* 
Welcome Guest. Please login or register.
Did you miss your activation email?


*
gfxgfx Home Forum Help Search Calendar Login Register   gfxgfx
gfx gfx
gfx
Embed Maximize


Newbies, read these!

Character Creation
FAQs
Restrictions

Main Site
Portraits
Rules
Story Creation
Racial Crossbreeding
Magic

Contact
Tips and Tricks
IRC Chat
Measures Converter
Elven Aging Calculator
Pages: [1] 2 3 ... 7   Go Down
Print
Author Topic: Chapter 1C: A Meeting of Ways  (Read 24639 times)
0 Members and 1 Guest are viewing this topic.
Nystacea Korlsdaughter
Hedonist
Approved Character
*
Offline Offline

Gender: Female
Posts: 278


« on: October 01, 2005, 09:28:22 AM »

Waves shush sibilantly over the pebbly beach as stormclouds gather on the northern and eastern horizon. A chill wind blows, sighing through the branches of the stand of trees just to the south and whipping the Adanian into whitecaps which roll onto the shore, scrabbling for purchase.

Three watercourses flow across the gravel from the west to empty into the ocean. The beach stretches away to the north where bare, rocky hills can just be made out rising from the shingle, their east sides a sheer drop to the sea. Gulls - mere specks on the horizon - battle the air currents to fish for their morning meal. To the east the unquiet grey Adanian stretches away, seemingly to the edge of the world.

Southward, a stand of trees clings to the edge of the land above the beach. They huddle in the shadow of the mountain called Wayt Top. To the west slopes gradually up a plain of sparsley grassed, partially bare stony earth upon which the odd shrub grows, twisted from the constant wind.

Edited by: Tomas Valentin at: 10/3/05 15:15
Logged
Hieronimus Kupfdrubus
Cleric of Grothar
New Santharian

Offline Offline

Gender: Male
Posts: 144


Human, Stratania


« Reply #1 on: October 02, 2005, 07:42:22 AM »

Hieronimus Kupfdrubus was angry with himself. Not that he wasn‘t angry anyway with the whole of the world every morning, but this time was worse. For his joints were aching more than usual. His sleeping blankets were damp from the humid and salty air coming from the sea, though at least Grothar had fulfilled his prayer for a rainless night. The fire he tried to set up to make a tea was blown out by the gusts of the upcoming storm the third time and Injèrá must be  already full in sight - if there would not be these clouds which looked like if they would release their wet load soon.  And he had hoped to see a bright sunrise over the Adanian sea, like he knew it from the times he lived near Nepris some years ago. But that water here wasn‘t drinkable anyway, bitter as it was. He poured it away and searched for the last flask of medlar apple juice he had brought along. Hopefully these Holtonians, no, Holthans he reminded  himself - always call the people in the way they want to be addressed - well, these Holthans would hopefully not brew their beer with the water of the Bitter Creek. The question was, if their senses were still whole enough to taste the difference.

And all that just because of this silly bet he had made. He could still dream of better times now in a soft warm bed in Nepris staying with his old friends, enjoying Ilbreth‘s Althz‘onn bean stew, a rarity in these lands, for the beans were coming from far away Celeste Lowlands  ! But no, all for this silly wager he had made. He always thought, that Ilbreth was a friend of him, but now he doubted it. She had teased him so long, that he finally agreed to it. To this bet. They had talked about Holt, and about the stench the pure people had to live in, day in, day out. And Ilbreth had asked him, why he wouldn‘t travel up there and bring some relief to these poor people. He could pray to his god for a steady wind to blow the stench away.... How silly he was. As if the winds form the sea were not stronger as any wind he could ask for.... he must have been drunk, for otherwise he would never had thought of bothering his god with such a request.. - Ilbreth‘s selfmade beer was just too good, it went so well with her bean stew. She probably even didn‘t know, that he was travelling up there, for he pretended to have business, that he couldn‘t stay longer with them.

