Chapter Six___________
They stayed that night in the inn, and, in celebration of Lucia's joining them, nobody drunk a single ale the whole night long at her request. The pub was filled to the brim with arguing shifters who were on a sort of bestial pilgrimage. At one point in the night, Sparrow went out to the outside balcony to get some fresh air and found herself standing next to Bastian. He gestured at the sky. "Nice night." Sparrow muttered ascent and looked up at the moon, her thoughts strangely trailing back to Link Farshot.
*Bastian*
He gave her a thoughtful sideways glance.
"Tell me about yourself." Said Bastian. "What brought you to Wanderglenn?"
Lucia bit her lip, appearing unsettled. "I'm just an elf who left Meliamne in search of a city life. I've lived in Wanderglenn ever since. Nothing interesting." Bastian was curious nonetheless. Lucia, catching this, said, "What about you?" He looked up at the stars. "I was raised in the mountains by others of my kind. I don't remember my parents. Those who looked after me knew nothing of them, or if they did, they wouldn't tell me. I left as soon as I was capable and ran into Jukenaar as I was journeying too far into the mystic hills. He helped me get out of a tight spot in a cave with three shardminds, and we formed an alliance. Juke and I travelled south. We came across a bound and gagged halfling who was tied up in spider's thread for use in a sacrificial ritual to Lolth. We set him free and he came with us. We have been caught up in many a bar fight thanks to him." Bastian chuckled. "I've had 24 years, and still I haven't found out the fate of my parents. Its quite slack, really." He had a smile on his face but his great opaline eyes were hard. "I sometimes- get angry- at those who never thought to help me find them. All those years in the caves and they didn't even tell me a hint of what they knew or who else would know. If they were dead at least I could avenge their deaths.
"They might be dead, for all I know." He finished absent mindedly.
"Well at least you didn't run away from yours." Said Lucia unexpectedly. Bastian was shocked. "You ran away from your parents?" He said incredulously. He wasn't disappointed, just surprised. Lucia looked mortified. "Just- don't tell Jukenaar." She said hastily, and disappeared inside.
Inside the tavern, Finnbar was wreaking havoc as usual. Bastian marched inside, followed the noise, saw the halfling in a growling match with a notorious looking shifter and scowled.
"FINN." His voice thundered around the hall. He looked up to the inside balcony and saw Lucia look up. He softened. "Finnbar. No." The halfling was too involved in his growling match to be bothered paying attention. Bastian sighed. "Finnnnbaaaar…it's your last warning." The halfling looked up mid-growl and growled rudely at Bastian before turning beck to the shifters, some of whom were starting to circle him hungrily.
Bastian strode right into the middle of the group, picked up Finnbar with one arm by the collar and held him up above his head. Finnbar struggled angrily. "Put-me- DOWN."
"So you can be eaten by shifters?"
Finnbar yelled furiously and cursed in goblin. "They started it! They told me to prove myself or get out of their corner." "You were in their corner?" "Not eavesdropping!" Yelled the squirming Finnbar. "Its the corner by the fire. I always sit there!" "Were you there first?" Bastian inquired nobly. "Nooo,,." Said Finnbar, sounding like a six year old child. "But I had every right to sit there too."
"Not if they were talking about something they would like to be kept secret."
"Well I didn't know that!"
Lucia suddenly appeared to have an idea.
"Well, they could have been talking about something important. In any case, something we could benefit from knowing."
Bastian raised his eyebrow at her, mouthing "Why?"
Lucia tilted her head towards Finnbar and gave Bastian a look that plainly read, 'I know what I'm doing.'
Jukenaar, who was watching from the counter, rolled his eyes.
"So what did you hear, Finnbar?" Lucia was saying kindly.
"Well!" Finnbar gushed happily, "They're planning to launch an attack on big special temple!"
Bastian grinned. "So you were eavesdropping."
Finnbar slowly realized he'd been duped.
"Yes, but- but- I found out important infor- informing- stuff, didn't I?"
Bastian chuckled. "Whatever temple they are planning to attack is their own business.
"Now. Let's get more ale." "No ale, remember?"
Beside them, Finnbar was starting to sulk.
Suddenly a voice behind them made them jump. "Exactly whose temple were they intending to attack, Fin?" It was Jukenaar and he looked worried.
"Something evil."
Bastian threw his hands up in the air. "By the shield of Bahamut, Finn, they're on our side!"
Finnbar made a grumpy face, arms crossed. "They told me to shove off."
"Well, yeah, thats what I would say also."
Finnbar just became more sulky at that.
Lucia suddenly tapped Bastian on the shoulder. He turned. "Luce?"
"Sorry to break up the conversation," She said quietly, "But there's a man over in the corner who hasn't taken his gaze off us for the past quarter hour."
As they both turned to look at him, the man stood up.
*Sparrow*
Chapter 7 _________________________
"My name is Travius." The man said.
He wore a long dust-covered cloak with a fur hood and was bedecked with many gourds for food and water. "You appear to travel far." Sparrow remarked decidedly. "That is so." Said Travius. "I am a merchant. My business is successful but recently I ran into a spot of trouble. I won't tell you about this now, but I will merely say; there is something in my possession that needs to be transported. I would appreciate a guard of sturdy adventurers and you fellows seem worthy to help me on my quest. I am willing to provide food and lodgings along the way, and my pay is high. Would you do me the honor of accompanying me on this journey?"
The four looked at each other unsurely. "The way is not long. Merely a day's journey northwest around the mountains, then northeast through the foothills and straight north through the forest to Elderhaven."
Sparrow breathed sharply before she could stop herself.
"Lucia?" Said Bastian curiously.
"Oh. I just once knew someone from Elderhaven. Nothing interesting."
This was the second time she'd guarded her past that night and Bastian's suspicions that she was keeping something from him grew.
Travius appeared not to notice.
"So? Will you help me? It is of much importance."
Jukenaar took the reigns. "It would be our pleasure. I am Jukenaar, and these are my comrades. Finnbar, Bastian, and Lucia. We are happy to serve."
Finnbar had started to scowl dazedly up at Travius, causing Bastian to frown upon him with a sort of fatherly concern.
Not seeming to witness this either, Travius gathered up his belongings.
"We leave tomorrow at dawn. Be ready."
The next morning, Sparrow woke with the sun. It was her habit, one she'd picked up by sleeping on the rooftops nightly in Wanderglenn, being exposed fully to the force of the sun whenever it arose. Today, she woke up to the strange discovery that she was in a room. Then she remembered herself, and brightened.
Sparrow was humming as she strapped herself in her armor. It was just as she was swinging her quiver and bow upon her back when she heard a knock on the door. "Come in!" She sang, finding her coin stash.
The door opened.
It was Jukenaar.
Sparrow, who had been expecting Bastian, was surprised. The fair-haired Eladrin cleared his throat. He was wearing robes of striking blue which matched perfectly with his eyes, and he carried his staff in one hand.
*Jukenaar*
"Lucia."
"Yes?"
"It seems that you have been keeping valuable information from me." He said, in Elfish.
Lucia looked as if she had been doused in icy water. She replied quickly, also in her own language; "I didn't want you to know. I thought you might contact my father-"
"Your father? What I meant by valuable information is the location of my longsword, which you so kindly stole from my room in Wanderglenn. Although if there's something else you'd like to tell me-"
Lucia gave a forced laugh. "Not at all. I have your sword. I may as well give it back now."
She handed it to him.
He smiled and said, "And my coin purse."
Appearing to fight with herself for a minute, she searched for it for a few minutes and finally found it under her mattress. She gave it to the eladrin. "I suppose you want Finnbar's lucky helmet as well?" Jukenaar nodded, and she fetched it.
Lucia returned with the dented helmet. "Wait," He said, beginning to grow suspicious, "How did you know it was Fin's lucky helmet?"
Lucia hesitated. Then she said confidently, "This helmet is sized for a halfling. It also has a large dent in it. If you really are respectable adventurers, you would replace it; if you had the gold, which you so obviously do.
"Unless, that is to say, it were a lucky helmet."
Jukenaar was nonplussed for a moment, then laughed. "You're right!"
"Its been known to happen." Said Sparrow.
He was leaving the room when a thought struck him and he suddenly frowned. "Just who is your father, Lucia?"
"Uhm, just a craftsman from Oakenheel."
*Finnbar*
Finnbar, who was listening outside the door, scowled as he heard only,
"Ellllmm, deian ei Meliamne safies lrillenn." Which, to him, made obviously no sense at all. He ran as quietly as he could back to Bastian. "They're talking in Elfish." Bastian sighed.
You shouldn't eavesdrop. I asked you to enquire whether or not she is actually from Elderhaven."
"She said something about Meliamne."
"That means Oakenheel. She is telling him the same story she told me."
"You think she's lying?"
"No." Pause.
"Or maybe-"
"Yes?" Bastian said reluctantly.
"Could be." agreed Finnbar,
"Yes," Said Bastian, patting Finnbar on the shoulder and making his knees buckle, "Could be, lad. Definitely could be."
*Jukenaar*
Jukenaar was eating a bowl of porridge with Lucia when the others came down into the tavern. "I'd thought you were still asleep." Lied Finnbar easily. "Nope." Said Lucia.
