Wesley

Wesley of Routé (until he finds a cool nickname)
Weaver
Character Profile
Profile
It had been four days of trecking through dense vegitation, avoiding bears and sleeping in trees before the young warrior finally stumbled into the middle of nowhere villiage, in the middle of nowhere in North Illica.

A cold front had rolled in on the second day of his journey which left him either chilled or damp around noon.

But finally, finally he saw the promising lights of a village at dusk, preparing for the evening ahead.

He followed the directions that had been so vaguely written down to a small cottage on the opposite side of the settlement which would serve as his accomodation for the next two nights.

After changing into a dry tunic, he lay his leathers by the warm fireplace, pulled on a much needed oair of dry socks, clean pants and swung on a dry cloak he found in chest.

They won't arrive until morning anyways, Wesley considered before heading over to the small, cheerful looking tavern he had seen on his way to the cottage.

@Abrielle Huxley
 
The loud slamming of the tavern's door announced Abrielle's arrival. She trudged in sullenly, cursing with boots full of mud, manure, and gods knew what else. Copper hair plastered to her face, she glared daggers at anyone who dared look in her direction as she stomped her away across the tavern floor.

A second door slammed as Abrielle kicked the door to her room open. "Oh Abri! Welcome back!" a cheery voice called from across the hall. "How was being a shepherd for a day?" Abrielle tipped her head to the side, scowled deeply at her fellow squire. "Oh it was just great! The damned orc left the gate unlatched, so I got to spend all day chasing those bloody sheep all over the village. It was a real dream come true!"

Before they could respond, Abri turned on her heel and shut the door. She hurriedly stripped and threw on a long nightshirt. Throwing the foul smelling clothes into a corner for the moment, she rushed out to the bath. The water was ice cold and smelled a bit funny, but Abrielle didn't care. She scrubbed and scrubbed, and at least the soap had a nice scent for what that was worth.

Abrielle eventually returned to her room, undressing once again and selecting a plain dress for the evening. Her stomach growling, she made for the dining room, picking a seat at the bar as far away from anybody else as possible.

@Wesley
 
As Wesley entered the tavern he was met with music eminating from one of the corners and the welcoming warmth thanks to a hearth.

"Just a mug of ale please." He asked the round faced bar keep. This had been on of his personal traditions, everytime the red head found himself in a new village he made it a point to have a drink at the local pub.

Unclasping his coat - the heath emitted enough warmth - Wesley took a seat at the long, rough surfaced bar. Scratching at the new beard which had grown out during his journey he took in his surroundings.

A milk maid here, some locals playing cards, an old women intently listening to the music and there...

There...

There she was!

Wesley got up so fast his knee banged against the bar. He rushed over to the far end of the bar, half stumbeling, half star stuck as he wrapped his arms around her from behind and pulled her to his chest.

His Abriella.

@Abrielle Huxley
 
Abrielle ordered a mug of ale, greedily downing it like a man dying of thirst in a desert, before ordering a second along with some stew. It had been a miserable day. First she had to deal with the orc who clearly wasn't the sharpest knife in the drawer. Then there was the sheep who weren't much better. And of course-

Her thoughts were interrupted, a strong pair of arms wrapping around her from behind, causing her to nearly jump out of her skin. "Wha-? Who the FU-" Abrielle wriggled and sharply jammed her elbow into her assailants ribs. She swiveled on her stool, grabbing their collar and pulled them close.

Why did it always have to be her? Sure, pick the smallest woman in the room to harass. But people quickly learned she had the temperament of a pissed off honey badger, and the strength of a bear to back it up.

Unlike most most of her assaulters, this one was actually kind of handsome. A giant of a man with a messy mop of red hair and a scruffy beard to match. He almost looked like somebody she knew... No- It couldn't be.

Abrielle shook the thought from her mind and turned her attention back to the man. "Just who the hell do you think you are?!" she spat.
 
Last edited:
The warm light illuminated her angry, beautiful face. A face that plauged him in his dreams for just short of a year since their last encounter.

Wesley did not even flinch when her elbow connected with his ribs, to dazed by his unbelievable luck of running into her here, in a small local tavern located in an obscure part of North Illica.

