Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-5824038-20150620140931/@comment-5543592-20150627215327

Lorcan pulled his pipe out and lit it as he walked, wanting to distract himself from his thoughts, his surroundings, and the beaten road under his feet.

He remembered Skyrim as a land of green and white. The change did not bother him. Scenery and nature didn't really appeal to him at all. It was just a bizarre change, and he hadn't quite gotten over it. Not that he wouldn't.

It was then he came upon a man with a damaged cart- one of the wheels had gone of it's axel.

Lorcan glanced down at the man. He was wiry and older, and wouldn't fix the cart on his own.

"Having trouble, old man?" Asked Lorcan, chewing on his pipe.

The old man turned his head from his squated position and wiped his brow. "'Sure thing.  Can't seem to get the cart up."

Without further ado, Lorcan stepped up, and lifted the cart, quite effortlessly. The man screwed the wheel back on, and was satisfied. Lorcan released the cart when it was once again firmly on all four wheels.

"Thank you, sir."

"Yeah, whatever.  Where are you headed?"

"Just east of here, I caravan to settlements and farms."

"I'll ride with you then."

"I'd be honored."

Just fucking save it for someone who needs to hear that kind of shit.  Lorcan didn't care how thankful the man was. He'd just done it because the alternatie was senseless. He climbed up into the man's cart, the old man whipped the reins, and they were off.