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Lightbringer
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The usual stuff. Don't steal. Don't post if this isn't your roleplay. Plot Two countries want this nice territory. One on one side is a spy and goes to the other country. They have to give information back and get along with the enemy. They start to get along with the enemy a little too well and they have a hard time deciding who to be loyal to. Territory Ademre-Swamp Tarbean-Tropical Island Kraegios-Desert -Species: (credits go to LichenClan) Hellhounds
Hellhounds are large dogs born from hell as their name implies. They are incredibly intelligent and fantastic trackers, though when they are driven by bloodlust they are hard to control. They travel in pairs and serve only the master that owns them, though if that master is killed their allegiance is shifted to whoever dealt the killing blow. They stand at about five feet tall at the shoulders and resemble black rottweilers in physical characteristics, with glowing red eyes. They can travel through flames and shadows but only over short distances.
Crocotta
Crocotta are large hyena like creatures that have the ability to mimick voices and sounds they hear. While they are not as intelligent as their Hellhound cousins they are just as deadly and even better trackers. They travel in small packs of three to four, rarely going as high as six before they start fighting with themselves. Their six inch claws are sharp enough to cut through metal like a hot knife through butter and are coated in a mild poison that makes the pain from thier scratches feel ten times worse then they actually are. They aren't very fast but they make up for that in their brute strength and pack mentality.
Hale Witches
These witches can come from every type of region though they originate from the African desserts. They pull magic from the spirit realm and use it to manipulate the minds of people around them, even planting seeds of their magic into their victim, leaving them crippled and in most cases complete vegetables. It doesn't matter their skin type, you can always tell a hale witch by the white tattoos that line their bodies and circle their wrists and necks. Their level of magic is judged by these lines, the thinner they are the weaker they are, the more they have the more power they can pull at one time.
Mohiri
The Mohiri are a race of people who were designed by the archangels to fight middle and lesser demons who pose a threat to the world. Each Mohiri has a middle demon called a Mori in their minds. It feeds them supernatural strength and speed when they need it. It needs to be trained though. If a young Mohiri is not taught to control their Mori it can drive them mad. They are also immortal, because of the demon in their minds. They reach maturity between the ages of 18-25 and live in strongholds and military bases with their families while training or rehabilitating from missions.
For a swamp based area I also recomend Trolls, Bogey's, Were's of all kinds, Gulak's, and Mox demons.
Trolls
Trolls are vicious creatures who live in colonies under ground. They hoard precious metals and rarely communicate with other People, both human and non-human. They are fiercely protective of their young and are the best trackers you will find in the supernatural world.
Bogey's
Bogey's are docile and rather harmless people that live in swamps. They have pale gray skin and wide flat faces with large orange eyes. They don't talk very much and try to avoid confrontation as much as possible.
Gulak's
These reptilian people have a bad rap for being the underworlds equivilant for drug dealers, and while their are a lot of Gulak mob bosses out in the world, most of them tend to live quieter lives. Their large sizes tend to intimidate people, especially those leathery wings with a span of 20 feet, but a lot of the time they are just looking for some fun at a bar with friends.
Mox Demons
Mox's are a lesser species of demon that tends to hide in the sewers when they are shown to be unwanted. They are highly intelligent and won't go out of their way to look for a fight. But if one is brought to them then there is no stopping them. They have long curved claws and sharp teeth, their horns tipped with barbs that will gore an enemy and kill them in seconds. They originate in the amazon jungles and thrive in wet and humid enviornments. |
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Name: Eliana Mazekin Age: 23 years old Gender: Female Race: Mohiri Territory: Swamp Appearance: Tanned skin stretched over hardened muscle from years of training, Eliana is the picture perfect Mohiri female. Though, that is just about everyone in her race. Like all Mohiri she is rather tall, just a few inches above six feet, and those cords of muscle make her weigth just shy of 150 pounds. Unlike most women though, she keeps her vibrant red hair long, though its almost always up in a ponytail or a braid. Freckles cover her face and shoulders. She's got heterochromatic eyes, the main color being a pale green with darker gold and brown smudges around the pupils. Her usual attire consists of tight leather in shades of gray, dark green, and dark blue. She is almost always wearing a soft cloak of forest green color to blend in with her swampy territory, and high boots normally caked in mud. She never goes anywhere without a shortsword strapped to her back, the silver tipped whip