Biting Cold [Event]
Feb 12, 2020 12:30:31 GMT -7
Post by Master Game on Feb 12, 2020 12:30:31 GMT -7
Far away, in the snow white outskirts of the Frost Nation, a lone wooden caravan moved steadily through the frigid and unwelcoming landscape, pulled along by the physical fortitude of two pure-bred stallions. The environment was almost monochrome; a mesh of seldom anything other than white, a few brown and grey colours that filtered through. As the wind howled non-stop, static shapes grew smaller and faded away from view. It could be hard to swallow for some, that they were actually nearing their destination instead of getting further away from it. Alas, this is the reality of the small villages that dotted Shimo no Kuni's outskirts. The weather conditions were twice as dangerous and daunting as the already chilly capital city. The inhabitants of such villages could only make do with what they had to survive and occasionally trade with other villages and towns in the summer seasons(The only time the weather let up to allow consistent travel). This particular village, named long ago by the brave pioneers that first settled to call the land home (long before the nation itself formed), was called and is still being to this day; Voeld. Of course, all of the mercenaries in the caravan would already be briefed on this. A legitimate map of Shimo no Kuni would reveal that Voeld had no other outskirt villages as close neighbours, and a large mountain range hugged its borders. Particularly isolated, Voeld probably suffered the worst out of all the outskirt villages, possibly leading to the current situation being faced. The information the mercenaries already knew let them know whoever or whatever they would encounter would likely kill them on sight.
The caravan driver sat in silence with a smoking pipe between his lips that he would periodically remove to blow a puff. He was sitting at the front of the caravan with the passenger compartment at his back. The mercenaries contracted to undertake this assignment would find themselves seated on a single wooden bench at the back of the caravan's passenger compartment facing the driver but not able to see him. Right next to each person was a contract document rolled up into a scroll that they were free to read at any time. The hardwood casement windows at the parallel sides of the caravan were sealed shut to keep out the unruly cold, and a single candle was affixed at the top of each of the four walls of the compartment, providing the only illumination. For the meantime there was a foreboding awkward silence, if there was ample time for the different mercenaries of different backgrounds to get to know each other, it would be now.
OOC
After the initial entry posts, there will be no posting order for a period of time until the caravan reaches its destination. This is to allow your characters to freely converse and get to know each other, as it will be somewhat crucial filler for the sequence of events yet to come.