|
|
|
|
Author |
Topic: The Shattered Sky (Read 1200 times) |
|
Stravinsky
Forum God
Last On: 12/07/07
View Profile
Message Player
United States
Posts: 1107
|
...Mando strolled into Maelstrom's grove. He's felt drawn to it of late, although it always leaves him feeling somber, empty. "She is happy now, you know." Mando spins around quickly, surprised to find Maelstrom standing right behind him. "You move like a deer, Maelstrom. I didn't even notice your approach." Maelstrom sits on a nearby trunk, toppled in the recent rain, and motions Mando to join him.
"Take a look at this tree we are sitting on. Just a few days ago it stood majestically amongst the others, it's branches reaching for the sun. Now it has been ripped from the earth, its leaves withering, its trunk split. It's life as a tree has ended. But, it is still a living part of nature." Maelstrom points further down the trunk. "See, the moss has already begun to grow along the edges. Mushrooms are beginning to sprout. And hundreds, perhaps thousands of insects have found a new home. It's role in the world may have changed, but it is no less an integral part of nature now than it was when it still stood."
Maelstrom stands up and lays a hand on Mando's shoulder. "The same goes for Mae. She served nature well as a druid of Silvanus before. Now, she has become closer to Silvanus than she ever could before. She is one with her deity and is at peace. Think on that, and let it settle your mind."
Mando walked much with Maelstrom over the next few weeks, learning what he could of nature. He learned the names of many of the animals, and saw how they were able to slip unnoticed amongst the trees. Slowly he also came to realize why Mae always drew so much strength from the beauty of the natural world, and finally was able to see that her spirit would be most at peace amongst the grasses in the sacred grove of her god...
|
|
 I.P. Logged |
|
|
|
Stravinsky
Forum God
Last On: 12/07/07
View Profile
Message Player
United States
Posts: 1107
|
...The deer grazed slowly on the long grass mostly peacefully, but not entirely. No, there was something...something at the edges of its vision. But the deer of Maelstrom's grove had long learned not to fear, and besides, she knew by now what it was that she couldn't see. She had learned to identify the bare wisps of his scent, even before she felt his hand gently start to stroke her back.
The deer turned to her left to see the small halfling grinning at his own prowess. Out came his hand, offering her a small bundle of the delicious berries the deer could never quite reach. She eagerly licked them from his palm, a palm that was already beginning to vanish. Soon Mando was gone entirely, except for that faint blur at the edges of her vision.
If anyone was there to hear, they would swear they heard the deer sigh. That halfling was beginning to make a nuisance of himself. The deer slowly licked her lips. But those berries are certainly delicious...
|
|
I.P. Logged |
|
|
|
neph
Expert Poster
Last On: 05/12/07
View Profile
Message Player
United States
Posts: 292
|
me so glad now hunt wit KING c momy an dady me be akcepted by trib now dady gav me de famile axe me so onered he say sumptin i no undrstan about not keepin me but dat no matter now me ofishial ORCSLAYER now axe make me mor powrful now elf sem like budy to KING so i guess me hav to leev him lon now we be teem now dady say alwas work wit teem hunt wit KING was mesd up by demoons but we killed dem all me fall in combat but was saved halflink me tink HAHAHA elf run into sheelf an she cal him dro him got so mad me jus laff now him no how me fel me must kill nu thr thr thret dat way me help KING and him be proood and so momy an dady me also got nu armor me tink we got al me ned for nu battle me neded clos pin for nos fish pepl hom mell bad but nu axe work lik charm me stomp many badees did me get teth me chek me tink me forget some me mak nekless son den give to me son me hop me fin wif soooon halflink keps sain we get to sawsag soooon me hop so me lik eatin sawsag aldo we did run into sum bad guys on rod me had to get aroun teem to get dem nex tim we talk to pepl me jus walk arond dem to get cleer shot at dem dat wil teech dem HAHAHA lok like we getin redy to go me hop der be somon to chop sooon
