#ferpxopen

[rutger-of-sacae]

Let love and light shine more || Open

“Guess this is my life now.”

Rutger jumped the fence and went straight for this pig’s weak point to kill it in one blow. He took a bite of raw meat and frowned. The wolves that were with him jumped in and took their fill. Oh yeah, Rutger was somehow inducted into a wolf pack. Every night he ran with them and slept with them when the sun came out. Why? Because he had nothing else to do. It was probably time to go though because company was coming.

“Oh boy, here we go.”

[huntersvarley]

Noble and the Sword||Open Starter

Bernadetta had to flee. Clutching her purse, she sprinted, eyes shut, breathing heavily. All she wanted was a leisure walk and an isolated place to embroider, but instead she found herself face-to-face with bandits. Normally unarmed, this was bad news for her. She was beginning to run out of breath, and the bandits were slowly catching up. Opening her eyes, she tried maneuvering around some trees in hopes to distract them.

She was successful, if only briefly. Hunched over, heart racing, she breathed in a sigh when Bernadetta caught sight of a shadow before her. She was surrounded. Crying out in panic, she pressed her back against the trunk.

“You really gave us a chase, little girly. Now yer coming with us!”

Was she to die? Be sold on the black market? What will they do with her? Whatever it was, she was to be forced into a completely foreign environment surrounded by strangers at every turn. The bandits had their weapons in their grasps, and one seemed ready to hit her in the side of the head. Bernadetta covered her face with her arms, cowering even more as her mind raced with horrible thoughts.

“This is it for Bernie!”

[apricitus-renairius]

Fallow Lands [Open]

It hadn’t been a long time since Artur had sown seeds and minded the soil that was to be fallowed, but he seemed a natural at it. Wiping the sweat on his brow and shedding his long scarf to the side, he continued to manually till the land earmarked for fallowing. His efforts were one of a few things he was doing to help rebuild after the war. 

On other days, he would be helping fire bricks or pick the best cobbles for construction, or mixing the adhesive for these bricks to allow them to stick, or cooking food for the displaced and the workers. He fancied himself to be a good cook, or at least a tolerable one by the fact that people were able to eat what he prepared, though these people being desperate and starving meant that it didn’t matter much to them if it tasted good.

Suddenly, he felt himself teetering over in the midday sun, the hard work taking its toll on his physical well-being. The shovel in his hands became blurry, then dropped completely from his hands as he fell onto his rear. He tugged at the water-skin on his hip and took a long drink, hoping the dizziness would subside so he could continue.

[grandmastermoragan]

Open

There was always something to be said about the smell of old books. The way they turned the pages and how they felt in ones hand. If morgana was being honest she would tell you that was her favorite smell. Ink on brittle paper making crisp noises in the late night.

She was so caught in reading a new tome she didn't even hear the other enter the Library. Piles of books scattered on the table and a very tired Morgana would be the others view.

"hmm. maybe if I did that we could counter this way."

[thecallinggale]

Dust rises // Open

Warning: Vague mentions of blood

Millennia. It had to have been millennia since he had been allowed to leave this Flame-damned room. An exaggeration, sure, though it sure felt like it. If he had to listen to that… Miranda or whatever her name was complain about her love life a single more time, he’d snap back into awareness so quickly time itself would bend at his command.

One slip-up had landed him in the monastery’s infirmary, if a failed battle against countless waves of dark mages counted as one and not multiple. He could curse up and down to every god and goddess of every land, and it wouldn’t change the fact fate had dropped him so close to this wretched place. This wretched place that so kindly took him in and was taking of him and it was sickening to think about for too long. Such kindness only given when they didn’t know what he was.

Wincing as he sat up, he regarded the bandages wrapped around his almost fully exposed abdomen, minus the tight cloth still wrapped around his chest. The bandages layered around his stomach were new, or at least, not entirely soaked in crimson. It stung still when he bent, but he couldn’t handle suffocating in that bed any longer. 

The pain crackled up his side and stole his breath in his first step. A cough forced itself from his mouth as he hunched over the other bed to catch the lost air. Once he wrangled it back within, he continued his harrowing journey across the room to the door. His mind was still fuzzy from disuse, though clarity was building up. In the hall, he could hear other people nearby in the one of three rooms around the infirmary. Who, whether familiar or not, he had no idea. It was close enough that it gave him no hope for simply waltzing out. He’d need to plan something more complicated.

‘Or,’ he mused inwardly when he noticed the large window, ‘I can do this my way.’ No lock, easy latch; No problem, easy escape. The stained glass opened with relative ease, and though his vision lurched at the height, he found the distance from the earth comforting. A wind spell could keep him from breaking his ankles in a jump, but to climb; There’d be a view there to collect his bearings of how far an exit was, then he could make his way out of the monastery, find a map to Sreng, return to solitude...

Now standing on the windowsill, with a shaky but sturdy grip on the window’s arch, he attempted to calculate the effort he’d need to reach the roof. He’d have to do so quickly before anyone could enter and catch him.

[prince-of-askr]

Hot Spring Troubles >Open

Alfonse had terrifying experiences of late. His body was tense and he just needed to clear his mind. He had made the decision that the best action would be to take an hour or two and go to relax in the Aether Resort and head to the hot spring. 

Once he had entered the facility, he shed his clothing and replaced everything with a towel around his waist. He knew that no one would be in the hot spring now, so it was a perfect time for him to soak. Slowly dipping his foot into the spring, it was an almost perfect temperature for him to completely relax. 

He eventually entered the spring fully and got into one of the nice corners of the spring and relaxed fully. His muscles relaxed and his body was warming up to a nice temperature. He could withstand the heat very well, but there was always something about being alone in the spring that was a lot more comforting. 

He dipped lower into the water so that his entire chest was under the water. Only his head was above the water then, closing his eyes, he relaxed further into the water then. The delicate smell of vanilla filled the air and he almost fell asleep a few times, but upon hearing footsteps against the floor. He immediately stiffened up. 

He had hoped that whoever was joining would leave so that he could keep enjoying himself with the alone time. 

[divineknightofdaein]

Mastery of the sword is learned over years of practice. Daily practice. This is what led Gawain to the training grounds day after day, almost unerringly. Today brought more of the same, and so Gawain practiced. Stroke after stroke, swing after swing, step after step, drill after drill, incorporating multitudes of styles into his daily routine. Today, however, another denizen of the grounds caught his eye. There was a uniqueness in the way they used their weapon of choice. To Gawain, there was but one response to this anomaly on the training grounds. "You there" he calls to the individual. "I haven't seen you here before. Nor have I seen your style of fighting. Care to test your ability?"

[bluewindsofrestoration]

Now what was it that she was forgetting?

Eirika’s day was shaping up to be a hectic one. She had awoken to a grumbling stomach long before the sun had risen. She had thought to herself that she might be able to break her fast with whatever the servants or pages ate, station be damned.

Unfortunately, she had walked into a novice maid, causing the girl to spill the fresh linens over the floor. Eirika assured the servant that there was no injury to herself and that there was absolutely no chance of her being dismissed for this, but the princess couldn’t help but feel that her presence had made the situation worse.

Next, she walked by a group of squires who were quarreling, their friends holding them back from striking each other. They had scattered when she approached, but Eirika made a note of it as she navigated her way to the lower floors of the castle.

She turned a corner to find a man carrying several scrolls. She recognized him as a count from the northern part of the country that had sought out the crown’s aid in facilitating international trade. By the time she finished listening to his newest proposal, the sun had begun to disperse the mists covering the castle.

Ah. She still needed to eat. She sighed when she heard a voice call for her.

“Good morning; may I help you?”