Mirah was furious at being sent to comb the vastness of Numenor and retrieve her little sister. But when her mother's order came, she obeyed as any true Shari would. Duty to family was important, something Mirah was planning to lecture Marinn on endlessly during the journey home.
Just the idea that someone could be so selfish as to drop all their obligations to go off in search of adventure, and then be so foolish as to look for it in the featureless and desolate grasses of this godcursed land put Mirah in the mood to stab something with her polehook. Damn that girl and double damn every mess she made for others to pick up!
But she was the only one in recent memory born with fiery red hair, a powerful symbol of good luck, and the entire village would trip over themselves to aid her. They would also let her skip sword practice, do her chores for her, overlook infractions that would normally result in harsh punishment, and sneak sweets to her whenever possible. It gave her a fat bottom, and sadly enough there were bards that composed lengthy songs praising it. And yet her own victories on the field of battle represented by her long warbraid went unsung. Good gods it burned!
Still, she was getting a little anxious for her sister's safety. There wasn't much water to be found on the plains, and Mirah doubted Marinn had came well supplied. If the girl was standing up she'd be visible for miles, but if she was lying down, she would vanish in the tall grass.
She needed to find her alive so that the speech she prepared would not go to waste.
I love you Woot, like a brother. You disappear for what seemed like a decade, only to return with an onslaught of steadily improving pictures, to such extents we've now got frigging dragons in them (and as we all know huge girls on dragons = awesome).
>Marinn I see what you did there. Then again I also browse the Oekaki.
The first thing I noticed was the 4 (6?) -eyed dragon thing she was riding. Second came the weapon she's holding, then her equipment and armor, THEN her body. Good job on fitting all of those distractions in here at once. o_o
4 eyed is right. That thing that kind of looks like another eye is the beast's ear canal. It's not a dragon, but hey- close enough (generic giant fantasy rideable lizardy thing) :)
'fiery red hair'? 'grasses'? That armor looks Familiar...could the one in THIS pic be referring to THIS one...?: http://woot.iiichan.net/index.php?image=197 XD
Uhh... how can a person "born with firey red hair" be blonde in the pic? Did they have dye at this time/age/dimention? And bestthe, I don't think so. This one provides a realistic (as dragonriding can be) view of mideval times, whilst the other was pretty much an RPG.
Yup Bestthe, you got it right. I put a comment on the Melon Stand linking to "Random Encounter" so people would make the connection. I should have put one here too.
You might want to read it again Liger03. Mirah is thinking about her red headed little sister Marinn, who she has been sent by her mother to retrieve.
@liger 03 No, Bestthe's definately got it. The girl in http://woot.iiichan.net/index.php?image=197 is also named Marinn, and they're both from Numenor, and it mentions Sword Practice, and the Marinn in the other pic has a sword... Can't be a coincidence. Also, if you read it carefully the girl with "fiery red hair" isn't the one pictured here.
Just the idea that someone could be so selfish as to drop all their obligations to go off in search of adventure, and then be so foolish as to look for it in the featureless and desolate grasses of this godcursed land put Mirah in the mood to stab something with her polehook. Damn that girl and double damn every mess she made for others to pick up!
But she was the only one in recent memory born with fiery red hair, a powerful symbol of good luck, and the entire village would trip over themselves to aid her. They would also let her skip sword practice, do her chores for her, overlook infractions that would normally result in harsh punishment, and sneak sweets to her whenever possible. It gave her a fat bottom, and sadly enough there were bards that composed lengthy songs praising it. And yet her own victories on the field of battle represented by her long warbraid went unsung. Good gods it burned!
Still, she was getting a little anxious for her sister's safety. There wasn't much water to be found on the plains, and Mirah doubted Marinn had came well supplied. If the girl was standing up she'd be visible for miles, but if she was lying down, she would vanish in the tall grass.
She needed to find her alive so that the speech she prepared would not go to waste.