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M I D A S No longer did my soul feel ready to snap like the tip of a bullwhip. I'd taken to crafting and prayer as my salve, with a sprinkle of companionship on the side. From the loins of our home I'd crafted an iron spear, fashioned carefully and over the course of many months. It took weeks to smelt metals which would be both strong and light. It took even longer to create a design. There was still much left to do. Work kept the mind busy. Yar, speaking of busy... Elsa had come to me with a desire to learn more about war, a bloody art. Far removed from the beautiful decor the Mason was capable of producing. I wondered why she sought it? Did the lass simply want to further her skillset? Protect a family yet new to this world? Whatever the reason I didn't press my question, only agreed to the request. The sun came up, warm and comforting. I looked over the floating valley, flush with life -- from a distance this place seemed beautiful, a paradise. It was a lull, a trap -- yar and I'd fallen for it. With each new death and no small amount of scrutiny we are further cautioned to be wary even here. Twice bled. I traveled by foot to the little sparring arena. A circler section of earth, raked by many scuffling feet to the point that not even a dandelion would dare show its face. Soiled with blood, sweat and tears. Fina lands with her sister on a sunbaked rock. Present only to observe. Elsa would be along soon enough. Attack: (0/3) Setting: Early morning. Training ground on sky island. OOC: |
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