|
|
I.P. Logged |
|
|
|
neph
Expert Poster
Last On: 05/12/07
View Profile
Message Player
United States
Posts: 292
|
me tired o watin on halflink me be neaky to me got ring and poshons to mak me in inv invizabl me use dem and neak in wif halflink me be firs to attak me sho dem who bes WARRIOR be me will if dem so mart ho cumes dey no buy poshons HAHAHAHAHAHA
|
|
I.P. Logged |
|
|
|
neph
Expert Poster
Last On: 05/12/07
View Profile
Message Player
United States
Posts: 292
|
*Naraku looks up at everybody while closing his journal*
HAHAHAHAHA
|
|
I.P. Logged |
|
|
|
Erik_the_Celt
Extreme Poster
Last On: 11/03/06
View Profile
Message Player
Canada
Posts: 502
|
Morgan chuckled softly to himself, as he waded out of the slimy Suhauguin den. He could hear Dale shouting at him over the foredeck of Daebean, “Damm it Morgan, first day out and you’re splashing me all over with fish guts. Why can’t you keep you’re clumsy cleric hide out of the muck.” Reaching the entrance of the cave, he grabbed his pack from behind the bushes where it had been left and hurried over to the stream. Quickly, he pealed off his armour and splashed into the cold mountain water. He washed the muck from the cave off his body and then stepped out into the sunshine on the hill.
Opening his pack, Morgan pulled out an old worn blanket and a jar of oil. After drying himself with the blanket, he returned to the stream and began washing the fish guts off the armour. Carefully, he scooped up some sand from the streambed and scrubbed the guts of Suhauguin mage off the right grieve and the breastplate. Then taking the blanket, he carefully dried each piece and laid it out in the afternoon sun. He took a small bowl from his pack and a flask of Cormyrian brandy. He poured some of the oil into the boil and added a drop of the brandy. He offered a short prayer to Helm for the repose of Dale’s soul then using a small piece of cloth from the blanket he rubbed the oil and brandy into the leather straps that held the armour together. After carefully oiling all of the straps he put away the brandy and oil, washed the bowl and returned it to his pack. He then removed a bag of wax. He mixed some of the wax with some soot from the fire and began polishing the armour to take of the shine. No need to signal the Zhents or Mammon’s troops that he was approaching.
As he sat polishing the right paldron he looked across the fire to where Naracku was writing in his journal. I wonder what he is writing there, thought Morgan, an account of each tooth he has collected? Who will read it? Perhaps he is composing a song of his deeds to sing to his parents. That would be a wonderful thing. Such loving parents, I envy him greatly. What must it be like to have a father and one who is proud of his son? Ah mother, why did you choose as you did, a wandering minstrel? Father, why did you leave us, leave me? Where are you now, are you alive or dead? What songs do you sing?
Shaking his head, Morgan thought to himself, Mtor is more father to me now than ever Oran was. I must pray for his soul tonight, that Helm will bless him no matter where he is or what he is doing. He finished the greaves and laid them out beside the full armour, then he wrapped it all carefully in the great cape for protection against the damp air of the morning. Morgan walked slowly in amongst the small grove of birch that grew close to water. He breathed deeply and thought of the long days in the High Forest, then he knelt at the foot of the largest tree and began his evenings devotion to Helm.
|
|
I.P. Logged |
|
|
|
neph
Expert Poster
Last On: 05/12/07
View Profile
Message Player
United States
Posts: 292
|
After writting in his journal Naraku notices Morgan cleaning up his armor.He then looks down at his armor and sniffs it. "PEEUUUU"
He get up and jumps into the stream. Dunks his head under water jumps out and screams"YES" "now me armor clean".
He then walks back to his pack and reaches in for something. He pulls out the head of one of the hybreds that was just vanquished. He looks at his right shoulder, then his left. Grabbing the head with his right hand he shoves it hard onto one of the left shoulder spikes.
"HAH! Me have two heads now!"
