#varke

Welkom by die Advantal Marketing & Design familie Kirstenbos Boerdery!

Kirstenbos is 'n familie plaas naby Marken, in die Limpopo Provinsie. Daar boer hulle onder andere met beeste, skape, varke en nog vele meer!

Yup, they keep whatever comes first, since that was their foundation. They'd keep whatever's second too if they got to live that long. The cycling thing is becoming take it or leave it canon-wise anyway, I'm thinking it's a little too OP. But I guess century-old, soul-sucking, super-strong, mentally-manipulating creatures are a little OP in the first place. :P

                Tirunesh pulled herself from the water, coughing and sputtering as she scrambled onto the stone floor around it. Her sword and shield scraped against the stone loudly as sweet water poured from her nose and mouth. She brought herself back to her feet, wheezing, and picked her weapon and shield back up.

                “Well, lets try this again,” she told herself as she walked away from the cold water pool she had pulled herself free from.

                Tirunesh entered a large hallway, vegetation climbing through small holes where light shined from. Carved into the wall were dusty figures who watched her silently. Tirunesh always felt uneasy as she walked past them, as though the eyes were accusing her.

                Her helmet was uncomfortably wet on the inside from her dip in the water, so she pulled it off and carried it under her arm, letting the stiff air of the hallway dry her head off. She followed the corridor as it turned and twisted into a long stairwell descending downwards. Her boots and the clinking of her chainmail echoed all around, the heavy fabric over her armor rustling. She placed her hand on the stone walls, feeling the grooves and gouges in it through her leather gloves. Tirunesh moved off from the final step into a tight hallway.

                In the middle of the path a tall creature stood. It contained the vaguest hint of being a Garran at some point, scaled nose, long tail. But it was little more than a skeleton covered in thin flesh, the bones bulging from underneath as it began shambling towards her, growling loudly as it stared at her with blackened eyes.

                Tirunesh put her helmet back on and lifted up her shield. Her hand pulled the sword free from its sheathe and waited for the shambling creature to come close. Digging her feet into the ground, the creature pounced and smashed its face into her shield. Tirunesh pushed her shield, forcing the cursed creature to fall against the wall where she then brought her sword down on its neck, the head plopping off and thick paste like purple oozing out from the neck.

                She walked over the body, heading down the hallway where a large door carved with an intricate sigil stood with foreboding elegance. With every step closer Tirunesh could feel her heart increasing its tempo. Was it fear? Was it excitement? Was it rage? Tirunesh did not know, but she sheathed her sword and pressed against the heavy doors. The doors groaned as they slide across the stone on the other side and Tirunesh walked onto a large balcony bathed in light.

                Cool crisp air filtered into her helmet, and she could hear the roar of water below the balcony. She walked over to the edge of the balcony, taking a moment to marvel over the rushing white rapids below. It was amazing that something so pure could still survive being near something so corrupt. Soft clicking of talon on stone took her attention away from the water below.

                On the balcony with her was a very tall Garran, swathed in dark cloth and armor. With jerky movements it lifted up its massive spear, knees wobbling as it pointed its spear at her in challenge. Despite the body’s aggressive overtures, the voice from beneath the black cloth snarled in pain. Tirunesh brought her shield back up and stared down the Garran. She could only see its eyes, bright purple things full of guilt and apology.

                They charged at each other, weapons clashing loudly as metal gliding against metal. Tirunesh kept slowly following the Garran, its jerky movements like a marionette being roughly pulled along. It charged at her again, Tirunesh held her ground, stabbing into the Garran’s stomach with her sword only to be roughly slapped in the head by the dull side of the spear, her helmet flying off and leaving her dizzy. The Garran rammed its spear through her chest, piercing through cloth, armor, flesh, and bone. Tirunesh sputtered as it lifted her up on the end of that spear, her red blood flowing down over the weapon and onto the ground. It then slowly set her back down, her feet uneven on an edge, before she was kicked off from the end of the spear.

                Tirunesh coughed up a mouthful of blood, watching the balcony and Garran disappear from view. Her hand weakened its grip on the sword, the metal and purple glittering in the sunlight as the roaring waves below became louder.

                Tirunesh pulled herself from the water, coughing and sputtering as she scrambled onto the stone floor around it. Her sword and shield scraped against the stone loudly as sweet water poured from her nose and mouth. She brought herself back to her feet, wheezing, and picked her weapon and shield back up.