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Author Topic: Nyermersys - {MV} Zocharras' Gate  (Read 18298 times)
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Jaylene J. Jeshanna
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Elf, Ylfferhim / Quaelhoirhim


« Reply #45 on: August 06, 2007, 01:28:50 PM »

A slender figure approached Nyermersys, the City of Death. As the figure draws closer, it becomes clear that the figure is a female elf. One striking feature would be the elf's thick mane of Uderza blue hair. The next thing one would notice would be the gloomy expression on her face. Four Quallian Sýs'neáns perch on her shoulders and her head, and four more peek out of her leather bag. Altogether, these things present a very odd appearance.
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Expecting the world to treat you fairly because you are good is like expecting the bull not to charge because you are a vegetarian.

Sondirra Moryveen
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« Reply #46 on: August 07, 2007, 05:14:51 AM »

Sondirra sat in the carriage as it made its way toward Nyermersys.  She tried to sleep, but the rough ride was too violent for her to get any real rest.  Truth be told, she was exhausted.  All she wanted was to find a nice warm bed and sleep for a day.  A steaming cup of Cha'ah would be perfect to ease her mood.  Especially like her mom would make it, with a spot of honey.

She forced herself not to think too long on her mom.  She did not want to cry again.  Even though she knew that she was doing exactly as she wanted, to explore the world and to write about it, she could not help but miss her parents back in Onved.  She loved them with all her heart.  She prayed that her leaving did not cause them any unneeded heartache, though she knew in her heart that it would have.

She could hear voices up ahead and she poked her head out the small hole in the door.  That must be Nyermersys, she gasped.  The walls were huge, and she could see men patrolling the ramparts.  The carriage came to a rumbling halt, and Sondirra could hear the driver talking with a gruff sounding man.  She pulled her head back into the carriage. 

A moment later there was a sharp knock on the carriage door, then it drew open.  A man who appreared to be some type of soldier smiled in at Sondirra.  “Welcome to Nyermersys!” pronounced the man with a flourish of one arm and a broad grin. “What be your reason for entering its walls?”

Sondirra felt herself blush at the man's warm, grin, though she did not know why.  "I'm looking for a patron.  I am a chronicler from Onved, and I wish to write the history of our world, and all that is contained therein."  She realized how dumb and childish that sounded as soon as the words left her lips, but it was too late to take them back.  She held her head high, attempting a look of pride that she did not fully feel. 
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Kelancey the Green
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« Reply #47 on: August 08, 2007, 10:23:54 AM »

  A husky and somewhat slovenly-appearing man lazily wags his short sword in front of him, listening to your words, Sondirra, through glazed eyes and apparently partially deaf ears.  "Um, eh, wot?  Wot's all this 'bout cron-ical-ling this and pat-runizing that?  Speak clearly, missus, so's I cun understan' you!  Wot're you doin' in these parts?  Uh, well, you don' look to be much trouble, do yeh?  Olroight, get on wiv ya, missus, and 'ave a fine day."  Koric returns to half-heartedly swinging his sword, now and again casting a pebble rolling down into the ditches lining the road on either side.

  The toad of a man before you, Jaylene, eyes you with an evil glint behind his menacing sneer.  Seemingly from nowhere, a stumpy, balding man draws near from behind this man and taps him on the shoulder, speaking to him from behind.  The guard does not turn around nor direct his gaze at this short, pudgy man, but whispers over his shoulder in what sounds from this distance to be a heated, but whispered, argument.  The stumpy man wears a long, flowing red robe, pointed royal blue conical hat, and mesmerizing yellow shoes which flair to a point curling up over the feet.  The stumpy man makes several hand gestures, and a couple of hushed insults are exchanged, before the stumpy man pushes a couple of grubby coins into the toad-man's palm.

  After this exchange takes place, the stumpy man's brow is drenched with sweat, and he huffs and puffs furiously, attempting to catch his breath as he speedily waddles over to you.  "A fine chance meeting, this is!  I, Fher the Nigh-Omniscient, most potent of potent wizards in Nyermersys, am greeted by such a skilled artist as yourself.  Ah, yes, I know who you are, Hjaghrin Ustaskjan of Marcogg!"