He picks up his new axe and starts spinning with it practicing the new maneuver the axe grants him. "LOOK at me!" "me get em all now!"
After a couple of spins the head falls off his shoulder. "RARGH!" He picks it up and places it back on the spike. He then starts spinning again. And again the head falls off. He looks down at the head, Then looks around to see if anyone is watching. He then pick up the head and throws it at the cave entrance. As it hits the rocks it makes a loud crunching noise.
"HAHAHAHAHA" "me show tupid head!"
Then he goes back to practicing his new technique.
|
| « Last Edit: on: Jan 24, 2005, 11:34AM » |
I.P. Logged |
|
|
|
neph
Expert Poster
Last On: 05/12/07
View Profile
Message Player
United States
Posts: 292
|
me no like boatsme fall off but got back on me like land better elf got mity bosy on boat to him think him own it or sumpin den me meet pretty lady but she turned out to be preestess of mamon or sumpin me wanted to chase her but she got away den we meet wizerd that made big metal monsters elf and halfink just talk an talk an talk an talk all me spells run out cause all dey did was talk an talk an talk me wanted to mash cold jem but dey did no let me den we met a drow she seem to no halflink hmmm now me wonder if me on rit side me no like workin for drow now we got go look for some thefes for inf*words scratched out* clus me keep an i on halflink an elf drow seem to int*words scratched out* like him hmmm me hope wit i on halflink an i on elf me can stil keep eye out for orcs
|
|
I.P. Logged |
|
|
|
Erik_the_Celt
Extreme Poster
Last On: 11/03/06
View Profile
Message Player
Canada
Posts: 502
|
Morgan awoke to the trumpeting snores of Naracku as slept in the corner of Elvira’s room. There was no sign of Mando or Mtor in the room. No doubt they were still prowling the back alleys of the city looking for the thieves guild, if they hadn’t already found them. Morgan crawled out of his bedroll and made use of the chamber pot. He washed his face and hands in the basin by the window. The night was beginning to lighten into a predawn grey as he rolled up the bedroll and stowed his gear in his pack. He lifted his armour and went through the rear door onto the balcony at the back of the inn. Gently, he laid out the armour where the first rays of the sun would catch it. Then he knelt and began praying to Helm.
He began by giving thanks for the safe journey to Suzail and the joy of Mtor as they had cruised the Dragonmere. He asked Helm’s blessing upon the four companions and thanked Shevarash for his blessing of Ca’Dish and the grace now growing in Mtor’s spirit. He asked Helm to guide his spirit in the lawful paths and bring justice to the Realms. He asked for a sign of Dale, that he might learn well how to release his soul to Hall of Heroes. He thought back to the days when the three sailed over the Dragonmere together. His body rocked to the rhythm of the waves and he felt his begin to soar over the city. He flew again into Mando’s time and saw Skull Crag in the distance. He could see the countryside, green and fair spreading out beyond the city gates. He could see below him, elves and humans, halflings and dwarves and all the mixed breeds working together to till the soil and care for the forests.
Helm had answered his prayer; this was the future that the companions had changed. The foul cities had not grown and the Bain Sidhe had not conquered the people. A great wave of relief washed over Morgan’s spirit. He felt refreshed and relieved as though he had bathed in the waters of Elbath. His spirit soared as he rose over the hills around Skull Crag and the monastery of the Bain Sidhe. As he flew by, the great doors of the monastery burst open and hundreds of elves flew out over the land. They wave bizarre looking wands and staffs in twisted shapes. They spread out over the land. Morgan dips and soars into the mass of Bain Sidhe, waving his hands in the beginning of a spell, he spies the leader, this must be Ce’Lith Greyling. Morgan begins the words of the death spell, as he fly's towards Ce’Lith. Suddenly from Ce’Lith’s twisted rod a bolt of light blasts into Morgan’s face. He begins falling, in the blinding light he sees dimly the slaying of humans, halflings, dwarves, orcs, gnomes. He hears the cry of the Bain Sidhe, “death to the impure, death to the fallen races”. Morgan sees the elves weep as their neighbours are killed; even some of the elves are slaughtered in the rain of fire lightning coming from the weapons of the flying elves. As he nears the ground, Morgan hears the triumphant cry of the elves, “Purity, the race is restored, let the old ways return!”
