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Vanilla - Around the Campfire
Main Entry
Timeframe : 1260
A spectacular bonfire had taken up residence at the center of the courtyard, broad coils of red sparking and lapping at the evening sky. Every inch of the yard was wrapped in its sweltering heat, the walls awash with the dancing glow.
Every soldier in the fort was gathered about the blaze, the majority in patches and scraps of armor, weapons strapped close at hand, more than a few nursing the remnants of wounds. Food and drink passed freely among them, with broad smiles and hearty laughter, as if, for just one night, everyone was in agreement to cast a blind eye to all the steel and blood among them.
From her place against the wall, Ski scanned the crowd. Lyssa was there, bottle in hand, as was to be expected, Rune stationed beside her with an arm tight across her shoulders and a scowl at any man that looked her way. Wyatt, in particular, was taking great care not to catch his ire, his back set firmly to the both of them. In response to every angry glare, Lyssa would slap Rune’s arm or jab him in the ribs, and nervous laughter would pass between the two.
A glass in her tiny hand, Ilya gave the flames a gloomy stare. She forced a smile into place as Tess and Farran came to fuss over her. Before long, the pretense faded and tension drained, and the three knights laughed in earnest.
Kairn, huddled nervous mass that he was, clung to the shadows along the wall. Shasa, waddling slowly, staggering under her own misbalanced weight, refused to be dissuaded in her efforts to drag him out into the light, or to ply him with food, much as he continued to protest.
Ski took a sip of her drink and sighed, shaking her head at the dissarray, the bit of celebration in the midst of war. How unreal the whole thing seemed. A great, hulking form shuffled close, armor rattling, the only member of her crew she’d yet to account for.
“Everything alright?” said Tristan, sliding into place beside her.
A big, thick hand engulfed her own. “Yes,” she said, gazing down at their entwined fingers, and she couldn’t help but smile. She gave his hand a squeeze. “For the moment, I think it is.”
Main Entry
Timeframe : 1260
A spectacular bonfire had taken up residence at the center of the courtyard, broad coils of red sparking and lapping at the evening sky. Every inch of the yard was wrapped in its sweltering heat, the walls awash with the dancing glow.
Every soldier in the fort was gathered about the blaze, the majority in patches and scraps of armor, weapons strapped close at hand, more than a few nursing the remnants of wounds. Food and drink passed freely among them, with broad smiles and hearty laughter, as if, for just one night, everyone was in agreement to cast a blind eye to all the steel and blood among them.
From her place against the wall, Ski scanned the crowd. Lyssa was there, bottle in hand, as was to be expected, Rune stationed beside her with an arm tight across her shoulders and a scowl at any man that looked her way. Wyatt, in particular, was taking great care not to catch his ire, his back set firmly to the both of them. In response to every angry glare, Lyssa would slap Rune’s arm or jab him in the ribs, and nervous laughter would pass between the two.
A glass in her tiny hand, Ilya gave the flames a gloomy stare. She forced a smile into place as Tess and Farran came to fuss over her. Before long, the pretense faded and tension drained, and the three knights laughed in earnest.
Kairn, huddled nervous mass that he was, clung to the shadows along the wall. Shasa, waddling slowly, staggering under her own misbalanced weight, refused to be dissuaded in her efforts to drag him out into the light, or to ply him with food, much as he continued to protest.
Ski took a sip of her drink and sighed, shaking her head at the dissarray, the bit of celebration in the midst of war. How unreal the whole thing seemed. A great, hulking form shuffled close, armor rattling, the only member of her crew she’d yet to account for.
“Everything alright?” said Tristan, sliding into place beside her.
A big, thick hand engulfed her own. “Yes,” she said, gazing down at their entwined fingers, and she couldn’t help but smile. She gave his hand a squeeze. “For the moment, I think it is.”