  He studies your response, knits his brow, then changes his tack.  "Uh, you are Hjaghrin, no?  No?  Well, no matter!  I have discerned your clear and distinct artistic talents at a glance, with powerful magicks which I shall not name at this juncture!  YOU, artful artist who creates great works of art, are to create a masterpiece for me!  I will patronize you to artfully direct the endeavor of edifying me in protraiture with a portrait of such artistic magnanimosity that all shall be humbled by its artistry and magnitude!  Are we clear on this point, Miss...ah, what did you say your name was, again?"
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"Luminous beings are we, not this crude matter."  --Master Yoda
Kelancey the Green
Jaylene J. Jeshanna
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« Reply #48 on: August 10, 2007, 04:38:17 PM »

Jay's Sýs'neáns all scrambled away from this stumpy man who called himself Fher. Jay listened to him with a gloomy expression on her face. Just my luck to be hired by a self-important stumpy person! she thought. Ah well... I'll probably need the extra money, I can sense that I'm gonna be penniless any time now; but I wouldn't be surprised if he decided not to pay me at all. She decided to take up the offer.

"I am most grateful to you for selecting me out of all the other talented artists you could have chosen," she said softly, with a graceful but ever so slightly mocking bow. "I will do my best to capture your likeness, though it will be hard with such a unique face... I have never seen a face that took my breath away like that." Well, I haven't lied, I really have never seen a face that took my breath away like that. "My name is Jaylene Jacinthe Jeshanna, but I am known to most as Jay. And may I inquire how much I am going to be paid for this painting?"
« Last Edit: August 10, 2007, 04:41:57 PM by Jaylene J. Jeshanna » Logged

Expecting the world to treat you fairly because you are good is like expecting the bull not to charge because you are a vegetarian.

Kelancey the Green
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« Reply #49 on: August 13, 2007, 03:13:14 AM »

  The man who is a stump makes a dramatic show of rubbing his baby-bald chin and coolly resting his elbow on his paunch.  He wrinkles his forehead and grimaces, which, on a more erudite man could look like contemplation, but on him it brings to mind a monkey or a severely constipated man.  "Ah," Fher starts, "a business woman!  Very clever.  I shall have to use spoonerism and cunning strategery in dealing with this one, I can tell.  In other words, to tell the truth, you have to tell a lie, [heh heh heh]."

  It is somewhat difficult to distinguish whether he is baffling himself with his circuitous and error-riddled rhetoric, or he simply does not know what he is saying.

  He continues: "I believe the phrase in common parlance goes, 'Don't grab an elf by the ear!'  I'm sure you'll find no one, gnome or otherwise, who is more avaricious, egregious, and asinine than yours truly.  Well, here's my final offer: What is one-half of four, thrice?  That shall be my remuneration to you, and then I'll pay you 6 copperbards for--blast, I ruined it again!  There, how could you pass up 6 copperbards for this portrait?  You are clearly stunned at such a generous offer.  There'll be plenty more work for you if this turns out well, I assure you!"
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"Luminous beings are we, not this crude matter."  --Master Yoda
Kelancey the Green
Jaylene J. Jeshanna
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« Reply #50 on: August 15, 2007, 05:50:08 PM »

When Fher named his price, Jay's eyes widened in disbelief. SIX COPPERBARDS??? She felt like screaming at this stump of a man before her. Her Sýs'neáns chattered angrily, as if they had understood the reason for their mistress' anger. Do you take me for some kind of idiot? she thought indignantly. I am stunned... at such a ridiculous payment! Never in all my days have I been offered such a low price! Then her pessimistic nature took over. But then again, what did you expect? A good sum of money from this kind of person? You'd have to be seriously deluded. Take him up on his offer... some money is better than none.

Jay struggled with herself for a few more moments before giving Fher a stiff nod of her head. "Thank you, sir, for giving me such a good offer. Who am I to refuse? I will gladly paint the greatest image of you that you've ever seen. I'm sure it will be a masterpiece." she said drily. "Where would you like to pose for your portrait? What is the background to be?"
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Expecting the world to treat you fairly because you are good is like expecting the bull not to charge because you are a vegetarian.

Drexal ben Putin
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« Reply #51 on: September 24, 2007, 02:16:43 AM »

"The cancu sheep have all run off,
the cancu sheep are gone,
Look in the valley, comb the hills,
the cancu sheep are gone,
Go pray you find them, pray they're safe,
the cancu sheep are gone,
Look at the ground boy, search the tracks,
the cancu sheep are gone,
The great bear hunts, the great bear eats,
the cancu sheep are gone.

