all_inclusive | Entries tagged with zz: erik macsorley

There was, incidentally, a training room buried deep within the hotel and it had taken Zelda this long to find it. She usually liked to go out of doors as much as possible as she hated being confined but today she had sought out amusement within the hotel itself; doors were still something that were hit or miss and she hadn't felt like taking the risk today.

It looked nothing like a Hylian training room would look. The equipment was all impossibly modern and several contraptions were so complicated that Zelda did not have any desire to try to learn how to use them. What was of interest were several training dummies that looked remarkably like the ones used by the Hylian army to hone their sword and shield skills. This, she could work with - but not in a dress.

She returned to her room and changed into Sheikah training garb she'd worn all her years as Sheik but decided that she wanted to hone her physical skills in Zelda's body and not effect the change. Not today. It would cause too many questions and produce lies that she was unwilling to keep up for the moment. So much of her life had been trafficked in secrets and the hotel was the one place where Zelda wanted merely to be honest.

The fit was a bit tighter, considering, but Zelda had always been slender no matter which form she took. It would work for her purposes today and she stole back down to the gym to train. She had daggers tucked in her boots and launched an attack, daggers flying into the face of the two dummies to her left and right as she flung herself toward the center one to use fists and feet.

It had been a long, long time since she'd been able to use this particular set of skills.

Erik knew that the calm wasn't going to last.

You didn't spend most of your life on the water without knowing that the flat calm was only as sure as the next cloud on the horizon. Storms came and went, ebbed and flowed. There were some you could watch approach, others that turned a clear blue sky to the dark grey of impending doom. He wouldn't trade a moment of it.

For now, though, he was going to enjoy the stars overhead, the sound of water against the hull, and the memories of watching a MacDuff put the crown on Bruce's head. Between that and reuniting Chief with his bride? It hadn't been a bad month. It wouldn't always be like this and there wouldn't always be victories. They'd started a dangerous campaign and would be fighting major and minor battles along with the overall war to clear the damned English from their lands.

Erik MacSorley knew how to take advantage of every opportunity, even when the opportunity was for nothing at all to happen.

Chuckling to himself, he decided celebrations might just be in order. Meg, he knew, would welcome him and the rest of his crew with open arms...and possibly open legs. Cheered by that, he roused himself from the deck and went towards the hatch to let the lads know of his plan. His clansmen were always more likely to step lively when they knew what the payoff was.

He wasn't two steps below decks when he realized something had happened, something even Campbell couldn't see.

He was in a castle of some sort. It had to be that because no keep was as appointed as this. The floor felt strange under his boots, the air had lost the scent of the sea, and everything about where he stood fairly screamed out wrong.

Deftly, he pulled his sword from his sheath and kept his eyes out for whatever had caused this magic.

OOC: Erik is dressed like this but with Matt Barr's face.

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