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Role Play Stories / Re: The Story of Christoph Watson and the Capture of Akiruh
« on: February 28, 2013, 07:41:20 pm »
What would the world be without a story ?
Especially nowerdays when all a girl had was her hammer, a semi decent pair of cloths and the grit not to sit down and let them get her...
Stumbling through the northern territories , her heart beating at the smallest sound , her nostrils flareing at every invasive scent that wafted around her she knew she had to work fast , she'd seen enough to know this wasn't a place she'd like to be at when the sun set . The ridge , that's where she had to get to , it was a place built for safety she knew she'd be able to fit in there afterall she'd survived long enough to know down south ...well that's where the devil played .
There'd been some broadcasted message from the smokers , touting for fresh blood dareing souls into Campos more likelye for sheer entertainment than anything substantial, perhaps they were in need of more legs , perhaps some members had finally been laid to a fitful rest .
Wearily after raiding a small caravan park her feet held out till the top if the ridge , she'd seen some far off flare but knew well enough not to approach it . This was new to her this area, she needed to know where she fit in. Feeling a surge of relief when she was able to emerge from the forest around this compound without being shot at she scampered up a platform to the nearest lights she could find .
It was here where Linla heard of Christoph Watson , the man in the general store spoke of the torment he'd seen in this mans eyes. She questioned him about the safety of this place , how he knew this man her voice husky from the lack of use though her eyes sparkled as the idea grew that this place could very well become a place she could defend and perhaps call home . Surely his story would be one she could cling to ...after all what would the world be without a story .... with a real hero.
Especially nowerdays when all a girl had was her hammer, a semi decent pair of cloths and the grit not to sit down and let them get her...
Stumbling through the northern territories , her heart beating at the smallest sound , her nostrils flareing at every invasive scent that wafted around her she knew she had to work fast , she'd seen enough to know this wasn't a place she'd like to be at when the sun set . The ridge , that's where she had to get to , it was a place built for safety she knew she'd be able to fit in there afterall she'd survived long enough to know down south ...well that's where the devil played .
There'd been some broadcasted message from the smokers , touting for fresh blood dareing souls into Campos more likelye for sheer entertainment than anything substantial, perhaps they were in need of more legs , perhaps some members had finally been laid to a fitful rest .
Wearily after raiding a small caravan park her feet held out till the top if the ridge , she'd seen some far off flare but knew well enough not to approach it . This was new to her this area, she needed to know where she fit in. Feeling a surge of relief when she was able to emerge from the forest around this compound without being shot at she scampered up a platform to the nearest lights she could find .
It was here where Linla heard of Christoph Watson , the man in the general store spoke of the torment he'd seen in this mans eyes. She questioned him about the safety of this place , how he knew this man her voice husky from the lack of use though her eyes sparkled as the idea grew that this place could very well become a place she could defend and perhaps call home . Surely his story would be one she could cling to ...after all what would the world be without a story .... with a real hero.