A smile he could not fight, taking up half face took over his features when she turned to him.

His joyful expression still remained.
"You mean to say you do not recognize me?"
His voice had dropped an octive since their last encounter, his build larger, muscles more prominant, his hair wilder, a short aubern beard he had not previously possesed, a new scar on his face and a new array of marking on his right arm.

Yes, he had changed quite a bit since their formal evening in a court high above the sky and she had to, somehow Abrielle was more beautiful then he had remembered before... But he would always recognize her, always know her in his heart.

A heart that was similiar to one of a dog and its master, and Wesley was undoubtedly the dog.

@Abrielle Huxley
 
Last edited:
It couldn't be. Here of all places? Out in the middle of nowhere? But deny it as much as she liked, Abrielle would recognize that foolish smile anywhere. She visibly relaxed, a joyful smile of her own briefly breaking through her angry mask.

Abrielle released her grip, giving him a light push away. Tucking her coppery hair behind one ear, she crossed her arms and leaned back against the bar. "Yeah. That's exactly what I'm saying, stupid." she growled. "Thought you looked like somebody I knew at first. But you clearly aren't him. The man I know wouldn't leave his woman in the dark, with no visits, no letters, nothing for the better part of a year. So why don't you run along and leave me alone. Go find some other unfortunate woman to harass. Sure there's plenty here who would enjoy the company of a man."

She took a good look at Wesley. He had certainly changed over the few moths they had been apart. Gone was the gangly doofus she had danced with at the ball. What stood before her was almost a new person. A strong rugged warrior stood before Abrielle as if he had stepped right out of one of her romance novels. His hair had grown out and he now had a short beard, but it was undeniably Wesley.

Abri could hear of the sound of her heart pounding in her ears and her face was burning, though whether that was out of anger or blushing she couldn't tell.

Oh how she had missed him! She fought the intense urge to tackle him to the ground and take all the kisses she thought she was due, and maybe a few extra for good measure.

She stared at him, eyes slightly narrowed. Abrielle's face once again hardened into its usual scowl, pushing her excitement to the side for the time being as she prepared to hear whatever lame excuses he could come up with.

@Wesley
 
Last edited:
Wesley was taken a back by the grouph assesment. Scratching his beard, he had never thought of sending something as simple as a letter. Then again, where would he send it to, what exactly did Abrielle do? Where did she call home? A discussion for a later stage he decided.

Who needed such aniqdotes when one was so unequvically infatuated?


"Abri,"

He reached for her hand, a small pout on his lips. He motioned for her to sit back down and took up the stool next to her, he motioned for another drink for each of them.

"If it offers you any solice, I have not engaged in nor do I seek the company of other ladies." That should comfort her and all would not most certainly be set right between them he mused.

His face lit up once more, "And look!" Wesley rolled up his right sleeve, exposed and arm decorated in sworls and intrivate ink patterns. "I have recived more markings! These past few months I have proven myself in many ways to my Queen and culture." Hes chest puffed out at the recollection, pride illuminating off of him.

@Abrielle Huxley
 
Abrielle took Wesley's hand without hesitation. His pout made her feel a touch bad about her rough treatment, and she would have to try to make it up to him before the night was through.

"You better have not had!" she stated quite matter of factly. "I would have to hunt each and every one of them down!" Abri joked.

Out of everything, that had been her biggest fear. What if Wesley had found another beautiful woman in his home kingdom or on his travels? Would he forget about her? Or would he sleep around and just not tell her about it? Wesley was HERS damn it! Deep down Abri knew he would never do such a thing, but a girl couldn't help but wonder.

Abrielle's furious expression crumbled, in its place a warm, loving smile. She traced Wesley's new markings with her free hand, using them as an excuse to feel his new muscles.

"I'm proud of you, my love." Abri leaned and kissed him lightly. She didn't really understand the markings, but they meant a lot to Wesley and that was reason enough to support him.

She picked up her ale and drank. "You must've had some exciting adventures proving yourself. Slay any dragons?" Abrielle teased.

@Wesley
 
Back
Top Bottom