AYTHERIUS The Azure Dragoon

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic
A female adventurer discovers her past and confronts her future.

[!] Currently in progress. [!]

Submitted: June 12, 2017

A A A | A A A

Submitted: June 12, 2017






A silent eerie dawn had settled just above the horizon. The glistening of plate and chainmail brightened a small area of where the woman resided. She appeared to grasp her lance and tighten her grip before letting out a muffled sigh and mist of frost from the cold morning. She carefully checked her equipment, her decorated mithril sword, a dagger with her family's coat of arms etched into the pommel, a lance, her armor, and her horse. The horse was a black rouncey named Midnight. The dragoon resided at a five foot six inches, wearing a sky blue brigandine, plated leather greaves, a hounskull helmet tied to her waist when not in use, and with her hair tied in a neat ponytail. Midnight carried general supplies, food for two weeks, two tents, some tools like axes and shovels, meal preparation equipment, and the such that one would expect for an adventurer on their own. Am I missing something? She climbed onto her horse and rode into the distance.

As Midnight takes graceful strides across the countryside, the woman looked over and saw what looks to be a small camp set up over by the forest. She closed in for a closer look until someone begins shouting in the encampment. The dragoon took some glimpses of people sewing plates from destroyed breastplates to their padded jackets. It wasn't long until a few arrows hit her in non-vital locations, causing plenty of grazes on her body. She looked over at the storm of projectiles. Damn it! A bandit encampment, of all times, she thought. An axe flew towards her, only to hit the ground a few feet in front of her and Midnight. She readied her lance and pulled Midnight towards the assailant that threw it and charged at him. 

The brigand flew back from the impact of the lance and muttered a few words before shortly perishing. Sentries from the camp begun shouting across the field. Everyone was distracted, busy or in dismay from the alarums. The female dragoon took this opportunity to escape for the time being. After getting some distance away from the bandit hideout, she climbed off of her horse. Ugh, it's so unbearable. She settled Midnight on a dirt path, and looked at the wounds on her body. Some arrows were pulled out of her armor and tossed aside. Midnight had taken some arrows into its body, but they were merely flesh wounds. She climbed off and unpacked some high quality poultices from a pack and smudged it all over Midnight and her wounds. The wounds had become numb, with only a slight burning sensation, as if she was just stung by an ant. She wrapped simple rags around her wounds. She took an apple out of the pack and gave it to Midnight, and climbed on for the ride to the nearest town.



The tired woman made her way to the nearest populated location. A motte and bailey type fortification was being constructed here. The dragoon took careful viewing of the half constructed castle. It seemed that the village was very upbeat and productive. Few villagers walked by and stared at the armored woman. Watchmen walked over and investigated her bloodied clothes and her wounded horse. 



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