Post by yagei on Apr 21, 2006 17:40:07 GMT -5
Note: This is just a sort of....background, if you will. The first prolouge will come next~ I really would appreciate thoughts...more detail?Less? More to it? Deeper origins? etc? Thank ye!
Background:
Midorin Forest was located in between two cities of importance, an obvious landmark to any traveler. But whilst navigating a sparse population of trees and underbrush, the setting would change, one scene flickeringly changing to the next. Emerald green trees, moss-coated grass, and the loud silence of a forest would give way to small log cabins, beaten dirt paths, and friendly calls. The village of Taeken was clear in the middle of the Midorin Forest, a secluded and shy place to be.
When you walked into the village, almost by accident was how it usually happened, the same type of scene would always greet you. Beaten down dirt roads, the dust flaring into the air with the occasional passing rider on horseback, randomly placed log cabins, varying in shape and size, and constantly busy villagers, striding quickly from building to building. There were only three wells in the village, spaced neatly apart for convenience, the stone structures all crumbling around the edges. Set closest to one of them was the schoolhouse, a larger cabin, crowded with wooden benches and a unique blackboard at the front. There was also a guard house for reassurance, but that was about all it was worth. More than half of the Taeken Guard were lazy men looking for an easy paying job.
Every morning seemed the exact same there, with minor alterations for individuals. A farmer might wake up before dawn to eat and get dressed, then work in the fields until sunset. A blacksmith would arise at the same time, instead going straight to labor with unruly metals all day. Children were simply pushed out the door in the direction of school, then ignored until they came rushing in for dinner that evening. The village-folk even dressed the same. A pair of dyed-deerskin pants, a tunic of no-color gray that hung loosely about their shoulders, and flexible brown leather boots was the usual attire. The occasional traveler would be welcomed into a volunteer's home to stay, and would eat and sleep there until ready to move on. Then there was Inarin.
The scrawny, lean outsider. He wore the village's clothing, pants of faded blue, a shirt of dull gray. Over the tunic he had found a mantle of deep brown cloth, which covered part of his shirt and gave him uniqueness. Not that he needed it. A pair of large, puppy-ish silver wolf ears and a shaggy tail gave him all of the difference he needed. A wild, curling mop of crimson hair hid his brilliant jade eyes, and a pair of donated leather gloves covered his nimble hands.
Everyone called him the village's 'stray'. He went from house to house, being taken in by each villager in turn. If they had their way, he'd be a permanent guest of the village chief, but that never happened. Inarin always...always...seemed to be smiling. It was a polite smirk that reflected only kindness, but nobody saw it that way. He went to school like the others, ate and drank and slept like everyone, but lived in a separate world. A world of demons, of doubt and dislike. That never made his grin falter, though
Background:
Midorin Forest was located in between two cities of importance, an obvious landmark to any traveler. But whilst navigating a sparse population of trees and underbrush, the setting would change, one scene flickeringly changing to the next. Emerald green trees, moss-coated grass, and the loud silence of a forest would give way to small log cabins, beaten dirt paths, and friendly calls. The village of Taeken was clear in the middle of the Midorin Forest, a secluded and shy place to be.
When you walked into the village, almost by accident was how it usually happened, the same type of scene would always greet you. Beaten down dirt roads, the dust flaring into the air with the occasional passing rider on horseback, randomly placed log cabins, varying in shape and size, and constantly busy villagers, striding quickly from building to building. There were only three wells in the village, spaced neatly apart for convenience, the stone structures all crumbling around the edges. Set closest to one of them was the schoolhouse, a larger cabin, crowded with wooden benches and a unique blackboard at the front. There was also a guard house for reassurance, but that was about all it was worth. More than half of the Taeken Guard were lazy men looking for an easy paying job.
Every morning seemed the exact same there, with minor alterations for individuals. A farmer might wake up before dawn to eat and get dressed, then work in the fields until sunset. A blacksmith would arise at the same time, instead going straight to labor with unruly metals all day. Children were simply pushed out the door in the direction of school, then ignored until they came rushing in for dinner that evening. The village-folk even dressed the same. A pair of dyed-deerskin pants, a tunic of no-color gray that hung loosely about their shoulders, and flexible brown leather boots was the usual attire. The occasional traveler would be welcomed into a volunteer's home to stay, and would eat and sleep there until ready to move on. Then there was Inarin.
The scrawny, lean outsider. He wore the village's clothing, pants of faded blue, a shirt of dull gray. Over the tunic he had found a mantle of deep brown cloth, which covered part of his shirt and gave him uniqueness. Not that he needed it. A pair of large, puppy-ish silver wolf ears and a shaggy tail gave him all of the difference he needed. A wild, curling mop of crimson hair hid his brilliant jade eyes, and a pair of donated leather gloves covered his nimble hands.
Everyone called him the village's 'stray'. He went from house to house, being taken in by each villager in turn. If they had their way, he'd be a permanent guest of the village chief, but that never happened. Inarin always...always...seemed to be smiling. It was a polite smirk that reflected only kindness, but nobody saw it that way. He went to school like the others, ate and drank and slept like everyone, but lived in a separate world. A world of demons, of doubt and dislike. That never made his grin falter, though