Lord Mercat
LCC Lenfald Freebuild- Unforgiven
My first freebuild for LCC. I would have liked to have built this with a more bleak tone to match the story better, but alas I am lacking in brown and dark green foliage, so I had to make do.
Cold was the wind that howled through the forests of Lenfald. And a bitter cold it was, that blew down from the North and cut to the bone, an unfamiliar chill, alien, and strange, all but unknown to the kinder wilds of Southern Lenfald.
It was in this numbing draft that a man strode through the wood. Quickly, but with a silence possessed only by those native to the landscape, he continued on his path, seemingly impervious to the unnatural gale.
It was then that a sound was heard, barely audible against the screeching of the wind. A simple snap, as if a twig or banch had fallen victim to the unceasing gusts. What would have been dismissed by most was not lost on the man, as he turned to face the source of the aberrant noise.
A young boy stood there, not much older than 17 by the look of him, axe and sword ready in hand. He shook, though not from the cold, and the axe fell from his unsteady hand, as if he were unsure why it was ever there.
"You-you're him aren't you? The one hunting us."
"Aye." the man replied, unmoved by the fear in the boy's voice.
"I- I'm not like the others, I don't mean any harm! I just needed the coin- my sister, she doesn't have anyone else..."
"Doesn't matter boy. You've a price on your head now. To me, and all the rest of the world, you're a dead man." A grim finality echoed through the statement.
The wind continued to shriek through the forest as the man moved forwards towards the terrified lad, a solemn purpose to his step.
"Please, you can't do this, don't do this- I can't leave her behind, I CAN'T" The lad yelled in fear, tears streaming down his fact as he swung the sword wildly toward the approaching reaper.
It was over in seconds. A sidestep, and then a short painful snap was heard, and the cries ceased. The boy gazed down in horror at his now-broken arm, his fast-chilling hands still grasping the hilt of his father's sword as it now seemed to sprout from his stomach.
Strength failed him then, as he stumbled backwards, trying desperately to form some intelligible words, as if to leave the world with some memory that he had been there, that he had existed. It was nothing the man hadn't seen before, and he watched as the lad's features changed, from shock, to anger, to sadness, and finally fear, as his eyes glazed over, and a final, ragged breath left his body.
He left him there, at the foot of some long-forgotten statue, a stone guardian long since fallen into disrepair, the blood still pooling over the forest floor. Cold was the wind that blew that day; Colder still was the heart of the hunter.
LCC Lenfald Freebuild- Unforgiven
My first freebuild for LCC. I would have liked to have built this with a more bleak tone to match the story better, but alas I am lacking in brown and dark green foliage, so I had to make do.
Cold was the wind that howled through the forests of Lenfald. And a bitter cold it was, that blew down from the North and cut to the bone, an unfamiliar chill, alien, and strange, all but unknown to the kinder wilds of Southern Lenfald.
It was in this numbing draft that a man strode through the wood. Quickly, but with a silence possessed only by those native to the landscape, he continued on his path, seemingly impervious to the unnatural gale.
It was then that a sound was heard, barely audible against the screeching of the wind. A simple snap, as if a twig or banch had fallen victim to the unceasing gusts. What would have been dismissed by most was not lost on the man, as he turned to face the source of the aberrant noise.
A young boy stood there, not much older than 17 by the look of him, axe and sword ready in hand. He shook, though not from the cold, and the axe fell from his unsteady hand, as if he were unsure why it was ever there.
"You-you're him aren't you? The one hunting us."
"Aye." the man replied, unmoved by the fear in the boy's voice.
"I- I'm not like the others, I don't mean any harm! I just needed the coin- my sister, she doesn't have anyone else..."
"Doesn't matter boy. You've a price on your head now. To me, and all the rest of the world, you're a dead man." A grim finality echoed through the statement.
The wind continued to shriek through the forest as the man moved forwards towards the terrified lad, a solemn purpose to his step.
"Please, you can't do this, don't do this- I can't leave her behind, I CAN'T" The lad yelled in fear, tears streaming down his fact as he swung the sword wildly toward the approaching reaper.
It was over in seconds. A sidestep, and then a short painful snap was heard, and the cries ceased. The boy gazed down in horror at his now-broken arm, his fast-chilling hands still grasping the hilt of his father's sword as it now seemed to sprout from his stomach.
Strength failed him then, as he stumbled backwards, trying desperately to form some intelligible words, as if to leave the world with some memory that he had been there, that he had existed. It was nothing the man hadn't seen before, and he watched as the lad's features changed, from shock, to anger, to sadness, and finally fear, as his eyes glazed over, and a final, ragged breath left his body.
He left him there, at the foot of some long-forgotten statue, a stone guardian long since fallen into disrepair, the blood still pooling over the forest floor. Cold was the wind that blew that day; Colder still was the heart of the hunter.