The Legend of Soria: The Sacred Swords Part I » Places

         

Rhoda A. Dunoir

The enigmatic cloaked figure simply nodded in response to the boy's sheepish reply, gently releasing his hand, turning, and hopping up onto her own mount once more. Her movements were fluid, swift, and seemingly effortless, almost as though she was some kind of a ghost simply floating back up into the saddle instead of actually having to climb it. Her scabbard clacked softly against the saddlebag, the only sound she made save for the quiet hiss of the sand as her feet left it, causing countless tiny grains to cascade down into her wake, obliterating her footprints the second she left them.

For a moment, she was completely silent, and it seemed as though perhaps she wouldn't answer the young noble's question, as the party's guide quickly interjected with a gentle scolding. In response to the Interfector's admonition, Rhoda merely nodded, and remained quiet for a moment. However, just when it seemed like she wouldn't speak any further, her quiet voice once more emanated from her white hood, nearly drowned out by the wind that spent the desert continuously.

"Wargleam," Rhoda answered in a single word, her voice quiet, stoic, and perhaps even somewhat unnerving. "Dunoir House. It's... just outside the city." It was strange, listening to her speak. Her words came slowly, and were very subdued and soft. Neither her speech nor her demeanor betrayed any of the thoughts going through her mind at the moment, both being concealed behind a calm, tranquil mask. Hearing her, one couldn't be sure if she was quiet because of some sort of shyness that crippled her attempts to speak, or if it was because she for some reason had literal difficulty talking. She was a mystery, and she was one that became only more enigmatic the more you knew about it.

Drawing forth her own canteen and taking a small sip, she quickly capped the waterskin once more and returned it to the saddlebag, giving a slight nod of her her in the direction of the rest of the party to signal that they should probably start moving. Gently prodding her mare, she once more set off at a slow trot, quickly coming alongside the others and simply joining them in mutual silence. What had been asked of her had been answered, and what she could do to help had been done. Now, all there was to do was to continue on their journey. It was as simple as that.

         

Leo Collander

Sitting on a well groomed horse in the annoying blaze of the sun, that Leo hated with a passion, that burned almost as bright as the sun. Everytime he looked at the sun it reminded him of that fire which scarred part of his body and took away his family. Turning his eyes down from the sky Leo looks at the reason he was brought on this journey a sword that rested on his hip. This sword and the swords his companions possesed were supposed to help somehow. Leo didn't really understand all he knew was that he needed to help.

Leo only knew one of his companions before they set out, Caine Crosswell. A noble who hates other nobles, who helped Leo steal from the nobles to make money to give to the poor, which unfortunatly got Leo into a couple tricky situations. One of these situations was where he found Dust, his sword. All in all Caine was a good friend and someone reliable to have around, however sometimes Leo wished Caine would fall off his high horse.

Suddenly a loud sound snaps Leo to attention noticing a cloud of dust nearby his horse, all Leo can do is chuckle as Caine is helped up from the ground by one of the girls. Then with a sigh Leo kicks his horse into a gallop for a short while to see if he can catch Caine's horse. Stopping before rounding a large hill Leo turns around abandoning the futile chase of the horse and returning to the group.