So he had left Nepris and travelled north. He stayed a day in Marduran to fill up is resources, slept one night in Starmiran, but now he was already on the way again for several days, camping in the open, which didn‘t suit him at all at this time of the year. He had hoped to reach  Holt yesterday night, but the strong winds had slowed him down. So he would probably reach it today.  But the doubts which had lurked him soon after he had left  Nepris  had grown with every day, and now, not far away from Holt, he was sure, he wouldn‘t do anything. So he didn‘t rush this morning to get away and to reach his destiny. But the few trees near to the road which had promised some shelter from the wind yesterday night had not been the protection he had hoped for. So, after he had  stared out onto the sea for some time, watching the gulls for a while,  he finally packed his stuff again, shouldered his rucksack and turned to his horse Grey, caressing its head vacantly. Well, his task was to travel and see, what the people were in need for, where the temples of Grothar could give help, assistance, or even send one of their priests. Not that he thought, that Holt was important enough to attract the attention of the priests of Grothar...

„You are wiser than I am, are you?“ he talks to Grey.“ Why have you carried me up this long way to a stinking village? Where should we go now, and what will we say to Ilbreth?“

H.Kupfdrubus

Edited by: Hieronimus Kupfdrubus at: 10/2/05 11:09
Logged
Tythle Fi thea
New Santharian

Offline Offline

Posts: 378


« Reply #2 on: October 02, 2005, 07:56:22 AM »

The elf had been heading the North-westerly course for many weeks from the capital Elving. Tythle was experinceing for the first time in his life travel wearyness, the abcence of trees and proper grass, had made this part of his journey a uninteresting ride. Sighing he looked up into the sky spotting Scion gliding high on the wind thermals bilowing around bird. The wind was also picking up noticebly down where he and his mount where steadily ploding along.

Pulling up his hood Tythle tried to find some portection agains the wirling wind as he drew near to the sand. Notre bowed her proud head trying to shield her eyes as well, snorting with distaste as sand blew up her nose. The ranger had hoped to find some evidence of his fathers whereabouts by now but nothing, no clue had been found. his last hope was to travel to the either the mountain Wayt Top or to the near by town Holt.  

Edited by: Tythle Fi thea  at: 10/2/05 16:34
Logged
Ishmaelion
Ishmaelion the Philosopher
Approved Character
*
Offline Offline

Posts: 208


Human, Erpheronian


« Reply #3 on: October 02, 2005, 10:30:22 PM »

"If I ever see you again, I will not be merciful again!"
With these words, the captain of the trading-vessel Aj'Kopak ordered his shipmates to lower the small rowing boat to the sea. "The shore is not too far from here, if you get lucky, maybe the waves will kill you."

...

Ishmaelion sighed, already it had lasted a day to row towards the shoreline and he discovered that the last few strokes took far more strenght than he had expected. Me and my big mouth! Ishmaelion thought, If I hadn't shown them the capricious position of the stars in favor of the doomed Legion of Damned Presedents I would still be able to confer the truth to those willing shipsmen. Well, the captain hadn't been happy with him already when Ishmaelion had by accident kicked a crate with valueable dyes into the water. No, people skills were not spent on this captain.
Ishmaelion sighed again, there goes my easy trip, I will have to find myself a place to shelter.


After what seemed a decade, Ishmaelion shored the pebble beach and after having thrown himself on the beach, he started snoring and appeared fastly asleep.

Ishmaelion

Logged

Tythle Fi thea
New Santharian

Offline Offline

Posts: 378


« Reply #4 on: October 03, 2005, 12:45:22 AM »

When Tythle reached the long stretch of sand, he noticed a prone figure lying on the beach. Looking over the persons appearance and the small row boat that seem to have drifted a little way off shore, the elf decided to investigate. Kicking Notre into a trot, Tythle came forward, the sound of Notre's hoves muffled by the sand, until the horse hit the pebble strewn section that the man was lying on. The pebbles clacked and clinked beneith the shoed feet and then there came a final crunch as the ranger hit the ground from dimounting. Again Tythle just simply looked for a moment longer and then slowly he bent down and genily shook the prone figure.