"Where's Travius?" He said. "It's well past dawn."
"The great fool is late already." Growled Finnbar.
Lucia sighed and sat back. "So?"
At that moment, Travius appeared. "So are we off, then?" he said brightly.
The four adventurers looked at each other, then one by one nodded their assent.
"Then let us begin." Said Travius, leading the way out.
Chapter 8____________________________________
Travius's cart horse was old, grey, and bore strong resemblance to a common donkey. Travius fed it some water. The cart, however, appeared to be in good shape. Bastian arrived outside to find Finnbar testing this out by jumping upon it several times. He placed the halfling gently on the ground. "NO."
Meanwhile, Jukenaar was bending down on the dusty road. He seemed to be picking something up off the ground. Upon closer investigation, he realized it was a tiara. Sparrow took it carefully from his hand, and placed it upon her head. "It's yours?" He was speaking in elven again.
"Yes." She replied, also in elven. "An old friend made it for me. The night I left the colony." She bit her lip and hoped she hadn't said too much. "It's made from a sparrow's bones." Sparrow winced as the word came from his mouth. He was too close to the truth for her liking- "Sparrow. I've heard that as an elven name. Somewhere before, some ten years past." Sparrow shut her eyes. "It's…nothing." She said in common. He suddenly clicked on something. "Sihairta." It meant Sparrow in Sylvan. Then he said it in elfish- "Siera." Finally he said the words that Sparrow had been dreading. "Cleodine Mediera." Sparrow turned white. "She was a princess of Elderhaven. Tall, dark eyebrows, blond hair." Sparrow remembered the way she had looked when she was a princess. Sparrow had the ability to change her hair color; an ability that flowed through the veins of elven royals. When she'd left Elderhaven, she's changed it from the medium length blond waves to a much shorter, raggedy brown flecked with red and violet streaks. When she had followed the eladrin back in Wanderglenn, she'd changed her hair to a straight, long flowing red, the color of a cherry. Then when she'd adopted the name Lucia, she'd chosen to keep it that way. Hopefully this way no-one would recognize her as a thief OR as a princess, but the eladrin was getting dangerously close. He was still talking. "And her eyes were a strange vivid indigo- very much like yours, in fact. I remember her, from one of my travels. I was in Elderhaven with Bastian, and we were both quite young- only about seventeen. That was ten years ago. We went to see the king because of something my sister Jemiera had found. It was a sort of royal magic instrument, for the kind immediately recognized it. The princess was sitting beside him. I remember it well." Sparrow, realizing he did not yet recognize HER as the princess, went with the flow. "I've heard of the princess also. She is rumored to be brilliantly uncontrollable." "We could use her with us." Chuckled Jukenaar. "Oh, she'd never do that."
Sparrow turned and walked away towards Bastian, fitting the crown upon her head.
*Bastian*
Bastian was thirsty. "Is there anything to drink?" He asked Travius. "Finnbar broke my flask." Travius handed him a drink. He gulped it down. The water was fresh and sweet.
Lucia suddenly appeared beside him. Something looked changed about her, but he couldn't figure out what it was. Perhaps she had done something different with her hair. He smiled at her. "Should be a long journey." She grinned. "So I've heard. I'm pleased, though. It'll be nice to see new places." Bastian smiled again at this. "A true adventurer at heart." He said strongly.
With a rattle, the cart set off.
By noon, Bastian was starting to get the feeling that something wasn't right. Lucia kept darting ahead, curious and fascinated by the wildlife and new surroundings. Finnbar was skulking along moodily, every once in a while shooting a angry glance at him; and Jukenaar was glancing frequently along at the back looking wary. Bastian cinched his eyes and rested his hand upon his greataxe. This, at least, eased his nervousness a little.
*Finnbar*
Finnbar was hungry, tired, and growing impatient. He strode up front to Bastian, with some difficulty; his short legs didn't carry their owner far. Finnbar resorted to kicking the dragonborn's shin to get his attention. "Oi! Bastian!" The dragonborn turned and faced the little creature, who only reached a third his height. "Yes?" He said huskily.
"Riiiight. Me legs are shortar thun yors. I'm thenks it's onlee faiir tha' I deesurve a break."
Whined Finnbar. Bastian sighed. "On the cart with you then. I suppose you're right."
Finnbar leaped happily on to the cart, making the horse groan. The cart slowed down a considerable amount. Finnbar opened his book.
Deer Dairy
Tooday I going on long travvel. It bad. I'm realy ex- exaus- tired and grumpy but so far my idea of keepeng up wif thees adventingrurs has ben the bestest wey of getting monee. Sumtimes I feel frendley tords them, and othur times I culd attak them.
Bastian anngers me sumtimes.
***
The landscape was changing fast…..
PART TWO *Sparrow*
Chapter 9_______________________________
It was nightfall when the group finally came upon the mountains. Deciding to tackle them the next day, the adventurers stopped to set up camp at the base of one of the grassy foothills they had been traveling on all that day. The mountains seemed to suck all the air from their lungs; Sparrow had never seen anything like them before, and the thought of having to go through them frightened her. She walked forward, trance-like, until she was close enough to rest her foot upon the edge of one. The steep outcrops of pure rock emerged sharply from the grassy plain without the slightest warning. Enchanted and breathtaking, Sparrow looked up at the huge pinnacles of ice, so far above her that she could barely see them. The vegetation stopped abruptly, as if no living thing would think to take root there. The mountains were breathtakingly high, and the easiest way through was a steep climb between two of the tallest. The two peaks only separated about a quarter of the way up, and even that was the sort of height that no-one in their right mind would look forward to climbing.
Tearing her eyes from the mountains, Sparrow turned towards the others, but to her surprise realized she had walked a large distance ahead of them and could not be seen. She suddenly became very scared. "B-Bastian?" No reply. It seemed as if the mountains behind her swallowed her very words. She tried again. "Jukenaar? Finn?"
That was when Sparrow caught herself. Who was she? A cowardly elfling far from home? She could take care of herself.
It was just as she was thinking this when she heard a scream.
*Jukenaar*
Jukenaar was digging Finnbar's tent out of his backpack when he began to sense something approaching. He turned around suspiciously in time to see three or four goblins rushing towards them; and before they could do anything one of them snatched something out of the cart. Travius screamed. "The box! They've taken it!" Bastian thundered after one of the bandits but the goblins were long gone. It had all happened so fast that none of them even had time to react. Jukenaar's eyes widened. "Who were they? What did they take?"
Lucia came running suddenly out of the bush holding her bow outstretched. She fired.
The shot went an impossibly long way, hitting with incredible accuracy. Lucia's arrow struck the goblin holding the box in the heart; but his fellows reached down and took the box from it; running sideways into the forest just as Lucia's second arrow took off. But they were such a long distance away that it didn't matter. The goblins reached shelter easily before the arrow fell.
Sunday, May 15, 2011
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
My character background PART SEVEN OF TEN
Sparrow ducked into the tavern's second story window and landed on the balcony just as the three adventurers opened the tavern door. She quickly pretended to be reading the paper.
"Lucia?"
Sparrow looked up. The outline of Bastian blocked the streaming sun and cast the table into shadow. She smiled. "Hello."
"Good morning," He said lightly. "We've discussed it between us, and I- we-think you could be great aid to us on our journey. You- you have great talent and skill. Charisma, too."
Finnbar kicked Bastian's heel. He ignored him. The eladrin, Jukenaar, studied her for a moment. "She seems worthy. You are intent on giving us your full skill as a fighter?"
"And as a friend. We are companions, but we are also comrades. Are we not?"
Bastian laughed. "She has good wisdom!" He said aloud.
"I don't, actually." Said Sparrow, but no-one heard.
"Well then." Said Bastian good-naturedly. "We have ourselves a new fighter."
And that was how one became four.
Chapter Six___________
They stayed that night in the inn, and, in celebration of Lucia's joining them, nobody drunk a single ale the whole night long at her request. The pub was filled to the brim with arguing shifters who were on a sort of bestial pilgrimage. At one point in the night, Sparrow went out to the outside balcony to get some fresh air and found herself standing next to Bastian. He gestured at the sky. "Nice night." Sparrow muttered ascent and looked up at the moon, her thoughts strangely trailing back to Link Farshot. Bastian gave her a thoughtful sideways glance.
"Tell me about yourself." He said. "What brought you to Wanderglenn?"
Sparrow bit her lip, thinking fast. "I'm just an elf who left Meliamne in search of a city life. I've lived in Wanderglenn ever since. Nothing interesting." Bastian looked curious nonetheless. Sparrow, catching this, said, "What about you?" The dragonborn looked up at the stars. "I was raised in the mountains by others of my kind. I don't remember my parents. Those who looked after me knew nothing of them, or if they did, they wouldn't tell me. I left as soon as I was capable and ran into Jukenaar as I was journeying too far into the mystic hills. He helped me get out of a tight spot in a cave with three shardminds, and we formed an alliance. Juke and I travelled south. We came across a bound and gagged halfling who was tied up in spider's thread for use in a sacrificial ritual to Lolth. We set him free and he came with us. We have been caught up in many a bar fight thanks to him." Bastian chuckled. "I've had 24 years, and still I haven't found out the fate of my parents. Its quite slack, really." He had a smile on his face but his great opaline eyes were hard. "I sometimes- get angry- at those who never thought to help me find them. All those years in the caves and they didn't even tell me a hint of what they knew or who else would know. If they were dead at least I could avenge their deaths.
