Ensign Sival: First Stop
James Scott Schumann
(( Holodeck 1, Deck 4, USS Juneau ))
Sival began walking towards T’Lea and Arys, who were conversing with one another.
T’Lea: Pick one. Except for the black one. He’s mine.
T’Lea: Something wrong?
Trovek: … Looks dark blue to me.
Sival approached. He gently joined the conversation.
Sival: Let us depart now. I believe our business at the bar is complete.
Sival looked at T’Lea. She was holding four horses by the reins. He frowned as he realized that they were to ride these horses. Sival had never ridden a horse before. Nor any animal, for that matter. He was even one of the few Vulcan children who never tamed and rode a pet sehlat.
oO There’s a first time for everything. Oo
Kendrick: ::firmly:: I am not getting up on that thing.
The comment caused Sival to wonder at least how it would be done.
T’Lea: Thing? Come now. This is a powerful majestic beast and since the safeties are on, it shouldn't kill you. Put your foot in the stirrup, grab the saddle horn, and mount up.
Sival watched as T’Lea mounted the horse. It didn’t look too difficult. He was willing to give it a try.
Kendrick: Response
T’Lea: I mean, you could ride with me, but Blaze is the jealous sort.
Sival pondered how a horse could be jealous, or have much of a personality at all. He got his answer when he saw T’Lea’s horse bite the feather off John’s hat then spit it out.
Sival nearly smiled.
Sival: It certainly is expressive.
Was it programmed to behave this way, or were all horses so dramatic? Sival wondered if his horse would have any personality to it.
He inspected one of the horses. It was smaller and in shades of brown. Sival looked it in the eye as he stroked his hand along its neck. No reaction. It just looked at him.
Sival chose it.
Hoping the horse would be gentle, and guessing the holodeck safeties would allow him a little bit of grace, he mounted the horse successfully on the first try. Still the horse didn’t react.
oO Good. Oo
Now to go about driving it. He experimented with gently tugging the reins in different manners, noting how the horse would move in response.
He just might get the hang of this.
Trovek: I think we should make our way to the weaponsmith like it was previously suggested. We might also want to get something to break open a lock, in case we can’t get a key to do this the easy way. Does that sound like a plan?
Kendrick: Response
T’Lea: Ready? Who has the map?
Kendrick: Response
T’Lea: Then lead the way.
Kendrick: Response
As the other three galloped away, Sival’s horse just stayed in place. Confused, he pulled on the reins in a different way, but that only caused the horse to step backwards. He tried again. Finally, the horse began to move, and in the right direction.
Sival: ::shouting:: I shall take up the rear!
The weather along the journey was not favorable. The wind had picked up in speed. It now had a biting chill to it. It started to sprinkle. Not enough to get the riders wet, but enough to make them feel damp and to set a dreary tone.
Arys: Welcome to France - the weather is bad, the King looks weird, buuuuut they were famous for their wine and cheese. I think.
Sival: And many other fine culinary delights, if I’m not mistaken.
And he could very well be mistaken. Usually not being vegan-friendly, French food was something Sival tended to avoid.
Kendrick/T’Lea: Response
In a short period of time, the company found themselves approaching the weaponsmith shop. From a distance, they could hear the CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! of hammer hitting metal against an anvil, or something like one - the sound of a new weapon being forged. As they drew closer, they could see the weaponsmith - a Bolian - doing his work in front of his shop despite the unfavorable weather.
The Bolian stopped what he was doing as the intrepid Musketeers dismounted.
Weaponsmith: Ah! The Four Musketeers! You have come to rescue our dear King! Please come into my shop and take whatever suits your quest!
Clearly a programmed player character, Sival thought.
The four went inside. They were surrounded by weapons of every kind, from the smallest knives to large devices that he did not recognize, and whose tortuous function he could only begin to imagine.
While Sival did not want to use a weapon, he chose a small dagger to keep on hand just in case. It was small enough, he reasoned, to be used as a pick. Hopefully, it would only need to be used for that purpose.
Woman's Voice: ::quietly:: You never did like violence, Sival. What a strange game you're playing.
Sival ignored the voice. He didn't have time for this right now. He took a deep breath, and went to stand by the door.
Kendrick/T’Lea/Trovek: Response
TAG / TBC
Ensign Sival
Medical Officer
USS Juneau, NX-99801
J239808S11