"Sir, are you alright?" The rasping, and raged sound that came out clipped and tight as the elf used is mostly ruined voice in an attempt to wake him. Hopeing for a sign of life  he looked over, mentally checking for wounds, or any sign of struggle that he could help with, but with what the man was wearing it was hard to tell, so heavy looking was the cloth garment.

Scion wistled from above signaling that he wanted to land. Standing straight Tythle held out his arm and recived the bird as it touched down on his arm. "Well my friend, do you think he'll wake up?" The hawk whistled and twittered impaciently.

Edited by: Tythle Fi thea  at: 10/3/05 17:26
Logged
Ishmaelion
Ishmaelion the Philosopher
Approved Character
*
Offline Offline

Posts: 208


Human, Erpheronian


« Reply #5 on: October 04, 2005, 12:40:22 AM »

Who?!? Why?!? Triangles?!? interstellar acumullatives?!? Agrimantern intext?!?
Ishmaelion awoke in a instant. He stared up at his sleep-interuptor and found it to be an elf. And a hawk who amiably sat on the elf's shoulder.

Well, this should not get any more peculiar,
Ishmaelion grumbled and rose from the ground.
He tried to get his robe right, but after some embarrasing moments gave up on the effort and just tried to flatten it into its usual shape.

He turned towards the elf, trying to figure out if he was hostile or friendly; Well, those who do good, meet good I always say! Ishmaelion extended his hand in a greeting to the elf and spoke the following words:

Dear sir, my thanks goes out to you who has ondoubtly shook my spirit into a state of transparant terminology. My name is Ishmaelion, philosopher my profession, ordained by the gods. Might I inquire your name noble sir?

Ishmaelion

Logged

Hieronimus Kupfdrubus
Cleric of Grothar
New Santharian

Offline Offline

Gender: Male
Posts: 144


Human, Stratania


« Reply #6 on: October 04, 2005, 02:25:22 AM »

OOC: I‘m now assuming, that the beach itself is not visible from where the pines are and Hiero stayed over night, but that there are a few dunes (or similar) in-between, so that he could have looked at the sea without noticing you arriving at it, Ishmaelion.



Hieronimus mounted his mare, which took some time and was only successful, when he found a suitable bolder which helped him to a great deal.

„Darn,  time is already approaching sunreign and I‘m stiff as an old staff. Grey, my dear, I‘m not keen on getting to Holt too soon, hopefully darkness will cover some when we arrive, so let us have a look at the beach first. I saw a hawk there, want to see what he has found! “

Hiero directed Grey towards where he thought the beach had to be, and after a few minutes riding over sandy soil, only held by some hardy grasses, they climbed the last elevation and looked onto the vast stretch of pebbles and endlessly seeming, troubled sea. To his surprise, the beach was not empty. Two men where there in conversation, only one had obviously a horse with him, the other seemed to be without any transportation help - he couldn‘t have come with the boat, which was half in the water, half out. There was no way to get to this beach with such a small boat. Hiero stopped. He was not sure, if it would be wise to address them - two men at a lonely beach where nobody should be at all, in a remote area? He was not sure, if they had noticed him already and was about to turn around, but then his curiosity, which had brought him into trouble not just one time before, was stronger and he rode slowly down to both, greeting them, still with a peds distance:


„Greetings! Grothar may let the sun shine on your travels! May I ask what has let you to such a remote beach?“


He stared without dread at both, especially at the elf and his hawk, examining both carefully.

H.Kupfdrubus

Logged
Tythle Fi thea
New Santharian

Offline Offline

Posts: 378


« Reply #7 on: October 04, 2005, 01:45:22 AM »

As he heard the man wake, the ranger smiled into his hood at the very random questions that came forward, as the man came out of his nap on the beach. He watched the man get up and stand noteing the look of thoughtfulness cross the humans face.

