The Story of Scars (Yorick / Duma C)
Dec 14, 2014 20:37:40 GMT -6
Post by Duma on Dec 14, 2014 20:37:40 GMT -6
"Time flies when you are having fun, I suppose." The swordsman gave a bit of a smirk. His mind went through the details of the trip. Everything seemed to be in reasonable order. He just hoped he would remember all of this in the morning.
"Alright then. I suppose we can chat more once the sun is up. Or in the afternoon... or evening depending on what time this body of mine decides to wake up." He gave a bit of a stretch, before carefully getting off his stool. He held the bar table for stability. The drink wasn't particularly strong, but it was enough to dull his senses to the point of being a bit wobbly. There was a strange sense of joy and eagerness coursing through him. Like the joy and excitement a child feels when they receive a toy. Part of him wished for time to move quicker. He wished to be on the journey to Sacae at this moment. Swapping a better story with Yorick as they caravan through the heart of the plains. Another part of him was nagging at the supplies he would need to bring for such a lengthy journey. The other part of him was telling him to stop standing and make motions.
"Well, I will bid you good night Yorick. If you need me for something you know where to find me." He pointed up, to the rooms, and hoped that he didn't sound too odd. He gave Yorick an affectionate strong pat on the shoulder, before he carefully made his way back to the stairs. Back in his room the sword-master took a careful look around. He checked his belongings to make sure everything was where it should be. Nothing of his was missing. Good. He slowly removed his boots and carefully went to lie down. The swordsman made himself as comfortable as he could, before drifting off to sleep.
"Alright then. I suppose we can chat more once the sun is up. Or in the afternoon... or evening depending on what time this body of mine decides to wake up." He gave a bit of a stretch, before carefully getting off his stool. He held the bar table for stability. The drink wasn't particularly strong, but it was enough to dull his senses to the point of being a bit wobbly. There was a strange sense of joy and eagerness coursing through him. Like the joy and excitement a child feels when they receive a toy. Part of him wished for time to move quicker. He wished to be on the journey to Sacae at this moment. Swapping a better story with Yorick as they caravan through the heart of the plains. Another part of him was nagging at the supplies he would need to bring for such a lengthy journey. The other part of him was telling him to stop standing and make motions.
"Well, I will bid you good night Yorick. If you need me for something you know where to find me." He pointed up, to the rooms, and hoped that he didn't sound too odd. He gave Yorick an affectionate strong pat on the shoulder, before he carefully made his way back to the stairs. Back in his room the sword-master took a careful look around. He checked his belongings to make sure everything was where it should be. Nothing of his was missing. Good. He slowly removed his boots and carefully went to lie down. The swordsman made himself as comfortable as he could, before drifting off to sleep.