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« on: January 28, 2013, 05:58:05 am »
Although he was not a priest, or even a member of the sacred order of Akavi, there was another soul asking for his graces on the same morn that the Priestess Cloudguard and her troupe has departed. Sulza Brock was leaving for the fabled Kingdom of gold himself that morning, and as he slipped on the familiar tarnished breastplate over his aketon, he was indeed praying. Though not a religiously devout beastman by any means - he enjoyed his pleasures and drink a tad too much for that sort of thing - he needed all of the luck he could get on his journey. Flat yellow optics scanning his 'room'...couldn't call it much of a room, more of a cupboard, really, he took what would be the last glimpse of his home that he would get for a while. Having already said his farewells to his family, he fastens his iron buckler across his shoulder blades, and attaches his trusty ax to the rough leather belt around his waist. Shouldering his rucksack, the traveler wet on his way, hardly taking more than a glimpse at his surroundings at first. The slums of Cenu were all too familiar to the lad, and he wasn't exactly nostalgic about them, either. For too long, the young hyenaman had been surrounded by the dirty cobblestones, the sinking, sad looking buildings, and the hungry faces of the human children and the beastly children alike. The heavyset brute just tries to get out of the kingdom as quickly as possible, even dashing at some points. This place was not suitable at all for his family, and he was going to make sure it didn't become so.
--~
Outside of the city, and at the border of the "Fabled Land", Sulza takes a deep breath, almost relishing the cleaner air. As he was still close to Cenu, the air was not necessarily cleaner, but it felt to be so to the young mercenary. Full of hope and promises. Sitting for his umpteenth stop that day, the pilgrim takes out a battered skin canteen and raises it to his snout. Much to his despair, it was close to becoming dry, and with water probably being a long way off. Rationalizing there was not much left he could do about it, the soldier-for-hire just staggers to his paws with a plaintive grunt, his body starting to rebel against him in it's want to rest. Ignoring this fact, he merely plods on, the gleaming Kingdom already in his sites, and perhaps a half a day's journey away. If he could make it before nightfall, he would be fine. Perhaps he could even find some water along the way? Spirits lifting once more at the prospect of a better life here, he continues, chewing on a small bite of maslin bread to stave off hunger for a while longer. Not having much, Sulza Brock had to watch his consumption of his rations.
[I feel like a fail. Everyone else's post is so huge, then mine's just like "meep". I apologize for my lack of detail, it is almost 1 AM, and I must be going to bed for school tomorrow morning.]
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