Dear sir, my thanks goes out to you who has ondoubtly shook my spirit into a state of transparant terminology. My name is Ishmaelion, philosopher my profession, ordained by the gods. Might I inquire your name noble sir?

The mans words were well spoken, eliquent even and for this wandering elf, the greeting awed him somewhat. Tythle didn't know what to really say, he had never traveled in the company of a philosopher before. Priests yes, but not one as such like the man who now stood before him. Tythle took down his hood and extended his own hand. "Greetings to you as well, I am called Tythle and my humble choice of work is that of a forester." the elf shifted towards the man looking at the mans face. The voice that came forth held no mellody, only a rough sandpaper sound.

Before he could continue to speak to Ishmaelion, he heard a call down the beach, looking towards the sound Tythle saw another human man, this one looked older. The elf lifted his hand in greeting but said nothing being the wind could and most likely would carry away any verbal greeting he could have spoken with his damaged voice.

Edited by: Tythle Fi thea  at: 10/4/05 18:37
Logged
Ishmaelion
Ishmaelion the Philosopher
Approved Character
*
Offline Offline

Posts: 208


Human, Erpheronian


« Reply #8 on: October 05, 2005, 05:38:22 AM »

"Greetings to you as well, I am called Tythle and my humble choice of work is that of a forester."

Ishmaelion nodded, the elf had the look of a forester, the silent tranquility in his manners. But that voice, Ishmaelion shuddered at the thought what had caused such a wound, seeing the scar on Tythle's face.
Suddenly the elf turned around and as Ishmaelion looked in the same direction he saw the old man on top of what must have been the ugliest horse Ishmaelion had ever seen, that acounting to some. The Old man voiced his greeting:

„Greetings! Grothar may let the sun shine on your travels! May I ask what has let you to such a remote beach?“

Aha! An evenly educated man! Ishmaelion brighted up and raised his hand in greeting:

Good day to you dear sir, May it indeed be Grothar's blessing that shines upon our meeting. My name is Ishmaelion, Ishmaelion noticed the awkwardness of the elf to speak and decided to introduce his new found sleep-disruptor, and this is Tythle, an elf as you see, we just met when you so eloquently rode towards us in resemblance of the incurrent voices echoed in the everlasting periferie in line with the four elements. As the your question, I would like to keep it at a miscomunication between me and some barbarian brutes. As it is, my journeys have no direction or goal, as my purpose is to view this wonderful world in not the light of the omniscient, but in that of the nada-scient, I will let destiny guide my path and as payment I will teach people the ways of the elements and about the last days of this world...

At this last sentence Ishmaelion mumbled some unheard words to himself, but one could make the following out of it:
Tommorrow...  Now...  Blasted bouncers!...

Ishmaelion

Logged

Hieronimus Kupfdrubus
Cleric of Grothar
New Santharian

Offline Offline

Gender: Male
Posts: 144


Human, Stratania


« Reply #9 on: October 05, 2005, 06:26:22 AM »

Hieronimus sat for a while, staring at both men and pondering, if the cold this night had affected is brain.

He was now just an old man who wasn‘t used to sophisticated talks anymore, his intellect rusty for quite a time, for he preferred to listen now to the needs of the common people and avoided to stay too long at the temple, when he reported back to the temple in Carmalad, where Grothars help may be needed. But suddenly old Will Weatherman was back - to a degree at least. He shook his head slightly, pinched himself in the arm to be sure, that he was not dreaming, but the two men remained standing there and slowly he came to believe, that he had really heard that incredible speech. For a moment he considered, if this guy was making a fuss with him, but decided finally, that this had to be genuine.

He coughed and cleared his throat to win some more time and tried then to find an approbate answer, for he hadn‘t understood half of what the man had said. He tried to collect at least a  bit of the information he had got: .. my journeys have no direction or goal -right-  I want to see this wonderful world in the light of the..  did he mean non-knowing, not knowing anything, or what? ...I will let destiny guide my path...pay..end of the world - was he a follower of Seyella? Maybe a priest of the goddess - and he took money for his visions - of the end of the world? Surely an interesting guy. Most priest of Seyella he knew were women... but did he mean by „blasted bouncers“?