Why have you slept, what have you done?
the cancu sheep are gone,
Now we'll be hungry, we shall starve
the cancu sheep are gone,
Your mother cries, your father shouts,
the cancu sheep are gone,
Go grab your arrows, grab your bow,
the cancu sheep are gone,
Tonight we’ll feast, on rich bear meat,
the cancu sheep are gone."


Drexal ben Putin sang at the top of his lungs as he and the little pony called Bristol traveled along the road to Nyermersys.  Drex walked along side of the pony, while Bristol pulled the cart.  The cart was not too heavy, as only personal items belonging to him and Khel were in it.  The wares that they usually would be carrying were sold, and they had yet to refurbish their stock.  That was the reason for traveling to Nyermersys.  Khel had gone on ahead to get them a place to stay and scout for some good deals.  Though he had to wonder how much she would have accomplished in such a short time.  He and Bristol had made much better time than he had dared hope.  For such a small animal, Bristol had energy to burn.  He was quite the pony, and Drex was impressed with Khel's horse sense. 

The city walls came into view, and soon the gate.  Drex approached, staring at awe at the enormity of the place.  He then drew Bristol up to a halt.  "It's okay, buddy.  We just have to talk our way past these guards.  Then we can find Khel." With that, his heart skipped a beat, and his mind raced back to that first wonderful night with her back in that tavern in the desert.  Since then, his life had not been the same.   

He had never had a time in recent years when the feelings that overwhelmed him, that made him crazy had been so staid.  She calmed him in ways he might never have imagined before.  Yet, at the same time, she fired him up, fueled a passion he did not believe could exist in one man. 

That was perhaps the biggest thing with Khel.  She made him feel like a man.  Rohanna was a childish love, from two people who were not much more than children themselves, while Drea was always so much the dominate one with him.  She was in ways the parent and him the child.  But Khel.... no, Khel was so very different.  She treated him as an equal, in business, and..... in other ways.  He felt his cheeks flush with memories of the nights they shared.  She was everything to him.  His whole life had been a journey that had to lead him to her.

Soon, he would be in her arms again, where he belonged.
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Alassiel Telrúnya
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« Reply #52 on: September 25, 2007, 03:18:43 AM »

Corporal Drake Stables came out, feeling refreshed after his rest. It was time to swap places with this other toad-like guard... what was his name again? Ah well, didn't matter. He plopped himself on a chair outside the gate, and braced himself for a long, boring wait. That's why he was surprised when the sound of singing drifted towards his ears, increasing in volume as the singer neared the gate.

A big man came into view, a small horse with a cart trotting along next to him. He was a little strange, Drake decided; anyone who would sang songs about missing conker sheep would fit that description. He winced a little at the loudness of the man's voice, but stood up and came forward.

"Greetings, and welcome to Nyermersys. What brings you here?" as he spoke, he noticed that the big man seemed slightly awestruck by the city towering behind them. It's nice to know our city can still impress people. He smiled inwardly as he waited for the stranger to reply his questions.
« Last Edit: September 25, 2007, 03:35:46 AM by Alassiel Telrúnya » Logged

Drexal ben Putin
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« Reply #53 on: September 25, 2007, 04:09:05 AM »

"Greetings, and welcome to Nyermersys. What brings you here?"

Drex was brought out of his daydreaming at the sound of the guards voice.  "Oh, uhm, I'm here to return Khel's cart and her pony, Bristol."  He shook his head, his ponytail waving in the air.  "No, that's not quite true.  I'm not really returning them, cuz we share them now, I guess.  We are partners, but really, she owns it all.  She's great about it though.  She never makes me feel like I owe her.  I do though, sometimes.  I mean, wouldn't you?"  He paused for a moment, as if awaiting a reply, which he wasn't.  It only gave him a moment to think about her a minute longer, which brought another goofy smile to his face.  "If you saw her, you'd remember her.  Short, dark eyes, sometimes purple, and long dark hair.  Cute as a button, really."