at her side, and the pair of small silver throwing knives in her boots. Personality: Eliana is everything you'd expect a member of the warrior race to be. She's sharp-tongued, clever, and can be rather mean-spirited. But thats all saved for when she's on the job. In all reality she's like a teenage girl trapped in an adults body. She thrives under chaos and is always seeking the next rush of adrenaline. When she's not working she can be found in the middle of a crowd at parties, or the one buying drinks for every drunk in a tavern, laughing and acting like a wild child set loose on the world. But thats all besides the point. Whether or not she's hunting down her next target or just a pint of ale, she's as clever and silver-tongued as ever. She loves making fun with her friends and in the quiet hours of the night she is often found scaling the roofs of buildings and tree tops, looking for the perfect place to lay her canvas down and capture the worlds natural beauty with each stroke of a brush and line from a pen. Kin: Unknown, she's an orphan Other: She has scars littering her body, not just from hunts, but from her reckless adventures through the swamps. Each scar is a prized possession in her opinion, and her favorite one is the two long clawlines running from her left temple through her eyebrow and halfway down her cheek. |
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Lightbringer
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Name Erasmus Finkleton Age 21 years Gender Male Race Hale Witch Territory Desert-Kraegios Appearance Credits to Argos 
His face is shaped like an inverted triangle, thus his chin is the sharper end and his forehead is wider than average. He’s still young and has retained some youthful baby flab on his cheeks, so his cheekbones are not sharply prominent. He would be clean-shaven if he had anything to shave. He hasn’t been able to grow anything yet. He wants to. His dusty-pink lips are slightly bottom-heavy and are usually cracked into a grin or smile when he isn’t laughing. Whenever he does do either of those three things, he shows his pointed fangs which he keeps as clean as possible—not just because he shows them often, but also because he can’t stand the feeling of having dirty teeth. His nose is a rounded button and somewhat flat to his face. It peaks up at the end, which some might think is cute, but really it just reveals how badly his nose hairs need plucking. His nose has a weak bridge as well. His eyes are almond-shaped that tilt slightly downward at the tear ducts. They turn into crescents whenever he smiles. His irises are golden circuits—twin solar eclipses— in his eyes. They often sparkle and shimmer with some sort of mischievous idea that he would never act on. He’s too cautious for that. His eyes, though, always reflect his emotions. His mossy eyebrows above are curved and thinly shaped. His hair is a deep, dull green-grey color that is similar to an avocado or rosemary. It isn’t long, but it isn’t short either. It trails halfway down his back. He finds it difficult to updo it given that it is thick and its silky strands always slip through the ribbons and hair ties that he tries to contain it in. However, he has managed to keep it in braids and ponytails—not buns. He always keeps it in either a single braid down his back or a low-hanging ponytail. Buns are his bane; he just hasn’t figured it out yet. In front of his ears are often two strands that fall down to his jawbone. His skin is porous and on the oily side. If he doesn’t wash his face daily, he feels like he can feel a layer of oil settling in. He does have some light freckles spotting his dark, ash-brown face. He hopes that they appear boyishly charming and not geeky. He stands about five feet and eight inches tall, so about mid-height. He’s not necessarily upset by this, but he wouldn’t mind a few more inches. He does feel a bit intimidated by the taller folk about him, given that he feels like they always look down on him, which, in a sense, they do. He has an ectomorphic body type and isn’t muscular at all. Just enough muscle to get around easily. He has white tatoos that line his body and circles his wrists and neck. There are a medium amount of lines and the lines are thinner than most. Personality Cares about Appearance | Cautious | Smiley | Hot Tempered | Sensitive | No Self Control | Curious | Daydreamer | Bit Angsty | Romantic | Laugher | Protective | Loyal | Can Easily be Used | Bird Lover/Watcher | He cares about his appearance and knows that first impressions are everything. He probably spends too much time worrying about that. He is sensitive about his appearance because he cares so much, but will try to roll off any insulting comment that might be jabbed at him. He knows that his hair is his least attractive quality (he considers them like snakes and might call himself Medusa whenever he’s angry at himself), so he’s more sensitive about that than anything else. He’s particularly confident about his teeth and smile and considers anyone finding fault with them insane. He is a smiling person whose go-to in any situation is to laugh. If he’s scared, he’s going to laugh. If he’s upset, he’s going to laugh. If he’s angry, he’s, well, probably going to laugh. His anger is an unattractive quality of his and he has issues controlling it. In the past, he has gotten into serious trouble for fighting. He’s reformed some, but the boiling blood and sweaty, clenched