Hiero decided to ignore the last few words and finally answered, first nodding to the elf and then talking to the man:


„Nice to meet you, Sir Tythle, and you as well, Sir Ishmaelion! - You excuse me, if I don‘t demount, but I would have difficulties to get back on my dear Grey! Have I understood you right, and you are a priest of Seyella?“

H.Kupfdrubus

Logged
Tythle Fi thea
New Santharian

Offline Offline

Posts: 378


« Reply #10 on: October 05, 2005, 07:19:22 AM »

Tythle smiled and nodded as well, though his eyes widened a fraction at Hieronimus' question concerning Ishmaelion's profession. The elf pondered this "In one day I have met a philosopher and a  old man, although the he seems to have missunderstood what Ishmaelion said he was...I wonder should I?....No I bet Ishmaelion can clear it up." Scion twittered once more demading something witch was most likely food. "If you would excuse me for one moment, my feathered companion seems to be hungry." The ranger took his free hand and extended it towards his mount and snapped once. Notre came forward till the saddle was in the perfect position for Tythle to mount but the elf was going for the saddle bags. Searching for a moment he grabbed a piece of salted meat and handed it to his bird, who inturn started taring at it savagely.

Edited by: Tythle Fi thea  at: 10/8/05 21:36
Logged
Ishmaelion
Ishmaelion the Philosopher
Approved Character
*
Offline Offline

Posts: 208


Human, Erpheronian


« Reply #11 on: October 06, 2005, 01:13:22 AM »

Nice to meet you, Sir Tythle, and you as well, Sir Ishmaelion! - You excuse me, if I don‘t demount, but I would have difficulties to get back on my dear Grey! Have I understood you right, and you are a priest of Seyella?“

At this Ishmaelion grinned and hold up his hands towards the sky. Almost sad he spoke the following words:

Alas, the great Seyella has not granted me the right to function as a priest, as priests are often the instruments of the god's will and I am only a poor listener to wise words. The magnacarta granted to me by Seyella is my own to contemplate, but I am much honoured by your sugestion. Your name rings a bell to me somehow, but I can't place my finger on it. The great Paradigmas of this Universe still strain me in my futile efforts to be clairvoyant and comprehensive.

Ishmaelion lowered his arms and nodded at the elf who just spoke about offering some food to its beautiful bird. Just as Ishmaelion was about to ask what Tythle would give his bird, he saw the elf snap his fingers and as if in a miracle the horse walked precisely so that Tythle could get the salted meat from the saddlebags. Ah, I forgot what it is like to be near elfs, Ishmaelion thought, they are far surpassing in wisdom and lore.

Ishmaelion

Logged

Hieronimus Kupfdrubus
Cleric of Grothar
New Santharian

Offline Offline

Gender: Male
Posts: 144


Human, Stratania


« Reply #12 on: October 06, 2005, 04:13:22 AM »

OOC: I wonder from where you know my name or profession. I might wear a grey robe, but doesnÔt show necessarily, that IÔm a cleric!

Thythle seemed to be a bit lost  - or annoyed by the flood of unintelligible words coming from Ishmaelion, at least he turned around and used his bird as an excuse.
Hieronimus looked now curiously to Ishmaelion. His name is ringing a bell? He hadnÔt introduced himself yet. Will Weatherman was famous at his times, but not Hieronimus Kupfdrubus. And Ishmaelion  is not a priest of Seyella, what else then?

ãMy name rings a bell in your head? But I havenÔt introduced myself yet. And I doubt you will know it. IÔm Hieronimus Kupfdrubus, travelling for the temple of Grothar in Carmalad. No, he wonÔt tell these strangers, that he was once a cleric of Grothar!ÒBut what are you, if you are not a priest? Your speech is so ...elaborate like any of the great sages of this world. And may I ask, what you are planing next, for it gets cold here and I would like to move, but would appreciate some company.

