CHARACTERS; Bess and Garric Guidon SETTING; Their small home, during the afternoon. RATING; PG. SUMMARY; Their first encounter after he was wounded only a few days before. STATUS; threading, incomplete!
It was a warm day, the wind was cool as it swept itself through their small home. He was at the table, their small table made only for the two of them. His sword out, his cleaning oil and his whetstone out next to him. It was one of the rare days he was back from his work. Though she never questioned it, she was just there for him. It was one hell of a few months he spent away from her.
It was a different trip, the man who hired him was one who wanted his objects protected but he didn’t wish to be in Greenville anymore. Not with the matter of the plague that has been growing a slow but rapid pace. Garric agreed but only if he was paid in gold and not objects. It was a simple agreement. One that they both nodded with approval. It was that night, before he left that he watched her busy herself with arranging herbs and cleaning their small home. He couldn’t bring himself to tell her how long he would be gone but it was enough for him to tell her that he would be gone and will be back soon. It was quite the trip. He rode next to the man’s caravan and eyed the roads everyday until their last day they were almost to the small village. A group of men came across the road. They swarmed the caravan. Garric was pulled from his horse as he fought off the highway men. He was on his back and the Caravan driver was dead before he could get himself back up. Garric was on his feet, he swarmed three of them, taking them down in a rage of anger. Just as he turned to take down the last two he felt a stab of pain shoot up from above his waist. He squinted, the pain grabbed him from the side and brought him to his knees but that didn’t stop him. He pushed himself back up and turned on them, blocked the first and then the second. His sword grinds against the others sword as he brought his knee up and knocked the man back to the ground, killing him. The other saw it, dropped his sword taking off back into the woods. Garric grounded his teeth. The caravan was still there, he picked up the reins, pulling himself up towards the carriage seat.
By the time he came back to the town he bound up his wounds and kept them from becoming infected the best he could. But he failed she was there for him and took care of them. He was just glad she was okay, and the next time he planned on leaving he wouldn’t go so long without knowing she was alright
But now he sat there, his mind wandering as he cleaned his sword. His knives were laid out next to him while he moved to clean them, letting his sword dry with the oils laid down upon them.