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Post by Atrus Rand on Nov 26, 2006 19:16:10 GMT -5
Atrus rubbed his eyes, pulling keys out of his numerous pouches and pockets. He looked worn, tired, and the gods knew he just wanted to collapse right there, but he wouldn't let himself. He stood before a large door with a familiar emblem engraved in it. He knew that emblem well, for he himself had carved it. He pushed the key into the lock and opened the doors slowly, stepping inside with his meager amount of luggage.
It was late, and only a cleaner noticed his entrace. He came over and offered to take Atrus' luggage to his room. Atrus gladly accepted the offer.
"I'll be in the library." Atrus said, making his way wearily past the cleaner. As he walked, he looked towards his left at the billboard he had placed there so long ago. He noticed a few letters pasted there. He looked up at it, reaching up, he pulled off a letter slowly.
It was his own. One he sent here very long ago.
"I take it a few of the others will be delighted with my return." He said to himself, making his way to the library. "I'm sure Yule this year will be as chaotic as usual, now that I've returned." He walked, reaching the library doors. He opened them, finding the place a bit of a mess, since there were a few books scattered here and there. He walked in and started cleaning up a bit, noting some of the titles of the books he picked up. Yes, these books were the ones that he referred to Wallace. "I should have expected as much." He said, placing the books on his desk, one that was very neglected.
He sat down, took out a quill and a paper and started to write.
"Attention Evermoore. I am personally in need of a Tradesman who can perform a baptism. I need to be reaffirmed."
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Post by Wallace MacBix on Nov 27, 2006 1:48:35 GMT -5
hey, wallace is too literate, and besides books on the art of killing would very much peek his insterst. but i have to say i'll miss seeing you for yule.
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Post by Li Tun-ye on Nov 27, 2006 19:08:22 GMT -5
Sobbing, the young child ran into the bard's arm. He prefered that the orphans called him "brother", and coming from the same ill-fated fishing village had strengthened such a bond with the children and the bard.
"Brother," she cried,"I was so scared." She buried her face into his silk robes to hide the tears from her eyes.
"Shhh," he replied in a low whisper, "it's all right, little one. But you must not call me by that name. Those bandits may still be about." His left hand held not his lute, but his trademark darts.
"No, they're gone," she sniffed, "It was you who chased them away."
"But that can't be," he said as he kept his eyes fixed on the golden-clad shadow that disappeared into the night ahead of him. His sea elf friend remained back with the other orphans, nursing the wounds of the previous fight. And yet as the bard looked on, the tell-tale signs of battle left their mark.
"Tell me, Lien," he asked softly, "What happened here?"
"Isn't it obvious?" an soft old voice replied, "Use your eyes, boy."
"Grandfather!" the bard cried exasperatedly, "You'll give me away!"
"No need," the old man replied softly, "Whoever they were, they've taken off. Look around and see the arrows that have fallen. The first few were precision shots, but the rest were hurried and hit only air. The snare you're standing on, no doubt the work of the bandits, was disarmed in the confusion. Whoever did this was either meticulous, or horribly erratic."
"This one," the old man replied as he hoisted up a restrained brigand, "was rendered unconcious in a single blow. No doubt a look out. You might want to show him the error of his ways."
Taking the struggling man, the bard undid his blindfold and gag. At once, the bandit's eyes grew wide as he saw the bard before him.
"But, this isn't possible!" he cried, "We were certain that you were the Yellow Dart. The boss paid us a handsome sum to bring you it. But...then he stormed us. And now, here you are...and just in time to watch him run off into the night."
"I told your men before," the bard stammered as he feigned weakness and cowardice, "I'm just a performer. And now you have your proof. How could I possible be the Yellow Dart when there he was running into the night, right before both our eyes? Go back to your boss before I turn you in to the local prefect."
The bewildered brigand happily complied and ran into the night. As the bard turned to meet the eyes of his granfather, the little girl once more spoke up.
"But if it wasn't you, and it wasn't Blue, then who saved me?"
"When I see him in Evermoore," Li replied with a grin, "I'll be sure to thank him for you."
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Post by Li Tun-ye on Nov 27, 2006 19:18:08 GMT -5
My gift to you. It'll be great to have you back causing catastrophes with me, buddy.
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Post by Wallace MacBix on Nov 30, 2006 0:28:38 GMT -5
FWAP once again reunited, walks into town ready to kick some ass, swords drawn, fresh blood driping onto the group as they walk.
Guess what....FWAP's back.
oh and on a side note.....i might be able to go to the Dec event....i'm not sure yet, but honeslty i had two finals to worry about after it. but one is getting moved up, and the other is a poster session which we're going to finish by fri, and then go over the monday before....so theres a chance that Wallace will be there kilt and all....but i'm not promising anything.
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Post by Lavinia on Nov 30, 2006 18:59:13 GMT -5
Yule means family. Family means food. Food Means Lavinia must cook!
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Post by Atrus Rand on Dec 1, 2006 23:49:55 GMT -5
Oh, the suspense.
I never get tired of playing that role.
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Post by Traiz Antilake on Dec 3, 2006 15:08:20 GMT -5
The first thought to enter Antilake's mind was intruder. He readied his dagger and stepped through the door. He was spent and he new it so unless the trespasser was realy stupid or not there he was in trouble. Still a smile creeped across his face he loved his life and the prices he paid to live it. He had just returned from paying some of those prices the Tree beast and orcs had almost won but none the less the town prevailed.
He almost instantly noticed the letter folded neatly on the entrance table he also noticed his traps were untouched fearing more bad tiding or a trap unto itself he picked up and unfolded the letter.
It read: The wrongs have been righted the lost has been found and I will return.
-A
Traiz's smile became a full toothed grin.
"This will be a good moon after all....."
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