Dreaming of The Plains of Rage

TardiS

Newbie
OOG: This is another pervasive dream. Things are felt so that they are perceived as written even though much of it is not spoken.

It had been a long journey south.

Not long ago she remembered kicking a chest of gold back at some foolish lordling who tried to buy peace with coin. They had not even spoke of crossing blades and these people couldn't give up their possessions fast enough. Weakness. Laughable.

Now she stood. Guards at her side, looking at today's battlefield. Seventy two spell-swords lay dead amongst the bodies of four hundred eighty six orcs. A fine trade in most ages, but most ages weren't like this one.

They were bleeding troops daily. It would be a long while before it became too much of a hindrance, most leaders wouldn't be too concerned with the current happenings. But she was no ordinary leader.

She saw the journey ahead, today, a year from now and ten beyond that. If they were to do what they set out to, they would need somewhere to regroup while they were still 'strong.' It would do no good to try and find a suitable place once they had been bled to weakness.

She walked back to her horse and pulled a map from the saddlebags. Once unrolled across the side of the mount she placed her finger on their current location. "Plains of Rage." She then slid her finger over to the land she had heard so much about from her time here, "Corrheim."
 
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