Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-37523810-20190307035754/@comment-33719112-20190324233215

The boat's stop jarred Fayn from his motion-sickness induced stupor and drew him to the rowboats with some of the others. As he approached, he pulled his helmet over his head to hide his clearly nausated mug from the other knights.

One by one, the boats were lowered and set off to shore, where tents had dotted the shoreline as far as the eye could see, or at least, as far as he could see. It's been a while since he's seen such a thing. Last time was with a group of his fellow 'bandits' on the main land, where they had liberated a few choice pieces of armor and jewellery from a few choice people of high standing. The thought took his mind off the rocking and rowing to shore.

The boat crept to the shore, and all at once, the soldiers piled out, integrating themselves with the rest of the force at hand. Fayn found himself stumbling onto shore, and looking for a commanding officer to give a debriefing.