(Bam, outfit. Also Iâm going to preface this by admitting that I havenât sat down and actually started writing in years so forgive me if Iâm dog water.)
The mage knew it was part of her job description to see these dimensions out, but to be thrust in at the dead of night mustâve meant that this was very important. After getting on her feet from an awkward landing, no thanks to the wormhole that sent her here in the first place - she dusted herself off and scanned her surroundings.
âWhere in the blazes am I?â she quietly wondered to herself, hesitant on taking an aimless direction to walk toward.
@unoraptormonâ
âAye, though I normally save it for allies.â She frowned, tilting her head until there was an audible crack.
She took a deep breath and sighed. âI have a feeling youâll someone Iâll might be able to trust.â She took a few steps forward and held out a hand. âNameâs Harley.â
âWhen the stormâs finished, I can take you to the Farmerâs District. It has the most friendly humans in the area.â She offered, returning the grip. âYouâd be able to get a good nightâs rest there and probably some good food.â
âWhen the stormâs finished, I can take you to the Farmerâs District. It has the most friendly humans in the area.â She offered, returning the grip. âYouâd be able to get a good nightâs rest there and probably some good food.â
âBeing able to sleep without worrying about whether my head gets lopped off or not sounds lovely enough.â She returned her hand, placing it in her robe pocket. âThe humans⊠Iâll be the judge of,â she frowned, though not directed at her, âexperience has taught me that hospitality is apparently spotty across different dimensions.â
The scarred woman chuckled at the thought of the man. âTo summarize in a word, a viking.â
She glanced outside as a bolt of lightning flashed across the sky.
âOnly in the summer. The rain is a boon for the farmers, and I get to enjoy the whining of the townsfolk.â
She then let a small smirk play across her face. âI also get to have a shower instead of a bath in the lake.â
She nodded. Just so long as the viking in question wasnât one of those fanatical types, she figured sheâd be just fine.
She frowned at first then allowed her expression to relax. To each their own, she supposed.
âMother Nature tends to provide a good shower every now and again,â she shrugged.
âItâs also a nice break from the sun.â The scarred woman bobbed her head. âRandom question. Do you like potato soup?â