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Snippet #2397604

located in Roman occupied Britannia, a part of Burning Embers, one of the many universes on RPG.

Roman occupied Britannia

None

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Sorcha Ceàrdach Character Portrait: Cadeyrn Caelliannach
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The entire village was abuzz when the warriors homecoming. Though Sorcha was not a fool enough to believe that there was no sadness and tension. The young boys would now take their places. She just wondered how many of the boys who had left were returning. She despised the Romans and wanted them out of her homeland, but there was nothing she could do.

Her father had allowed her the day off so she could get ready once the tribe had learned when the warriors would be returning. Despite the cold, she had bathed and washed her hair. She was nearly frozen by the time she was done scrubbing the soot and smoke from her body and hair, but she felt clean.

Sorcha stared at her only formal dress, a deep rich blue with embroidering of gold Celtic knot work. She still wouldn’t get to wear it. Instead she turned to her dancing dress that she and the other dancers had. It was shorter to allow movement, but still long sleeved. Hers was a dark emerald green with gold trimming. She pulled out the dress and changed grateful for the thick wool stocking that would keep the exposed legs warm. She curled her hair and pinned it up with the matching hair piece.

She was nervous. It had been such a long time that she had danced for anyone let alone the whole tribe. They had never had anything worth celebrating until now, but some part of her felt as if this were a funeral as well. The Roman soldiers would be present as well and she wasn’t sure if she could be cordial with them or not. Best not to speak at all.

“You look beautiful as usual. Just like your mother.”

The young woman turned and glanced at her father. She smiled at him knowing that he was just trying to make her feel better. It would be the first time since she’d started working as a blacksmith that she’d gone into the village without being covered in soot from the Forge.

“Thank you.” She whispered as she grabbed her new cloak she’d traded a few weapons she’d made for and wrapped it around her shoulders.

“Wear your torc.”

Sorcha’s eyes light up and she headed into the shop and opened the small box that held her newly finished torc. She didn’t know her father knew about her project and she hoped that he didn’t know how she had forged it. Pulling it from the box, she wrapped it around her neck where it fit perfectly.

It wasn’t gold, but the pieces of scrap metal gleamed like silver from her forging. The ends were done in a small, tight Celtic knot work that shown just how long it would have taken a normal black smith to do. It had only taken her a few days forging it through her magick. But she never once mentioned that to anyone.

“His gift? Do not think I am an old fool. You have chosen to remain unmarried not because of lack of choice, but for him.”

“Papa, stop. He is a hardened warrior. He will probably not even remember me. I was only six seasons when he left. Fifteen long hard seasons have passed since then. I am no child nor is he.”

The old man left the subject drop, but Sorcha still went and checked on the sword she had forged for the warrior. Like the torc she hadn’t forged the weapon from any fire, but with magick. She hoped he would like it, but for now she had to hurry to the hall.

Sorcha left her home and headed through the tribe as quickly as she could. Oh, how she wished she could be with the main group who got the first looks at the warriors, but like all the other entertainers, she had to prepare. They would show off for the warriors while they and the tribe feasted and stories were told. They would get to eat afterwards. She was more worried because they were doing a piece she had helped created.



Sorcha entered the back of the hall where the other dancers were waiting on her. They smiled when they saw her. Like her they were dressed in similar outfits, but their colors differed. She saw she was the only one in green. Her face heated and tinted her cheeks a bright red.

“You’re taking lead.”

“Say again?”

“Lead. We decided since it was your dance.”

Sorcha gulped as she shrugged her cloak off and put her soft shoes on. The hard ones were in place for the change over part way through the song.

“They’re here!” Another one of the girls yelled. Everyone turned and ran over to the crack where the door was located that they entered and exited to the main hall from. Sorcha peeked through with them as they all got their first look at the returning warriors.

“They are so handsome. Maybe we should have waited to marry like Sorcha.” One of the commented.

“Why? Tonight is the only night she’s is not covered in dirt and grim. No man wants a woman who does a man’s job.”

The red head just shook her head as she played with the curls that cascaded down to her lower back. It felt so weird not having her hair as she normally did. Do not listen to them, Sorcha. Ma would be proud that I did not settle for what men were left or that I was taken in by the fake leader, the traitor. I am probably one of the only women he has not had because of the dirt and grim. I have remained clean. She sighed and she returned to the crack with the other girls as they awaited their turn to take the stage.