Wilderness, Weathertop, & Wild Things RPG - The Barrow-Downs Discussion Forum

Alaksoron · 10-16-2004, 02:42 PM

Osric was grateful for the fire's warmth as he made his meal. When he was finished he drew his sword and produced a whetstone from a pocket of his cloak and set to sharpening. The blade would already shave the hair from his arm, but, as anyone who has ever owned a sword knows, it can never be sharp enough. Kim had told him on more than one occasion that he was obsessive, but he didn't care. A depressive gloom set upon Osric at the memory of his wife, now buried on a plot of their little farm. And he thought of his young son, strapping lad with a quick mind, whom was now staying with Osric's brother in Edoras.

Osric checked himself as he realized he was staring blankly ahead. Brightening, he asked "Anyone want an apple?" Aidwain nodded, but Veryadan said no. Shrugging, he reached into his bags and produced two appples, one for Aidwain and one for himself. He juggled them briefly before tossing one to Aidwain. He bit into his own apple, not caring that the juice ran down his chin. He loved apples!

He watched his companions heads swivel toward him as he jerked to his feet with a vehement curse that came out quite strangled. He lifted his left hand to stare in incredulity at the blood dripping from his left palm where the midge had bitten.

A moment's pause, Osric standing with his mouth agape, and the others broke into hysterical laughter. Veryadan was clutching his sides, and Aidwain was rolling on the ground. Blushing, Osric laughed with them.

10-16-2004, 02:42 PM	#27
Alaksoron Haunting Spirit Join Date: Sep 2003 Posts: 73	Osric was grateful for the fire's warmth as he made his meal. When he was finished he drew his sword and produced a whetstone from a pocket of his cloak and set to sharpening. The blade would already shave the hair from his arm, but, as anyone who has ever owned a sword knows, it can never be sharp enough. Kim had told him on more than one occasion that he was obsessive, but he didn't care. A depressive gloom set upon Osric at the memory of his wife, now buried on a plot of their little farm. And he thought of his young son, strapping lad with a quick mind, whom was now staying with Osric's brother in Edoras. Osric checked himself as he realized he was staring blankly ahead. Brightening, he asked "Anyone want an apple?" Aidwain nodded, but Veryadan said no. Shrugging, he reached into his bags and produced two appples, one for Aidwain and one for himself. He juggled them briefly before tossing one to Aidwain. He bit into his own apple, not caring that the juice ran down his chin. He loved apples! He watched his companions heads swivel toward him as he jerked to his feet with a vehement curse that came out quite strangled. He lifted his left hand to stare in incredulity at the blood dripping from his left palm where the midge had bitten. A moment's pause, Osric standing with his mouth agape, and the others broke into hysterical laughter. Veryadan was clutching his sides, and Aidwain was rolling on the ground. Blushing, Osric laughed with them.