kawa~ inspiration #7
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yrae
Title~ Musings
Author~ Annarti
Disclaimer~ It's mine, my own, my preciousssss
Notes~ kawa~ inspiration #7. The Own escorting iccle!Nol to the Tsaythi capital, Ryas, to meet with more royalty. First ever fic set in Tsayth, woo! And also, for reference, Laeron = current sword master, Nihqel = current dagger/blade archery master and Naraan = current archery master.
~ ~ ~
“This is the most ludicrous mission I’ve ever been sent on,” Laeron muttered.
“I wouldn’t go quite that far,” Naraan defended, “At least it’s not all in Kazin. We’ve had a chance to see Llayad this time, and I know of no other Raykinians who’ve visited Tsayth.”
The swordsman squinted as he cast his eyes over the glaring, flat white of the southern kingdom to his left, and the glaring, flat blue ocean to his right. “Fascinating.”
Naraan rolled his eyes.
“I know what it is,” Nihqel interrupted, “He wanted to go to the Llayan tournament this year.”
“Hardly,” the swordsman answered. “I have no interest in winning myself a new camel.”
“Ooh,” the blade archer exclaimed, resting his arms on the pommel of his saddle to look past Naraan at the swordsman. “Not getting too cocky there, are you Laeron?”
Naraan grinned. “Laeron? Never!”
“Of course, how silly of me.”
Laeron growled. “All I’m saying is that I could think of many more profitable things to be doing than escorting his Highness to have a meet and greet with foreign royalty.”
“Such as?”
The swordsman paused in thought. “Burying myself neck deep in sand, three paces from a fire-ant nest.”
The other two horse riders were silent a moment before Nihqel spoke up. “Was that humour from our dear Laeron?”
“I do believe it was,” Naraan replied. “It’s not going to start snowing here any time soon, is it?”
“I would have thought it more likely than humour from dear master swordsman.”
“Would you two shut up?”
Nihqel saluted sharply. “Yessir.”
Laeron rolled his eyes and urged his horse forward in the line of riders.
The blade archer shook his head. “If that man ends up taking charge of sword lessons, as it’s looking more and more likely he’ll do, I pity the poor saps who end up in his class.”
Naraan whacked his friend with his bow, then his shoulders slouched. “Highness is sure to end up under him.”
Nihqel drew in a sharp breath through his teeth. “Harsh,” he said simply.
The archer nodded. “I might have to try be a weapons master as well.”
“You only got into the Own two years ago. We’ll need you for longer than that.”
Naraan shrugged. “So I’ll do both.”
His fellow horse rider blinked. “Harsh,” he said again.
Author~ Annarti
Disclaimer~ It's mine, my own, my preciousssss
Notes~ kawa~ inspiration #7. The Own escorting iccle!Nol to the Tsaythi capital, Ryas, to meet with more royalty. First ever fic set in Tsayth, woo! And also, for reference, Laeron = current sword master, Nihqel = current dagger/blade archery master and Naraan = current archery master.
“This is the most ludicrous mission I’ve ever been sent on,” Laeron muttered.
“I wouldn’t go quite that far,” Naraan defended, “At least it’s not all in Kazin. We’ve had a chance to see Llayad this time, and I know of no other Raykinians who’ve visited Tsayth.”
The swordsman squinted as he cast his eyes over the glaring, flat white of the southern kingdom to his left, and the glaring, flat blue ocean to his right. “Fascinating.”
Naraan rolled his eyes.
“I know what it is,” Nihqel interrupted, “He wanted to go to the Llayan tournament this year.”
“Hardly,” the swordsman answered. “I have no interest in winning myself a new camel.”
“Ooh,” the blade archer exclaimed, resting his arms on the pommel of his saddle to look past Naraan at the swordsman. “Not getting too cocky there, are you Laeron?”
Naraan grinned. “Laeron? Never!”
“Of course, how silly of me.”
Laeron growled. “All I’m saying is that I could think of many more profitable things to be doing than escorting his Highness to have a meet and greet with foreign royalty.”
“Such as?”
The swordsman paused in thought. “Burying myself neck deep in sand, three paces from a fire-ant nest.”
The other two horse riders were silent a moment before Nihqel spoke up. “Was that humour from our dear Laeron?”
“I do believe it was,” Naraan replied. “It’s not going to start snowing here any time soon, is it?”
“I would have thought it more likely than humour from dear master swordsman.”
“Would you two shut up?”
Nihqel saluted sharply. “Yessir.”
Laeron rolled his eyes and urged his horse forward in the line of riders.
The blade archer shook his head. “If that man ends up taking charge of sword lessons, as it’s looking more and more likely he’ll do, I pity the poor saps who end up in his class.”
Naraan whacked his friend with his bow, then his shoulders slouched. “Highness is sure to end up under him.”
Nihqel drew in a sharp breath through his teeth. “Harsh,” he said simply.
The archer nodded. “I might have to try be a weapons master as well.”
“You only got into the Own two years ago. We’ll need you for longer than that.”
Naraan shrugged. “So I’ll do both.”
His fellow horse rider blinked. “Harsh,” he said again.
no subject
Date: 2008-01-27 03:41 pm (UTC)I know I talked about this one, but meh. It's really nice to see how you've progressed in the portrayal of the Own and the inner rivalries of them. Not that this isn't a fun piece because it is. Just that... Well, it does show its age some. (And inner rivalries are just fun. I challenge you to rewrite this to fit within the developments of the Own throughout the years. It will sparkle so incredibly much.)
no subject
Date: 2008-01-28 02:50 am (UTC)