- Messages
- 369
It always itched after a long ride. Gerrard scratched at the scars across his chest through his travelling coat. The scars should have faded to a pale watermark by now, but they ran far deeper. It was not his skin that had been pierced that day, but his very soul. They would never fade. They would never stop hurting.
There wasn't a sign at the edge of the village. None of these pig fuckers could read, he assumed. With the sun fading, Gerrard hoped this was the right place. Word of the event had not reached him quickly and he had ridden hard to get here.
Off the beaten path someone was walking across a field. Gerrard turned his horse towards then and set off at a quick trot. He slowed up as he reached the middle aged peasant. The man looked deeply concerned at having an immaculately dressed man atop a well groomed steed bearing down on him.
"Is this Briel?" Gerrard called down. There was nothing polite about his tone.
"Yar, that's right."
Gerrard barely made eye contact, turning towards the disparate collection of buildings. "Where is your nicest inn?" he asked.
The old man let out a harsh, throaty chuckle. "Crossroads in the middle is the only Inn."
Gerrard didn't even offer thanks as he dug his heels into his horse's flanks and set off the for the centre of the village.
Audreyn
There wasn't a sign at the edge of the village. None of these pig fuckers could read, he assumed. With the sun fading, Gerrard hoped this was the right place. Word of the event had not reached him quickly and he had ridden hard to get here.
Off the beaten path someone was walking across a field. Gerrard turned his horse towards then and set off at a quick trot. He slowed up as he reached the middle aged peasant. The man looked deeply concerned at having an immaculately dressed man atop a well groomed steed bearing down on him.
"Is this Briel?" Gerrard called down. There was nothing polite about his tone.
"Yar, that's right."
Gerrard barely made eye contact, turning towards the disparate collection of buildings. "Where is your nicest inn?" he asked.
The old man let out a harsh, throaty chuckle. "Crossroads in the middle is the only Inn."
Gerrard didn't even offer thanks as he dug his heels into his horse's flanks and set off the for the centre of the village.
Audreyn