Adventures of Caelereth

Archives => Thalambath's Heart => Topic started by: Capher on June 06, 2005, 11:25:22 PM

Title: Capher's Journey
Post by: Capher on June 06, 2005, 11:25:22 PM
[Outside of Chykallis]

The old man awoke with a start.  He found himself in the midst of some Brisulivan bushes.  His movements were slow and clumsy as he untangled himself from the bushes.  He hurt all over the place: his body was a mass of cuts, scratches and bruises.  He could not recall where he had received them.  He sat at the side of a well-traveled road searching his body for more injuries when suddenly he heard laughter.  He looked up. A burly looking man, with forearms that bulged underneath his short sleeved russet colored tunic stared down at him beneath bushy eyebrows.  He was sitting on top of a wagon.

“Hey ol’ timer.  You had better put some clothes on.”

The old man did not even notice that he had no clothes on.  He quickly did a quick search of the ground around him and found no clothes.  He looked back up, squinting in the afternoon sun.  “Good Master, I cannot find my clothes.” The old man croaked out.  His throat was dry and parched.

The burly man got off his wagon.  The old man heard the joints squeak as it took and the was released from the big man’s weight.  Soon, the big man was looking over him.  “Well ol’timer from the looks of you, I would say that you had a run in with some thieves. What is your name?  Wait here just a moment.”

The old man waited and thought about the big man’s statement; Thieves? I do not recall being set upon by any thieves? Name? The old man thought and could not remember his name.   Soon the big man returned.  He carried what seemed like a large flour sack.  He pulled out a huge knife and cut some holes in the sack.  Then he took out a jar, opened the lid, and began spreading it over the old man’s cuts and scratches.  “This stuff is called Yahrle, it is a medicinal herb to help those cuts and scratches you have there.  I know it smells a bit like pepper.  But is smells a whole lot better than you do.  My wife makes it.  It does a very good job and quickly.  You would be amazed at how many cuts and scratches you can get working a farm. So what is your name?”

The old man shrugged his shoulders.  “I can not recall, good Master.”

“Well, never mind.  You have quite a nob on the back of your head.  You will remember in time.” He gave the old man a small tin cup of water, and then gave him the sack with a small tin of the Yahrle.  The holes he cut out fit over the old man’s head and gave him arm holes to slip his arms through.  The old man stood up.  “I thank ye, kind Master.  I have nothing to give ye, for your kindness, though.”

“Forget it.  I didn’t give you anything but some Yahrle, and an old flour sack.  There is a stream a bit farther up the road and to your left, a few  peds off of the road.  I suggest you bathe yourself, then put more of this stuff on.  The cool water will help heal and get the stink off you.”  He climbed back on to his wagon.  “Take care Ol’timer and try and stay away from thieves.  He snapped the reins to his horse and went plodding down the road.

The old man easily found the stream, bathed, put some more of that ointment on that the big man had given him on the cuts and scratches he could reach, got dressed and began his trek down the road.  He did not know where he was going or where he had come from?  He just felt or maybe the word was drawn to go forward.

OOC-this topic probably won't last more than a few posts.  It is mainly to help me get into the "swing" of things and also to get me up to where you are all are.


Edited by: Capher at: 6/6/05 15:29

Title: Re: Capher's Journey
Post by: Capher on June 08, 2005, 12:07:22 AM
The sun was setting low in the sky; its bright red orb half-hidden by the horizon.  The old man afraid of thieves stayed mostly on the main road, slowly turning into a rutted dirt path and then it was gone.  He felt a gnawing hunger and searched for something to eat.  The few berries he had found on the way had helped but he needed more food.

As the sun sank lower, the day’s heat began to cool off.   He could see in the distance farm houses aglow with soft candle light.  He thought to himself, surely I can find food there.  He moved closer to one house.  The closer he came the more he could smell food being cooked.  He crept through the grasses until they could cover him no more.  The farmer had cut several peds of grass away from his home.  

The old man heard a cow mooing in the barn.  As he crept closer, trying to stay out of the path of the light that shone through the windows, he was suddenly startled by the sound of a barking dog.  The old man turned and there the dog was running , growling, baring its fangs as it came toward him.  The old man stood there terrified.  He did not know what to do.  The dog rushed toward him.  Then the old man felt something happen to him, he changed.  He felt himself lower and watched in horror as his hands and arms grew fur, his hands turned into huge paws.  He noticed his nose growing longer and white as well with a black tip; curiously he felt no pain and after his first initial reaction, it felt natural to him to be doing this, as if he had been doing this all his life.   The big dog screeched to a halt as he now faced a white wolf instead of a frail human.

He growled, the wolf bared its teeth and growled back.  The dog attacked and soon both animals were fighting each other.  The snarling and growling brought the farmer out of his house.  He had a candle in his outstretched hand.   He peered into the darkness, he had a sharp knife in his right hand.  “Jake! Boy where are you?  What are you doing?”  Jake didn’t answer as he was in the middle of a life and death struggle with the wolf.  The farmer edged closer.

“What is it dear?” his wife asked him.”

“I am not sure, Hilda.  It sounds like Jake is fighting another dog.”

“If it’s the Hansen’s dog, Rosa is going to get a piece of my mind.  And you should get after her husband, Peter, as well.  I am going back inside.”

“Yes dear, you should do that.  Cackling old woman, he muttered under his breath as he worked his way slowly toward his barn shining the candle as far ahead of him as he could to help him see, calling his dog.   He froze in his tracks when the candle light illuminated the forms of two animals locked in a death struggle: one was his dog and the other was the largest wolf he had ever seen, but the strangest part was that this wolf was completely white and it seemed its very fur shone.  At first the farmer did not know what to do, then as he saw his beloved dog being ripped to pieces he yelled, charged the wolf, swinging his knife.

The wolf heard the yell and let go of its opponents throat and looked at the approaching human.  Jake scrambled out from underneath the wolf, but was readying himself for another attack.  The wolf wanted to attack the human, but something told him no!  So it ran back into the grasses and soon was out of sight.  Jake started going after him, but he heard his master’s voice tell him to stop.  The farmer watched the wolf disappear into the night, heard it howl, which sent cold chills up the farmers back, and then turned his attention to his dog.  Jake was bleeding from a dozen or more bites.  The farmer quickly picked up his dog and ran toward his home.  “Hilda, open the door and get some Yahrle ready!” he shouted.

The wolf ran through the grasses and deep into the woods.  It was still hungry and soon its keen scent picked up the scent of a rabbit.  The rabbit was no match for the hungry wolf and soon it became prey and food for the wolf.  After its meal the wolf found a soft, leaved den inside a thicket and lied down. Soon it was fast asleep.


Title: Ta'las' Journey
Post by: Talas Anthavin on June 08, 2005, 10:21:22 AM
Ta’las looks deep into the still brackish water of one of Baveras’ Seven Jewels, while behind him the elderly priestess speaks her incantation in a language he does not fathom.  Above him a tapestry of stars litters the desert sky, and a strong wind bends the tall silvery blades of Ar’pun.  The priestess’ voice reaches a crescendo, and Ta’las looks to see if she is all right.  He returns his gaze to the limpid pool, and jumps back and shields his face as a fountain of cobalt blue fire erupts from the pool of water.  The Shendar draws his blade as the fire coalesces into the form of a woman.

“Do not fear, warrior,” the priestess says from behind Ta’las, who looks dubiously at her.  The priestess smiles.  “This is but an image of the one who you must seek out.”

Ta’las looks back, more closely studying the figure in the fire.  The woman looks to be a couple of spans more than five fores.  She is lean and athletic-looking. Her hair is tied in a tight plait that falls down her back, and held in place with a small braided leather ribbon.  

“Who is she?”

“Talia Sturmwind,” the woman answers quietly.

He is surprised to note that, though she is dressed in the manner of a Shendar, she does not bear a physical resemblance to his tribe.  “Why is she dressed so?” Ta’las asks.

“She was taken in by the Shendar, and raised as one of us,” the priestess answers.

Ta’las looks over the sword she wields.  He has not seen such a blade before – the gold pommel has been fashioned in the shape of an angel, it's feet form the handle which rest on a large sapphire, while the wings form the pommel guard.  Strange markings that Ta’las muses must be magical writing flow down the length of the blade.  Just above the pommel, more words are written in a language he also does not recognise.

“Why must I find her?  Is she in danger?”  Ta’las could not imagine a Shendar warrior would need his help.  “What can I do for her?”

The priestess chuckles.  “Death looms over all of us, Ta’las, as it does for this woman and her companions.  You can be of some help to her, perhaps a comforting presence simply because of your similar upbringing.”  Then her gaze becomes more piercing, finally forcing Ta’las to look away.  “It is time to grapple with those inner doubts that plague your conscience.  She and her companions can be of help to you in that journey.”

Ta’las angrily sheaths his blade.  “I am already at peace with myself, mother-sister.”  He starts to walk away from the water, but his mother-sister grabs his arm.

She digs her nails into his skin.  “You presume much, Ta’las!  You have always walked away from trouble all your life and never faced what lurks in the dark of your mind.”

The Shendar warrior glares at his mother-sister, and then looks down at the ground. There is a long pause as he considers her words.  Ta’las has always hated remaining in one place for too long, and always used the excuse that his occupation as a guide has kept him from attaining enlightenment through inner reflection.  “Where do I find her?” he finally asks, quietly.

“Look into the water mirror,” she bids him, as she nods at the pool.

He looks up, and sees the figure of the burning woman has been replaced by an image of a forest city.  Though still a cobalt blue, the fountain of fire is now water.  The city sits at the center of a large natural clearing, much of which is at ground level and surrounded by huge city walls made of blue volcanic glass.  The city centres around a huge building of marble.  Above this are a series of dwellings and other buildings linked by intertwined walkways that have been boarded over to give a level surface and paved in either marble or malachite.