"They might be dead, for all I know." He finished absent mindedly.
"Well at least you didn't run away from yours." Said Sparrow, before she could stop herself. Bastian looked quite shocked. "You ran away from your parents?" He said incredulously. He didn't sound disappointed, just surprised. Lucia looked mortified. "Just- don't tell Jukenaar." She said hastily, and disappeared inside.
Inside the tavern, Finnbar was wreaking havoc as usual. Bastian marched inside, followed the noise, saw the halfling in a growling match with a notorious looking shifter and scowled.
"FINN." His voice thundered around the hall. He looked up to the inside balcony and saw Lucia look up. He softened. "Finnbar. No." The halfling was too involved in his growling match to be bothered paying attention. Bastian sighed. "Finnnnbaaaar…it's your last warning." The halfling looked up mid-growl and growled rudely at Bastian before turning beck to the shifters, some of whom were starting to circle him hungrily.
Bastian strode right into the middle of the group, picked up Finnbar with one arm by the collar and held him up above his head. Finnbar struggled angrily. "Put-me- DOWN."
"So you can be eaten by shifters?"
Finnbar yelled furiously and cursed in goblin. "They started it! They told me to prove myself or get out of their corner." "You were in their corner?" "Not eavesdropping!" Yelled the squirming Finnbar. "Its the corner by the fire. I always sit there!" "Were you there first?" Bastian inquired nobly. "Nooo,,." Said Finnbar, sounding like a six year old child. "But I had every right to sit there too."
"Not if they were talking about something they would like to be kept secret."
"Well I didn't know that!"
Sparrow suddenly had an idea.
"Well, they could have been talking about something important. In any case, something we could benefit from knowing."
Bastian raised his eyebrow at her, mouthing "Why?"
Sparrow tilted her head towards Finnbar and gave Bastian a look that plainly read, 'I know what I'm doing.'
Jukenaar, who was watching from the counter, rolled his eyes.
"So what did you hear, Finnbar?" Sparrow was saying kindly.
"Well!" Finnbar gushed happily, "They're planning to launch an attack on big special temple!"
Bastian grinned. "So you were eavesdropping."
Finnbar slowly realized he'd been duped.
"Yes, but- but- I found out important infor- informing- stuff, didn't I?"
Bastian chuckled. "Whatever temple they are planning to attack is their own business.
"Now. Let's go get some dinner."
"Don't you mean breakfast?" Beside them, Finnbar was starting to sulk.
Suddenly a voice behind them made them jump. "Exactly whose temple were they intending to attack, Fin?" It was Jukenaar and he looked worried.
"Something evil."
Bastian threw his hands up in the air. "By the shield of Bahamut, Finn, they're on our side!"
Finnbar made a grumpy face, arms crossed. "They told me to shove off."
"Well, yeah, thats what I would say also."
Finnbar just became more sulky at that.
Sparrow suddenly tapped Bastian on the shoulder. "Luce?"
"Sorry to break up the conversation," She said quietly, "But there's a man over in the corner who hasn't taken his gaze off us for the past quarter hour."
As they both turned to look at him, the man stood up.
Chapter 7 _________________________
"My name is Travius." The man said.
He wore a long dust-covered cloak with a fur hood and was bedecked with many gourds for food and water. "You appear to travel far." Sparrow remarked decidedly. "That is so." Said Travius. "I am a merchant. My business is successful but recently I ran into a spot of trouble. I won't tell you about this now, but I will merely say; there is something in my possession that needs to be transported. I would appreciate a guard of sturdy adventurers and you fellows seem worthy to help me on my quest. I am willing to provide food and lodgings along the way, and my pay is high. Would you do me the honor of accompanying me on this journey?"
The four looked at each other unsurely. "The way is not long. Merely a day's journey northwest around the mountains, then northeast through the foothills and straight north through the forest to Elderhaven."
Sparrow breathed sharply before she could stop herself.
"Lucia?"
"Oh. I just once knew someone from Elderhaven. Nothing interesting."
This was the second time she'd guarded her past that night and Bastian's suspicions that she was keeping something from him grew.
Travius seemed not to notice.
"So? Will you help me? It is of much importance."
Jukenaar took the reigns. "It would be our pleasure. I am Jukenaar, and these are my comrades. Finnbar, Bastian, and Lucia. We are happy to serve."
Finnbar had started to scowl dazedly up at Travius.
"We leave tomorrow at dawn. Be ready."
"Lucia?"
Sparrow looked up. The outline of Bastian blocked the streaming sun and cast the table into shadow. She smiled. "Hello."
"Good morning," He said lightly. "We've discussed it between us, and I- we-think you could be great aid to us on our journey. You- you have great talent and skill. Charisma, too."
Finnbar kicked Bastian's heel. He ignored him. The eladrin, Jukenaar, studied her for a moment. "She seems worthy. You are intent on giving us your full skill as a fighter?"
"And as a friend. We are companions, but we are also comrades. Are we not?"
Bastian laughed. "She has good wisdom!" He said aloud.
"I don't, actually." Said Sparrow, but no-one heard.
"Well then." Said Bastian good-naturedly. "We have ourselves a new fighter."
And that was how one became four.
Chapter Six___________
They stayed that night in the inn, and, in celebration of Lucia's joining them, nobody drunk a single ale the whole night long at her request. The pub was filled to the brim with arguing shifters who were on a sort of bestial pilgrimage. At one point in the night, Sparrow went out to the outside balcony to get some fresh air and found herself standing next to Bastian. He gestured at the sky. "Nice night." Sparrow muttered ascent and looked up at the moon, her thoughts strangely trailing back to Link Farshot. Bastian gave her a thoughtful sideways glance.
"Tell me about yourself." He said. "What brought you to Wanderglenn?"
Sparrow bit her lip, thinking fast. "I'm just an elf who left Meliamne in search of a city life. I've lived in Wanderglenn ever since. Nothing interesting." Bastian looked curious nonetheless. Sparrow, catching this, said, "What about you?" The dragonborn looked up at the stars. "I was raised in the mountains by others of my kind. I don't remember my parents. Those who looked after me knew nothing of them, or if they did, they wouldn't tell me. I left as soon as I was capable and ran into Jukenaar as I was journeying too far into the mystic hills. He helped me get out of a tight spot in a cave with three shardminds, and we formed an alliance. Juke and I travelled south. We came across a bound and gagged halfling who was tied up in spider's thread for use in a sacrificial ritual to Lolth. We set him free and he came with us. We have been caught up in many a bar fight thanks to him." Bastian chuckled. "I've had 24 years, and still I haven't found out the fate of my parents. Its quite slack, really." He had a smile on his face but his great opaline eyes were hard. "I sometimes- get angry- at those who never thought to help me find them. All those years in the caves and they didn't even tell me a hint of what they knew or who else would know. If they were dead at least I could avenge their deaths.
"They might be dead, for all I know." He finished absent mindedly.
"Well at least you didn't run away from yours." Said Sparrow, before she could stop herself. Bastian looked quite shocked. "You ran away from your parents?" He said incredulously. He didn't sound disappointed, just surprised. Lucia looked mortified. "Just- don't tell Jukenaar." She said hastily, and disappeared inside.
Inside the tavern, Finnbar was wreaking havoc as usual. Bastian marched inside, followed the noise, saw the halfling in a growling match with a notorious looking shifter and scowled.
"FINN." His voice thundered around the hall. He looked up to the inside balcony and saw Lucia look up. He softened. "Finnbar. No." The halfling was too involved in his growling match to be bothered paying attention. Bastian sighed. "Finnnnbaaaar…it's your last warning." The halfling looked up mid-growl and growled rudely at Bastian before turning beck to the shifters, some of whom were starting to circle him hungrily.
Bastian strode right into the middle of the group, picked up Finnbar with one arm by the collar and held him up above his head. Finnbar struggled angrily. "Put-me- DOWN."
"So you can be eaten by shifters?"
Finnbar yelled furiously and cursed in goblin. "They started it! They told me to prove myself or get out of their corner." "You were in their corner?" "Not eavesdropping!" Yelled the squirming Finnbar. "Its the corner by the fire. I always sit there!" "Were you there first?" Bastian inquired nobly. "Nooo,,." Said Finnbar, sounding like a six year old child. "But I had every right to sit there too."
"Not if they were talking about something they would like to be kept secret."
"Well I didn't know that!"
Sparrow suddenly had an idea.
"Well, they could have been talking about something important. In any case, something we could benefit from knowing."
Bastian raised his eyebrow at her, mouthing "Why?"
Sparrow tilted her head towards Finnbar and gave Bastian a look that plainly read, 'I know what I'm doing.'
Jukenaar, who was watching from the counter, rolled his eyes.
