A tall redhead stood upon the shores of Tolgalen. One deep breath filled his chest. His dress shirt stretched to contain the musculature. The waves lapped at bare feet. Anyone looking upon the male from a distance might see the figure as at peace. As one approached, they'd make out the tense line of his shoulders. Someone catching his blue eyes would see the quiet torment that raged within. Balled fists rested at the male's side. A dichotomous figure of peace and pain standing upon the shores of Tolgalen. To some it might appear as if he were waiting for the waves to swallow him. To others it could appear that he sought strength and peace from the ocean. Not even the male himself could have told someone which view was correct.
Kyran stared out over the waves. He'd come to Tolgalen to find peace. Something that continuously seemed lost to him. Home, the Guild ship, even in the arms of his wife, the places that used to bring him peace were only a brief respite anymore. His kids, all five, reminded him every day that another child waited out there for her father to bring her home. The redhead scrubbed a hand over his face. Would Annabelle be the same when he brought her back? Could he even bring her back?
A fist slammed into his shoulder. The redhead jumped, a spear appearing in his hand. An old man with a straw hat chewed his plant cigar at Kyran. The man's hands were hooked into his suspenders. Kyran lowered his weapon slowly. "You look like a strong youngster! Come! Test your might against mine!" The farmer swept his hand toward two boulders sitting nearby. Kyran could see one of them stood weak and brittle. The other towered over the beach like a stone giant. The mage turned back toward the farmer. "Those boulders are uneven, it will-"
"First one to destroy their boulder is the mightiest! Ready, set, go!" The farmer said, suddenly. Sand sprayed as the old man shot forward. Kyran stared after him in awe. What point did this contest hold? He crossed his arms over his chest. A bubbling sensation stirred within his veins. The old competitive spirit Kyran tended to have bother him at the worst moments. This test appeared like a battle in his mind. A test of might to determine the greater fighter between the farmer and Kyran. Each boulder represented the gap in power yet allowed them to fight on equal terms. The bubbling of battle lust intensified within the redheaded male. He couldn't ignore the call.
WC: 435
Kyran stared out over the waves. He'd come to Tolgalen to find peace. Something that continuously seemed lost to him. Home, the Guild ship, even in the arms of his wife, the places that used to bring him peace were only a brief respite anymore. His kids, all five, reminded him every day that another child waited out there for her father to bring her home. The redhead scrubbed a hand over his face. Would Annabelle be the same when he brought her back? Could he even bring her back?
A fist slammed into his shoulder. The redhead jumped, a spear appearing in his hand. An old man with a straw hat chewed his plant cigar at Kyran. The man's hands were hooked into his suspenders. Kyran lowered his weapon slowly. "You look like a strong youngster! Come! Test your might against mine!" The farmer swept his hand toward two boulders sitting nearby. Kyran could see one of them stood weak and brittle. The other towered over the beach like a stone giant. The mage turned back toward the farmer. "Those boulders are uneven, it will-"
"First one to destroy their boulder is the mightiest! Ready, set, go!" The farmer said, suddenly. Sand sprayed as the old man shot forward. Kyran stared after him in awe. What point did this contest hold? He crossed his arms over his chest. A bubbling sensation stirred within his veins. The old competitive spirit Kyran tended to have bother him at the worst moments. This test appeared like a battle in his mind. A test of might to determine the greater fighter between the farmer and Kyran. Each boulder represented the gap in power yet allowed them to fight on equal terms. The bubbling of battle lust intensified within the redheaded male. He couldn't ignore the call.
WC: 435
