Daily trails and tasks awaits as kachina, the barbarian bondsmaid, recaps her story and life within the Village of Rondvik. Facing Torvalsland ways and the most feared creature of all Gor, the northern free men known as Jarls.
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Thursday, March 15, 2012
(3) First Arrival
I had no memories of how I arrived, only that I went to bed at my own home. I do recall, slowly waking up to the sound of the surf, crashing against the rocks. I could feel cool, soft sand under me asI gazed up to the night sky.
It was when I notice the three glorious moons above me. That was my first clue that I was no longer upon my world. The second clue, as I start to stir and sit up more, was a man approaching me.
Clad in dark leather, he reminded me of the mideval vikings of ancient Earth. And when he spoke to me, I couldn't understand a word he said. I was quite frightened, kneeling there in the sand, gazing at this fierce warrior. He had drawn out his sword and pointed it at my neck, speaking only two words.
La kajira.
I took it, I was suppose to repeat them. As I did, he resheathed his sword and drew out some rope. He motioned that I should cross my wrists at my back. Doing so, he was behind me, crouching close.
I cried out, struggling when I felt him tying my hands back. As I fought him, I suddenly felt the sharp tip of a blade to my throat. I went utterly still as he finished his task of binding my wrists. Then he spoke those words to me again, pressing the blade down by my belly.
La kajira, la kajira.
I remember crying out, over and over again, til he removed the blade. I felt a loop of another rope going about my throat. Then a sharp tug upon it. Rising to my feet, I follow this man. Following him into my new life.
Gathering Larma (15 March)
[06:01] ℂℓy (clysa.dragoone): hums softly as she slips from the gates long before dawn, cly moves down along the path with basket in hand as she heads on down to the fire circle, she wanted to surprise all by fixing fresh baked larmas, like she used to make upon her home world,for they resemble the apples theres, the wind from the Thassa blew in between the lands, sending the scent of morning and salt as she approaches the large larma tree, smiling seeing how fresh and ripe they are as she moves to the closest branch, humming to herself as she picks them, inspecting each larma makingsure none were bruised as she places them within her basket, gazing up one in a while to see a fishing boat with Jarls and bonds passingby she waves to them before continuing her task, when her basket was full, smiling with pride she picks it up and carries her treasure back up to the gates, heading towards the bakery, se believes she would wash and set several out for any desires to have them while the rest she prepares to make te tarts and baked larma treats
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