Dawn breaks when a raft can be spotted floating down the Thunder River. It carries a lifeless body clad in dark colored armor plate over which a red tabard lies. His face is mostly covered with his blonde hair.
You're only given a little spark of madness. You mustn't lose it.
Post by Fiddlesticks on Sept 2, 2014 9:39:09 GMT -5
In the still of the evening, along the river, two fishermen spot the raft and shout to each other, trying to stop it. They bring the raft in as one runs off, looking for someone he saw pass earlier.
When they return, a man in black and white clothing accompanies the second fisherman followed by a dragoness in a white dress clutching a fishing rod. Several others form a crowd as they call out to people to help.
The man in black and white plunges into the water and helps the fisherman drag the raft ashore, the man shouts in alarm, recognizing the body, his grief is terrible. He and the dragon-blooded woman haul the body out, a local guard is called and the body is wrapped as the soaked man cares for it and prepares it for transport.
By morning the body is brought to Suzail by boat, the distressed couple accompany it to the shrine of Tempus.
A man clad in black and white clothing, a deep green cloak hanging from his back lingers across the river. His hands are busied by weavings of long grass blades, as he watches the raft float in toward the fishermen. Once the flurry of action breaks out, the man seems to vanish from the riverbanks.
Two hawks seem to keenly perch in the trees nearby, one having a small band of woven grass around its ankle. Throughout the events unfolding, they seem to follow the flurry of action, and the movements of the group. They move from tree to tree, always keeping the events in sight. As the boats are pulled in and boarded, they take flight far above, circling the ship as it makes its journey to Suzail, and then the group to the temples.
*Even though the raft was artlessly crafted, the souless body appears carefully placed upon it. The blond hair of the battle priest are tendered by human hand, unless the winds have changed their shape. The axe and shield are forming a ritual shape, like if the one who placed them wanted them to line perfectly to one an other and stay like that to accompany the traveler to the afterlife.
The muscled body of the battlepriest does not appear to carry any fresh scars from a recent battle. However it wouldn't need much skill to realise that the injury that killed him, was caused by an edgy blade that cruely marked him at the side of the heart. If someone had the courage to look closer, he would realise that his heart was removed*
Post by mysticalkas on Sept 9, 2014 8:42:18 GMT -5
*he stands silently in the shadows of the trees, watching with a solemn expression the goings on of those gathered. inclining his head to the raft he returns to the forest softly speaking to a black panther in elven.* Come Midnight, we must bring this news to the others.