Genesis 126
Jul. 31st, 2006 10:12 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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yrae
Title~ Attack
Author~ Annarti
Disclaimer~ Still mine
Notes~ Genesis 126. I'm going to call this the introduction to the King's Own fic, regardless as to how crappy the ending is >> Fifteen best warriors in the kingdom, etc etc la de da, probably should've introduced Kazin first but didn't. Kazin is to Raykin what France is to England. That pretty much sums it up. Except England isn't desert, and France doesn't have any tropical regions. You get the idea tho.
~ ~ ~
Nimay whipped her sword around to dash the opposing blade aside, then chopped down on it hard, putting all her force—physical and magical—behind the swing. The Kazinian’s blade jarred in his grip, and he was forced to drop it.
She swiped again as the Kazinian yelped and swayed back from her blade, just barely escaping death as the tip grazed his throat. She nudged Ashburn over a bit so she could swing again, slicing the tip of her sword deeper along the same line as before.
She whipped her head around, searching for the next threat as the swordsman gasped and gurgled for a moment, then toppled off the back of his horse.
She spotted a Kazinian archer just as he let go of his bowstring, his arrow flying straight at her. Her eyes widened and she tried to duck aside, but the steel-tipped head scraped against her upper arm. Another arrow simultaneously knocked the Kazinian from his horse.
Her eyes flicked around the area, peering into the trees for any sign of anymore attacking eyes, but all appeared safe.
‘Clear,’ the General confirmed, but Nimay couldn’t help but check the trees herself, just to be sure, before she felt safe lowering her sword.
She rested the blade on her thighs and braced her hands on Ashburn’s saddle. Her limbs were suddenly shaking with the physical exertion, her head throbbing from the magical, and her lungs and throat aching from rapidly breathing the chilled mountain air in and out. She could feel her heart beating in her ears as well as she could hear it, and after what had just happened, the sound was a great comfort.
‘You right, ‘may?’
Nimay looked up as General Rau walked his horse over, then nodded with effort, looking down at the scrape on her arm.
Rau gave half a shrug. ‘That’ll be fine. They only start flinging poisoned arrows at you in the tropics.’ He paused to swallow and take a deep breath, then grinned broadly. ‘First close encounter, eh? Everything you expected and more?’
Nimay laughed and shook her head, raking the fingers of one hand through her hair and taking her water skin from its hook on the saddle, drinking thankfully from it.
‘Well, you’re not looking pale, so that’s probably a good sign,’ the General grinned again, unhooking his own water skin.
Nimay looked down at the back of her hand, then half-raised her eyebrows at him.
Rau shrugged. ‘Fair point.’
For three months now, she’d been riding a horse, swinging a sword that looked like an yrae, trained with the guys in the barracks and drank with them at the pub. She’d been on the mission for a month, and in the cold, dripping forests of southern Kazin for five days, but it was only now, after she’d brandished her sword in aggression, that she really felt that she was a rider for the King’s Own.
Author~ Annarti
Disclaimer~ Still mine
Notes~ Genesis 126. I'm going to call this the introduction to the King's Own fic, regardless as to how crappy the ending is >> Fifteen best warriors in the kingdom, etc etc la de da, probably should've introduced Kazin first but didn't. Kazin is to Raykin what France is to England. That pretty much sums it up. Except England isn't desert, and France doesn't have any tropical regions. You get the idea tho.
Nimay whipped her sword around to dash the opposing blade aside, then chopped down on it hard, putting all her force—physical and magical—behind the swing. The Kazinian’s blade jarred in his grip, and he was forced to drop it.
She swiped again as the Kazinian yelped and swayed back from her blade, just barely escaping death as the tip grazed his throat. She nudged Ashburn over a bit so she could swing again, slicing the tip of her sword deeper along the same line as before.
She whipped her head around, searching for the next threat as the swordsman gasped and gurgled for a moment, then toppled off the back of his horse.
She spotted a Kazinian archer just as he let go of his bowstring, his arrow flying straight at her. Her eyes widened and she tried to duck aside, but the steel-tipped head scraped against her upper arm. Another arrow simultaneously knocked the Kazinian from his horse.
Her eyes flicked around the area, peering into the trees for any sign of anymore attacking eyes, but all appeared safe.
‘Clear,’ the General confirmed, but Nimay couldn’t help but check the trees herself, just to be sure, before she felt safe lowering her sword.
She rested the blade on her thighs and braced her hands on Ashburn’s saddle. Her limbs were suddenly shaking with the physical exertion, her head throbbing from the magical, and her lungs and throat aching from rapidly breathing the chilled mountain air in and out. She could feel her heart beating in her ears as well as she could hear it, and after what had just happened, the sound was a great comfort.
‘You right, ‘may?’
Nimay looked up as General Rau walked his horse over, then nodded with effort, looking down at the scrape on her arm.
Rau gave half a shrug. ‘That’ll be fine. They only start flinging poisoned arrows at you in the tropics.’ He paused to swallow and take a deep breath, then grinned broadly. ‘First close encounter, eh? Everything you expected and more?’
Nimay laughed and shook her head, raking the fingers of one hand through her hair and taking her water skin from its hook on the saddle, drinking thankfully from it.
‘Well, you’re not looking pale, so that’s probably a good sign,’ the General grinned again, unhooking his own water skin.
Nimay looked down at the back of her hand, then half-raised her eyebrows at him.
Rau shrugged. ‘Fair point.’
For three months now, she’d been riding a horse, swinging a sword that looked like an yrae, trained with the guys in the barracks and drank with them at the pub. She’d been on the mission for a month, and in the cold, dripping forests of southern Kazin for five days, but it was only now, after she’d brandished her sword in aggression, that she really felt that she was a rider for the King’s Own.
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Date: 2006-07-31 04:02 pm (UTC)