Post by Quintus on Feb 7, 2018 3:53:17 GMT
It was never unusual for the Stark boy to be out in the City streets at night. It was some of the few times he had a chance to get some fresh air, after dealing with duties pertaining to the Stark household as well as continuing his training and studies to become a hound. One of his ambitions was to fly through the ranks once he was recruited, and part of that entailed being good at not only his job, but understanding the laws of the City inside and out, as well as being a very skilled combatant. For now though, he was content to spend some time out under the moon while it was at its peak, humming a song he heard from a local bard as he walked past the line of estates in the high class section of the city.
Though there were more hounds and less crime, there was still always a lurking danger no matter where one went. Assassins, thieves, or even that notorious serial killer that was roaming about could always be potentially waiting in the shadows to strike at a noble that was too cock for their own good. Thus, Quintus was equipped with his simple wooden recurve bow, stringed and worn like a sash on his back with the string over his chest. Clipped to the side of his warm brown trousers on that chilly night was a quiver filled with arrows. These things were not completely necessary, as he was able to fashion nearly any weapon with his magic as well as arrows, but the light was extremely bright even with a half-moon as bright as that night, and it would partially blind him in the process of summoning it as well as attract attention. So a physical bow it was.
He was bundled up fairly heavily, as he did not enjoy cold weather. Frost formed on the ends of his eyelashes, and he could feel the hairs in his nose freeze as well even with his large, dark blue wool coat, warm beaver fur hat and mittens. Every breath he took was visible on exhale, but regardless it was relaxing and refreshing to be out at night.
There was, just as well, a lingering fear within the noble. It had been years since the last incident when Prizrak, the shadow that possessed him, had emerged. The last time he did, he slaughtered ten people for no reason other than to sate his boredom. Since then, Quintus had not even heard a whisper in his mind from the sentient being, and thus every passing day his fear grew that the shadow would eventually take over again to commit atrocious acts. At that time, Quintus had been lucky enough to not be caught as Prizrak had killed every witness at the time. He would not be so lucky again.
Two hounds, both familiar faces, were walking in step side-by-side with each other, wearing gambesons and leather pauldrons and shin guards. In the noble’s district, they were less prone to being ambushed or killed, so they tended to shy away from wearing heavy chainmail. In Quinn’s eyes, it was foolish, but he was not a hound yet and could not judge them.
Besides, the two men that were patrolling were kind enough people. He smile and nodded at them as he passed by, and they both smiled and waved a greeting as well before they continued on with their conversation. They were just so…relaxed. Too relaxed in his eyes. What if this would be the one night that there was a murderer wandering around, waiting for their next victim?
Suddenly, Quintus felt himself become very vulnerable as the sounds of the two hounds talking began to fade away, leaving him with nothing but silence yet again. Though he was skilled in combat, there was no comparison between his swordsmanship and his archery. The gulp he instinctively made sounded too loud to his own ears, and he was sure that anyone in the vicinity would have heard it, though it was just his paranoid mind making it seem thus so.
Though there were more hounds and less crime, there was still always a lurking danger no matter where one went. Assassins, thieves, or even that notorious serial killer that was roaming about could always be potentially waiting in the shadows to strike at a noble that was too cock for their own good. Thus, Quintus was equipped with his simple wooden recurve bow, stringed and worn like a sash on his back with the string over his chest. Clipped to the side of his warm brown trousers on that chilly night was a quiver filled with arrows. These things were not completely necessary, as he was able to fashion nearly any weapon with his magic as well as arrows, but the light was extremely bright even with a half-moon as bright as that night, and it would partially blind him in the process of summoning it as well as attract attention. So a physical bow it was.
He was bundled up fairly heavily, as he did not enjoy cold weather. Frost formed on the ends of his eyelashes, and he could feel the hairs in his nose freeze as well even with his large, dark blue wool coat, warm beaver fur hat and mittens. Every breath he took was visible on exhale, but regardless it was relaxing and refreshing to be out at night.
There was, just as well, a lingering fear within the noble. It had been years since the last incident when Prizrak, the shadow that possessed him, had emerged. The last time he did, he slaughtered ten people for no reason other than to sate his boredom. Since then, Quintus had not even heard a whisper in his mind from the sentient being, and thus every passing day his fear grew that the shadow would eventually take over again to commit atrocious acts. At that time, Quintus had been lucky enough to not be caught as Prizrak had killed every witness at the time. He would not be so lucky again.
Two hounds, both familiar faces, were walking in step side-by-side with each other, wearing gambesons and leather pauldrons and shin guards. In the noble’s district, they were less prone to being ambushed or killed, so they tended to shy away from wearing heavy chainmail. In Quinn’s eyes, it was foolish, but he was not a hound yet and could not judge them.
Besides, the two men that were patrolling were kind enough people. He smile and nodded at them as he passed by, and they both smiled and waved a greeting as well before they continued on with their conversation. They were just so…relaxed. Too relaxed in his eyes. What if this would be the one night that there was a murderer wandering around, waiting for their next victim?
Suddenly, Quintus felt himself become very vulnerable as the sounds of the two hounds talking began to fade away, leaving him with nothing but silence yet again. Though he was skilled in combat, there was no comparison between his swordsmanship and his archery. The gulp he instinctively made sounded too loud to his own ears, and he was sure that anyone in the vicinity would have heard it, though it was just his paranoid mind making it seem thus so.