As he hits the ground, Morgan sees the mountains split open and Mammon leading forth the armies of hell. They storm out over the land, slaying the elves on the land and in the air. The blasts of the Bain Sidhe’s weapons splash over the demons without damage. Mammon roars through the land, “Vengeance is mine. Sweep the land of all of the living my troops. Let them all taste of the power of Mammon and worship me. Let them praise me with pain and suffering and let the Bain Sidhe lead them all in the fire and ice of my realm. Let no-one stand before you”. As Morgan crashed into the ground he felt the blasts of the demons, faintly, he heard Mammon’s last command, “Find me the fools of the Deabean, let me treat them to the pleasures of those who oppose me”. Then everything went black.
Morgan groaned as came to, slumped over the armour of his hope. The faint rays of dawn were lighting the roofs of Suzail. Faintly, he heard the soft tread of someone climbing the stairs to the balcony. He felt around for the handle of his hammer as a hooded and cloaked shape grew in the morning light. He breathes a prayer to Helm as he gathered himself to spring out at the person climbing the stairs. As he launches himself out of the shadows, he catches a glimpse of a smaller shape following the other up the stairs. As he collides into the leading person, Morgan groans “Mtor”, before they all begin crashing and rolling down the stairs in a heap.
|
|
I.P. Logged |
|
|
|
neph
Expert Poster
Last On: 05/12/07
View Profile
Message Player
United States
Posts: 292
|
Naraku wakes with a start. He grabs the family axe the ORCSLAYER and jumps up. He follows the noise to see Morgan unhurt and gathering himself apparently.
" HEY! ME tryin to sleep up here!" He returns to his bed roll muttering, "human to noisy, how me sleep? Must be rested to start killin bad guys again."
He lays his right next to him and covers it with him. With a final "Humph" he lays down with one hand behind his and the other on his axe.
|
|
I.P. Logged |
|
|
|
anoikis
Extreme Poster
Last On: 01/13/08
View Profile
Message Player
United States
Posts: 373
|
In the gathering darkness, as he made his way towards the docks, Mtor filled his nostrils with the smell of the sea. The salt, the fish, the freshness of it all. His ears took in the slow rhythm of waves breaking nearby and water clunking under the docks.
The sight of the Daebean in the dark- quiet as a meditating monk, brought a spontaneous smile to his worn face. The Daebean. The boat he named after the legume that had been the livlihood of the anoikis clan for gods know how long was now his livlihood. And it was whole again.
He nodded and flipped a silver to the dock guards and climbed on board. Running his hand down the newly resealed hull, he made his way to the bow. Another smile. This. This is the place where he felt whole. On the seas, in this small but worthy vessel.
Looking out into the blackness of the waters his mind drifted. He thought about all that had transpired since that fatefull day when he made his way back to his village, his ravaged village. How far had he come since then, he thought. He was no longer part of an elven community- the holidays, traditions- even the food, were all in the past. At times he felt like an imposter- like elves who marry into human villages and assimilate to their ways. His closest companions over the last several years had been humans. He delighted in human drink, sport, and human women! Was he his father?
Mtor shook his head to clear it and stooped. He unlocked the central hatch and made his way to his quarters.
At length Mtor removed his armor and and lit two oil lamps flanking the small length of his work desk. Next he pulled away the rug under his feet to reveal the smooth planks of the floor. He found the correct board and pryed it up with his dagger. Reaching in, he removed the adjacent plank to reveal a space. Mtor brought one of the lamps closer to discover that everything was still in place. He breathed a sigh of relief and pulled out several items.
