Another Basic training necromancers seem to be my thing lately. Main goal for this piece was to give a description that invoked the forest and scene without tripping over itself. Failed on the delivery of a breath taking view but it works well as a travel progression piece.
Goal: Clear and flowing description that breathes
Prompt:
Necromancer Pue
Forest by the river
Water rocks
Leather boots
Two skeleton
Name: Pue, Crip and Jaw
Crip and Jaw idle as Pue gather’s up her supplies. Collecting the leather blanket and loose tombs from the previous night. She loops the travel bag across Crip’s shoulder finessing the strap around his bony arms. Nestling it between his shoulder blade and spine. She latches it down, inspecting the leather belt that holds his sheath. Examining the thin metal bolts that held it to his hip bone.
“All set,” she murmurs going over Jaw with the same checkup, good we’re ready, she bends each of her their skulls down kissing their brows.
“For all your hard work,” she says hoisting her own satchel, “We’re off,” she says the clicking of the two’s bare toes following her through the game trail.
Issuing an order Pue has Jaw take the lead with his great shield and long-sword, Crip walks behind them buckler fixed to his arm and hatchet hanging at his side.
The day begins.
Cutting through the morning mist they skirt closer to the river, keeping it as a natural shield to their right flank. Keeping a healthy birth from the ambush laden bushes of the tree line. Wind whispers down the river’s babbling rocks spreading the cool mountain air down to Pue. It was like the river’s water clear and crisp hinting of colder weather further up the craggy peaks of the mountain. Pue bristles under her leather cloak, the links of her chain-mail frosty against her under garment the icy water lapping onto her leather boots.
They continue on, stopping briefly to consult maps and rest the necromancers chilled feet.
Birds chirp and twitter along the edges of the river, the splash of frogs and beavers mingling into their songs, “keep right,” Pue murmurs tracing her leather glove across the goat skin map, black blobs of ink spotting out the hills that surround her, “Goblin’s cave toward the leaning rocks,” she murmurs tracing her finger to the black X that marks her target. At least another day she thinks rolling the map back into her pouch.
“Resume,” she says the jagged amethysts at the tip of her staff glowing in reply to her command.
Their footsteps journey across the water ripples spreading along the banks, toads and frogs fleeing from their encroaching march. Sending word of their arrival farther into the forest.
After lunch, more walking, and some resting dusk settles in. Its rays coming down like a descent of fallen angels among the breaking clouds. To beautiful to resemble crimson. Pue thinks watching as the rays of light cut past the tree leaves and etch the forest canopy onto the river.
They creep into the edge of the woods. Taking the satchel from Crip’s back and pulling the fur and leather blankets from within, Pue clears a patch of river mud, laying the blanket across the miry bed. Pulling a tome and wrapped bread from the large satchel she sits down on the blanket, Casting Candle Light over her head.
“Protect,” Crip shields her front, facing the woods. Jaw stands as her rearguard, facing the river.
Crumbs fall between her robes as she reads through the rotting purple tome. Owl’s screech the crimson shade of dusk turns to a black night. Darkness covers all but the white-green light that hovers above her. Its presences becoming more blatant and foul to the forest dwellers.
“Delay spell, Dark Missiles, Toxic Spit, Soul Harvest,” Three amethyst circles appear in front of her melting into the air, interwoven glyphs hanging like rings of mist.
“Good night,” Pue says resting on her arm as her tireless guards keep watch.
Mad Man's House 