He scratched the pony behind the ear.  "You miss her, don't ya, boy?  Me too."  He glanced back to the guard.  "Uhm, I guess we are here for trade.  I have nothing now, but we hope to get some here.  That's why Khel came up on ahead.  She is the better negotiator.  She doesn't back down.  Me, I can't haggle, never could.  You say how much it is, that's what i expect to pay.  Most things should be like that.  Wouldn't it be so much simpler if you looked at something and the guy said 5 san, that you should pay 5 san?  Why should I have to offer 3 san?  At that point, don't we both know we are going to settle on 4 san?  But no, we have to argue, to see who will go to 4 first, then that person looks like the more gregarious one-- Khel taught me that word, just had to use it, sorry- then the other has to eventually go to 4 as well, but only after making it look like he battled his way there.  Can't show weakness, no sir, not in business.  Those guys are the assassins of the business world, them merchants.  Anyhow, I always just pay 5, but Khel can get it for 3.  She's great."  He grinned stupidly.

"But, I spose that none of that matters to you none.  You just wanna know where I'm going.  Well, as I don't know the city, I'm not sure.  I just know I need to find Khel.  She knows what she wants here, not me.  That's why I pull the cart.  Not that I'm dumb, mind you, cuz I'm not, just that she has the experience.  Did I mention....." 

Was it the lack of sleep from pushing so hard to get here, or the excitement of being mere hours from finding Khel, or had he simply lost his mind?  Regardless, he continued to prattle on to the guard, oblivious to just how dim witted he was sounding, and how inane his dialogue was becoming.
« Last Edit: September 25, 2007, 04:12:33 AM by Drexal ben Putin » Logged

Alassiel Telrúnya
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« Reply #54 on: September 25, 2007, 04:37:27 AM »

At Drake's question, the big man opened his mouth and bombarded the stunned Corporal with a lot of things which he couldn't quite make out. As he struggled to understand the man's babbling, he caught something about someone named Khel, who seemed to be his lover, and the rest of the speech appeared to be praise for her. The words flowed in through one of Drake's ears, and flowed out the other.

When Mr Babblemouth (for that was what Drake had decided to name him) had finished speaking, Drake realized that his jaw was slightly ajar, and that he was staring. He quickly closed his mouth and pretended that he had listened carefully and understood every single word. "Er... um... I'm assuming that you come here to find your girlfriend. I'm afraid I haven't seen her, as I've only just come on duty, but from what you say, I'm sure that... ah... if I saw her, I would remember her... I'm sure she's in Nyermersys right now, Mr Bab... I mean, Sir."

Drake paused, unsure about whether to ask for Mr Babblemouth's real name, but then decided against it; another question might cause another string of barely understandable chatter. "Well, in you go, then. Have a good stay in Nyermersys!" he waved towards the already opened gate. As he did so, he was thinking about what he'd tell his mates about this peculiar man. They'd all have a good laugh about it, he was sure. Even if he was in love, Drake was sure he would be equally strange.
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Callie Sornak
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« Reply #55 on: January 16, 2008, 08:12:20 AM »

Callie was shivering, although the sun made the day quite warm. A sickness had racked her body for several days. Her small form violently shook as a coughing fit over took her. When she removed her hand from her mouth, spots of blood could plainly be seen against her pale flesh. Her hand shaking, Callie wiped them upon the rags she called a dress. They merely blended in with the rest of the stains upon the fabric.

Squinting, she could see the gates of a large city up ahead. She knew that there must be a poor section of the town where she could just sleep in an alley or something. Perhaps she could do a couple of drawings and make a few sans.

Another coughing fit took over her body just as she reached the gates. This one was more serious, as her entire body shook. Finally, her legs couldn't hold her up anymore. She fell to the ground. The coughing wouldn't stop. Her vision became blurred and darker. She could vaguely see some guards up ahead, but before she could think or see anything else, her body slumped to the ground limply. Her breathing was stable, but sounded ragged. Her body still continued to shake, even after consciousness had left her.
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Niccoli Faust
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« Reply #56 on: January 16, 2008, 08:41:43 AM »