fists are still very familiar to him. He tries to cover up these less-than-amiable traits of his personality with his laughter, smiles, and smirks. Actually, he tries to cover up most ugly things that appear in life with these things. Under this criteria lies the anger he has for himself. He holds standards high for himself and some might say impossibly high. Whenever he disappoints himself and whenever he fails, he beats himself up or ridicules himself. And because he doesn’t allow himself to grow from his mistakes, he ends up refusing to try new things or things that he knows he’ll probably flop at. An ill trait that he is unaware of or is just flat-out ignoring is the fact that he has little to no self-control. If it weren’t for the fact that he is naturally skinny, he would be fat from his poor diet. His sugar intake is unhealthy and he’ll probably later die of diabetes. He also has trouble breaking habits—always returning to old habits which he was pressed into breaking for a reason. An example would be his sugar issues, and another would be his talking to himself. People would think that he was talking to them and be confused or they’d think he was straight-out strange. However, he didn’t like this particular thing about him being asked to change, but his appearance was at risk, so he tries to only do it in private. It is difficult, though, and he slips. Another quirk he has developed has been physically flinching at embarrassing memories that have happened to him. Like the time he flew into a tree when he was trying to impress people. Or when he thought that person was waving at him when they weren’t. Oof. Despite his trying to keep good impressions on other people, he admires those who don’t. He thinks that it is grand that they can live their lives free from anxiety about other people’s thoughts. He sometimes wishes that he could be like them. He’s curious and sometimes it gets him into trouble, but he tries not to let it get to that point. He is also a daydreamer, and so mixing his natural curiosity and his daydreamer tendencies often leads to fantasy settings of ground-level explorations that he’ll never go on. That’s too foolish and dangerous, he’d never actually do that—he’s too cautious for that. The same applies to his romantic life, he is a bit of a romantic and will think up the flowers, sunsets, and soft kisses, but he’d never go up to the girl and ask for a date. The idea of his heart being ripped out and mauled by rejection doesn’t seem appealing to him. He is a protective friend and companion who builds his protective shield quickly around people who’ve gone through the same experiences as himself. For example, if he went to a summer camp for a week, his protective shield would automatically wrap around his cabin mates. This is something that he can’t control, it just happens. And when you threaten one of these people, you’re threatening him. So, you’re probably going to get into either a fight or a standoff with him. His characteristic cautiousness completely vanishes whenever a friend is hurt or in danger. He’s a loyal friend, who is a bit naive and can easily be used by someone clever. Now, he might have a bit of a history of fighting and he might be ready to fight on behalf of his friend’s honor, but that doesn’t mean he can fight. Yeah, he can punch, but it doesn’t carry much. He’s a lean little twig with just enough muscle to move without difficulty. He’s not sinewy or wiry like some, he’s a skeleton wrapped in skin with a soul stuffed in. Kin Meredith - Mother Erasmus I - Father Earl - Brother Edith - Sister/Oldest Sibling |
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Lightbringer
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Eramus was sitting around a campfire with some of his friends laughing. Today, there hadn’t been a battle, but he could see the enemy campfires from here. If the officers weren’t smarter, they were going to destroy the beautiful tropical island Tarbean before they managed to gain control of it and then the war would be pointless. Sometimes when his friends and him had time off they would go looking for fresh fruit. The island was so much nicer than a dry hot sandy desert. He appreciated sand that was pleasant and plenty of water, even if the island was surrounded by salt water. By this time the war had dragged on long enough that there was no more fresh fruit to be found. Both sides were beginning to lose too many soldiers, but negotiations weren’t ending the war. He expected that they would be called to go on a watch soon, but he wanted to enjoy the brief time that he had “off.” His friends were not on duty so they were taking a break by hanging out while they cleaned their gear and made sure they were ready for action at a moment’s notice. He looked up in surprise when a sergeant came for him. “Sir.” He immediately arose to his feet and saluted, staring into the distance. “At ease, Private. Some of the officers would like to speak with you. Please follow me.” “Sir. I don’t feel presentable enough. Is there time for me to clean up?” Erasmus asked. He had planned to be cleaning which needed no special care, but he didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of the officers. “No. They wish to see you right away.” Erasmus sunk into a sulky silence, but he followed the sergeant without any more protests as he didn’t want to get into trouble. He smiled a little as he thought about some of the