"So what did you hear, Finnbar?" Sparrow was saying kindly.
"Well!" Finnbar gushed happily, "They're planning to launch an attack on big special temple!"
Bastian grinned. "So you were eavesdropping."
Finnbar slowly realized he'd been duped.
"Yes, but- but- I found out important infor- informing- stuff, didn't I?"
Bastian chuckled. "Whatever temple they are planning to attack is their own business.
"Now. Let's go get some dinner."
"Don't you mean breakfast?" Beside them, Finnbar was starting to sulk.
Suddenly a voice behind them made them jump. "Exactly whose temple were they intending to attack, Fin?" It was Jukenaar and he looked worried.
"Something evil."
Bastian threw his hands up in the air. "By the shield of Bahamut, Finn, they're on our side!"
Finnbar made a grumpy face, arms crossed. "They told me to shove off."
"Well, yeah, thats what I would say also."
Finnbar just became more sulky at that.
Sparrow suddenly tapped Bastian on the shoulder. "Luce?"
"Sorry to break up the conversation," She said quietly, "But there's a man over in the corner who hasn't taken his gaze off us for the past quarter hour."
As they both turned to look at him, the man stood up.
Chapter 7 _________________________
"My name is Travius." The man said.
He wore a long dust-covered cloak with a fur hood and was bedecked with many gourds for food and water. "You appear to travel far." Sparrow remarked decidedly. "That is so." Said Travius. "I am a merchant. My business is successful but recently I ran into a spot of trouble. I won't tell you about this now, but I will merely say; there is something in my possession that needs to be transported. I would appreciate a guard of sturdy adventurers and you fellows seem worthy to help me on my quest. I am willing to provide food and lodgings along the way, and my pay is high. Would you do me the honor of accompanying me on this journey?"
The four looked at each other unsurely. "The way is not long. Merely a day's journey northwest around the mountains, then northeast through the foothills and straight north through the forest to Elderhaven."
Sparrow breathed sharply before she could stop herself.
"Lucia?"
"Oh. I just once knew someone from Elderhaven. Nothing interesting."
This was the second time she'd guarded her past that night and Bastian's suspicions that she was keeping something from him grew.
Travius seemed not to notice.
"So? Will you help me? It is of much importance."
Jukenaar took the reigns. "It would be our pleasure. I am Jukenaar, and these are my comrades. Finnbar, Bastian, and Lucia. We are happy to serve."
Finnbar had started to scowl dazedly up at Travius.
"We leave tomorrow at dawn. Be ready."
Monday, May 9, 2011
My character background PART SIX AND A HALF OF TEN. (This one is also quite entertaining)
The next day, Sparrow was on the roof looking out when she noticed the three adventurers from the previous night approaching the tavern. She crawled down the narrow space between that building and the next to listen to their conversation. With a start, she realized they were talking about her.
"She can shoot well." Said Bastian.
"She can throw well too. And she is very capable of stealth. I saw that for myself night before last, when we were in Wanderglenn." Said Jukenaar.
"When you were drunk." The halfling snorted.
"Not as much as you, who drank twelve pints of ale with all your earnings Travius paid." Said the Eladrin. "Yes, but I didn't pass out, did I?" rebuttled Finnbar.
Bastian cut in before anything less than friendly occurred.
"As far as I seem to remember, you were asleep." He said surely.
"So were you." Finnbar pointed out.
"But I had far from drunk my fill. I decided there were more productive ways to spend my time."
Finnbar snorted. "Yeah. right. Like whhat?"
"Like following the elf, Lucia, to figure out her plans for the staff."
"Her name is Lucia? How do you know this?"
"We talked." Said Bastian shortly.
"Ohhh?"
"And she would like to join our party."
"So?"
"I think we should let her."
"WHY?"
"Because she is talented, Fin. She can shoot with incredible accuracy. And despite her cool ways, she is an interesting companion. Bright. Witty. And also, she still has your coin purse, Jukenaar."
Jukenaar sighed. "My coin purse."
"Right. We go'in?" Sulked Finnbar grumpily.
"Yesss. I need my purse."
The three approached the inn door. "You know, you shouldn't be so reluctant to find the elf, Fin." Said Bastian knowingly. "She stole your lucky helmet as well."
Finnbar growled.
"She can shoot well." Said Bastian.
"She can throw well too. And she is very capable of stealth. I saw that for myself night before last, when we were in Wanderglenn." Said Jukenaar.
"When you were drunk." The halfling snorted.
"Not as much as you, who drank twelve pints of ale with all your earnings Travius paid." Said the Eladrin. "Yes, but I didn't pass out, did I?" rebuttled Finnbar.
Bastian cut in before anything less than friendly occurred.
"As far as I seem to remember, you were asleep." He said surely.
"So were you." Finnbar pointed out.
"But I had far from drunk my fill. I decided there were more productive ways to spend my time."
Finnbar snorted. "Yeah. right. Like whhat?"
"Like following the elf, Lucia, to figure out her plans for the staff."
"Her name is Lucia? How do you know this?"
"We talked." Said Bastian shortly.
"Ohhh?"
"And she would like to join our party."
"So?"
"I think we should let her."
"WHY?"
"Because she is talented, Fin. She can shoot with incredible accuracy. And despite her cool ways, she is an interesting companion. Bright. Witty. And also, she still has your coin purse, Jukenaar."
Jukenaar sighed. "My coin purse."
"Right. We go'in?" Sulked Finnbar grumpily.
"Yesss. I need my purse."
The three approached the inn door. "You know, you shouldn't be so reluctant to find the elf, Fin." Said Bastian knowingly. "She stole your lucky helmet as well."
Finnbar growled.
My character background PART SIX OF TEN. (This one is quite entertaining)
Sparrow approached the bar and hailed the bartender. He was a dwarf who had to stand on a stool to see over the counter. "Whaddya want?" He said gruffly. Sparrow thought. "Two pints of strong spiced vanilla tea, if you would be so kind as to leave out the wine for me." "You don't drink? Hmph. There oughta be more people like you 'ere." He had barely finished his sentence when one of the drunk humans picked up an enterprising gnome by the collar and bellowed, "You don't even THINK about raking MY purse, you scoundrelly rascal!!"
The bartender climbed onto the bench and barked, "Oi! You put him down!" The drunkard shouted, "' `Ee was try'in ta steal me gold! We haf rules bout that, ain'ee?" He tossed the halfling easily to another of his comrades. The manhandled gnome's fellows shrieked in anger and the humans laughed at them in reply. The bartender sneezed furiously. "If you're too buggered to notice an urchin like that stealing your prize, then no more ale for you!"
The human spat on the ground and walked out. The comrade holding the gnome dropped him unkindly on the ground and called the bartender something very rude, making his face redden to the colour of wine. Several gnomes squealed with outrage. A human grabbed one and shoved him across the door before taking his leave. As the brutes strutted to the door, jeering, something few through the air with a twang and landed, point blank, in the door about two inches from the mans head. He stayed stock still, eyes wide with shock. His companions turned around and saw Sparrow holding her bow outstretched. She gave a sharp tilt of her head. "Go."
One of the humans seemed to consider something. Suddenly he gave a harsh command and his comrades were midway through drawing weapons when-
THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.
Something enormous was walking down from the upper balcony. Within a moment of delicate silence a huge armored dragonborn walked slowly to a halt beside Sparrow, whose eyes widened then slitted in satisfaction. The humans now looked wary but did not leave. The dragonborn seemed to register this, as he said in a commanding voice, "There is no victory for you here. Go, and you may not lose all of your honor this night." By now every creature in the tavern had the humans' attention and were also staring at them with dislike. Slowly, collectively, they began to back away.
Then suddenly a strangled yell emerged from the balcony, jumped off it and landed point blank atop one of the human's heads. The creature, who in the fray looked to be a midget, was screaming ferociously and was pummeling without hesitation, jumping from one drunk to the next and shouting insults to mid-air. The dragonborn beside Sparrow growled aggressively, roaring, "FINNBAR!! NO!!"
It was too late. Fight broke out instantly.
Sparrow, who was ready to defend the bartender from the advancing human knights, was bowled aside as the bartender himself heaved himself over the counter grasping a pair of handaxes and yelling "Off with all o' you scoundrels wrecking my pub! You lot be damned!" Sparrow was left trying to calm down an old minotaur with consumption who was coughing up a lung and trying to yell battle cries simultaneously, as the group of sturdy dwarves ran behind and started attacking anyone in range with their clubs. Sparrow left to run upwards and onto the roof and was hijacked on the upper balcony by a familiar seeming eladrin who pulled her down just as a whizzing shirikin flew right past where her head had been seconds before. He pointed to her backpack. Sparrow was about to ask him what the hell he was doing when she caught a glimpse of the screaming midget's face below and suddenly realized where she'd seen him before. She gulped.
