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Post by Sorcha on May 29, 2008 9:17:17 GMT -5
Sorcha cantered happilly along on Banan beside the Atlantic her blue eyes skimming the shoreline in serch of shells or other such things to bring home; her red hair and dark cloak rippleing behind her in the cold wind.
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Erik
New Member
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Post by Erik on May 29, 2008 9:50:01 GMT -5
Erik who was a captain among the Germanic people, was given a mission to travel west to discover new land. After many days of travel he ended in a storm were waves became difficult to handle, by it, the ship he was upon got torn into pieces. Quickly he grabbed a barrel, even the waves was high and dangerous. As many hours passed, the waves pushed him on shores close by. On the beach he laid unconscious, unknown of what had happened and where he was.
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Post by Sorcha on May 29, 2008 10:14:39 GMT -5
Sorcha pulled Banan to a halt and slid off to inspect the odd sight before her. A body lay prone on the hard sand; the waves gentle lapping at its feet. It was a warrior; Sorcha knew that; but she had no idea to whitch side he belonged. Anyway; he couldn't stay here. "Tar Banan; sléacht" Banan knelt down beside the man and she eventually managed to push the man over his back. She jumped up behind him and gallpoped back to her home.
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Post by Sorcha on Jun 5, 2008 8:53:48 GMT -5
The man lay on the bed of Sorcha's brother; Oisin. Both her father and brother were away in the war between her clan and that of Galway. She had stripped the man of his wet cloths apart from his under garments; and now examined them as they dried over the fire in the center of the house. They were not of Irish oragin that she could tell. At least they bore none of the insigner of any of the tribes she knew. Yet they were of fine make and had a similer style to that of the Gaelic clans. "Cárb as duit?" she asked softly turning back to him. Next to him she had laid his weopans and other possesions so that when he woke up he should not be worried. A pot rattled loudly over the fire and she went to attend to the broth she was makeing for him "Cad atá á lorg agat?" she mused aloud as she pushed back her burnished hair; her face uplit from the flames.
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