Profile

Fractured Voyage Logs

July 2020

S M T W T F S
    1 23 4
567 891011
1213 14 151617 18
192021 22232425
262728293031 

Custom Text

This place stinks of death. Sabriel stands up from the ice, confused but not panicked. She had not crossed the First Gate, which meant that she had likely been pulled back into Life. But where? And why? At first, all she can see is ice, great pillars of it that seem like a king's guard. As she turns, she finally spies the ship- the source of the death, though she senses great life too. But no danger.

She doesn't question how she has her bells back- all in proper shape and well cleaned except for Astarael. She checks the bandolier across her chest, touching each bell gently. Abhorsen's sword at her hip and the bells at her chest, she feels a least somewhat protected. Her surcoat, decorated with a key pattern, is still around her shoulders, though she has lost the majority of her armor. It didn't seem as if she came straight from the battle, but she didn't feel any different. She could even feel the Charter here, around her, like a comforting blanket, so she must still be north of the wall.

Forming the charter marks for warmth, strength, and light, she whistles them out and finds herself with a comforting light at her shoulder that gives her enough warmth to cut through the ice. "Is anyone there?" she calls out softly, not wanting to draw attention to anything dead that might be lurking.

(no subject)

Date: 2020-06-22 02:43 pm (UTC)
kingsroads: (small little smiles)
From: [personal profile] kingsroads
Strange takes Sabriel's hand and gives it a shake and a little squeeze. "I shall do so, Miss Sabriel. And again, if you have any questions about this ship or the nature of things here, feel free to ask me."

Page Summary

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags

Style Credit