The band had started to play a merry accordion tune which contrasted amusingly with the nature of the now immense bar-fight. The gnomes yelled furiously and banded together with the merry halflings to form a swamp of small sized fighters wielding handaxes at people's shins. The dragonborn was trying his hardest to break up the fight with no success. The Teiflings in the corner, who now appeared to be warlocks, began to cast a deadly looking spell. The eladrin in front of Sparrow noticed them, and said urgently to Sparrow, "I need my staff back. Now!" She hesitated. "Why-" "Don't ask, just give the staff to me!" She faltered. "Now!" She handed it over reluctantly and the eladrin immediately jumped over the railing, swung down a support pole and reflected the warlock's spells just as they soared towards the center of the fray. A punch collided with her shoulder. Sparrow turned around just as the meaty fist pulled back again, too late for her to block-
The human in front of her buckled as the taloned foot of a dragonborn dealt a scathing blow to the back of his unarmored knees. The dragonborn nodded at her and yelled, "I need to to help me get these ones out." He gestured towards a couple wounded gnomes. Sparrow nodded and he led her through the fray, dodging fists and elbows and clubs as they made their way toward the wounded. The gnomes were weak and grateful to be carried away from further harm. The dragonborn picked up two and Sparrow was left to hold the third. Luckily, they weren't heavy. As they carried the hurt gnomes up to a spare room above the tavern, the dragonborn introduced himself. "I'm Bastian." He said. "My companions are that damned halfling Finnbar, who started this blasted fight in the first place. The eladrin's name is Jukenaar." "And you're travelers?" Sparrow asked. "Adventurers." Bastian replied. "We journey far and wide exploring and ridding lands of evil." "Thats quite a proud phrase for a group of merely three members." Commented Sparrow. "Well," He said, heaving a slipping gnome higher up his shoulder, "We are looking for more people. None of us can shoot or throw shirikins. Finnbar has handaxes, but in his fury he tends to charge in front of us usually. I saw you shoot back there. You have talent." Sparrow half-smiled. "Thanks."
They deposited the gnomes on stretchers they found in the inn rooms. The gnomes mumbled thanks, and the elf and dragonborn made their way downstairs. "I still didn't get your name." Bastian said, grinning. She smiled. "My name is Spar-" She stopped.
"Lucia. Lucia Rivera. I am a sylvan elf from the tribe of Oakenheel, or Meliamne in elfish." She didn't know why she didn't tell him the truth, but she kept her stead. She had a feeling that she recognized the eladrin from a visit to the palace long ago, when she was eight; and she didn't want him recognizing her as the runaway princess. But something about the dragonborn demanded truth but she desisted. Instead, she told him, "I'm centering myself here, in the inn. I'm thinking of adventuring out myself, and if you have want for another to join your party, I will gladly offer my bow to your service." Bastian considered this, a slight smile creeping onto his features.
"I'll have to talk to Jukenaar first." He said. "He still hasn't forgiven you for trying to kill him, you know."
Sparrow, instead of showing guilt, smiled savvily. "You can send my apologies."
Bastian smiled and rejoined the fight.
The bartender climbed onto the bench and barked, "Oi! You put him down!" The drunkard shouted, "' `Ee was try'in ta steal me gold! We haf rules bout that, ain'ee?" He tossed the halfling easily to another of his comrades. The manhandled gnome's fellows shrieked in anger and the humans laughed at them in reply. The bartender sneezed furiously. "If you're too buggered to notice an urchin like that stealing your prize, then no more ale for you!"
The human spat on the ground and walked out. The comrade holding the gnome dropped him unkindly on the ground and called the bartender something very rude, making his face redden to the colour of wine. Several gnomes squealed with outrage. A human grabbed one and shoved him across the door before taking his leave. As the brutes strutted to the door, jeering, something few through the air with a twang and landed, point blank, in the door about two inches from the mans head. He stayed stock still, eyes wide with shock. His companions turned around and saw Sparrow holding her bow outstretched. She gave a sharp tilt of her head. "Go."
One of the humans seemed to consider something. Suddenly he gave a harsh command and his comrades were midway through drawing weapons when-
THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.
Something enormous was walking down from the upper balcony. Within a moment of delicate silence a huge armored dragonborn walked slowly to a halt beside Sparrow, whose eyes widened then slitted in satisfaction. The humans now looked wary but did not leave. The dragonborn seemed to register this, as he said in a commanding voice, "There is no victory for you here. Go, and you may not lose all of your honor this night." By now every creature in the tavern had the humans' attention and were also staring at them with dislike. Slowly, collectively, they began to back away.
Then suddenly a strangled yell emerged from the balcony, jumped off it and landed point blank atop one of the human's heads. The creature, who in the fray looked to be a midget, was screaming ferociously and was pummeling without hesitation, jumping from one drunk to the next and shouting insults to mid-air. The dragonborn beside Sparrow growled aggressively, roaring, "FINNBAR!! NO!!"
It was too late. Fight broke out instantly.
Sparrow, who was ready to defend the bartender from the advancing human knights, was bowled aside as the bartender himself heaved himself over the counter grasping a pair of handaxes and yelling "Off with all o' you scoundrels wrecking my pub! You lot be damned!" Sparrow was left trying to calm down an old minotaur with consumption who was coughing up a lung and trying to yell battle cries simultaneously, as the group of sturdy dwarves ran behind and started attacking anyone in range with their clubs. Sparrow left to run upwards and onto the roof and was hijacked on the upper balcony by a familiar seeming eladrin who pulled her down just as a whizzing shirikin flew right past where her head had been seconds before. He pointed to her backpack. Sparrow was about to ask him what the hell he was doing when she caught a glimpse of the screaming midget's face below and suddenly realized where she'd seen him before. She gulped.
The band had started to play a merry accordion tune which contrasted amusingly with the nature of the now immense bar-fight. The gnomes yelled furiously and banded together with the merry halflings to form a swamp of small sized fighters wielding handaxes at people's shins. The dragonborn was trying his hardest to break up the fight with no success. The Teiflings in the corner, who now appeared to be warlocks, began to cast a deadly looking spell. The eladrin in front of Sparrow noticed them, and said urgently to Sparrow, "I need my staff back. Now!" She hesitated. "Why-" "Don't ask, just give the staff to me!" She faltered. "Now!" She handed it over reluctantly and the eladrin immediately jumped over the railing, swung down a support pole and reflected the warlock's spells just as they soared towards the center of the fray. A punch collided with her shoulder. Sparrow turned around just as the meaty fist pulled back again, too late for her to block-
The human in front of her buckled as the taloned foot of a dragonborn dealt a scathing blow to the back of his unarmored knees. The dragonborn nodded at her and yelled, "I need to to help me get these ones out." He gestured towards a couple wounded gnomes. Sparrow nodded and he led her through the fray, dodging fists and elbows and clubs as they made their way toward the wounded. The gnomes were weak and grateful to be carried away from further harm. The dragonborn picked up two and Sparrow was left to hold the third. Luckily, they weren't heavy. As they carried the hurt gnomes up to a spare room above the tavern, the dragonborn introduced himself. "I'm Bastian." He said. "My companions are that damned halfling Finnbar, who started this blasted fight in the first place. The eladrin's name is Jukenaar." "And you're travelers?" Sparrow asked. "Adventurers." Bastian replied. "We journey far and wide exploring and ridding lands of evil." "Thats quite a proud phrase for a group of merely three members." Commented Sparrow. "Well," He said, heaving a slipping gnome higher up his shoulder, "We are looking for more people. None of us can shoot or throw shirikins. Finnbar has handaxes, but in his fury he tends to charge in front of us usually. I saw you shoot back there. You have talent." Sparrow half-smiled. "Thanks."
They deposited the gnomes on stretchers they found in the inn rooms. The gnomes mumbled thanks, and the elf and dragonborn made their way downstairs. "I still didn't get your name." Bastian said, grinning. She smiled. "My name is Spar-" She stopped.
"Lucia. Lucia Rivera. I am a sylvan elf from the tribe of Oakenheel, or Meliamne in elfish." She didn't know why she didn't tell him the truth, but she kept her stead. She had a feeling that she recognized the eladrin from a visit to the palace long ago, when she was eight; and she didn't want him recognizing her as the runaway princess. But something about the dragonborn demanded truth but she desisted. Instead, she told him, "I'm centering myself here, in the inn. I'm thinking of adventuring out myself, and if you have want for another to join your party, I will gladly offer my bow to your service." Bastian considered this, a slight smile creeping onto his features.
"I'll have to talk to Jukenaar first." He said. "He still hasn't forgiven you for trying to kill him, you know."
Sparrow, instead of showing guilt, smiled savvily. "You can send my apologies."
Bastian smiled and rejoined the fight.
I'm going to be late this saturday
Due to Healthy Harbour Watchers, I wont be able to make it until about 1:30. Sorry about that, but I missed the last one and I cant really miss this one too so I kind of have to go. :(
My character background PART FIVE OF TEN
The journey to Fulcrest took most of the next day. Sparrow had sold most of her unmovable possessions, because she had no intention of coming back. At least, not for a few years.
She had decided the evening before to start working physically for her deity, Melora. The call of her religion beckoned her to travel the land in search of threats to nature- deforestation, belching smoke and burning soot, rivers turned dirty with oil and charred trees. Threats to the wildlife and sea-creatures, she must uproot. It was for this reason that Sparrow began her next journey, and the one that would lead her to her destiny. Oh, and to sell the staff. But that was just a small interaction for her to complete.
