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Rondine

Frozen tales of lyr

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Hey Skylords and ladies,

since we all know that beta is delayed with good reason. I decieded why not shorten the time you have to wait a little bit with a Hobby of mine, writing a Story in the world of Skylords Reborn. Everyone here tries to do his part, rigth? I´m often the gamemaster inside my pen n paper round with friends so i love to weave stories of my own. Disclaimer: Im not native english so...if it isn´t 100% correct or even totaly bull, please don´t be to hard on me.

But as for it now..i hope to take you into the world of lyr.

Enjoy :) (also let me know what you think.. i may be a bit rusty)

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„Ts…Masterarcher“, a young man dressed in blue, mumbling to himself. „How could I be so foolish, to think it would be easy. “ „Go join the Wardens of Lyr, the payment is excellent and the beer always cold“, he postures with a deep voice, far from his own, “Of course the friggn beer is cold… My feet are cold, my bed is cold, even the damn fire seems cold out here in this frozen wasteland”.  His hands try to reach a small campfire, but the burden of his equipment makes this task impossible. With a loud sigh, followed by a blunt noise his bow and quiver drops to the ground. “Ahh…better”, relief fills his voice “Why is this stuff so heavy anyways”. “Oh stop whining Kyle!” a voice loudly emerge from inside the stone building. “Guarding the Northern wall is like the best job a recruit can get! It is just standing and watching the beautiful landscape of Lyr. No danger, no walking...” “Just freezing to death and dying of boredom” Kyle interrupts. Suddenly a bit smaller but portly man steps out of the stone tower connecting the 2 walls. “Would you rather fight those outlaws in the south? The sergeant told me they´ve seen one of them ride a bloodhorn, can you imagine? Also the cold isn´t THAT bad” the guy stops near the camp fire, warming his fingers. “Easy for you to say Rob, your armor is padded naturally” Kyle grins while poking Rob´s belly. “What can I say, I love good food and sadly it also seems to love me” Both burst out in laughter.

“Kyle Look!” Rob stops laughing pointing at the distance. A small gust of snow seems to moving out of the forest and towards the wall. “We have to sound the signal!” A Kyle node, grapping behind his back and reaches for his horn. A familiar sound echoes through the sky, the sound of a warning trumpet. He often practiced using the alarm horn, but this was the first time he blew it to be heard. The massive Gates of the Wall slowly open, while a small group of blue clothed men gather on the ground. “Lower your weapons!” A loud manly voice screamed, “Its Sir Geoffrey, Knight of Lyr! Let him pass!” A quick burst of relief was clearly visible on the young faces, but something was wrong. The closer the lyrish knight got, the more he looked like he was asleep, wavering on his horse. Kyle and Rob quickly got down to the others, forgetting their post. Too big was their curiosity, too little their patience’s. “S-Sire, are you alight?” One of the swordsmen asked the knight, trying to help him get of his horse. Silence, was his answer.  As soon as Kyle looked into his face, he knew: It wasn´t fatigue or even arrogance which caught the knight’s tongue, it was pain. “Make way you fool´s!” the manly voice barked outside the group and a strong muscular man made his way through the people. “Y-yes Sir, Master Archer Shiwan Sir!” the swordsman stepped aside. “He is hurt, badly,” Shiwan grunted while lifting the mess which looked like pieces of broken armor. “That’s not good, not good at all. You there!” his eyes now on the swordsman, “gather your unit and escort him to the camp” “Sir, yes, Sir!” the swordsman part way. “Sir?” Rob raised his voice “What exactly is not good at all?” the Masterarcher gave him a confused and mean look “b-beside the whole injurie stuff,  of course!” Rob quickly added. “Oh that’s simple Cressmond, it is that you TWO SCALLYWAGGER ARE NOT ON YOUR POST!” in this moment Kyle could swear that Shiwan´s eyes caught fire. “But for Sir Geoffrey,” his voice deepen “his wound was infected, already festering. Even his skin changed color like he had multiple bruises…mostly green and yellow. Whatever got him, got him good, but the healer inside the camp will surely know what to do. They will save him no worries, but…” and his voice again raising “NO ONE WILL SAVE YOU SLAGGERS!”... to be continued

 

 

 

Edited by Rondine
Frosthor and Slimakaraul like this

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