Andrael
08-02-08, 02:59 PM
Introductory bit, definitely open though it may have an additional purpose. Give me a poke!
Andrael's first impression was one of weight... horrible weight, burdening her from every side. The ground pressed into her back, sucking her down, binding her with chains of gravity. Dirt and pebbles pressed into her wings, both of which splayed out uncomfortably underneath her, sandwiched between the unyielding earth and her armored form. Each breath was a labor, for the air was so heavy with moisture and sea-level substance that she may as well have been drinking it. So different from the dry, light breezes of home...
Her whole body ached, from the light throbbing in her temples to the dull pain radiating from her booted feet. Muscles she didn't know she had made their presence known. It was as though a titan had drop-kicked her from one of the distant mountains. Perhaps not that bad an analogy, she reflected, chuckling to herself. Planar travel was never easy, and such a jump from the fortress-monastery to this place...
...well, Andrael's lips curved into a small smile. She'd been lucky, or perhaps blessed, to have ended the trip in such good shape.
Despite the heaviness of the air, there was a pleasant breeze blowing from the east, ruffling in her feathers and toying with a lock of hair that lay over her left eye. Andrael's smile broadened, and she stared up into the noonday sun, letting its brilliance wash over and mend her mind. Already, the half-remembered flickers of elemental chaos and darkness were fading, melting under the reassuring light. Her lips formed a litany of thanks, a few simple phrases in Cant, directed up into the skies at whatever force for good had guided her safely here.
Andrael let her consciousness drift with the breeze. She found herself content to lie in place, recover, adapt to this new world where she would serve the Order. Oh, how warm and comforting the sun was... and in the distance, there came the periodic swish of waves breaking on rocks. She'd only heard it twice in her life, but it seemed familiar to something deep inside of her. Soothing. Calling her to sleep, to nap the afternoon away, and--
Taint!
She jolted upright. Agony rippled through her stomach, though the rush of danger-spirit into her blood deadened the pain from her cramps. Both of her eyes flickered around. Her hand reached up to clutch the hilt of her greatsword, but she did not draw.
There was no immediate threat. There was just the rolling of grassland, broken by nearby fields of wheat and barley. A few squat farmhouses dotted a dirt path that she could make out in the distance, one that threaded over the shallow hills towards the walled seaport her briefing had tagged as the city of Scara Brae. The only movement that drew her eye was the swishing of grass in the wake of an especially fat groundhog, on a hill nearby.
"My imagination ... playing cruel tricks," Andrael muttered. Ugh. She sounded as though she'd been eating gravel -- hoarse. Had she really been screaming during the planar trip...? No. No sense in dwelling on that, or on anything that would heighten her apparent paranoia. Calm. Deep breaths. Relax. Focus.
A few moments and a whispered incantation later, and the worry had diminished, leaving calm in its place. The hillock where she'd landed, though, no longer seemed quite such an attractive place for a nap. It would be good to get some city walls between herself and trouble... and, perhaps, a good solid nap between her and the trip across realities.
Standing up was easier than she'd expected; her legs felt sore, and her feet a bit tender as she finished pushing herself up, but nothing worse than the soreness from a long day's walk. She glanced down at herself, taking a final inventory of her limbs and equipment as her wings fluffed out behind her. No obvious wounds, no tearing or even soiling of the cloth over her mail, and the comfortable weight of Divisive remained right where it should be.
Andrael turned and began to stride down the hillock towards the dirt road, on the swiftest route that wouldn't take her through a farmer's crop. Breathing came easier now, and the warmth of the sun eased some of her tension as it warmed the brown wool that pressed into her bared back. Still, she couldn't help but feel a lingering shadow over her; there was something out of place, and she couldn't tell what.
Andrael's first impression was one of weight... horrible weight, burdening her from every side. The ground pressed into her back, sucking her down, binding her with chains of gravity. Dirt and pebbles pressed into her wings, both of which splayed out uncomfortably underneath her, sandwiched between the unyielding earth and her armored form. Each breath was a labor, for the air was so heavy with moisture and sea-level substance that she may as well have been drinking it. So different from the dry, light breezes of home...
Her whole body ached, from the light throbbing in her temples to the dull pain radiating from her booted feet. Muscles she didn't know she had made their presence known. It was as though a titan had drop-kicked her from one of the distant mountains. Perhaps not that bad an analogy, she reflected, chuckling to herself. Planar travel was never easy, and such a jump from the fortress-monastery to this place...
...well, Andrael's lips curved into a small smile. She'd been lucky, or perhaps blessed, to have ended the trip in such good shape.
Despite the heaviness of the air, there was a pleasant breeze blowing from the east, ruffling in her feathers and toying with a lock of hair that lay over her left eye. Andrael's smile broadened, and she stared up into the noonday sun, letting its brilliance wash over and mend her mind. Already, the half-remembered flickers of elemental chaos and darkness were fading, melting under the reassuring light. Her lips formed a litany of thanks, a few simple phrases in Cant, directed up into the skies at whatever force for good had guided her safely here.
Andrael let her consciousness drift with the breeze. She found herself content to lie in place, recover, adapt to this new world where she would serve the Order. Oh, how warm and comforting the sun was... and in the distance, there came the periodic swish of waves breaking on rocks. She'd only heard it twice in her life, but it seemed familiar to something deep inside of her. Soothing. Calling her to sleep, to nap the afternoon away, and--
Taint!
She jolted upright. Agony rippled through her stomach, though the rush of danger-spirit into her blood deadened the pain from her cramps. Both of her eyes flickered around. Her hand reached up to clutch the hilt of her greatsword, but she did not draw.
There was no immediate threat. There was just the rolling of grassland, broken by nearby fields of wheat and barley. A few squat farmhouses dotted a dirt path that she could make out in the distance, one that threaded over the shallow hills towards the walled seaport her briefing had tagged as the city of Scara Brae. The only movement that drew her eye was the swishing of grass in the wake of an especially fat groundhog, on a hill nearby.
"My imagination ... playing cruel tricks," Andrael muttered. Ugh. She sounded as though she'd been eating gravel -- hoarse. Had she really been screaming during the planar trip...? No. No sense in dwelling on that, or on anything that would heighten her apparent paranoia. Calm. Deep breaths. Relax. Focus.
A few moments and a whispered incantation later, and the worry had diminished, leaving calm in its place. The hillock where she'd landed, though, no longer seemed quite such an attractive place for a nap. It would be good to get some city walls between herself and trouble... and, perhaps, a good solid nap between her and the trip across realities.
Standing up was easier than she'd expected; her legs felt sore, and her feet a bit tender as she finished pushing herself up, but nothing worse than the soreness from a long day's walk. She glanced down at herself, taking a final inventory of her limbs and equipment as her wings fluffed out behind her. No obvious wounds, no tearing or even soiling of the cloth over her mail, and the comfortable weight of Divisive remained right where it should be.
Andrael turned and began to stride down the hillock towards the dirt road, on the swiftest route that wouldn't take her through a farmer's crop. Breathing came easier now, and the warmth of the sun eased some of her tension as it warmed the brown wool that pressed into her bared back. Still, she couldn't help but feel a lingering shadow over her; there was something out of place, and she couldn't tell what.