“It’s beautiful,” Ta’las says reverently.  “What is this place called?”

“Aer'Ylferian.  You will find the burning woman in the city of Aer'Ylferian.”


Edited by: Talas Anthavin at: 6/8/05 2:22

Title: Re: Ta'las' Journey
Post by: Capher on June 09, 2005, 12:07:22 AM
The old man awoke once more with a start.  He found himself in a thicket.  His flour sack was ripped and torn in several places.  He crawled out from under the tapestry of brambles, shook some clinging leaves from off himself and ambled out of the forest.  He quickly found the stream that he had bathed in yesterday and splashed some water over himself.  He stared at his face in the water.  The face stared back, one blue, one green eye; silvery white hair covered his head, with a touch of baldness upon his crown.  He expected wrinkles all over his face but found, to his amazement, none.  In fact his face was bare of wrinkles and he looked liked he was just a youngster.

This curiosity as well as what had happened to him the night before, preyed upon his mind as he washed himself.  What was he?  Who was he?  And why did he have this urge to move…to follow this irresistible urge to go northward.  And a feeling of someone or someone’s in danger and he could help.  Help! How? He thought.

He quickly bathed; curiously he found his tin of Yahrle that the farmer had given him.  He scratched himself and felt his hand go inside his skin, and felt it touch another skin, this one felt scaly and had many bumps upon it.  He quickly pulled his hand back out, scared and frightened at this discovery.  When he did he noticed a red sparkling jewel had fallen into the water and lay resting on the bed of the stream.  He reached down and picked it up.  It was a ruby! Where did such a gem come from? Inside of him? He thought.  He thrashed out of the water…scared out of his wits.  Not knowing whom/what he was.  He ran and ran until he became exhausted and fell upon the meadow grasses.

He lay there for how long, he did not know.  Only the sun had risen quite high in the sky.  His fears had quelled and his mind was working over time.  The only conclusion he could come up with as he considered the facts that had been thrust upon him…was that he was a Shape shifter!  A mythical being!  But all the facts pointed to that reality.  He was a shape shifter!  But what about this gem? He thought as he gazed into the center of the ruby.  He tried another experiment?  He reached his hand into the skin around his mid-section and again found another bump.  He pulled on the bump and it freely came loose.  When he pulled his hand out and looked.  He was astonished; it was a small diamond.  He was puzzled, yet kind of thrilled at the same time.

He rose up and began walking.  He continued to think, and try to figure out why he knew so much, yet something’s he could not?  He knew what a ruby was, he knew what a diamond was, he knew the names of the grasses he walked through, he could name the trees, flowers, insects, birds and every animal he saw.  He felt very familiar with his surroundings.  But he could not remember his name!  Or his purpose!  Or why he was a shape shifter?  Or why he had this urge to continue on northward.

Soon his legs became tired and he was hungry.  He could see a small cottage set in the distance.  He walked toward it.  A man and his wife were generous enough to welcome them into their home.  Before he went on his way he thanked them by giving him that sliver of a diamond he had pulled out of himself.  They gladly took it and gave him a rucksack of dark bread, a jug of ale and some hard beef jerky and several varieties of cheese.  The woman also gave him a long gray hooded cloak and some different colored spools of thread with a needle; the last items he had just seen and for reason’s he did not understand asked for them.


Title: Re: Ta'las' Journey
Post by: Talas Anthavin on June 09, 2005, 01:42:22 PM
Ta’las watches from the starboard deck of a merchant vessel known as the Blue Storm as Chylikis comes into view, and absently pats the narrow head of the Aj’nuvic standing at his side.  All around them, a fleet of fishing vessels litter the clear blue waters of the Aetryam Sea, and the distant shouts of fisherman mingled with the calls of seagulls float toward him.  Orange and purple streaks of clouds pastel the evening sky, embracing the sun as it descends toward the horizon.  From his vantagepoint, Ta’las can see the torrential flow of the yellow water of the Thaehelvil River intrude into the Aetryam Sea.

The merchant ship nears the city, whose buildings become distinguishable, and slows as it reaches the docks.  The sailors on board the Blue Storm work quickly to prepare for landing, tying up the rigging and dropping the ship’s anchor.  

“Come, Desert Rose,” he says with a warm smile at the Aj’nuvic.  The beast snorts at him, restless to stretch its legs after having spent nearly a week on board the ship.

When the gangplank is finally dropped, Ta’las departs large merchant vessel, leading his Aj’nuvic through the crowded port of Chylikis.  The damp air smells of rotten fish, and due to the mess of people working on the docks, also stinks of stale sweat.  Though he lives in the wilds of Brendolan, in particular the Ráhaz-Dáth, the Shendar has spent enough time in Bardavos and Uderza, that large crowds do not bother him.

He stops a man carrying a coil of heavy rope toward the docks.  “Good day, friend.  Can you tell me where is the nearest inn?” he asks with a smile.

The man scowls and points to his left.  “The Anchor’s that way,” he says as he grimaces at Ta’las’ mount.  “If you’ve got money, then you can try the Screaming Eagle in the merchant’s quarter.”

“Thank you, good man.” Ta’las claps the longshoreman on the shoulder and continues onward.  There is no need to spend an evening in the poorer quarter of a foreign city.  He will stand out no matter where he travels, but he knows he will be safer staying at a tavern in the wealthier merchant’s quarter.  The Shendar is not rich, but the head of his dome, and more specifically, his mother-sister, has provided him with enough money to allow him to stay at such a place.

Ta’las continues into the city, following the wider roads lined with merchant stalls, one of whom he asks for directions to the Screaming Eagle.  The man points in the direction Ta’las has been following, and within minutes the Shendar finds the tavern.  After ensuring his Aj’Nuvic is stabled, fed and groomed, he enjoys a bath, a warm meal and a soft bed, a pleasant respite from the gruel he had been eating and the hard cot that was his bed on board the Blue Storm.  

The following morning, after his ablutions which include a shave and a wash, Ta’las gathers his Aj’Nuvic and heads north, out of the city.  Before leaving Chylikis, he approaches a young soldier stationed at the gates.  “Excuse me, kind sir, would you give a traveler directions to the elven city of Aer'Ylferian?”

The soldier gives him a vapid stare and scratches his chin.  “You’re not from around here, are you?” the soldier asks slowly.  Then the soldier shrugs.  “I’ve never been to whatever-you-called it, but the elves live north of here.  Just follow the river until you come to the forest.”

“Thank you,” Ta’las offers with a smile, and then leads Desert Rose onto the road that runs parallel with the murky, yellow depths of the Thaehelvil River.  He looks at his mount when it nudges his shoulder and smiles.  “Yes, Rose, you can stretch your legs now.”  Ta’las mounts the Aj’nuvic and in minutes is speeding away from Chylikis.


Title: Re: Capher's Journey
Post by: Capher on June 10, 2005, 01:30:22 AM
The old man refreshed began his walk northward once again.  It was still warm so he carried the cloak in the rucksack that the farmer’s wife had given him.  As the sun began its journey downward and twilight fast approached.  The old man found the stream once again.  This time he set up a proper camp and soon a small fire was burning and he was thoughtfully munching on the food given him and drinking some of the ale.  He had put the small cask in the cold stream to cool it down from the heat.

In the distance he could see a forest looming.  It seemed insurmountable.  He thought, I guess I will have to go through it.  He pulled out the cloak as the weather cooled.  For reasons he did not understand he pulled out the spools of thread and needle and began to sew intricate designs into the cloak.  When he finished the first design he was startled to see it glow, for just a brief a moment and then the glow disappeared.  He assumed it was his eyes and the firelight.  He worked on the cloak until it was finished.  There were many varied designs upon the cloak.  The most notable ones were of a wolf, a tower upon a mountain, and a dragon that was so deceptively sewed within all of the designs, including some geometric, that you had to spread the cloak out and look very closely to see it.

When the old man finished the designs he sewed some inside pockets as well and then drifted off to sleep.  He was not asleep long, when he began to dream.  He dreamt of flying, of a young boy, who turned into a man…who had powers…a wizard.  The old man tossed and turned.  His dreams then changed.  He saw a battle worn knight, a young raven haired woman, with her hair intertwined and wrapped into one long piece hanging down from the back of her head.  He saw a greenish looking woman as well, slender, yet strong, with funny looking ears, a redheaded warrior woman, aloof, but carrying sorrow, so deep, deep as a well.  They seemed to be traveling somewhere…The knight was speaking to him…but he could not understand.   But he felt like they were his friends and he felt safe with them, yet he wanted to protect them as well…he did not understand.  

Then suddenly the dream turned to horror!  He was burning the raven haired girl, she was screaming and dying.  He tried to stop himself, but then they stopped him; others whom he did not know.  A sorcerer and ones with the funny ears…whom he know knew as elves.  But wait, it was not him they killed but a demon!  Something from Coor’s place of torment.  He watched detached, yet sorrowful as they pulled the burnt, dying woman out of the way.   The dream once again changed…now he saw the burnt woman, and the Red-headed one, lying on cots.  The ones whom he did not know were there also in this room…The old man cried as he watched the raven haired woman being taken care of by an elf!  In her coma, she seemed to scream out a name…Capher…Capher, where are you?  I need you.  The old man did not know who this Capher was but he dearly wished he could help her ease her pain.  He cried silently.