After that she would begin traveling.
Link's words echoed in her mind more than ever. It was a constant voice in her dreams and thoughts- "I know someday you'll come back.". She found it difficult not to make plans to sneak back to Elderhaven and see him, but the chance that she would be caught was a weight on the decision. She knew she must not stray back.
It was late afternoon when Sparrow reached the gates of Fulcrest. They were open, and she received no questions from the town guards. This was good. It meant that the diversity of the city's inhabitants was such that a cloaked elf with a large quantity of weapons did not even worthy a glance. Sparrow asked a guard for a recommendation on what inn she should choose, and he told her there was a good tavern just a little ways east near the stables. Sparrow bid him thanks and set off to look for it.
The sun was nearing the horizon when she entered the pub. It was a shabby place but cosy, with fires burning all around and a egoistic bard leading a band in a jolly irish folk song. The inn was crowded and noisy; ale was cheap here and empty tankards dripped in a tell-tale fashion. Sparrow studied the inhabitants.
A large quantity of tipsy halflings were singing a drinking song by the fireplace, occasionally throwing a few gulps of ale on the fire to make it roar with flame. Three suspicious looking teiflings reigned over one corner of the main hall, no-one else wanting to approach them, and a crowd of noisy dwarves bellowed furiously over the origin of a lifedrinker greataxe that Sparrow curiously recognized from somewhere. A parade of gaudily-adorned devas were attracting plenty of attention from their place by the window, and a band of rogue gnomes pickpocketed a collection of drunk humans mercilessly. Nobody noticed the small group of adventurers sitting quietly in a corner.
She had decided the evening before to start working physically for her deity, Melora. The call of her religion beckoned her to travel the land in search of threats to nature- deforestation, belching smoke and burning soot, rivers turned dirty with oil and charred trees. Threats to the wildlife and sea-creatures, she must uproot. It was for this reason that Sparrow began her next journey, and the one that would lead her to her destiny. Oh, and to sell the staff. But that was just a small interaction for her to complete.
After that she would begin traveling.
Link's words echoed in her mind more than ever. It was a constant voice in her dreams and thoughts- "I know someday you'll come back.". She found it difficult not to make plans to sneak back to Elderhaven and see him, but the chance that she would be caught was a weight on the decision. She knew she must not stray back.
It was late afternoon when Sparrow reached the gates of Fulcrest. They were open, and she received no questions from the town guards. This was good. It meant that the diversity of the city's inhabitants was such that a cloaked elf with a large quantity of weapons did not even worthy a glance. Sparrow asked a guard for a recommendation on what inn she should choose, and he told her there was a good tavern just a little ways east near the stables. Sparrow bid him thanks and set off to look for it.
The sun was nearing the horizon when she entered the pub. It was a shabby place but cosy, with fires burning all around and a egoistic bard leading a band in a jolly irish folk song. The inn was crowded and noisy; ale was cheap here and empty tankards dripped in a tell-tale fashion. Sparrow studied the inhabitants.
A large quantity of tipsy halflings were singing a drinking song by the fireplace, occasionally throwing a few gulps of ale on the fire to make it roar with flame. Three suspicious looking teiflings reigned over one corner of the main hall, no-one else wanting to approach them, and a crowd of noisy dwarves bellowed furiously over the origin of a lifedrinker greataxe that Sparrow curiously recognized from somewhere. A parade of gaudily-adorned devas were attracting plenty of attention from their place by the window, and a band of rogue gnomes pickpocketed a collection of drunk humans mercilessly. Nobody noticed the small group of adventurers sitting quietly in a corner.
My character background PART FOUR OF TEN
And he reached for a magic staff by the wall.
He must be a cleric, thought Sparrow curiously, and then she noticed the eladrin was clasping his staff, which was slowly starting to glow. Sparrow deflated.
Ah.
"FINNBAR!" He said in a tremulous tone, holding the staff outwards menacingly.
Sparrow, who had been ready to do a double somersault to avoid whatever spell the newfound cleric was about to perform, paused.
"FINNBAR!!!" The cleric thundered again. Sparrow frowned, confused. That didn't sound like a spell.
Then she realized the cleric wasn't casting a spell, but rather trying to revive the sleeping halfling brute snoring in the corner.
Except he wasn't snoring anymore.
Time to go.
Sparrow seized the sword, rammed it into it's sheath, tucked it under her elbow and ran to the door.
It had locked.
She wondered if she could take the cleric. Her fighting skills were advanced, a strange combination of deadly martial arts practiced among the avengers and assassins of Charr, taught to her as a youth; and of vicious pub-brawl kickboxing she picked up in the alleys and streetsides of the slums. Still, he was a cleric, which meant that he was quite likely to hex her if she came too close.
But he was drunk.
Whipping an arrow from her quiver fast as a whip, she drew it back and with a twang it shot toward the cleric. He froze it in mid-air about a foot from his nose.
Sparrow was just thinking of her shirikins when she found she couldn't move. Her feet were rooted to the floor. She struggled on the spot, growling, and narrowed her eyes at the cleric.
He smiled drunkenly. "My sword."
As he moved toward her, Sparrow had an idea.
She raised the sword above her head in both hands, holding it high above him. Sparrow, being abnormally large at a height of over six feet, was no match for the reach of the eladrin, who besides being at least a foot shorter than her, was too drunk to even consider knocking her unconscious. Instead, the exhausted drunk jumped up once, jumped up again.….and passed out.
Well, that's convenient, thought Sparrow. Amazed by her own luck, she snatched up the staff and the sword, plus the purse, and a collection of shiny gold talismans, before climbing out the window, up to the roof and away.
Back on her favorite rooftop, which also doubled as her lodging; Sparrow examined her loot curiously. The magic staff was definitely worth something. She'd never seen anything like it before, in all her 18 years. It was large and made of what looked like white gold- a thought which excited Sparrow immensely- and had a large shiny blue gem- pure as snow and as clear as a bright spring day- caged in silver at it's top. The staff was interwound with sterling silver leaves and was VERY heavy. Sparrow decided not to sell it immediately, but to take it to a nearby city; a city called Fulcrest.
This was her first mistake.
He must be a cleric, thought Sparrow curiously, and then she noticed the eladrin was clasping his staff, which was slowly starting to glow. Sparrow deflated.
Ah.
"FINNBAR!" He said in a tremulous tone, holding the staff outwards menacingly.
Sparrow, who had been ready to do a double somersault to avoid whatever spell the newfound cleric was about to perform, paused.
"FINNBAR!!!" The cleric thundered again. Sparrow frowned, confused. That didn't sound like a spell.
Then she realized the cleric wasn't casting a spell, but rather trying to revive the sleeping halfling brute snoring in the corner.
Except he wasn't snoring anymore.
Time to go.
Sparrow seized the sword, rammed it into it's sheath, tucked it under her elbow and ran to the door.
It had locked.
She wondered if she could take the cleric. Her fighting skills were advanced, a strange combination of deadly martial arts practiced among the avengers and assassins of Charr, taught to her as a youth; and of vicious pub-brawl kickboxing she picked up in the alleys and streetsides of the slums. Still, he was a cleric, which meant that he was quite likely to hex her if she came too close.
But he was drunk.
Whipping an arrow from her quiver fast as a whip, she drew it back and with a twang it shot toward the cleric. He froze it in mid-air about a foot from his nose.
Sparrow was just thinking of her shirikins when she found she couldn't move. Her feet were rooted to the floor. She struggled on the spot, growling, and narrowed her eyes at the cleric.
He smiled drunkenly. "My sword."
As he moved toward her, Sparrow had an idea.
She raised the sword above her head in both hands, holding it high above him. Sparrow, being abnormally large at a height of over six feet, was no match for the reach of the eladrin, who besides being at least a foot shorter than her, was too drunk to even consider knocking her unconscious. Instead, the exhausted drunk jumped up once, jumped up again.….and passed out.
Well, that's convenient, thought Sparrow. Amazed by her own luck, she snatched up the staff and the sword, plus the purse, and a collection of shiny gold talismans, before climbing out the window, up to the roof and away.
Back on her favorite rooftop, which also doubled as her lodging; Sparrow examined her loot curiously. The magic staff was definitely worth something. She'd never seen anything like it before, in all her 18 years. It was large and made of what looked like white gold- a thought which excited Sparrow immensely- and had a large shiny blue gem- pure as snow and as clear as a bright spring day- caged in silver at it's top. The staff was interwound with sterling silver leaves and was VERY heavy. Sparrow decided not to sell it immediately, but to take it to a nearby city; a city called Fulcrest.
This was her first mistake.
Saturday, May 7, 2011
Sorry about my reluctance to leave yesterday, but its OK because mum said I can still go this week.
And I promise not to bring anything. I mean it this time. Except mints. Of course.
Thursday, May 5, 2011
I'm really very sorry but I could't help it.
I'm sorry!! I unconsciously made a batch of best blueberry muffins and another 6 liters of fruit punch, and I accidentally made a birthday cake for Jelly.But its all 97% fat free! Oh, except the two boxes of eclipse mints, but those are sugar free. So all's goods then.
