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The swamp horse

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The swamp horse

Post by Kouzai on Fri Jul 10, 2015 9:33 am

The night was quickly approaching, Kouzai wasn’t left much time to get himself comfortable. He was tired, it had been an enormously long day, and nothing really can prepare someone for traveling at night. A small lantern bobbed ahead in the distance. His large pack weighing down upon him, one step, one step, one step. It just kept getting farther and farther away. Kouzai couldn’t wait to get there, the smell of fresh baked bread and minced meat soup. It was delicious, but this was swamp country, so everything smelled like a bog, and things were muddy. As he got farther and farther away from the city, Kouzai knew that the land became swampy. It had been just 3 short months since his departure from Iron country, a distance memory. There, they had two traditions, Samurai and farmer. Both didn’t suit him, both didn’t offer him want he wanted more. Some adventure, some fun, and a little companionship. Not to revel in the day to day Samurai muck, not that walking through a swamp muck was much better.

Kouzai had knew this place from before, sleeping here his first night in Iwagakure, he knew tomorrow the mountain pass would take him far past Iwagakure and into the harsh sandy desert of Sunagakure. Through he knew of the supply and way station before it, stocking up on water beforehand. He had enjoyed this country, majestic mountains and low valleys, this swamp was just another part of it. Ahead the bobbing light was now stationary, and he could see the building and hear a soft rustle of voices. He made his way to the inn, plopping down in a large table, he ordered a small bread and soup, tomorrow he would fill his belly, tonight he would rest. He listed to the news, the weather and other observations the locals made, how people were traveling. He nodded off, tales of Sunagakure floating in his head, the heat, so much heat.

The next morning, eggs, bacon, sausage, flapjacks and of course a stout ale to get the day started, no one cared here as long as you had money. His belly full, and he slept downstairs, there was nothing left, he took the left overs, a small piece of bread, half a sausage, scrape of bacon and eggs, made a sandwich and was off. The mountains were his next target.

[Exit]

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