A wolf howled and the old man woke up.  He was sweating even though the night air was cool: The dream all but forgotten, except the vision of the burnt raven haired girl-woman.  The old man sat up and listened to the howl of the wolf.  He was not frightened by it, but it seemed to call him.  He felt something around his neck.  He felt his neck and found nothing.  He was curious as he could feel it.  He reached into his neck, and like his stomach, he went into the skin and felt a chain with a medallion upon it.  He pulled it out and looked at it.  

The medallion had what seemed to have a silver quill pen crossed over a silver broken sword embossed over a black jade background.  It was held by a strong, yet strange metal chain around his neck.  As the old man stared at it, wondering what it all meant the moon came out full and shone upon the medallion.  Suddenly the old man saw an iridescent dragon, much like the one he had sewed into his cloak, with an image of a man flickering back and forth between both images.  His mind swirled with thoughts that almost drove him crazy thinking about who he was?  

Then he felt a bump on his right ring finger he had not felt before.  He looked down and again realized he would have to reach into his human skin to find out what it was.  He pulled back the skin and though he thought he would have been surprised at what he found.  He was not.  It seemed familiar, as though it belonged there all the time, just like his necklace with the medallion.  It was a ring, with the same design as the medallion.  

Another howl broke the old man’s thoughts and he changed as if it were the most natural thing to do in the world into the white wolf and howled back in answer and then ran off leaving the campfire far behind.


Title: Re: Capher's Journey
Post by: Capher on June 11, 2005, 12:26:22 AM
The following day dawned and found the old man back at the campsite.  He quickly broke camp and threw away the old flour sack and put on the cloak.  Though the weather was already heating up, he felt cool beneath the cloak.  He began his trek toward the looming forest.  

As he walked he could actually remember the previous night’s frolics with his brother and sister wolves.  They all gave him some kind of obeisance in their own way, but soon they were playing, chasing prey and howling at the moon.  He enjoyed himself immensely.  When he asked if any of them were human?  Their response was one of puzzlement and then outrage.  An older wolf with a scar across his eye asked, “One would like to know why you would ask about our enemy?  Look at what they have done to our kind, much less to your own, old wise one.”

The old man considered the wolf’s question.  He was confused by what the old wolf had said, “My kind.”  He answered back in wolfish, “One was wondering if there were any shape shifters like me that am all?”

The wolves laughed.  “One has never heard of a human shape shifter, not a true one.  Surely you must know this, old wise one.”

The old man did not know how to answer that question so he just shrugged his shoulders, lifted his muzzle high, and howled at the moon.  Soon a chorus of howling accompanied him.   The rest of the night was uneventful.

The old man followed the path and by mid-day he stopped and ate lunch.  The trees in the forest were becoming more defined.  He could see many Eur’Oak, and several different varieties of the Birch.  The old man puzzled as to how he knew he so much but could not remember his name or his purpose?  He gnawed upon some beef jerky washing it down with some ale.  His mind kept on nagging him about the statement the old wolf had said the previous night. ‘Look at what they done to our kind, much less to your own.’  My kind? The old man thought.  At first he thought he thought he was talking about shape shifters, but they all said they never heard of a human shape shifter.  So, what was the old wolf talking about my kind?  And why did he call me ‘Old wise one’ If I am so wise, why can I not remember who I am and what my purpose is.  And more importantly, why I feel driven to go into this forest?

The old man wrestled with these questions as he continued on his way.  


Title: Re: Ta'las' Journey
Post by: Talas Anthavin on June 13, 2005, 11:52:22 AM
The Aj’nuvic carries its mount with ease, as its long legs carry it alongside a riverbed full of yealm reed and Marsh willow.  Its rider, whose face is concealed beneath a  headscarf that glints in the slanting rays of the evening sun, gazes out across lush farm fields made fertile by alluvial deposits from the Thaehelvil River.

Ta’las pats his Aj’nuvic’s shoulder.  “It is late, Desert Rose.  We must stop now.”  Though the Shendar knows his mount could continue long into the night and the following day without stopping, the ground here is uneven and there is too much risk of falling and breaking an ankle, despite the excellent night vision of the Aj’nuvic.

He laughs when Desert Rose snorts at him, but is not surprised when his mount obediently stops.  Ta’las drops to the ground and rubs the Aj’nuvic’s ears, as he unwraps his headscarf.  “Soon the time will come when your speed and strength will be needed,” Ta’las says soothingly.  He removes a brush from one of his pack and brushes his Aj’nuvic’s brown coat of fur, and sings softly as the animal begins to doze off.

When he is finished, Ta’las reaches into his pack for some food – a small piece of cooked meat that has been salted to allow it to last longer, some redberries he had harvested earlier that day, and a chewy piece of bread.  The Shendar kneels as he eats and looks southward across the lush plains south of Quallian toward where his homeland, the desert region of Truban, lies.  The air here is much more still and wet, he muses.  He can feel the humidity has almost dampened his clothes.  All around him is a sea of vegetation, and though it is nearly night, it is still warm.  It is strange here, he thinks, and then wishes he were home.

When Ta’las gazes into the river, movement all over the still water’s surface catches his eye.  He furrows his brow and approaches the marshy riverbed, keeping to a few large stones to avoid getting his feet wet.  From his vantage, he sees the movement is caused by a swarm of small beetles that float on the water's surface and every once-in-a-while use their legs to steer themselves away from water lilies or reeds in the water.  Ta’las grins as he watches the beetles, but is startled by the sudden appearance of a carris fly, which begins to make a meal of the strange little beetles.  Carris flies are familiar to Ta’las, though they do not make their appearance in his homeland until late summer or fall.

Perhaps I am not so far from home, he thinks.

Ta'las returns to his mount and finishes his meal.  He spreads out his blanket and quickly falls asleep.


Title: Re: Ta'las' Journey
Post by: Talas Anthavin on June 14, 2005, 12:12:22 PM
From atop his Aj’nuvic, Ta’las waves at a man hoeing weeds in a field of wheat as he passes a small farmhouse.  A large dog basks on a patch of bare ground that surrounds the rustic abode, and lifts its head to bark at them as they race by.  Though he is several peds away from the dog when he passes the massive dog, the Shendar notices several deep gashes in its fur.

“Quiet, Jake!” the farmer yells angrily.  When the dog stills itself, the farmer returns to his work, grumbling about the stupidity of canines.

Ta’las smiles from behind his headscarf and urges Desert Rose onward, encouraging the Aj’nuvic to run.  Farm fields stretch out to his left, all fed by the waters of the Thaehelvil, and a number of small cottages dot the land around him.  The path here is well travelled and fairly even, and Ta’las feels a sense of urgency to find the burning woman as soon as possible.  They travel inexorably northward, and as the sun reaches its azimuth, and the heat and humidity begin to close in around him, he sees the distant outline of the Quallian for the first time. His forehead drips with sweat, which is beginning to sting his eyes.

Despite his strange dress, some of the people he passes wave.  At one point, a farmer dressed in a worn tunic calls out, wondering about where he is from.  The man appears pleasant, and his cottage is well-kept.  Three young boys run about behind the cottage, yelling and playing in the tall meadow grass.  

Ta’las stops Desert Rose with a light tap of his heel, despite the Aj’nuvic’s snort of protestation.  As the Shendar approaches, he removes his headscarf so the farmer can see his face.

“Greetings, good stranger,” the Shendar says between deep breaths.  “I am Ta’las, son of An’thavin, a Shendar of the Ráhaz-Dáth.”

The farmer raises his eyebrows.  “Really?  You’ve come all the way from Truban?” he asks incredulously.  The farmer offers his hand to shake.  “Please forgive me.  I’ve never met anyone from so far south before.  Name’s Randal.”

Ta’las shakes Randal’s hand and smiles.  “There is no need to apologise.  If I am half as strange to you as this place is to me, I can understand how you feel.”  The Shendar looks behind the farmer as a woman exits their small cottage.

“Randal!  Can you draw water for –”  She stops when she notices Ta’las and the Aj’nuvic behind the Shendar.  “Oh, who is this?” she asks as she approaches and stands beside her husband.  The woman does not look afraid, but is uncertain about this stranger.

“Carrah, this is Ta’las.”  Randal then motions to his wife and adds, “Ta’las, this is my wife, Carrah.”  He looks at his wife and smiles.  “He’s from the far south – a desert rider.”

Ta’las bows to Carrah.  “It is an honor to meet the leader of your dome.  Your man has just been kind enough to stop and share words.”  He notices the strange look that passes between the couple, but thinks nothing of it.  “I must continue northward, but before I do, could I trouble you with a question?”

The farmer shrugs.  “Sure.  Ask away.”

“That forest in the distance,” Ta’las says, pointing northward.  “Is that where Aer'Ylferian can be found?”

Randal and Carrah nod together.  “Yes,” Randal starts.  “But I’ve never been there before – I don’t know where it is.”

The Shendar nods.  “Yes, I shall have to hope I do not spend much time wandering the woods.”  Ta’las wraps his headscarf around his face, again concealing all but his eyes.  “Thank you, friends Carrah and Randal.”  He then mounts his Aj’nuvic and continues onward.

Behind Randal, the three young boys charge up behind their father and leap on him, riddling him with questions.  “Who was that strange man, father? Is he going to come back?  Why was he was riding a goat?”

“Stop being so rude, and go wash up for dinner,” Carrah sternly tells her sons, and shoos them toward the door of the cottage.  She rolls her eyes and looks at her husband, who is smiling broadly.

“You have to admit he was a bit odd,” Randal says.


The woods of the Quallian become more distinct as the day progresses and finally, as evening falls, the forest appears to be within a day’s ride.  Travelling with haste, Ta’las nearly misses the abandoned camp – the burned out ashes of a campfire, a patch of bent grass, as if beneath the weight of a sleeping person, and an old flour sack.  

