Imenry Barras (imenry) wrote in thedas, @ 2009-12-22 13:19:00 |
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Entry tags: | ! narrative, & before 9:45, @ imenry barras |
Character Narrative: Descent into the Lowlands
Who: Imenry Barras
Where: Gammordan Peaks, somewhere over the Uthemiel Plateau
When: 9:42 (late in the year)
Summary: After the attack on her town and deaths of her parents, Imenry leaves the mountains in a rush, and thinks back on how her life has changed in the blink of an eye. Much denial and lack of grieving ensues.
Rating: G
~*~
Climbing down a mountain is just as hard as climbing up it. The harsh winds that sweep down the peaks can easily knock one off balance, and it’s easy to lose footing between the snow and jutting rocks.
Imenry’s breath comes between her lips in harsh pants, her lungs burning as the air fogs in front of her. So blind has her escape from the village been, she does not know how long she has been travelling, or if she is even going the right direction.
She stops a moment to get her bearings, gazing past the jutting snowy peaks to the grasslands stretched out below. The cold wind stings her cheeks and she adjusts one of the heavy furs around her shoulders, pulling it up around her chin. Even under her fur-lined gloves her hands feel stiff and numb, and she flexes them, feeling snow trickle down the fingers to melt cold against her flesh.
Her stomach rumbles and she leans her hip against a flat out-cropping of rock to rummage through the pack of supplies hastily thrown together before she’d fled. One change of clothes, wrapped around a single piece of armor; her lightest dragon-skin cuirass. The blue scales shimmer faintly in the late afternoon sun. She pushes it aside and digs deeper, her gloved hand clumsy.
She comes up with strips of dried meat, flatbread made with ground root paste, and a skein of firewater. Without a fire that will have to do, as water freezes easily at these temperatures.
Imenry eats and drinks, keeping her father’s claymore over her shoulder as she does so. It is awkward with the oversized sword but its weight is comforting against her back.
She tucks the remainder of her food and drink away and lifts her head to look back up at the village. Nestled as it is between natural stone peaks, all she sees are the thick plumes of black smoke rising into the sky. She feels a twinge in her chest and guilt for abandoning whatever survivors might remain from the massacre. Grief threatens her, leaving her feeling like a hollow, aching shell. The sight of her parents’ bodies is still fresh in her mind and she stamps it away with determination.
She stands, gazing out over the appealing lowlands. Had she wanted this? At times she had dreamt of a life beyond these cold mountains. Her training as a warrior and love for family had always kept such thoughts at bay. People rarely left the village. She would have settled there eventually; married, had a family of her own. Though her relationships had never really progressed much beyond the physical.
Would she have locked herself in a loveless bond simple because it was expected? The thought was horrifying. The sudden sense of freedom that washed over her had guilt clawing at her gut. No, her parents would not have wanted anything but her happiness. She knew this.
Imenry spares one last glance back at the columns of smoke then begins her journey downwards anew. If she doesn’t think about it too hard she can chase their bodies from her memory. If she isn’t there, she doesn’t have to face the fact that they aren’t either.