jokes he had exchanged with buddies. He cringed as he looked at how dirty and wrinkled his uniform was. Someone was going to end up having his guts for garters. He was an embarrassment to his commanding officer. The sergeant made a hand motion for Erasmus to wait outside the door while he announced him. Erasmus started to play with his tangly green hair nervously waiting. He heard the sergeant loudly announce, “Private Finkleton reporting for duty.” The door opened wide enough for Erasmus to know that he was expected and permitted to enter. He walked in head up, back straight as proper and professionally as he could manage. He wanted to look around and assess the room, but he maintained proper discipline even though his curiosity was killing him. “At ease private,” a voice commanded after Erasmus had done the proper saluting protocol. He relaxed his stance and looked around recognizing all these important officers by name. One of them was in charge of reconnaissance and intelligence. “You are here because we have decided you fit the profile for a dangerous assignment. If you fail, you will die and we will not be able to help you. If you are caught, you may be tortured and you will certainly die. To hear more information, you must accept the mission.” Erasmus cocked his head and cautiously asked, “I have a choice…sir?” “It’s very dangerous. We need you to be willing and trustworthy. It will be hard enough without you being unwilling.” The voice responded, belonging to a Mohiri general. They waited looking at him. “Can I have time to consider it?” he asked, figuring that would be a wise thing to do. “No. We don’t want you discussing any of the details. You could jeopardize the mission. You are the first one we have asked. Of course we have back ups if you don’t agree to do it, but it would be much safer if you agreed. Less people who will talk about it.” “Oh…” Erasmus looked at them. He looked at the ceiling trying not to let panic overwhelm him as he tried to consider what he knew and what he was willing to do. Finally, he responded, “I am a soldier sir. I will serve however you think it best.” “Good man,” everyone in the room grinned and congratulated him. Clearly, this was the response they wished for. They nodded to the general in charge of intelligence and the sergeant beckoned for Erasmus to follow the general. The general took him to his office tent and explained the details of the mission. “You will enter the enemies camp and you will spy on them and report back. I have a man, the sergeant, who you will report to in two weeks if you successfully integrate. After that you will establish the next time and where you will meet. You will try to keep it irregular so someone else can’t figure it out. If you are separated without discussing a time to meet, you will meet on the 21st of the month that is closest to the time you were separated. The sergeant will help you pack and prepare. Questions?” Erasmus’ mouth slacked open not sure what he had gotten himself into. He was too shocked to process or find a question he needed to ask. “How long is this mission sir?” “You will try to worm yourself as far up the ranks as you can go. I need information that will end this war. You will stay until you are discovered or we have won the war.” Erasmus had a flash of fear and realized he might never see many of his army buddies again. “Do you have a cover established for me?” he asked. “We figured that we didn’t want to complicate things for your memory, so you’ll be what you were here. Your name and as much information as you can keep the same. Act as normal as possible. You aren’t very threatening looking. They won’t be expecting us to entrust such an important and dangerous mission to you.” “Yes sir,” he acknowledged the order. He followed the sergeant knowing better than to ask his name now that he knew that this would be his contact. “Obviously, we got you the enemy’s uniform. It should fit you fine. We also got you a few extra uniforms. We also got their gear and kit so you’ll blend in. Good luck.” Erasmus cocked his head sideways. “Why are they entrusting a private. If I can’t earn my way up the ranks here, why do you think I’ll be able to there.” “We’ll. You don’t seem like the ambitious type, but you’ll be making an effort in the enemy’s camp. Hopefully, that’ll make a distance,” the sergeant shrugged. “Off you go.” Erasmus was surprised they were not giving him more time to emotionally prepare. He would not be allowed to say goodbye to his friends. He began to cross the area between the Kraegiosan camp and the Ademren camp hoping he would remain undiscovered until he found a place to infiltrate. As he began the hard trek he imagined himself facing danger, passing on important information, and returning to glory and honor. He heard a rustling in the bush and froze in fright, knocking the silly daydreams out of his head. He continued on when he realized that it was a bird in the undergrowth. He berated himself realizing that freezing would get him in trouble. He had to be able to talk himself out of situations and freezing would not be helpful. He finally arrived at the camp and he found himself wandering around cluelessly. Why hadn’t he asked for a map? He should be familiar with the area. He turned in surprise as a troll began to approach him. He noted that she was a private as well, so he didn’t acknowledge her in any special way. “You look lost,” she commented. “Who are