Ta'las brings Desert Rose to a stop, and this time the Aj’nuvic does not protest.  Once the Shendar dismounts, the Aj’nuvic strides to the nearby stream and brings to drink.  Ta’las lays out his blanket and begins to eat, when he notices the footprints in the soft mud at one edge of the camp.  The Shendar furrows his brow when he notices the human footprints quickly disappear and are replaced with those of a wolf.


Edited by: Talas Anthavin at: 7/18/05 5:05

Title: Re: Ta'las' Journey
Post by: Capher on June 15, 2005, 01:20:22 AM
The old man continued his slow, but steady pace toward the forest.  It never had occured to him to ask the people whom he had met on his journey what the forest's name may be.  he shrugged his shoulders.
 Does it really matter
?  he thought as he stared at the looming forest.  Maybe?  

The sun was still up but in the shadows of the forest, it was more like twilght.  The old man looked up at the lofty, leafy limbs of the trees.  He looked around and found a place to camp for the night, Several fore's away, but still within the shade of the outer trees.  He made a fire, ate and drank and laid back upon the soft grass.  His eyes drooped as he looked at the stars and one constellation in particular...he named it as he drifted off to sleep...Seyella.

He did not know what it was but something woke him.  He rose and listened.  The wind was blowing through the top of the trees.  He could hear small animals rustling just inside the forest.  Then he saw the predator, an owl, sweep down and grab its prey.  It then swooped up into a tree and ate it.

What amused, or confused the old man, was that it was gray colored, and it seemed not be afraid of him as it sat in its tree tearing chunks of fur and meat with its sharp beak as it ate.  Then to the surprise of the old man the owl flew down to him and landed no more than a ped from him.  It looked at him and talked.  "Capher, have you forgotten?"

The old man was frightened, confused and yet there was something...about that owl that seemed somehow familiar...He stammered, "Are...are you talking to me?" he asked feeling a bit foolish.

"Yes Capher, I am." The owl replied

"Why do you call me Capher?  Is that my name?" The old man asked.

"Your human one." The owl replied.

"My human one??" The old man asked, a bit dubiously.

"Yes Capher. You must remember.  Try! The whole world depends upon you remembering.  I can not help you.  You must do this on your own.  I must be going."  And the owl lifted its wings and took flight.

"Wait!!" The old man yelled.  "Remember what?  Please help me?" He cried.  He felt so alone and then he heard a wolf's howl and woke up.

The moon was high in the sky.  The old man shook his head. "It was all a dream." He mumbled as he listened to his brother wolf call.  But what a dream!  It felt so real and he could not remember having such a vivid dream before.  He shook his head once more, shaped into a wolf and joined his brother's and sisters.  There, among them, playing, he was happy and the dream soon became a distant memory.


Title: Re: Ta'las' Journey
Post by: Talas Anthavin on June 16, 2005, 12:36:22 PM
Ta’las wakes early the following morning.  The sun is just beginning to show itself over the crest of the small hill and dew still clings to the blades of grass.  The Shendar rubs his eyes and rises slowly, peering northward to the Quallian.  Though the trees are still indistinct, Ta’las can see the mist that wreathes the forest, giving it an ethereal, otherworldly appearance.

He removes some bread and redberries from his pack, fills a waterskin from the nearby stream, and quickly eats breakfast.  When he is finished, Ta’las looks at Desert Rose and rubs the Aj’nuvic’s short brown fur.  His mount makes quiet contented noises, and closes its eyes, obviously enjoying the Shendar’s ministrations.  “We will leave soon,” Ta’las whispers softly, and then walks to an open space in some short grass.

The Shendar closes his eyes and stretches – first forward, then to each side, and finally backward, until he nearly touches the ground behind himself.  Ta’las holds that position for a number of seconds before somersaulting backward in the air and landing on his feet again.  He then launches himself forward, unsheathing his sword as he flips high in the air, and finishes in a crouch with his sword in hand.

Ta’las swings the blade smoothly and slowly in gentle arcs that match his tumbling manoeuvres, rolling forward and from side-to-side.  As he continues, his pace quickens until his sword strokes are a blur.  The Shendar’s pulse races and he exults in the ferocity of his swordplay.  This melding of thought and action is his perceived doorway to the truth, yet as he continues he cannot see in his mind how to step through.  There is discord in his movement, and as quickly as he began, the Shendar suddenly sheathes his weapon.  

He hangs his head in failure.  The warrior’s way still eludes me, he thinks.


Desert Rose races toward the Quallian at a dizzying pace, its long powerful legs stretched to their fullest.  The Aj’nuvic churns up large divots of grass and mossy earth beneath its hooves and its keen eyes are fixed on the ground in front of it.

Before them, Ta’las sees the largest trees of the Quallian become more distinguishable.  Though he has heard of the vastness of the Sharadon Forests of Brendolan, a much larger woodland than the one before him, the Quallian is still impressive in size.  More and more trees line the Thaehelvil the further northward the rider and his mount travel, so at times he is travelling in the partial shade of an occasional stand of oak or birch.  He is awe-struck by the magnificence of the Quallian, never having been this close to a forest before.

Ta’las smiles fiercely as the wind rushes past his ears.  “It is beautiful, Desert Rose!”  He receives only a short snort in response, as his Aj’nuvic is focussed on their path before them.

He continues through the remainder of the day, ignoring the gnawing pain in his stomach.  His failure at the campsite this morning has accentuated his desire to find the burning woman and begin his search for the truth within himself.  His hale Aj’nuvic travels ceaselessly throughout the evening, and into the early hours of the morning.  

The Shendar taps his feet lightly on his mount's flank, but Desert Rose snorts back at him, unwilling to stop.  “Rose, you must stop.  I cannot see the trail before us.”  Despite that, Ta’las can still hear waters of the Thaehelvil off to his right, and on occasion glances across the moonlit waters of the river, so he knows they are still moving northward to the Quallian.

Before Ta’las can speak again, his mount slows its pace to a steady canter as another wolf howls in the distance.

“You’ve never worried about wolves before,” Ta’las says.  The Shendar peers at the trail ahead of them and finally sees something in the grass beneath the limbs of a large tree.  As he nears, he sees the remains of a campfire and a pack, and pulls on the reins.

Another wolf howls.  The Shendar dismounts from his Aj’nuvic and steps into the campsite.  It is too dark to be certain, but the campsite appears to have been recently abandoned.

"We will remain here," Ta'las says finally.  Wolves do not like fire, so he stirs of the embers to rekindle the fire, and adds a few pieces of wood to fuel it for another couple of hours.

"Stay close, Desert Rose," the Shendar says, and lays his blanket on the ground.  He grabs some more dried meat and bread, as well as his waterskin, and after a quick meal falls into a light slumber.  His Aj'nuvic kneels down next to him and also falls asleep.


Edited by: Talas Anthavin at: 7/18/05 5:07

Title: Re: Ta'las' Journey
Post by: Capher on June 18, 2005, 04:40:22 AM
The following morning the old man, after resuming his human shape, heads toward his campsite.  As he walks out of the edge of the forest he notices an animal.  The animal seemed familiar but he could not recall its name.  He was startled, yet curious why such an animal would be lying next to his camp.

As he neared the animal he then noticed a figure, lying on a blanket.  He could not see the figure clearly as the sun was barely peeking over the horizon and everything was in its early morning shadows.  The huge lofty, leafy trees of the forest also cast its own shadows making identifications harder.

The old man stood there, thinking.  He wanted to go to his camp and check out his things.  But, what if this stranger took them?  Why is this stranger in my camp?  I assume this is a man.  But what if it is a woman?  What would a woman be doing out here? And alone?

He just sat down upon the grass a few peds from them, pondering those questions...waiting for the sun to rise more so he could see more clearly.  He thought about trying to sneak into the camp, but changed his mind.  Besides, he had other things to think and worry about...that dream he had, kept on coming back.  So he sat there, chewing on a piece of long grass waiting...


Title: Re: Ta'las' Journey
Post by: Talas Anthavin on June 21, 2005, 12:27:22 PM
Ta'las wakes early, to see the sun's rays filter through the leaves of the trees.  He blinks and rubs his eyes, then rises to his feet.  "Good morning, my friend," he says to his Aj'nuvic and pats his mount who is standing quietly.

The campfire had gone out long ago, and the pack still lies on the ground.  The Shendar starts to pack up his bedroll, when he notices the old man sitting quietly in the shade, chewing on a blade of grass.

He could not believe he had not heard the old man enter the camp.  Ta'las had lived enough years on the road, and had taught himself to sleep lightly.  However, Ta'las does not feel the need to be alarmed - Desert Rose would have woken him had the old man intended him harm.

"Greetings, stranger," Ta'las says with a smile.  "Please pardon my rudeness for sleeping while you waited, but I did not hear you enter my camp."  Then, he realizes with dismay that the pack on the ground might belong to the old man.  "Or perhaps, this belongs to you," he says, and picks up the pack and holds it out to Capher.

"If so, I thank you for sharing your camp, and know that you will be welcome in my mother-sister's dome."


Title: Re: Ta'las' Journey
Post by: Capher on June 22, 2005, 02:31:22 AM
The old man listened quietly and peered at the man as he talked.  The young man in front of him did not seem to pose any danger to the old man and the young man even offered to give him his pack back, along with saying something about being welcomed in his mother-sister's dome.  The old man quickly snatched his pack away from the young man and searched through it.  Nothing was missing.

"Young man.  Are you always in the habit of sleeping in others camps without being invited?"  He asked.

As he waited for an answer he looked over they young man.  His clothes were unusual, but somehow the smile reminded him of someone.  Who is that someone?  His brain asked him.  