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
This is actually before all the others, so Sparrow is just preparing to leave Elderhaven and set out. This is four years before present time.
At dawn, once she had finished secretly packing, she turned to take her leave but before she did so she felt a hand on her shoulder. It was Link Farshot, the palace gardener, craftsman and hunter. He was shorter than her and her same age, with kind brown eyes, soft, light brown curls and coffee toned-skin. His long pointed ears were curved inward slightly, like a winter-elf's. he was honest and kind and her only friend.
"I saw you last night. Are you alright?" he took her arm. She wrenched it back and said fiercely, "Whatever I am feeling is no business of yours." Link was silent and Sparrow felt ashamed. "I'm sorry." She said. She meant it.
"I'm OK I guess. I'm not sure where to go from here, but at the same time I'm exited." She said quietly. "The world outside Elderhaven is so full. I'm ecstatic to be able, finally, to see it."
Link looked at her with sad eyes. "But where will you go?" Sparrow was quiet for a moment. "I'm not sure." She paused."But I will return, I promise." Link bit his lip. "Promise you'll write to me. All the time. There are new services that guarantee fast delivery of personal messages. Whatever the cost, it'll be worth it."
Sparrow suddenly seemed to light up. "Come with me." Link looked dubious. "But I'm just a-" "A hunter, aren't you!? You'll be great. You can shoot an arrow well over 50 feet. I've seen you!"
"Sparrow, I'm not sure whether-" "Oh come now Farshot, if it wasn't for me you'd be a farmboy peasant somewhere out of the Haven itself-" "-And if it wasn't for me you'd be back at the palace! Face it, Sparrow, I've gotten you into enough trouble already-" "So? I want you there. Please." Link bit his lip again and she jumped up and down impatiently. "Cleodine-" "All I want is for you to be there. You don't have to do anything. I swear-" "Cleo-" "You'll love it out there. Come with me, Farshot-" "SPARROW." "She stopped. He closed his eyes and said; "What I'm trying to say is, I just don't want to." He opened his eyes and looked at her. "What I'm trying to say is…I..just don't want to go."
Sparrow's eyes softened. "I'm sorry. …I understand." Surprised, Link frowned. "Really?" "Yeah," she said. "I sort of knew you wouldn't be able to leave. You like it too much here." Link looked relieved. "And it's safe." He added. Sparrow nodded. He had never been one for bravery. Suddenly, his eyebrows drew together in a worried frown. "But you'll be okay, won't you? It's dangerous out there. You don't know how many stories I've heard about those lands. I swea-"
"I've heard them too." Said Sparrow. She set her face into a determined grimace. "And I'm ready."
"I made you this." Said Link. He held his hand outstretched, fingers clasped around the hem of a purple velvet bag. She took it. She opened it and drew out a strange semi-circular object, white and so delicate she thought it would break in her fingers. Upon closer inspection she found it was a tiara. "I spent all night making it." Link explained. It was beautiful. Streams of ivory-white curled into roses in it's center, thorns extending down into a large pointed thorn-tip that dipped down just above the center of her eyebrows, halfway down her forehead. Sparrow laid it on her head and tried not to cry. "It's beautiful." She said delicately. Before she knew it, Link had stepped forward and scooped her up in a tight hug. Sparrow pressed her tears into his shoulder. She would miss him.
"I'm sorry to have to go." She said. "I cant stand it her any longer. You know that." Link nodded. "You need to keep watch. Your father may send out watchmen to look for you. After all, royal blood is forbidden outside these city walls. When they realize you're missing-" "Farshot, do you really think they'll find me?" "But-well-" "Don't worry. Just- keep calm and don't say anything about me." "You know I won't." Link smiled, but it was a sad smile. "Now go." "But-" "NOW. Or you'll never make up your mind." Link chuckled. "Why are you so willing to let me run away?" She asked. "Because you know it'll be all for the best in the end?" She looked quite morose. Link breathed. "No," He said quietly. It's because I-" And then he said the words that would never leave her.
"-I know that someday you'll come back."
Chapter two__________
Sparrow didn't manage to catch her last sentimental glimpse of the city. That was because she fell off the wall before she could turn back around properly. "Ooof." She grunted, hitting the earthy ground. Luckily the ground was not harsh on her; the fallen autumn leaves and pine needles made a soft cushioning for her impact. She stood up and shook several hitchhiking leaves off her back like a dog, and then blinked. The impact of what she was about to do ran through her mind for the first time. What if what Link said was true? What if she wasn't ready?
Sparrow slept that night at the bottom of a ravine. She'd made little progress in the four hours she'd walked that day, but then again, she reasoned, it wasn't like she knew where she was going after all; let alone trying to get there in a certain time. But she had to find food soon or she would be too weak for any possible combat.
The latter was also slowing her down. Determined to catch any approaching threat, she was turning around so often that it reasoned paranoia. She had undergone years of secretly kept teachings in martial defense, but her attack workspaces were not high. But she felt much more confident knowing her arrows were on her back; her only weapon. But she had many expensive items of jewelry and royal treasures that were resting safely in her pack, and she had made a mental to trade them in at the nearest town. The prospect of another town scared her. What were the inhabitants like? What was it like to live amongst other races? Sparrow had connections with eladrin, her cousins from near the fey. She had only seen another race once before, when a group of travelers was welcomed into a city after rescuing an abducted young elf. There had been two dragonborn and a shardmind n their party, as well as two eladrins bearing staffs. Sparrow, being eight at the time, shrank against the wall to avoid their gaze.
Now she awoke to a piercing golden sun. She contemplated what she was to aim for today, and then stood up, stretched, picked up a couple stray leaves that had stuck to her back from her soft, dirty smelling bed of pine needles, and continued on.
By noon, the trail rations were all but gone from her pack and she was starting to feel very hungry. She'd filled up her flask at the last river, but it was now running low and the hot midday sun made her feel thirsty enough to drink it in a second. She shook off the heat but the enormity and endlessness of her journey stifled her in her mind. The leaves crunched under her boots. Branches creaked in the breeze. Sparrow turned a corner around a huge stone cliff, and suddenly, the world was ripe with a crossbow bolts! Goblins, short in height but fierce in strength, made her way toward her, hungry for flesh. She could run, but her anger at herself and all who had tried to repress her flowed through her veins. She pulled out her bow.
The three goblins circled her hungrily. One of the pulled out a shirikin. "Oh, damn." Said Sparrow.
Then she let her first arrow fly. It hit a goblin square in the chest and he doubled over, provoking an angry cry from the rest of the goblin party. One of them threw a shirikin, which she dodged. It whizzed by her ear and stuck into a tree, a foot behind her. She shot again, hit, reloading and turning around again just as another crossbow bolt pinned her arm to the trunk of the tree behind by the thick hide of her armor.. Unable to shoot her bow, Sparrow struggled frantically. One of the goblins said something in it's language. "Eeeugggdbdeli oioilhssaaggaadoong geeeeeebbhblgblghlwaa?" Laughing maliciously, the second goblin walked toward her, raising his dagger menacingly. He came closer, blade outstretched- "Wrong move." Said Sparrow quietly. Quick as a flash, she did a prize martial technique, slamming both fists against the tree trunk , kicking off from the ground and walking through air; twisting as she did; she caught the goblin by the neck between her ankles. With a nasty crack, it fell to the ground, dead. During the general confusion that followed, Sparrow twisted back her arm and pulled the shirikin from the tree in which it was lodged, flinging it with all her might just as the third goblin pulled out a handaxe and positioned it, ready to throw. Surprisingly, the shirikin caught him right on target, cool steel blade burying itself in green flesh. The goblin yelled but did not fall. Sparrow turned and ran.
It followed. Through cool trees the size of towers, wild grasses lapping at their knees, the roar of the musky wind and the titters of birds high above, they ran. Sparrow, the fastest elf in her city and the stealthiest knave in the forest, quickly lost the goblin. But she didn't want to take any chances. Ducking behind a towering oak, she readied her bow noiselessly. The angered goblin soon came into range. All was still. Then-
TWANG.
"Take THAT!"
Sparrow wrenched the arrow out, and also took the shirikin. It had proved useful and she might need it later. She searched the body and found a handaxe, dagger, twenty silver pieces and six gold. She also discovered a map and although she couldn't read goblin, found the pictures of cities and roads very useful. Checking the goblin's front pocket, she came across a compass.
Liking her new items, Sparrow ran back to the scene of the other fight. This time she did not put away her bow but kept it drawn and at the ready. From now on she would take no chances. Stepping up to the bodies, she felt no twinge of fear, but instead a feeling of capability and accomplishment at them. These she looted too, and found other strange and useful treasures.
A satchel of sooty pencils and parchment proved useful when plotting the foes she had encountered and where. A rope and steel grappling hook would aid her climbing. A long black cloak with a hood found in one of the goblins' backpacks would help her avoid unwanted attention, especially if she saw anyone from her town. She collected thirty more gold pieces and seventy-five silver, and found a crossbow on one goblin, and a great axe on the other. The hand crossbows she kept, but one of them had a greataxe which she could not lift for more than a half-minute, and which was far too heavy for her to take with her. But she did use it to chop a dead pine tree into firewood. Then she set on her way once more.