"Hey! Hey Arn! We've got some'ne 'urt down 'ere!" The guard rushed, as fast as the heat would allow to the prone but jittering form of the girl on the cobbles. "Every'ne stay back, just give the girl some air." He yelled back to the gate house, "Arn, we're going to need ta git this one up to the temple real quick like, send someone up thataway!" The second guard, his red hair and pale if burnt skin both soaked with sweat was already off the wall by the time runners had gotten up the street, no mean feat considering the steepness of the stairs leading to the wall and their wicked curvature. The two contrived a nearby bit of cloth that had been confistcated from some merchant trying to smuggle goods into the city  and rolled the still trembling body on to it and began to carry it up the street. As they left the gate the first guard yelled back "Tom! Take over down here!" as they moved down the street at an alarming pace. One could just hear a cry of "Turn here Arn!" over the din of the crowd.
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Kyrridhil Culná mo
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« Reply #57 on: February 26, 2008, 06:43:35 AM »

A way down the Kings Road, a haggard figure limped towards the Zocharras' Gate. His long white hair lay matter against his back, falling loosely over a satchel filled with his possesions, across his back lay a greatsword and a quiver storing a broken bow and a set of badly fletched arrows. The guards on duty at the gate made no hint at noticing him, either oblivious or ignorant.

As he drew closer, wounds could be seen against his pale flesh. The rich red blood sticking out like a sore thumb. Slowly he walked up to the gate, his arm bleeding from a deep cut; his approach drew to a close and almost reaching the guards on duty, he collapsed at their feet, his knees simply giving way beneath the weight of his glistening armour dragging him down slowly to the floor where he lay, blood pooling around him.

He was dimly aware of why the guards had not rushed to him. They apparently were tending to a small girl who seemed wracked with illness. With this thought, Kyrridhil fell into unconsciousness.

His name was Kyrridhil Culná mo, and he had arrived at Nyermersys.
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Smell that? Yeah thats you wallowing in self pity.
Deal With It

-Kyrridhil Culná mo to a Remusian guard after being told he had brittle hair.
Kyrridhil Culná Mo
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Laell
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« Reply #58 on: February 27, 2008, 02:14:05 AM »

When the trees cleared, and the road beyond Selidor Pass was obvious, Laell knew the little donkey would follow it. Exhausted from the hours of walking beside it, she had climbed aboard the flat-bottomed cart it pulled, found something to use as a pillow - as hard as it was - and dozed, letting the animal follow the clearly marked road. It wasn't the moving that alerted her, so much as the stopping.

Several rods from the gate, the animal had just simply halted, and turned its head slowly back and forth, as if trying to get a glimpse of something; disregarding the fact that, being a donkey, it could already see in front of it as well as behind. Of course, it was looking for Laell.

Slowly she sat up, rubbed her eyes and brushed her long, blood-red hair out of her face before reluctantly hopping to the ground, stretching her arms and yawning. She wasn't sure how long she'd been sleeping, but the world was certainly brighter - or maybe that was simply her eyes adjusting. While the donkey was stopped, she looked over her equipment: A large clay oven, an assortment of pots and pans, two bags of wheat, a small bag with the handles of various cooking utensils sticking out of it, a pot of flour, empty now as she hadn't found a good mill on the road like she'd hoped; her camping gear, tents and the like, and, of course, her sword. She looked at it, where it lay on the cart bed, in the sheathe, and realized that out of all the strange things, that one made the least sense. Of course, it was wise to bring a blade on the road, but...

With a mischievous grin, she lifted it by the belt strap, rummaged around until she found the belt, laced it through, and ran it around her waist, letting it hang loosely at her hip. Now, at least, the sword wasn't on the cart, although its location was no less conspicuous. She looked it over again, making sure everything was in plain sight, so the city guards could make their inspection quick and painless. Satisfied, she stepped up to stand beside the donkey, untied the lead rope from its place, and stepped out ahead, expecting the animal to follow as it always did.

She was met with a most sudden and violent disappointment, staggering backwards slightly from the animal's refusal to move, and turned around to look. Again she tried pulling, watching as the animal drew its head up and back to resist, lowering it when the pressure was released.

"Come on," she intoned sweetly, and drew again, more gently this time, trying to coax it into moving, but to no avail. Again and again she tugged and pulled at the rope, throwing her weight into it several times, but the animal simply refused to move, standing exactly where it was, its hooves not having made so much as a two nailsbreadth drag in the gravel road.

With a sigh, Laell walked up beside the animal and began to gently pet it, making tender-sounding, but pointless talk toward it; then, after several moments of that, tried to pull it again, with exactly the same results. The donkey had decided to stop, and was not changing its mind. Her cart would remain where it was - there was no way she could pull it, not with the great oven and so many of the other things on it.