First, a black leather- bound tome. His log. He shook his head, "I sure have some catching up to do" he said aloud. Next, he removed an earthen jug. Standing up, he reached for a cup on his desk and filled it with the deep red from the jug. He drank deeply- more of a gulp than appropriate for so fine a vintage. Finally, he pulled out a box as long as his forearm.
After replacing the boards and the rug, Mtor sat at his desk , inked the quill and opened his log. He frowned "where do I begin ?"
|
| « Last Edit: on: Feb 10, 2005, 2:09AM » |
I.P. Logged |
|
|
|
anoikis
Extreme Poster
Last On: 01/13/08
View Profile
Message Player
United States
Posts: 373
|
After spending the last three hours recanting his recent life into his log, he stands and stretches.
I believe that is everything, he thinks to himself.
He returns to the prior day's events in his mind. The elf, Ca'dish- I really misjudged him, initially. He seemed to be just another wealthy, arrogant city elf...I was amazed at his willingness to listen and accept our story- What an honorable elf. And what of the moment when I invoked the black archer? I know he spoke to me then and there.
Mtor's mind then drifted farther back- back to what he thought of as the 'pleasant time'- following the destruction of the lich and before the recent raid. He hadn't told the others of his meeting with the priest of Shevarash. He turned the pages in the log back to this and read his thoughts again.
The elf was grim, older- but by no means elderly. He wore a simple black tunic with the broken arrow over a tear sign of Shevarash, The Black Archer. He called himself 'Ferson the Avenger.' I noticed the look on the cleric's face when I removed his helm, my darkened skin...
I was received, however, and was able to tell the priest my story- that of the Drow raid on the village and the history of prior raids, including that of the grandfather I never knew.
This gave him pause. GRANDFATHER. An endearing term, to be sure- not deserving of this agent of evil who savored the spoils of victory upon his hapless grandmother. Certainly NOT his father's father- the Daebean farmer and sunshine distiller whom he had learned so much from. With a sigh his thoughts of the temple visit returned and he continued reading.
I showed Ferson the scroll uncle Jak had given me- and deciphered the script. The sign of Shevarash, drawn in my uncle's hand, prominent in the corner of the manuscript.
The inscription read :
Shevarash, who embodies the hatred the Fair Folk hold for the drow, is the elven god of vengeance and military crusades. He is venerated by the elves and half-elves who have suffered the loss of loved ones through violence, particularly those who burn with revenge against the drow,and by those who have sworn to destroy the Spider Queen and the other evil gods of the dark elves. Some elven theologians speculate that Shevarash serves to gather in the bitterness and hatred that has riven the elven race since the Crown Wars, thus keeping the contagious evil of the Spider Queen from spreading to the elven population at large. (OOC credit:Master E. L. Boyd)
Ferson seemed to take to me and I spent the day and several days following learning of the Black Archer. I learned of the elf Shevarash and his struggle against the dark elves, which was so valiant that it earned him deification. I learned ways of honoring the black archer, the symbols, some signs.
I was struck with a myriad of emotions. Ferson showed only anger and bitterness- no other emotion was present. He did admit to bouts of joy when the enemy is defeated. He spoke of the lieutenants of Shevarash- and how they seek out known entrances to the underdark, waiting and watching for any Drow to emerge. I learned that Shevarash has moderated his hatred toward the Drow who live above and have renounced the spider queen in favor of the good goddess Elistraee- the dark maiden; but he still dislikes all pure Drow.
Despite my age and dark blood, I was extended a probationary invitation to join the order as an lieutenant- a move that Ferson felt would need to be approved by the council-at-large. I thought about this- but not for long; and respectfully declined. I am a tracker, a sailor, and an bowman of the arcane- but a priest I was just not cut out to be. Perhaps if I had a son someday I would offer him as a priest of Shevarash- maybe even an archer priest- blessed with the arcane knowledge that I have distilled from his uncle. I will honor the Black Archer- this experience HAD changed me, but I cannot drop everything and become a Lieutenant of Shevarash- training perpetually, tracking the Drow relentlessly.
