way, I'm one of the Alnwick Castle guards. What's your name?

 

[Athaid]

Alnwick?
"James." He lied.
"Where are we?"

 

[Flock Master64]

Well, were in a small village called Amangus. So James tell me, how did you end up in that river?

 

[Athaid]

Alfric looked down at floor, at his bare feet dangling just above the wooden boards. He never was a good liar.
"I, I fell off the bridge." He coughed. He could feel Azor's glare burning into him.
Amangus.. The name was new to him.

 

[Flock Master64]

( I came up with the name just now )

 

[Athaid]

(I figured )

 

[Flock Master64]

( I thought it sounded good) what were you doing out so late? He asked out of curiosity

 

[Athaid]

"I.. I was invited to the ball." The light from the fire flickered, casting long shadows which danced on the stone walls. "The one at Alnwick castle." He added, glancing up at Azor.

 

[Bantambird]

Pushing carefully through the underbrush separating the meadow from the river, Herja then stopped on the banks. While keeping her ears open for any divergent sounds in the night, Herja looked along the river bank for signs of large animals for hunting. After tracing her steps along the soft loamy soil, she came across a scruffy patch of dirt, turned up by a fleeing horse. " Perfect! If it's feral, I'm certainly not above eating that! I'm hungry enough..."
She began tracking the fresh horse tracks, her stomach leading the way.