Suddenly, the old man's eyes glazed over and he shook violently. A sharp vision of a braided dark haired woman appeared.  She was very beautiful. she was riding an animal and talking with him.

Then suddenly the vision changed they were in a meadow near a forest and the woman was being attacked by a fiery demon. He saw her put her sword down and that seemed to protect her.

 The old man yelled..."Run! Get away, Run Talia."  

The woman ran but she dropped something in the meadow.  The old man thought it looked like a flute?

Then the vision changed again and he saw the woman, now near death, her beautiful hair had been nearly all burned off.  Her skin was charred black.  But she clung onto life.

The old man sat there clutching his pack.  Tears streaming from his eyes.

OOC Ta'las you heard the old man yell and mention Talia's name, however I will not remember what I said.


Title: Re: Ta'las' Journey
Post by: Talas Anthavin on June 23, 2005, 11:21:22 AM
Ta'las shakes his head and looks down in chagrin when Capher questions his using the camp uninvited.  "You are right to be angry.  I am not normally so forward.  It was late and though I had thought the camp abandoned, I should have continued onward."

The Shendar is about to apologize when the old man begins to shake and then yells out for Talia to run away.  Ta'las turns quickly, drawing his weapon in alarm, but he sees no one in the camp.  After a few moments, he resheaths his weapon and takes a step closer to Capher.

The tearstricken man is obviously upset.  "I am sorry, sir."  He reaches a hand toward Capher.  "Would you like to sit down over here?" he says and motions to his woollen blanket.

"I think perhaps we may be of some help to one another," Ta'las starts, seeing the man's eyes are no longer glazed over.  "You mentioned the name of someone for whom I am looking.  A woman named Talia, who I fear is in some danger, and obviously you have great concern for.  Do you know such a person?"


Title: Re: Ta'las' Journey
Post by: Capher on June 24, 2005, 01:24:22 AM
"I think perhaps we may be of some help to one another," Ta'las starts, seeing the man's eyes are no longer glazed over. "You mentioned the name of someone for whom I am looking. A woman named Talia, who I fear is in some danger, and obviously you have great concern for. Do you know such a person?"

The old man shook his head.  "Are ye daft in the head boy? I never mentioned anyone by the name of Talia.  If ye be hearing things, then I am not sure I want to be with ye."

The old man paused as he looked at the young man.  He scratched the stubble of his beard.  Keeping an eye on the young man, he rummaged around in his pack.  His food was all gone.  "I tell ye what.  Me stomach is a growl'n.  If'n you have any food I will sup with ye and we can talk about this Talia person.  Is it a deal?"


Title: Re: Ta'las' Journey
Post by: Talas Anthavin on June 25, 2005, 11:20:22 AM
Ta'las blinks, a little confused by the man's behaviour.  Why is he speaking with such an accent?  He must be addled, Ta'las thinks to himself, but he shrugs it away.

The Shendar nods and says, "I have food to share, and I would be happy to speak with you.  Perhaps we can share the road a little ways, as well, since we seem to be travelling in the same direction."

Ta'las rummages through his pack and removes some salted meat, some bread and redberries, which he passes to the man.  He also hands the man a waterskin.

"Before we go too much further, I am Ta'las, son of An'thavin.  It is a pleasure to meet you."


Title: Re: Ta'las' Journey
Post by: Capher on June 25, 2005, 11:35:22 AM
The young man shares some dried meat, bread and berries with the old man.  He talks about traveling together.  The old man took the food and began to eat hungrily.  He took the offered waterskin and drank deeply.  The food and water, helped him much. I was talking like I was an old fool. Why was I doing that? Still it did not scare him away. It would have me.  He still wants to be around me. Even travel with me.  But, what would he do if he saw me change into a wolf?  Probably kill me.  The old man thought of other things as well. He said I mentioned the name of Talia.  He used the female, 'her' expression. Is she a friend of his?  Do I know her?  If I do, how do I know her?  Too many questions.

The old man shook his head. Then the younger man introduced himself.
"Before we go too much further, I am Ta'las, son of An'thavin. It is a pleasure to meet you"

" I thank you for the food and water.  I seem to be more myself.  Forgive me for my show of emotion.  I usually do not allow them to come to the surface so readily, especlially in front of strangers.Now where did all that come from? Now I am talking as if I were a noble or something?  Is this how I usually talk?  Am I a noble?[/]

The old man looks down at his cloak with all of the designs and markings sewed into it Sewed into it by his own hand!  Though he had no idea what they meant. Or that he knew how to sew! No, not a noble, perhaps a cl

"Ta'las, son of An'thavin.  Pleased to meet you as well.  It seems we got off on the wrong foot, sort of, between you and I.  Of course in these times, it is always prudent to be cautious of strangers" The old man replied, surprised but pleased at his speech.  "I wish I could tell you my name and parentage, but alas, I was robbed and left for dead outside of Chykallis and I can not seem to remember who I am.  But I am sure it will come back to me in time.  As long as we are heading in the same direction I would be pleased to have you along.  You seem to be a decent sort of man and maybe we can explore the possibility that we know of this woman, Talia, of whom you speak of."

The old man looks at the young man's mount towering above him..  "That is an unusual, but somehow familiar animal you are riding.  What is it? And what is its name?  And speaking of strange...or should I say out of the ordinary, at least from what I have seen; your own appearance and clothing seem out of place.  Where are you from?"  


Edited by: Capher at: 6/25/05 3:40

Title: Re: Ta'las' Journey
Post by: Talas Anthavin on June 26, 2005, 12:44:22 PM
"I thank you for the food and water. I seem to be more myself. Forgive me for my show of emotion. I usually do not allow them to come to the surface so readily, especially in front of strangers."

Ta'las nods and smiles at the man.  "That is understandable in these circumstances."  He listens as the man tells him the story of his journey and the hardships he has suffered on the road since leaving Chykalis.

"I wish I could tell you my name and parentage, but alas, I was robbed and left for dead outside of Chykallis and I can not seem to remember who I am. But I am sure it will come back to me in time. As long as we are heading in the same direction I would be pleased to have you along. You seem to be a decent sort of man and maybe we can explore the possibility that we know of this woman, Talia, of whom you speak of."

"It seems you have had a difficult time.  Perhaps as we travel, we can learn more of your past and who you are.  And also your reason for travelling this way."  Ta'las rubs his chin and looks thoughtful.  "Maybe this woman, Talia, can also help."

"That is an unusual, but somehow familiar animal you are riding. What is it? And what is its name? And speaking of strange...or should I say out of the ordinary, at least from what I have seen; your own appearance and clothing seem out of place. Where are you from?"

The Shendar looks up at his mount with a warm smile on his face, and pats the Aj'nuvic on the flank.  "This is Desert Rose.  He is an Aj'nuvic and a trusted friend."  Ta'las rubs Desert Rose behind the ears and the Aj'nuvic emits a soft rumbling sound.  He looks back at the old man.  "The woman I am seeking and you have mentioned, Talia, also rides one.  We are Shendar, from the desert lands known as the Rahaz-Dath."

Then Ta'las looks away wistfully.  "I understand what you mean by strange.  For though this land is beautiful, it is not my home, and feels strange to me.  Just as I must seem strange to you."

The Shendar looks over the old man's finely embroidered cloak and cocks his head.  "You know, your manner of dress is also different from that of the people I have met in this part of the world.  It would seem to me that you are also from elsewhere."

"As we travel, we can speak more of this.  You have been travelling on foot for some time.  I wonder, if I speak kindly with Desert Rose, would you feel comfortable riding?  He is normally very stubborn, but he will listen to me."


Title: Re: Ta'las' Journey
Post by: Capher on June 27, 2005, 07:43:22 AM
The Shendar looks up at his mount with a warm smile on his face, and pats the Aj'nuvic on the flank. "This is Desert Rose. He is an Aj'nuvic and a trusted friend." Ta'las rubs Desert Rose behind the ears and the Aj'nuvic emits a soft rumbling sound. He looks back at the old man. "The woman I am seeking and you have mentioned, Talia, also rides one. We are Shendar, from the desert lands known as the Rahaz-Dath."

The old man listened carefully as he heard the young man tell him what the animal's name was and where he came from.  He tells him that the woman he seeks, Talia, also rode one.  They were Shendar's.  "I...I believe I have been in your country.  I don't know why I believe it.  But I do.  And your animal, "Desert Rose" he is a magnifcent animal.  The old man became quiet and thoughtful, How do I know?  Why does this animal and the dress and even the name Shendar seem so familiar?

Suddenly the old man's eyes glazed over once again.  He was riding a large black horse and there riding next to him was a woman, she was smiling and laughing as they talked.  Her braided dark black hair hung down the middle of her back. Other companions rode with them;  A grim looking man who wore the clothes of a knight. A red-haired woman who looked liked a warrior, she did not smile much.  Another companion was a strange looking person, the person was female, but she had green tinted skin.  They all seemed to be freinds.  The dark haired woman spoke to him, calling him by name..."Capher"  then he replied naming her...Talia.

Tnen as sudden as the vision came it left but before it did he softly whispered her name..."Talia"   He blinked and he was looking at the young man, listening to him.

Then Ta'las looks away wistfully. "I understand what you mean by strange. For though this land is beautiful, it is not my home, and feels strange to me. Just as I must seem strange to you."

the old man replied. "Ah, I can understand.  Home is always best."  Then Ta'las asked,. "
You know, your manner of dress is also different from that of the people I have met in this part of the world. It would seem to me that you are also from elsewhere."