I will, however, delight in the death of his enemies and serve the cause of anything that opposes the Drow. After all, the enemy of my enemy is my friend.
|
| « Last Edit: on: Feb 10, 2005, 10:44PM » |
I.P. Logged |
|
|
|
anoikis
Extreme Poster
Last On: 01/13/08
View Profile
Message Player
United States
Posts: 373
|
He thought back to the day he purchased the feather mattress. The merchant could not have known (nor cared about) his embarrassment in purchasing the luxury item. Because of his adventuring father's riches, he had known such comforts as a youngster. As he matured, however, he eschewed these material things in favor of the austere comfort of nature. How could he track animals if he did not live like them? He slept under the stars, found safe water to drink, and hunted for his food. When on the seas, fishing or as a crewmember of a merchant vessel, he found cold comfort and solace in the clean work of a seaman and fisherman. He knew his strongest days as a tracker and hunter were over. But his skill with the longbow was increasing, particularly the ability to enchant and imbue his arrows.
Just before dawn he arose, feeling refreshed after two hours of deep sleep. The long box from his ‘vault’ was next to his cot. He placed several scrolls back into their cases and in the box. A new world of the arcane had been opened to him, via Uncle Jak’s writings. He replaced the box in the vault.
At length he made his way back to the inn where the others were. He sighed and thought about this Elvira- a Drow. He resigned himself to let the others deal with her. Obviously a surfacer, she would be tolerated by him- but no more.
Running into Morgan (literally) he peered at his friend. Clumsy cleric! “You know, Morg- you can stay on your boat while it is close by. We will have to fix up the small hold as your new quarters. It would seem there would be plenty of space there for you and perhaps a corner for Dale” he patted the priest’s armor. Glancing over at Naracku he said “ My aren’t you lovely in the morning” Where is that hairy-footed thief?
|
|
I.P. Logged |
|
|
|
Stravinsky
Forum God
Last On: 12/07/07
View Profile
Message Player
United States
Posts: 1107
|
Mando walked the streets of Suzail, his cloak wrapped tightly around him to protect against the cold night wind. He kept telling himself that he was searching out the thieves' guild, but he knew there was no point. The thieves' guild in a city like Suzail would have plenty of hiding places to choose from, and the skill to find the best one in order to avoid the law. They would need the help of the beggars to even have a chance, and this late at night, they were huddled together for warmth, avoiding the cold in fitful sleep. The truth was simple. He couldn't sleep. And he didn't know why.
They had been ruining Mammon's plans at every turn. They killed his lieutenant. They've even managed to prevent Ca'Dish from helping the Bain Sidhe. He should be sleeping contentedly in his room, knowing that he'd made great strides in preventing the destruction of his age. But something was nagging at the back of his mind, something he couldn't quite put his finger on...
His mind drifted back to his previous life, his time in the shire, his adventures with Warren and Mae. Even with the struggles they went through, it seemed a simpler time. He remembered exploring the Ca'Dish ruins, seeing the devastating power that was unleashed, and smiled to himself knowing that now, it would not come to pass.
He stopped midstep, finally realizing that thought that had been just beyond his reach. The ruins. They were a major part of his world, and they affected much of the surrounding area. At least, they were a major part. Now...now they will never exist. He shuddered, but not from the cold. All this time he's only been focused on completing his mission, but he hadn't thought about the side-effects his actions would have on his time. What else had he changed without even thinking about it? Would he even have a time to return to now? Or would it be the same as when he was sent back to the past...the mountains and rivers the same, but everything else so very alien. Would his family even exist? Mando stared at his hand, half expecting it to slowly fade to nothing...
