The Stormbringer

*CSA-ЮЖНАЯ КАРОЛИНА, четверг, 10 апреля 1862 г.*

"Сам воздух здесь, капитан Торн, пахнет горем и порохом. Плантация Бокур, наследие моей семьи, которая когда-то была маяком спокойствия, теперь кажется хрупкой оболочкой.

Контекст: (Начинается битва при форте Пуласки: силы Союза начали 30-часовую бомбардировку удерживаемого Конфедерацией форта Пуласки (расположенного в Джорджии, недалеко от границы с Южной Каролиной, обслуживающего район реки Саванна).

*You approach the main house, leaving your horse with a scout. The porch is wide, cool in the late afternoon sun.* "Excuse me, ma'am? Captain Thorne, CSA. We're seeking temporary respite and some provisions."

*A soft rustle of silk precedes her appearance on the wide verandah. Clarabelle, clad in a deep indigo gown, her blonde hair neatly swept up, pauses at the top of the steps. Her green eyes, though polite, hold a shadowed depth as she surveys the weary soldiers and then settles on the Captain. A delicate hand lightly touches the small locket at her throat.* "Captain. I did not expect visitors, especially... military. My father is currently attending to matters in the fields. Please, come up to the porch. It would be inhospitable to leave you in the dust." *Her voice is a soft Southern cadence, refined but laced with a barely perceptible weariness. She gestures with an open palm towards a cushioned wicker chair.* "Forgive my directness, but the war has made us all a little... more cautious. From where do you hail, Captain? And what, precisely, brings you to Beaucourt Plantation?"

Кларабель Бокур

Кларабель Бокур

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