you?” “My name is Private Erasmus Finkleton. And you are?” “I am Eleanor Dulacy. You look new. Are you a new recruit?” she responded. “Um…yeah. I made it through the very basic training. They decided they didn’t have time for more and hopefully they would keep me out of the fighting until I got trained better. At least I’m another body taking watches and such.” He realized that he would have to shoot at his own people. He hadn’t asked about that. How the heck was he supposed to do this job? Maybe he could avoid it until he could ask the sergeant. “It’s almost suppertime,” Eleanor observed. “Come with me. I’ll show you the mess hall.” Erasmus was always open to eating. He followed the hulking female and soon smelled the food cooking. He sat down by her on a bench after he made it through the line. It was some kind of stew. He dug in. "I'm not sure where I'm assigned yet." He talked to her while he ate. Hopefully, they were as disorganized as his camp was and they didn't notice a complete stranger come in. Eleanor was finished way before Erasmus. She took much bigger bites. Erasmus tried to hurry as he figured she would be a good person to stick with. "I'm about to go on duty, so you won't be able to follow me. Hopefully, I'll see you in my unit." She smiled at him as she bade him goodbye. He looked around not sure what to do next as his plans had changed. "Hey," she called to a Mohiri across the table, taking pity on Erasmus. "Eliana. Show Erasmus around. I found him wandering aimlessly. You better keep him busy or one of the officers or sergeants is going to get annoyed," Eleanor warned. "See you later," she waved again and got up with her dish and left. Erasmus turned to look at the Mohiri girl. "Hi. My name is Erasmus Finkleton. How do you do?" |
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"Please tell me suppertime is soon." Darrick groaned, leaning against the trunk of the tree he sat in. "If my stomach growls any louder the enemy will hear it and then what kind of mess would we be in. 'Sorry Captain, I was so hungry that I led them right to us. If only we had meal times in between lunch and supper.'" Eliana chuckled lowly, watching her Gulak compadre from her vantage point three branches up. The tall willow tree they had taken as their lookout point provided the perfect amount of coverage for the two of them. "You're assuming that they can't smell you from their camp, let alone hear you." She teased, hooking her legs around the branch and swinging herself upside down to poke at him with her spear. "You reak worse than Crocotta piss." He swatted at the spear with a large hand, giving her a sulking glare through the leaves. "You wouldn't smell much better if you worked latrine duty before being posted." She couldn't help it, the sight of her friend pouting with his large fangs curling over his lower lip, his broad face and reptillian eyes scrunching up in disgust had her clutching her stomach with laughter. Wiping her eyes she dropped her body down to the branch he sat on, grunting softly with the impact. "Don't worry too much, you won't be on latrine duty for too much longer. Besides, its not like you weren't asking for it. That impression of the Captain, as brilliant as it was, is not going to get you into his good graces. You have to learn how to suck up to him like I did." He glared at her then and she rolled her eyes. "Okay okay, how about this. I help you get onto the Captains good side, and you give me a foot massage for a fortnight. Deal?" She held out her hand to him and she watched the gears grinding in the back of his head before he sighed and shook her hand. They continued chatting for a while, discussing ways that they could get Darrick out of latrine duty for good when the distant chime of the dinner bell came ringing towards them. The Gulak's ears perked and his eyes lit up hungrily as he stared towards the camp. Two shapes blurred towards them. "Looks like Nikolas and Tristan." He said, leaping down to the ground. She followed, landing gracefully next to him. "Nothing to report." She said, nodding to the two Mohiri men. "The nights been pretty quiet. My spear is up there, so is a blanket and a refilled bottle of water. The men nodded and scampered up the tree, leaving Eliana and Darrick to retreat to the mess hall themselves. The stew, while bland, was rather good if you asked the ravenous Gulak demon. He was the first in line, leaving his friend to wait for the hoard of people to quit surging around her before she could get into line as well. She spent her supper time dividing her attention between her meal and the sketchbook next to her. The half finished drawing of Darrick in the willow tree stood against the white paper in smooth strokes of charcoal. The sound of her name being called drew her attention from the picture and she turned to see Eleanor standing next to a male Hale Witch. She hadn't seen him around before but with the new recruits that had been coming in and out recently she wasn't surprised. "Yes ma'am." Eliana said, giving a mock salute to Eleanor, eyes glittering. The troll rolled her eyes, giving her a friendly slap on the back as she passed, leaving the two of them to get aquainted. "Well Fink, I am Eliana Mazekin, you can call me Maze, Eliana, or the hottest woman you have ever met. Either is fine by me." She finished her bowl and closed her sketchbook, standing to turn and face the man. "I'm assuming you've not been given