H.Kupfdrubus

Logged
Tythle Fi thea
New Santharian

Offline Offline

Posts: 378


« Reply #13 on: October 06, 2005, 05:23:22 AM »

Tythle Looked over at the priest, "I have been traveling towards Holt, I hope to find out whether...my father is still among the living...that was the last place he traveled to that is known to me." It was indeed getting chillier now that they had stopped and had spoken for a moment.

Scion had finshed his meal with great speed as started twittering for more. "No Scion my friend you do not need more, one we get to the village there will be pleanty to eat." The elf brushed the top of the hawks head, then with a word in elfish, the bird walked down his arm to his wrist and just waited. "How about you Ishmaelion where are you headed?"

Edited by: Tythle Fi thea  at: 10/8/05 21:37
Logged
Ishmaelion
Ishmaelion the Philosopher
Approved Character
*
Offline Offline

Posts: 208


Human, Erpheronian


« Reply #14 on: October 07, 2005, 04:08:22 AM »

My name rings a bell in your head? But I haven't introduced myself yet. And I doubt you will know it. I'm Hieronimus Kupfdrubus, travelling for the temple of Grothar in Carmalad.  But what are you, if you are not a priest? Your speech is so ...elaborate like any of the great sages of this world. And may I ask, what you are planing next, for it gets cold here and I would like to move, but would appreciate some company.

Ishmaelion blinked: Your name isn't Bob Pilott?!? What? Hieronymus? I once knew a man who had that name, wait a minute, no, he was called Pete.Ishmaelion looked once more at the old man on the horse and seemed like he was trying to ban a picture of something from his mind.
As to the question of my profession, I must confess to be of the noble, but poorly substantial Philosophers creed. The wills and thrills of the gods do not yet strike me but I am burdened with a almost heavier load, that of the soul of the world. HA! I see things in a way most do not, but I am cursed with the following: I am not the most visually profound educator of mankind, I am a normal man, having no extra abbility except an oral one. My mouth.

Ishmaelion turned to the elf who spoke with his hard voice, but still there lingered a touch of nobility in his voice, one that all elfs posses.

How about you Ishmaelion where are you headed?"

Ishmaelion smiled a big friendly smile:

Well, my friends, seeing as you both are anxious to get moving, and you, dear elf have the imperative set on Holt, I would suggest we all head there, filling the lonely path of travel with friendly voices and laughter, seeing those things in the light of multiple perceptions, interchanging the view we have on this wonderful world!

He drew his cane from his pocket and set it stoicly in front of him.

Ishmaelion

Edited by: ishmaelion  at: 10/6/05 20:12
Logged

Pages: [1] 2 3 ... 7   Go Up
Print
Jump to:  

Recent Posts
[February 12, 2021, 07:16:33 AM]

[December 13, 2020, 12:16:51 AM]

[December 13, 2020, 12:16:21 AM]

[October 05, 2020, 02:58:40 PM]

[March 19, 2020, 03:47:44 AM]

[July 23, 2019, 07:02:29 PM]

[July 23, 2019, 07:02:23 PM]

[June 19, 2018, 12:49:51 PM]

[April 28, 2018, 03:44:22 AM]

[April 13, 2018, 06:36:29 AM]
Members
Total Members: 2847
Latest: DizzyKitt
Stats
Total Posts: 214561
Total Topics: 8051
Online Today: 36
Online Ever: 216
(November 30, 2006, 09:08:03 AM)
Users Online
Users: 0
Guests: 41
Total: 41

Powered by MySQL Powered by PHP Powered by SMF 1.1.21 | SMF © 2005, Simple Machines
TinyPortal v0.9.8 © Bloc
Valid XHTML 1.0! Valid CSS!
Theme based on Cerberus with Risen adjustments by Bloc and Krelia
Modified By Artimidor for The Santharian Dream
gfx
gfxgfx gfxgfx