There would be no sleep tonight. He wandered the streets all night, lost in his thoughts. When his cloak slipped off, he simply left it where it lie. The cold breeze pricking his skin had never felt so good.
|
| « Last Edit: on: Feb 10, 2005, 8:37PM » |
I.P. Logged |
|
|
|
Skeeneyman
Forum God
Last On: 06/30/11
View Profile
Message Player
United States
Posts: 1766
|
“Report,” Orders a woman with a thick French like accent. “My lady, our bounty hunters have been unsuccessful in eliminating the crew of the Daebean. They lived with the Guardians of Myth Drannor for a few months at the Crossroads Tavern, which you know full well that we cannot go within a mile of it without great risk,” the general pauses for a moment. The woman looks greatly annoyed at this news and the air becomes thick with tension. The captain clears his throat and continues. “They recently left the Crossroads tavern and headed back to the Danlet Township to reclaim there ship. It was during this time our Bounty hunters attacked but they were unsuccessful and died in the attempt.” This actually seemed to amuse the woman to some small degree. “So I assume they have returned to there ship and vanished forever. Is that the case captain?” Smiling the general continues, “No mistress, our spies in Suzail have seen them. bounty hunters are now in route to the city. We dare not risk an incident within the city walls. However, the bounty hunters are freelance thus not our responsibility.” The woman nods in agreement. “Well done general.”
The woman stands up and walks over to a large table covered with maps. She motions for the general stand next to her. “There has been another development. There has been an earthquake in the dessert.” She points to the area of the map where the Dragon Wall is located. “A large section of the Great Dragon Wall has broken exposing the Easterlands. I order you to send a large caravan to that area and attempt to negotiate with the Easterners. If they do not agree to your terms,” she smiles at the general, “eliminate them.” “Mistress, the Lion Tribe is also in that area. They could be a problem” The woman lets out a loud chuckle. “They will not bother you general. It would seem that many of there warriors thought it would be funny to run into the Easterlands while the wall is down. The whole area is in complete chaos. The barbarians are drunk and the Easterners are in a total panic. They are ripe for picking. If the barbarians do give you any trouble, “she pauses considering what she is about to say, “eliminate them as well.”
|
|
I.P. Logged |
|
|
|
Erik_the_Celt
Extreme Poster
Last On: 11/03/06
View Profile
Message Player
Canada
Posts: 502
|
Morgan crawled away from the pile of bodies at the foot of the stair. "Demons" he muttered, half to himself, half to Mtor and Mando. He brushed the dust off of his worn linen tunic and blushed at Mtor. "The thief was underneath you, I think. He must been have distracted by something to be caught so off guard."
Climbing back up the stairs, Morgan said, “About the hold, I think I’ll stick around with Naracku, Captain. I don’t think we should leave him alone in the city.” Morgan picked up the armour and wrapped in oilcloth. With the amour carefully wrapped, he descended the stairs and set off into the early morning activity of the city. “I’m going to find a temple, I’ll be back after morning prayers.”
|
|
I.P. Logged |
|
|
|
Erik_the_Celt
Extreme Poster
Last On: 11/03/06
View Profile
Message Player
Canada
Posts: 502
|
Morgan sighed as he watched Mtor begin the long walk down to the Daebean. He could feel the sadness in his friend, though there was no outward sign in the proud elf’s bearing. He felt the pull of his heart and knew that this night; he could not let Mtor go alone. Turning to Mando, he said “Keep an eye on Naracku, please. Don’t let him spend too much time in tavern. I have to go with Mtor.”
“Captain, wait!” Morgan called, “I’m coming with you.” Mtor turned and waved him welcome. Morgan quickened his step until he reached Mtor’s side. “About the wine, Captain, I do seem to remember a certain fine vintage.” Together, the two companions began the long walk down to the harbour. Morgan knew that there would be very little rest this night, a fey mood was on the Captain and there would be much talk before they sought their bunks that night.
Elvira had pricked Mtor in the heart and there was too much truth in her words to let Mtor rest easy. Morgan felt the struggle in Mtor’s soul as his friend wrestled with the thought of a good drow. He knew it must burn Mtor’s soul to even consider the thought of her presence and worse, she treated Mtor as though he was a male drow to be used and discarded. How would I feel, he wondered to be confronted with a good Zhent and a female at that.