orders yet, judging by how lost you look. You can bunk with me and my troop until then." She led him out of the hall, dodging soldiers as they marched past in different directions. "Captain's quarters are over there, steer clear if you don't want to be torn to shreds. Latrine's are on the other side of the camp by the twin oaks, its hard to miss it, just follow the smell. Each tent has an attached shower but we have no hot water so you'll have to get used to ice in your skin if you want to wash the stink from your body." She continued pointing out various tents and quarters as she led them further away from the mess hall. "And here is our tent." She said, waving her hand in a wide arc towards the tall and wide tent that sat at the edge of the encampent. Leading him in she pointed towards a pair of bunks. "That ones mine, on the bottom. You can take the top, I don't think Kvothe is going to be using it at any point in the near future. The trunk at the base of the bed is yours, the one next to it is mine. Anything that touches my stuff will be romoved slowly and painfully." She sat down on the bed with a sigh of relief, taking her boots off and rubbing at her feet. "I've got watch tomorrow afternoon, you can join me. I'll show you the look out points and everything then. You best start cleaning your boots and anything else that might grow mouldy. We have inspection at sunrise. If one of us misses anything, the whole tent gets latrine duty." |
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Lightbringer
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Erasmus was surprised that Eliana talked so casually to Eleanor the troll. If Eleanor was giving orders, he didn’t think a higher in command would be so lenient. He kept a straight face as he considered how Eliana was willing to be addressed. “I think the hottest woman you have ever met might be too long for convenience. What if we are under fire?” He wasn’t sure what he should call her and he knew that once he started on one term it would probably stick for a long time, unless he never saw her again and was reassigned somewhere else. He noticed a charcoal pencil in her hands, and that was probably what was on the tips of her fingers. He glimpsed some grayscale sketches."What's in your sketchbook? What do you draw?" He loved looking at other people's artwork, and he wouldn't mind taking a peek at hers. He edged toward her a single step but she closed it before he could see anything further. "Yeah, I haven't been given orders. I just headed this way. Where is the tent you are referring to?" He followed them. There were lots of rows of tents in different areas, and they all looked the same to him. "Thanks for the help. I will be sure to stay out of the captain's way. Yuck. Do the latrines smell that badly?" He was already used to cold showers, but why would it be icy? "Maybe we can go clean ourselves in a creek or something. Perhaps that won't be as cold. I think it would be more fun." They approached one column of tents. He was relieved when they arrived. He was ready to relax and settle in. He looked around and was surprised when she offered him the top bunk. He was a total stranger and he would have guessed that there already would have been an occupant. Not only that, but he could be very annoying, and he would have the most opportunity to be annoying on the top bunk. "Thanks. I appreciate you finding me a bunk." He reminded himself to take her seriously about not leaving his stuff in her area. "I don't have too many belongings. Hopefully, I won't spread out too much. I'll try to be mindful." He wasn't one who was overly obsessed with personal space, especially after being in the army. He bent over to peek inside his trunk to see what kind of storage space he had. It was decently size, especially if he had to transport it himself if the camp moved. Where was he going to put it? It was not made to be carried by hand, particularly on a long march. "If you don't mind me asking, what happened to your bunkmate? I'm surprised you don't have a bunkmate already. A friend." Even if something had happened to one bunkmate, the way she had been so friendly to him, he imagined she would have other friends who would wnat to be her bunkmate. While she relaxed on her bed, he began to clean, tidy, and organize. He stored away his belongings, and he made sure to shine everything. He got used to the tent, and he climbed up to the top bunk to see how easy it was to get up there. After getting bored of sitting up there, he lightly jumped to the ground. "Mind going for a walk with me? I want to try to get used to the layout of the camp, and I don't want to get lost. I don't even know the name of this tent to be able to ask for directions to the way back. Where is Eleanor? Do you work with her often? What do you normally do in your spare time?" He exited the tent and looked around trying to find landmarks so he would be able to find the tent again. "They all look the same to me. I don't know how you can keep it straight in your head. "Do you have a preferred toilet and shower?" Soldiers were marching back and forth making the average camp traffic. Sometimes when he didn't look closely at the uniforms it reminded him of his own army. "I don't know where to go in this camp. Perhaps you could introduce me to our regmiment. I want to start familiarizing myself with them." |
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Winter 
Day 
Sleet
