Private Roleplay Non-believer - Printable Version

He travels and night, following the stars, his pace a slow limp. He is in no particular rush, and the ache in his limb has sent him to search for some herbs that might've soothed it. He was not forsaking the desert, because he would never be able to do so, for all the blood he'd lost to the sand, but for now, he would seek reprieve from the searing heat and endless wastes. Verdant pastures were ahead, where he could rest and find water. The smells of others here did little to deter him, he would use his words, or he would fight.

He did not want to fight. He could still taste the iron of the last bandit he'd slain between the grooves of his teeth. The world was far too evil a place, it needed pruning.

He wished to believe the stars guided him here for a reason, but any belief from him was half-hearted, and veiled with an anticipation for only the worst of outcomes.

A woman's voice, honeyed and smooth, spoken in a tongue he recognized, but weakly understood. He hadn't heard it spoken since the oasis was abandoned, and Samirseti's return to Ta Senet. He stepped out of the brush and to the edge of the stream, where she washed her aching soles, and dipped his head in silent greeting, his words of common tongue.Hello He murmured, a gentle night breeze came to ruffle the furs of his neck, before he spoke again in a tempered, cool tone. I hope I'm not intruding. I was looking for water and shade. The desert heat has become... too extreme to travel through.

He watches her where she sits, the gentle trickling of streamwater filling the night air. There is a semblance of something familiar about her, but he is lost on where the feeling comes from.

He was hesitant at first, tentative, but he sensed no deceit or sideways intent, and he moved as she offered the space for him, weary haunches meeting the earth next to her— though careful not to infringe on her space, even as he shifts his leg to rest comfortably beneath him. He lowers himself to drink a few moments, their skewed reflections rippling across the pool, fading into indecipherable shadows along the waters surface. She is called Merneith, and he leaves her in a silence a few too many seconds long before speaking for himself— inwardly cursing his solitary existence for this moment of ineptitude. Ah- It's good to meet you Merneith, and thank you.. for being hospitable. I am Nokht.

She is made of ivory and sandstone, with eyes of vibrant scarlet that look upon him with an openness that sets his mind at ease, but the regality of such features is entirely lost on him. I was living with a settlement at an oasis far... south.. or maybe east of here, but it did not last.

He gives a shrug, and lets the cool breeze wash over his form. I find wandering to be less complicated. He remarks, though it wore on his body and his mind.