Yes it would be a long night and at the end there would only be heartache and loss.
|
|
I.P. Logged |
|
|
|
neph
Expert Poster
Last On: 05/12/07
View Profile
Message Player
United States
Posts: 292
|
we finalee got to do some killin gin no more long talkin me hate dat bad was de fackt we were spossed to keep some alive me try reel hard to nok em out but sillee halflink kept killin em me coulda done dat me got new wand dat stops peepl from moovin den me go up and punch dem till dey fall but noooooooooooooo dey alwas killem and dey mak fun ov me sayin me dumb me n*words scratched out* know dey make fun ov me me cee it me hole live me sho dem me best warrior me even save elf HA me used wand on big bad an his doggie me waz one dat wun dat battle even do halfink killim dats cause me tri to knok him out me got big hammer now me like axe better me need find out if me kan add magic to axe halflink got nice lookin blade with green light me like me feel funny now somtin hapen to me me diferent now me not know what but me fin out maybe dat what mommy meant when she say me special
|
|
I.P. Logged |
|
|
|
neph
Expert Poster
Last On: 05/12/07
View Profile
Message Player
United States
Posts: 292
|
"hmmm"
*watches as Morgan and Mtor walk towards the docks*
"dey no like stayin wit us?"
*looks down at Mando*
"phooey on dem! Me done wit journal entry, now me go DRINK!"
"ya comin halflink?"
|
|
I.P. Logged |
|
|
|
Erik_the_Celt
Extreme Poster
Last On: 11/03/06
View Profile
Message Player
Canada
Posts: 502
|
Morgan braced his knees against the starboard rail of the Daebean and relieved himself into the murky waters of the harbour. The first light of dawn was producing a golden tip on the waves farther out to sea and the gulls were beginning their raucous dance around the garbage scow. He could smell the wind rising out of the east and knew there would be no travelling today. A storm was coming and it would be a foul day for any travellers on their way to the mountains. He spat into the sea and made his stumbling way down the hold where his hammock was slung. It had been a long night of wine and sorrow in the Captain’s cabin and he would need a day and a night to sleep it off.
Gwennet he thought, what realm in the heavens do you adorn now? She would have liked Elvira’s spirit even if she would have hated the thought of liking a drow. It must be hard to live in a world full of hatred for the colour of your skin, knowing yourself not to blame, knowing you have no control over any of it. Morgan could tell that Mtor was struggling with his soul over this. The pillars of his existence were crumbling under the shattering force of Elvira’s presence. A lawful Drow, it contradicted the very essence of Mtor’s being. Thank Helm I do not have wrestle with this thought Morgan. I would not have the strength to bear what Mtor bears.
He paused at the foot of the stairs, sniffing the aroma of fresh pine and tar. It was good to be alone on Daebean after so long, Mando and Naracku had been good company on the voyage but they lacked Dale’s skill with the ropes and the sails. Fresh pine he thought, it shouldn’t be fresh. He held his hammer up and began to prowl the hold, looking closely at the ribs and joists of Daebean. Peering closely at the seams, he see a few small trickles of water where the wood was beginning to bow. Damm, he thought, they used green wood to do then repairs in Danlet. No doubt they the used all their seasoned wood for the repair of local vessels and the town. Thank Helm we had a calm voyage here. More bad news for Mtor, he’ll not be welcoming this. We’ll have to get this work checked out with a proper ship builder.
Stowing his hammer in his sea chest, Morgan climbed into his hammock and stretched out. Where are you now Mother, he wondered. Are you still walking the trails of the High Forest? Are you wading in the Cefn brook and drinking deeply of its crystal waters? He could see her, trembling like a deer in the shadows, her brown eyes wide and open. Why did he leave you, why did he leave us? He should have been there. Morgan drifted off to sleep in the lazy swing of the hammock, a tear still tricking from eye.
|
| « Last Edit: on: Feb 12, 2005, 3:57AM » |
I.P. Logged |
|
|
|
|
|
|