In desperation, she looked to the guards at the gate, who seemed to be busy with a fallen man, and it dawned on her just how useful a cart like this, even loaded with all these odds and ends, would be in that situation - if only there were an animal that would pull it. With that in mind, she tied the lead rope again, and began to walk toward the guards, turning to see if the donkey had decided to follow, which it did not do.

They had told Laell much about Nyermersis, her most recent traveling companions. They had told her how it was a huge city, how the streets bustled, and how they worshipped Queprur, the god, or goddess, Laell couldn't immediately remember which, of death. The thought sent a shiver down her spine even still, to think of what it must be like to think so much of the dead...

They had not told her that her donkey would stand outside of the city gates and refuse to take another step; they had not mentioned that there was a large building of some apparent importance here, off to her right, or a small village off to her left just outside of the wall, with what looked like stables just visible, pressed behind the buildings as she neared the city guards.

"I hope he'll be alright," she said sympathetically to the guard as she approached. "It seems kindof strange to come here at your wit's end; anyone I've traveled with usually made sure they stayed rested and warm..." She shook her head as she knelt beside the fallen man - an elf, she noted - and reached for his throat with a pair of slender fingers. She could feel the bump and relaxing of the heartbeat, like her father had taught her so long ago during some idle moment; the elf-man was still breathing, therefore alive.

She rolled him carefully over onto his back and looked him over, gasping as she did so. "Ummm," Laell tried desperately, and began to search his body for a blade smaller than her own longsword; his primary weapon certainly wouldn't do. Alternately, she could run back to her own cart and fetch one of the many smaller blades there - but then she found it. Not exactly a weapon, but she only needed something sharp. This simple, rather silly-looking knife would do, and immediately she set to work on the sleeve of his tunic around the wounded arm, carefully yet firmly cutting away the once-green cloth, and setting everything that was discolored aside. Now, if only she had some good, solid whiskey and clean water.

Laell was nervous; a little perturbed that her donkey had so abruptly stopped, and now set even more on edge that there was a wounded man right here in front of here, and not twenty paces away a wounded girl to whom the guards were tending. To relax herself, she brushed the soft white hair from the elf's pretty face, studied it for a moment, and then, quickly remembering why she was here, quickly rose to her feet and turned toward the guard.

"He-he's hurt! Been... I think he's lost a lot of blood; they got his arm. I do have a cart, over there you could use to carry him, if you would like, except... my donkey's stopped, and won't move any further; and I can't carry it with all those things on it. But... if you and maybe... someone else, could try, maybe you could, and load him on to bring him to the clininc - or temple or..."

She looked blankly at the guard, waiting for his reply.
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On one hand, they claim that it is the result, not the effort given, that will imprint one forever in history; but on the other, is it not the form of the art, rather than the function, that defines its true beauty?
Morcaanan
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« Reply #59 on: February 29, 2008, 12:04:10 PM »

Well, wasn't life interesting today! One sick, one injured, and one stubborn donkey with its familiar...or was it the other way around?

The guards had begun binding up the elf when the donkey with the. . .the other, female visitor to the city arrived. Birm realized he was horribly distracted by all these events - he couldn't stand the sight of blood. And where was Tom?

"Hoi! Archers! Stand r-ready!" he called, ignoring the newcomer woman girl for a moment. "Someone send a message to the ser - no, he's out, Corporal Tom. We need to do a search to see what happened to this man, he couldn't have come too far!" It was only a moment later that he remembered the fellow was an elf - he could have been leagues away from the city and somehow managed to get here. And where was Tom? He was supposed to have taken over when they had run off that girl for treatment.

"You, missy" he said, pointing a shaky finger at the red-haired girl. "Get your beast and come inside the gate - you'll be wanted for questioning." As he spoke another guard smoothly stepped up to her, blade drawn. "We need to find out how this happened."

Two more guards were hastily conscripted to take the wounded elf to the hospital, post haste. With the sight of wounds gone, Birm calmed a little; he could keep his eyes off the ground where the blood was.

"Bring her along, and someone check her cart, see what's in there" he added with another thought. Injured people didn't come up to the gate and collapse everyday.
« Last Edit: February 29, 2008, 12:09:52 PM by Morcaanan » Logged

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