The old man looked down at his cloak and suddenly saw clearly what Ta'las meant. He thought, How many people that you have come across wore such decorated cloaks?  Do clerics?  The old man was not sure.  "Really?" he asked, Ta'las.  "You have never seen a person wear a cloak before?"

"As we travel, we can speak more of this. You have been travelling on foot for some time. I wonder, if I speak kindly with Desert Rose, would you feel comfortable riding? He is normally very stubborn, but he will listen to me."

The old man listened to the question and looked up at Desert Rose.  "Well, if he will not mind.  I will give it a try, though it seems difficult to even mount him as he is so tall, much less ride one."  


Title: Re: Ta'las' Journey
Post by: Talas Anthavin on June 28, 2005, 10:44:22 AM
Ta'las chuckles at the man's question about wearing a cloak.  "You are correct, many people wear cloaks.  It is just that I have never seen such intricate designs."  He peers more closely at some of them and furrows his brow.  "It almost looks like magical markings, but they are much more complicated than any I have ever seen."

He shrugs and then smiles politely at the man when he expresses concern about mounting his Aj'nuvic.  "I think you will find it easier than you imagine."

The Shendar tugs on a broad leather band that runs horizontally around Desert Rose's chest, up to its back, under its tail and back to the chest.  "This is the main riding band."   He then points to a series of several smaller bands attached the the broad band, which then run over the back to the other side.  "You see these straps?  They are are fixed to one other to give you support while riding.  An experienced rider can even stand and wield a weapon."  Ta'las then points to another set of bows that hang down from the leather straps.  "Here, attached to this set of bands are several bows that you slip your feet into when mounting and riding."  

"Desert Rose can kneel for you until you get used to him.  The only thing to make sure of is that you don't touch his head.  He has bitten people, and his mouth is very strong.  Also, stay back here," he warns as he pats the middle of Desert Rose's back.  "If you get too close to his neck he will tip you off.  Finally, do not worry about directions.  I will be here to direct him, and if need be, he is smart enough to figure out where to go."

The Shendar then looks Desert Rose in the eye.  "You will be nice to this man.  He has shared his camp with us."  He watches in surprise as the Aj'nuvic looks over at Capher and sniffs quietly and then bends its front legs.  Ta'las has never seen Desert Rose so docile with a stranger.

Ta'las then smiles at the old man.  "He likes you.  Would you like to move on now?"


Title: Re: Ta'las' Journey
Post by: Capher on July 07, 2005, 12:53:22 AM
The old man was a bit startled when the desert animal looked him over, sniffed him and then kneeled down for him to get on.

He had barely heard Ta'las explanation on how to get on.  So he looked wondering at Ta'las and pointed to one of the straps.  "This strap I take a hold of and pull myself up?" he asked, a bit hesitantly.


Title: Re: Ta'las' Journey
Post by: Talas Anthavin on July 07, 2005, 09:38:22 AM
"Very good," Ta'las says as he moves the old man's hand to the correct strap, and then kneels down to place his left foot on one of the bands used to push up onto the Aj'nuvic.

"Now all you do is push yourself up with your left foot and lift your right leg over so you are sitting back here," Ta'las says and pats the large part of his Aj'nuvic's back.

Seeing the man's uncertainty, Ta'las helps direct him up onto Desert Rose.  "When he stands, keep your hands on the straps to balance yourself."  The Shendar continues to help his new companion.  "Just let me know when you feel comfortable and we can be going."


Edited by: Talas Anthavin at: 7/8/05 3:00

Title: Re: Ta'las' Journey
Post by: Capher on July 08, 2005, 04:06:22 AM
OOC Ta'las you do not know Capher's name.  He does not even know it...but is getting ideas what his name is by his visions.  I am just an old man.

The old man smiled at Ta'las. "I thank you for your expert tuteledge.  This is quite high," he says as Desert Rose raised up.  "But, I feel quite comfortable now.  We can continue.  Where are we heading anyway?  I was going to go through this forest.  But I doubt if Desert Rose could get through that tangle of roots and underbrush.  So which way should we go?" The old man asked and paused.  "Oh! I forgot you are a stranger here as well.  Let me think."

The old man paused, closed his eyes and soon he felt a pull toward the river and then northward from there.  Why he felt this pull he did not know.  But he noticed that when he was calm he could feel and hear things that he thought were impossible to do; the feel of the Caelereth's heart beat, the whisper of the trees in the forest, talking to one another

And the most amazing thing he could hear what they were saying.  Even the insects, birds and animals all around he could hear them and feel them.  In a way he felt as if he were part of all of it.  As if he were seperate, but not seperate from all of creation.  It puzzled him, yet it also made him feel...not so quite alone.

He thought about telling Ta'las what he felt but thought better of it.  He might think I am Crazy!  He spoke up.  "Why do we not follow the river northward.  We may be able to find an entrance to the forest that way."


Title: Re: Ta'las' Journey
Post by: Talas Anthavin on July 08, 2005, 12:15:22 PM
OOC:  Sorry about that Capher.  I've edited the previous post.

Ta'las frowns when he realizes that he may have miscalculated his Aj'nuvic's ability to travel through the elven wood.  He has not travelled extensively in forests, but as the old man mentioned, Desert Rose may have trouble navigating the dense understory of the woods.

He looks up at his new friend hopefully when he mentions continuing northward to find an entrance into the Quallian.  "I hope you are correct, my friend.  I had not thought that I might be forced to leave my Aj'nuvic behind to reach the elven city.  I have not been to Aer'Ylferian, nor have I been to this part of the world."  Ta'las eyes the old man and detects no duplicity in his voice or eyes, but the Shendar begins to think that the old man has remembered something about this place.  That or else he has the use of magic to aid him, Ta'las thinks.  The old man sounded quite certain that they needed to travel northward along the river to find an entrance into the forest.

"Northward sounds like a great idea to me," the Shendar says with a smile and then pats Desert Rose's flank.  "Come on, my friend, this time I will run beside you instead of on your back."

Ta'las sets off at a fast pace to keep up with his Aj'nuvic, but he is happy to be moving again and enjoys the chance to stretch his muscles.


Title: Re: Ta'las' Journey
Post by: Capher on July 09, 2005, 02:37:22 AM
OOC, No problem Ta'las. We all make mistakes.

The old man looked down at Ta'las and wondered why he was running instead of riding his own animal.  He asked, his voice a bit jarred by the animals gait, "Why do you run instead of ride?  Is there not enough room up here for both of us?  I do not want to take away from your ride.  I should be the one running, not you, after all Desert Rose is your animal."


Title: Re: Ta'las' Journey
Post by: Talas Anthavin on July 09, 2005, 11:14:22 AM
Ta'las looks up at the old man.  "You are right - there is room enough for both of us, and there is definitely need for haste to find Talia."  He pauses to catch his breath before speaking again.  

"I do not understand why, but I feel a sense of urgency around us.  However, It is good for a Shendar to spend some time with his feet on the ground," he says, his voice shaking.  "It helps one remember we all come from the earth.  I will join you after a short time so Desert Rose can carry us both."

Ta'las pauses again and grins.  "Besides, he would not forgive me if I were to slow him down too much."

The Shendar finally stops, just as mid-morning is beginning to approach, and he feels an aching in his legs from the effort of keeping up with Desert Rose.

"If you please," he gasps.  "I will ride now."  Ta'las climbs atop Desert Rose with ease and sits in front of the old man.  "Desert Rose, make haste now."  He pats the Aj'nuvic and the animal starts away again, slowly at first to avoid jostling his passengers, but quickly gains speed and races northward.


Title: Re: Ta'las' Journey
Post by: Capher on July 12, 2005, 01:15:22 AM
The old man hung on as Desert Rose gobbled up the land.  Ta'las had climbed aboard after a vigorous run and now they were heading northward along the river.  The old man looked to his left and the sparkling river flowed on down.  He liked the way Injera, Injera?  Where did that name come from?  He thought, That is the name of the orb of light in the sky, my friend.  A voice inside the old man's head told him.

The voice startled the old man and he thought it was Ta'las that had spoken to him, he shouted,  "What did you say?"


Title: Re: Ta'las' Journey
Post by: Talas Anthavin on July 12, 2005, 12:36:22 PM
Ta'las is overwhelmed by the array of plant life around him, most of which is foreign to him, and takes in the scenery with great interest.  Even at the furious pace his mount carries he and the old man at, the Shendar is able to take in most of what he sees, storing the images in his memory for a later time.  Such a beautiful place! he thinks.

The trees are closer together here, and in places are dense enough to form small stands of trees with undergrowth.  He wonders if they are close to the entrance the old man spoke of earlier.  The air is still and humid, and filled with the smell of wet grass and pine needles.

He begins reminiscing about home again, and how different life is here compared to that in the Rahaz-Dath.  Ta'las's thoughts are interrupted when he hears the old man call from behind him.  

"I am sorry, but I did not say anything."  Ta'las looks over his shoulder.  "The only other one here is Desert Rose, and I doubt an Aj'nuvic would speak," he says loud enough to be heard.  Ta'las looks forward and ponders something for a moment.  With a mischievous grin, he looks back again and continues, "unless of course, you can listen to the trees.  Now that would be a useful skill!"


Title: Re: Ta'las' Journey
Post by: Capher on July 13, 2005, 02:59:22 AM
The old man laughed. "Listen to the trees?"  Then he paused and thought, could he listen to the trees?  The soft spoken voice in his head spoke again, You can do anything you will yourself to do, Capher.  You are a part of the begininng, a part of Ava's creation, of the Tree of Life, you are a race as old as Caelereth itself.  You are a servant of Seyella, and of myself.  Let your mind go, let your heart and spirit go.  You will find yourself again.  You must or else all is lost.

