3. Marcus

Marcus

  • ICC

    Character Name: Marcus
    Player: Mkable

    Joy coursed through Marcus' veins, after the mighty battle, he had mounted upon his white steed. In triumph he rode slowly through the streets. Resplendent in his White Armour. The Faithful gathered at the sides of the streets; cheering him on. This is the life!! Smiling in benediction he waved to his flock, giving a little wink to the young ladies here and there. He aimed his horse for the town gates, and set out. There were other towns that would need his heroism, his awe inspiring level of awesomeness!! And what in the Hells keeps brushing into my hair!!!

    “Uuuuuuuggggggghhhhhh” Marcus took stock of himself before opening his eyes. Hmmm. I feel cold, sore, is that water I hear?? ah, rain, lovely. Having assesed that he was in some state of wholeness, Marcus turned his attention to his mouth; eyes still closed. He could taste …Iron, Barley...mint berries?? Oh gods! Not Dwarven Ale and Elven wine again!

    A quite Audible groan escaped his lips, to be cut short when something nuzzled his head strongly. His heart leapt to his throat. Slowly he opened his eyes; to find himself staring into the big brown eye on a very Big…white...warhorse....uh oh Now, as far as Marcus could remember (and that is not far at all) he didn't own a warhorse. In fact he was PRETTY sure that he didn't even know how to ride. Opening his eyes again, he looked about. The horse was still there. He was outside of a rather dismal looking city. His barefoot, rather uncomfortably, was entangled in a stirrup. Wait? Where's me boot? Wheres me pants?? Uh oh, I'm naked. Again. Giving the Horse a hesitant pat on the head he untangled himself and stood. His whole body felt on fire. Ah I've been beaten…again. Must have been before I found the Horse. Interesting.

    Looking around he spied a road in the distance, and roads led to gates. Gates led to someone who would buy Warhorses. Especially sold cheap! A short while later, Marcus stood at a signboard. Dressed in some common clothing, armed dutifully with a Pack full of Booze…and a little bit of food. The Farrier had told him this was Peltarch...Marcus had never heard of this city before in his life! Mentally cursing Dwarvish Brewers, Elven winemakers, and booze in general (even as he took another pull from the bottle) He tried to sort out the jumble of posts on the signboard. He soon realized, they all pertained to one thing. The seemingly endless number of laws in this city. Turning South he looked down the road. Well, roads go places, like to other cities and towns. With that he headed south, thoughts turning to how easy it is for a beaten naked man to sell a Warhorse around these parts…


  • reviewed, xp pending