09-14-2014, 08:19 PM
"I don't know what the place is called..." Another less than favourable response, but Ornstein realised he needn't fret much over that. This was just one man, after all, who hadn't been around here for very long and seemed consequently lacking in solid information. There would be others, the knight mused. There must be.
"...but it's some kind of countryside, or something. Like what you might see in fantasy books about knights and magic." Kuzan was quite right - that sounded positively odd to Ornstein. He knew well enough of the many tales and songs often passed down about the exploits of great figures of history. Lord knew he had read plenty about the great accomplishments of Oolacile before its collapse into the Abyss... Come to think of it, it made an odd sort of sense that whatever world Kuzan was plucked from held a similar tapestried history.
The sudden, ostensibly purposeless turning of Kuzan's head caught Ornstein's attention. He looked over his shoulder, in the same direction; another figure could be seen in the blank distance, rapidly approaching. Far too rapidly, in fact, for even a horse to bear one that quickly... As it turned out, this third individual was not astride a horse. Nothing of the sort, in fact. It looked like... frankly, like nothing Ornstein had ever seen. It rumbled beneath its rider with a constant, guttural growling, and bore him upon two large inline wheels as he slowed to trundle past Ornstein and Kuzan.
The knight was speechless for the moment. He merely inclined his head enough to make his nod of greeting visible through his helm, and watched the entirely black figure speed away with a sudden roar of the... thing he was riding.
"...What in Gwyn's name was that?"
"...but it's some kind of countryside, or something. Like what you might see in fantasy books about knights and magic." Kuzan was quite right - that sounded positively odd to Ornstein. He knew well enough of the many tales and songs often passed down about the exploits of great figures of history. Lord knew he had read plenty about the great accomplishments of Oolacile before its collapse into the Abyss... Come to think of it, it made an odd sort of sense that whatever world Kuzan was plucked from held a similar tapestried history.
The sudden, ostensibly purposeless turning of Kuzan's head caught Ornstein's attention. He looked over his shoulder, in the same direction; another figure could be seen in the blank distance, rapidly approaching. Far too rapidly, in fact, for even a horse to bear one that quickly... As it turned out, this third individual was not astride a horse. Nothing of the sort, in fact. It looked like... frankly, like nothing Ornstein had ever seen. It rumbled beneath its rider with a constant, guttural growling, and bore him upon two large inline wheels as he slowed to trundle past Ornstein and Kuzan.
The knight was speechless for the moment. He merely inclined his head enough to make his nod of greeting visible through his helm, and watched the entirely black figure speed away with a sudden roar of the... thing he was riding.
"...What in Gwyn's name was that?"