The old man almost lost his balance and almost fell.  He gripped hard upon the harness as he tried to grip his own sanity.  He did not know what to do.  He was terrified, he leaned forward and hid himself in Ta'las's cloak at his back.  He screamed.  "What does it all mean?"  


Title: Re: Ta'las' Journey
Post by: Talas Anthavin on July 13, 2005, 10:03:22 AM
Ta'las feels the old man slip a little and then regain his balance.  He is about to look back and ask his companion if everything is all right, but then the old man pushes his face into Ta'las' back.  He is unsure, because Desert Rose is travelling quickly now, but the Shendar thinks he hears a muffled scream.

"Are you well, my friend?"  He tries to look over his shoulder at the old man, but his companion's face is still hidden in the folds of his cloak.

"Stop, Desert Rose," Ta'las commands and taps the Aj'nuvic's flanks sharply.  Desert Rose stops immediately.

"What is wrong, old one?" the Shendar asks in alarm, seeing the panic-stricken look on the old man's face.  Thinking that perhaps his passenger's fear resulted from the rapid pace he had set for his Aj'nuvic, Ta'las continues more gently, "did we jostle you too much?  We can slow our pace if necessary, but I fear we must find Talia as soon as possible."


Edited by: Talas Anthavin at: 7/18/05 5:14

Title: Re: Ta'las' Journey
Post by: Capher on July 14, 2005, 02:16:22 AM
The old man was startled at first when Ta'las stopped Desert Rose and asked him if maybe they were going to fast.  He mentions that they could slow down but he fears that they must find Talia.

The old man thinks, If I tell him about the voice in my head he will definately think I am crazy.  I am not too sure about my sanity either. "Yes, i guess I was not used to the speed of this animal."  He looked into Ta'las's eyes.  Their was kindness in those sparkling black orbs; they reminded him of another person's eyes; the intelligence, and the kindness that resided in them. The same dark black hair, though this person's hair was longer and the person had more feminine features.  "Talia" The old man whispered..


Title: Re: Ta'las' Journey
Post by: Talas Anthavin on July 14, 2005, 10:14:22 AM
Ta'las furrowed his brow as he gazed back at the old man.  This journey is definitely upsetting him, he thought.  I hope he will be all right.  "I will be sure to keep Desert Rose at a slower pace, but we must still go quickly.  I suggest we skip lunch."

The Shendar looks back at the old man another moment and smiles reassuringly before turning to the task at hand.  He pats Desert Rose on the back and whistles at his Aj'nuvic.  "Come, let's go."

The Aj'nuvic sets off again, this time slower than before, but still at a steady trot.  Ta'las pats Desert Rose's soft fur, and receives a disparaging snort in return, obviously put off at the interruptions to its morning run.  As the morning progresses, the trees become thicker and the path narrower.  The river is still within earshot, but the sound of rushing water is now muffled by the dense curtain of foliage on either side.


Edited by: Talas Anthavin at: 7/18/05 5:11

Title: Re: Ta'las' Journey
Post by: Capher on July 15, 2005, 01:22:22 AM
The old man sitting behind Ta'las was lulled into a sense of security as Desert Rose slowed her pace a bit and it felt very comfortable.  He soon started to doze but was awakened when he felt the pull of something he did not know grow a bit weaker. He opened his eyes and noticed that they were closer to the forest.  Ta'las seemed to have found a path and was following it.  But, something told the old man, that they were heading in the wrong direction.  He tugged on Ta'las cloak.  "Ta'las we are heading in the wrong direction.  We must head south now, along the river."

How the old man knew that he did not know except that the feeling of the pull was definately south and not north.


Title: Re: Ta'las' Journey
Post by: Talas Anthavin on July 15, 2005, 11:29:22 AM
Ta'las stops Desert Rose and looks back at the old man.  He does not appear so anxious now.  In fact, the old man has the gleam of confidence in his eyes, and the tone of his voice is very sure.

"Very good.  I apologize for taking us so far."  He heads Desert Rose south along the river.  "Please let me know when you see what it is we are looking for."


Title: Re: Ta'las' Journey
Post by: Capher on July 16, 2005, 05:58:22 AM
What were they looking for?  The old man did not know.  He only felt a pull, deep down inside of himself.  As Ta'las turned Desert Rose around and headed south the pull again became a bit stronger.  The old man tugged on Ta'las's cloak.  "Yes, this the way.  I can not describe the place where we should go, but I will know when we reach it.  Please do not ask me how.  For I do not think I could explain it.  I am not sure even I understand how.  For now I think, if you are willing to trust me, this is the way we must go.  Maybe when we reach where we are going, this Talia will be there waiting for us."

The old man's eyes seemed more clear and his mind seemed to be better than it had been in awhile.  He still wondered about that voice in his head and what it had said as they traveled along.  Maybe one day I will understand. he thought.


Title: Re: Ta'las' Journey
Post by: Talas Anthavin on July 18, 2005, 02:02:22 PM
Ta'las was uncertain about whether trust was at issue.  He was lost and the old man was definitely confident that he had turned them in the correct direction.  He had no recourse but to follow his passenger's direction, as he could not navigate the Quallian on his own.  The Shendar wonders if his mother-sister had sent him on an impossible mission, or if somehow she knew he would find the old man.

The pair travels for some time, and the trees become less thick again.  He glances back over his shoulder.  "I believe the trail we used to cross over the river is ahead of us some distance," he says.  "Did we perhaps take the wrong path?" he asks dubiously.  But that would take us away from the elven forest, Ta'las thinks.


Title: Re: Ta'las' Journey
Post by: Capher on July 19, 2005, 01:39:22 AM
"I believe the trail we used to cross over the river is ahead of us some distance," he says. "Did we perhaps take the wrong path?"   Ta'las asks.

The old man shook his head, "No, we are heading in the right direction.  Just follow the river.  I will know when we have reached the right spot."

The old man did not know, how he would know, but he just felt he would know.  Besides that the pull was becoming stronger the more they followed the river south.


Title: Re: Ta'las' Journey
Post by: Talas Anthavin on July 21, 2005, 06:19:22 AM
Ta'las nods at the old man, and continues to direct Desert Rose southward along the river.  The air here is thick with insects that live in the tall grass and reeds at the edge of the riverbank.  The Shendar fans the bugs away from his eyes and nose.

"This place is not too much further?" he asks hopefully.


Title: Re: Ta'las' Journey
Post by: Capher on July 22, 2005, 12:46:22 AM
Ta'las asks if the place they are going is much further.  The old man does not know.  He replies, "I am not sure, Ta'las.  All I know is that we are heading in the right direction."

The old man looks up into Injera and notices that it is high up in the sky.  "Ta'las maybe we should find a shady clearing and stop and eat lunch.  I am hungry, all of a sudden.  And we have been traveling quite awhile.  I am not sure about your animal, but I know that horses need rest after traveling at such speeds as we have been on Desert Rose.  Besides, she may need a drink of water.  And the river looks awfully cool and inviting."


Title: Re: Ta'las' Journey
Post by: Talas Anthavin on July 22, 2005, 12:39:22 PM
Ta'las nods and shades his eyes with his hand as he peers ahead.  "There is a clearing over there," he points to a small meadow near the river in the distance.  "There will be enough shade for us, and we can take a meal."  He smiles back at the old man and adds, "thank you for your concern for my Aj'nuvic.  Though he is quite strong and able to go much further distances, he will enjoy the break."

The Shendar continues ahead for a short time until they reach the shade of a circle of large trees and stops Desert Rose.  He quickly jumps down and holds out a hand to help the old man to the ground.


Title: Re: Ta'las' Journey
Post by: Capher on July 23, 2005, 01:55:22 AM
The old man gladly takes Ta''las's hand to be helped down from Desert Rose.  "Thank you, Ta'las."  The old man replied.  He was quite wobbly on his legs but soon got his legs under control.  "I am going to take the waterskins and fill them up at the river."  Capher said as he grabbed the water skins.  "You can make camp while I am gone."

Capher walks the short distance to the river.  He kneels down, unplugs the waterskins and begins to fill them up.  He stares at the surface of the river.  A face, a familiar one by now, shows in the rivers surface.  She has the same smile, same dark black braided hair.  Then as before the image changes and the old man jumps back in revulsion.  She has been terribly burned: most, if not all of her hair was burned off, she lay on a cot, inside a room, she was in a comatose state. Somehow the old man knew that this must be Talia.

Talia, the one that Ta'las was looking for and somehow he was being drawn to.  He also knew that he was the only one who could cure her.  How? He did not know.  He just knew that he was the only one.  He saw the room as clear as day; he could see the cot she lay on, the elven healer by her side, the smooth timbers of the ceiling and the feel of a temple.  Was he a cleric of that temple? He asked himself?

Suddenly that voice again in his spoke. "No Capher, you are not a cleric of that temple.  But that woman and others will help you on your quest."

"What quest?" the old man asked.

"To save me and ultimately the world, " came the reply.

"Who are you?"

"My name is..."  And then as suddenly as the voice came, it left.  The old man yelled again.  "Who are you?"  But he got no response.  The old man put the stopper in the first waterskin and began to fill the other one.  He thought of all that had happened.  I guess my name must be Capher. At least that is what this voice keeps on telling me.  But what is this nonsense about me saving him and the world?

Capher looked at himself in the water; a wrinkled old face stared back at him.  But his eyes, one green, one blue, were very bright and showed intelligence and...youth?  His hands were gnarled, his cloak, the one he designed himself, looked brand new though he could not reason why, after all the travel they had done.  Surely some dust and wear and tear should be shown?  He asked himself.  But he could find none.

He filled the last waterskin, plugged it and began straightned up.  It was then that he felt the pull.  This time it was extremely strong.  He could tell it was farther down the river.  Whatever it was, it felt like he was being dragged to it now.  He became excited and ran back to the camp.  "Ta'las, as soon as we eat, we must be on our way.  I feel like we should be where we should be by nightfall."


Title: Re: Ta'las' Journey
Post by: Talas Anthavin on July 23, 2005, 09:08:22 AM
Ta'las is brushing Desert Rose's soft brown fur as Capher bursts into the camp.  He notices the excitement on his companion's face.  "You seem more sure of yourself as we travel, my friend.  I think, you are finding your lost  purpose.  Perhaps even who you are."  The Shendar finishes brushing his Aj'nuvic's fur and allows his mount to drink at the river, while he quickly eats some salted meat and redberries.

In short time, they are ready to continue.  "We can speak more if you wish as we ride," Ta'las says as he prepares his Aj'nuvic for the remaining ride.  Ta'las helps his companion up onto Desert Rose, and then mounts the Aj'nuvic himself.  

"Quickly now, my friend," Ta'las says as he taps Desert Rose twice with his feet.  Happy to be moving again, the Aj'nuvic quickly gains speed, once more running southward along the riverbank.


Title: Re: Ta'las' Journey
Post by: Capher on July 26, 2005, 01:19:22 AM
Desert Rose takes off at Ta'las's urging and soon they were traveling fast. The old man; he still thinks of himself as that, though the name Capher, is becoming more familiar to him the more he thinks about, becomes much more comfortable with the gait of Desert Rose and as they ride south the pull of whatever it was became stronger.

Injera slowly slipped down the sky; as the distance also was eaten up quickly by their travels.  Capher could feel the pull very strongly now.  He then saw a clearing on the other side of the river.  The pull was overwhelming, it almost pulled the old man off of Desert Rose.  He excitedly shouted. "Over there Ta'las! See that clearing across the river?  We must go there.  Besides, it is almost dusk and we need to stop and make camp for the night and that clearing is the only one I can see.  Also it seems the river is not as wide, though I do not know how deep it is.  But, we have to try.  Please do not ask me why, we just need to get to that clearing. I...I sort of feel like we have to.  If that makes any sense?"  The old man asked.


Title: Re: Ta'las' Journey
Post by: Talas Anthavin on July 26, 2005, 05:38:22 AM
Ta'las looks ahead at the clearing the old man is urging them toward and nods in agreement.  "Yes, that should do for the night."  He does not fully understand what his companion means when he says they must reach that particular clearing, but the old man is fairly insistent.  I hope we have not delayed seeing Talia too long, he thinks, remembering the original purpose of his journey.

The Shendar jumps down off Desert Rose.  "I must walk ahead to find a place for us to cross."  He tests the depth of the water in a few places, before deciding on a point slightly downstream from the clearing where the riverbed is firm enough to support his Aj'nuvic.  

Ta'las whistles at Desert Rose, and walks ahead of his Aj'nuvic to the other side of the river.  He pats his mount fondly and leads them ahead to the clearing.  Once there, he helps the old man to the ground.

"I will set up a fire for tonight and prepare camp," he offers, sensing that the old man wishes to search for something.  "I hope you are able to find what you have been looking for."  The Shendar then turns away and begins preparing the fire and the evening meal.


Title: Re: Ta'las' Journey
Post by: Capher on July 28, 2005, 02:50:22 AM
The old man clearly notices the burnt grass. "Ta'las," he asks, "you do not notice that the grass here is burnt? It seems to have been burnt in a peculiar way.  look at how it seems to have been burning but then it was stopped by something?  And the burn marks are quite recent, do you not think so?  What do you think could have caused this?" He asked excitedly.


Title: Re: Ta'las' Journey
Post by: Talas Anthavin on July 28, 2005, 12:50:22 PM
"You are right, my friend."  He furrows his brow and kneels to look at the burn marks in the grass.  He silently berates himself for not paying notice.  A few yards beyond the perimeter of the clearing, he does not see the same burn marks.  

"Hmm.  When I have seen grassland burns around the desert, they will stretch for much greater distances, and usually will not confine themselves to such a small, concentrated area."  Ta'las pauses a moment and adds, "this was done by someone - or something.  But how they managed to keep it within this clearing is surprising."

The Shendar pulls up a few plants from around the edges of the clearing.  Something about the burned plants looks strange, but Ta'las does not know why.  The plants are brittle and marked with black scorch marks as if they had been instantaneously consumed by intense heat.  He shrugs and hands the plant to the old man.  "I am not sure what might cause such a fire, though it does not look like it was made by natural means.  Perhaps a wizard's fire or...I do not understand...why...."  The Shendar's voice trails off before he finishes voicing his thought.

"Talia," Ta'las says in a hushed voice.  He recalls the moment his mother-sister showed him the image of Talia immolated in flames.  "This could have been where she was burned!"


Title: Re: Ta'las' Journey
Post by: Capher on July 29, 2005, 01:44:22 AM
The old man watches and listens as Ta'las looks over the burnt ground.  Ta'las seems to be some sort of tracker.  He seems to be very good.  Then Ta'las goes over and picks up a plant and explains that it was burnt, not by natural means, but maybe by wizards fire. Wizards fire? the old man thought.

Suddenly that voice inside his head speaks, "Yes, Capher, Wizards fire.  You know about Wizards fire.  But that was not the fire that caused this fire was caused by something else."

"What something else?" the old man asks.

"That is something you have to discover for yourself.  It is just another piece of the puzzle to help you find yourself and ultimately help me...."  The voice trailed off.

"Come back." the old man yelled.  Then he noticed Ta'las looking at him strangely and heard him say something about Talia.  That this is the place where she was burned.

The old man asks, "How do you know that?"  Are you the one speaking in my head?  Are you a Wizard? A Shendar Wizard? One sent to confuse me.  I am just an old man, leave my head alone."  The old man stalked off.


Title: Re: Ta'las' Journey
Post by: Talas Anthavin on July 29, 2005, 12:07:22 PM
"A wizard?  Me?" Ta'las asks as he watches the old man stalk away.  He holds his hands out.  "I know nothing about magic but what I have seen during my travels," he calls after the old man.

The Shendar shrugs and turns back to setting up camp.  First he gathers up some dry wood and builds a fire in a small, circular recess in the clearing.  I wonder if someone used this place as a camp previously, he muses.  I wonder if she was here.

It makes sense, he thinks as he lights the fire.  The image his mother-sister showed him of Talia burning and the strange burn marks in the clearing do fit together.  We must get to Talia, he thinks.  Tomorrow there will be no more of this nonsense.  We must enter the Quallian and find her.

He rolls his blanket out on the ground, and removes some food from his pack.  Ta'las muches on the salted beef, and chuckles.  "A Shendar Wizard," he says as he wiggles his fingers in the air.


Title: Re: Ta'las' Journey
Post by: Capher on August 03, 2005, 12:17:22 AM
The old man went and stomped off farther away from the campsite and headed toward some woods that bordered the meadow.  He was lost in deep thought and before he knew it, Injera had set and it was now dark.  The pull he had felt that had led him to this place, somehow he had forgotten, but now that he was calm again he felt it again and it was very, very, strong and it was leading him back toward the campsite.

The old man followed the pull.  He could see Ta'las in his sleeping bag wiggling his fingers.  Suddenly the pull almost pulled him off his feet and then he saw it:  It glowed incandescent as it lay in the dewed grass.  He cautiously walked over to it.  The soft glow did not change the closer he came to it.  He knelt down beside it and peered at it.  It looked liked an ordinary flute?  

At first he just stared at it.  Then he reached down and picked it up: He staggered as vision upon vision reeled in his head. Vision's of this campsite, of a fire demon, red-haired woman, elves, several males, one female, and then the black haired woman came into view.  She fought hard against this demon, so did the others, a wizard also fought the demon.  The demon attacked with fire that was unnatural, finally the black haired woman, took her sword and rammed it into the earth, somehow the sword stayed the fire.  And then the combatants got on horses and the black haired woman got on an animal that looked liked Desert Rose and ran, but in the tumult, this flute had been lost by the black haired woman.

Suddenly as if a cement block was knocked loose from a crypt, light dawned upon the old man's feeble brain.  But it was not quite as feeble now. He knew for certain that his name was Capher and that these visions were trying to tell him somthing. And now with the finding of this simple flute he knew that it probably belonged to the one called Talia.  He jumped up with glee, holding aloft the flute.  "Ta'las, have you ever seen a flute like this before?" He asked as he rushed over to the campsite.  And then a voice out of the darkness called him by name.  The voice sounded a bit familiar, but it still brought Capher up short and he watched Ta'las pull his own sword.


Edited by: Capher at: 8/5/05 16:06

Title: Re: Ta'las' Journey
Post by: Talas Anthavin on August 03, 2005, 10:19:22 AM
Ta'las watches as the old man walks back into the camp and  veers in a different direction and picks something up out of the grass.  There is a brief moment, where the old man seems to be studying his find, which is difficult to see in the darkness, and then leaps into the air!

"Ta'las do you know what kind of flute this is"

The Shendar rises and approaches the old man.  He has not seen such happiness and awareness in his companion's eyes before. He takes the flute from the old man's hand and looks at it. "It seems to be my friend a Shendar flute. Do you think it belongs to Talia?"

Then, another voice from the darkness outside their camp calls for someone named Capher.  He puts his hand on the pommel of his sword, though he leaves it sheathed, and assumes a defensive stance - right leg slightly behind his left, weight distributed evenly on either foot.

"And do you know who this is?" he asks quietly.


Edited by: Capher at: 8/5/05 16:09