"I saw you last night. Are you alright?" he took her arm. She wrenched it back and said fiercely, "Whatever I am feeling is no business of yours." Link was silent and Sparrow felt ashamed. "I'm sorry." She said. She meant it.
"I'm OK I guess. I'm not sure where to go from here, but at the same time I'm exited." She said quietly. "The world outside Elderhaven is so full. I'm ecstatic to be able, finally, to see it."
Link looked at her with sad eyes. "But where will you go?" Sparrow was quiet for a moment. "I'm not sure." She paused."But I will return, I promise." Link bit his lip. "Promise you'll write to me. All the time. There are new services that guarantee fast delivery of personal messages. Whatever the cost, it'll be worth it."
Sparrow suddenly seemed to light up. "Come with me." Link looked dubious. "But I'm just a-" "A hunter, aren't you!? You'll be great. You can shoot an arrow well over 50 feet. I've seen you!"
"Sparrow, I'm not sure whether-" "Oh come now Farshot, if it wasn't for me you'd be a farmboy peasant somewhere out of the Haven itself-" "-And if it wasn't for me you'd be back at the palace! Face it, Sparrow, I've gotten you into enough trouble already-" "So? I want you there. Please." Link bit his lip again and she jumped up and down impatiently. "Cleodine-" "All I want is for you to be there. You don't have to do anything. I swear-" "Cleo-" "You'll love it out there. Come with me, Farshot-" "SPARROW." "She stopped. He closed his eyes and said; "What I'm trying to say is, I just don't want to." He opened his eyes and looked at her. "What I'm trying to say is…I..just don't want to go."
Sparrow's eyes softened. "I'm sorry. …I understand." Surprised, Link frowned. "Really?" "Yeah," she said. "I sort of knew you wouldn't be able to leave. You like it too much here." Link looked relieved. "And it's safe." He added. Sparrow nodded. He had never been one for bravery. Suddenly, his eyebrows drew together in a worried frown. "But you'll be okay, won't you? It's dangerous out there. You don't know how many stories I've heard about those lands. I swea-"
"I've heard them too." Said Sparrow. She set her face into a determined grimace. "And I'm ready."
"I made you this." Said Link. He held his hand outstretched, fingers clasped around the hem of a purple velvet bag. She took it. She opened it and drew out a strange semi-circular object, white and so delicate she thought it would break in her fingers. Upon closer inspection she found it was a tiara. "I spent all night making it." Link explained. It was beautiful. Streams of ivory-white curled into roses in it's center, thorns extending down into a large pointed thorn-tip that dipped down just above the center of her eyebrows, halfway down her forehead. Sparrow laid it on her head and tried not to cry. "It's beautiful." She said delicately. Before she knew it, Link had stepped forward and scooped her up in a tight hug. Sparrow pressed her tears into his shoulder. She would miss him.
"I'm sorry to have to go." She said. "I cant stand it her any longer. You know that." Link nodded. "You need to keep watch. Your father may send out watchmen to look for you. After all, royal blood is forbidden outside these city walls. When they realize you're missing-" "Farshot, do you really think they'll find me?" "But-well-" "Don't worry. Just- keep calm and don't say anything about me." "You know I won't." Link smiled, but it was a sad smile. "Now go." "But-" "NOW. Or you'll never make up your mind." Link chuckled. "Why are you so willing to let me run away?" She asked. "Because you know it'll be all for the best in the end?" She looked quite morose. Link breathed. "No," He said quietly. It's because I-" And then he said the words that would never leave her.
"-I know that someday you'll come back."
Chapter two__________
Sparrow didn't manage to catch her last sentimental glimpse of the city. That was because she fell off the wall before she could turn back around properly. "Ooof." She grunted, hitting the earthy ground. Luckily the ground was not harsh on her; the fallen autumn leaves and pine needles made a soft cushioning for her impact. She stood up and shook several hitchhiking leaves off her back like a dog, and then blinked. The impact of what she was about to do ran through her mind for the first time. What if what Link said was true? What if she wasn't ready?
Sparrow slept that night at the bottom of a ravine. She'd made little progress in the four hours she'd walked that day, but then again, she reasoned, it wasn't like she knew where she was going after all; let alone trying to get there in a certain time. But she had to find food soon or she would be too weak for any possible combat.
The latter was also slowing her down. Determined to catch any approaching threat, she was turning around so often that it reasoned paranoia. She had undergone years of secretly kept teachings in martial defense, but her attack workspaces were not high. But she felt much more confident knowing her arrows were on her back; her only weapon. But she had many expensive items of jewelry and royal treasures that were resting safely in her pack, and she had made a mental to trade them in at the nearest town. The prospect of another town scared her. What were the inhabitants like? What was it like to live amongst other races? Sparrow had connections with eladrin, her cousins from near the fey. She had only seen another race once before, when a group of travelers was welcomed into a city after rescuing an abducted young elf. There had been two dragonborn and a shardmind n their party, as well as two eladrins bearing staffs. Sparrow, being eight at the time, shrank against the wall to avoid their gaze.
Now she awoke to a piercing golden sun. She contemplated what she was to aim for today, and then stood up, stretched, picked up a couple stray leaves that had stuck to her back from her soft, dirty smelling bed of pine needles, and continued on.
By noon, the trail rations were all but gone from her pack and she was starting to feel very hungry. She'd filled up her flask at the last river, but it was now running low and the hot midday sun made her feel thirsty enough to drink it in a second. She shook off the heat but the enormity and endlessness of her journey stifled her in her mind. The leaves crunched under her boots. Branches creaked in the breeze. Sparrow turned a corner around a huge stone cliff, and suddenly, the world was ripe with a crossbow bolts! Goblins, short in height but fierce in strength, made her way toward her, hungry for flesh. She could run, but her anger at herself and all who had tried to repress her flowed through her veins. She pulled out her bow.
The three goblins circled her hungrily. One of the pulled out a shirikin. "Oh, damn." Said Sparrow.
Then she let her first arrow fly. It hit a goblin square in the chest and he doubled over, provoking an angry cry from the rest of the goblin party. One of them threw a shirikin, which she dodged. It whizzed by her ear and stuck into a tree, a foot behind her. She shot again, hit, reloading and turning around again just as another crossbow bolt pinned her arm to the trunk of the tree behind by the thick hide of her armor.. Unable to shoot her bow, Sparrow struggled frantically. One of the goblins said something in it's language. "Eeeugggdbdeli oioilhssaaggaadoong geeeeeebbhblgblghlwaa?" Laughing maliciously, the second goblin walked toward her, raising his dagger menacingly. He came closer, blade outstretched- "Wrong move." Said Sparrow quietly. Quick as a flash, she did a prize martial technique, slamming both fists against the tree trunk , kicking off from the ground and walking through air; twisting as she did; she caught the goblin by the neck between her ankles. With a nasty crack, it fell to the ground, dead. During the general confusion that followed, Sparrow twisted back her arm and pulled the shirikin from the tree in which it was lodged, flinging it with all her might just as the third goblin pulled out a handaxe and positioned it, ready to throw. Surprisingly, the shirikin caught him right on target, cool steel blade burying itself in green flesh. The goblin yelled but did not fall. Sparrow turned and ran.
It followed. Through cool trees the size of towers, wild grasses lapping at their knees, the roar of the musky wind and the titters of birds high above, they ran. Sparrow, the fastest elf in her city and the stealthiest knave in the forest, quickly lost the goblin. But she didn't want to take any chances. Ducking behind a towering oak, she readied her bow noiselessly. The angered goblin soon came into range. All was still. Then-
TWANG.
"Take THAT!"
Sparrow wrenched the arrow out, and also took the shirikin. It had proved useful and she might need it later. She searched the body and found a handaxe, dagger, twenty silver pieces and six gold. She also discovered a map and although she couldn't read goblin, found the pictures of cities and roads very useful. Checking the goblin's front pocket, she came across a compass.
Liking her new items, Sparrow ran back to the scene of the other fight. This time she did not put away her bow but kept it drawn and at the ready. From now on she would take no chances. Stepping up to the bodies, she felt no twinge of fear, but instead a feeling of capability and accomplishment at them. These she looted too, and found other strange and useful treasures.
A satchel of sooty pencils and parchment proved useful when plotting the foes she had encountered and where. A rope and steel grappling hook would aid her climbing. A long black cloak with a hood found in one of the goblins' backpacks would help her avoid unwanted attention, especially if she saw anyone from her town. She collected thirty more gold pieces and seventy-five silver, and found a crossbow on one goblin, and a great axe on the other. The hand crossbows she kept, but one of them had a greataxe which she could not lift for more than a half-minute, and which was far too heavy for her to take with her. But she did use it to chop a dead pine tree into firewood. Then she set on her way once more.
Sunday, May 1, 2011
My character background PART THREE OF TEN
The coin pouch was within her arm's reach. Sparrow grinned, set down her tankard and was just reaching toward it with a precarious tilt of the chair when her mark stood up abruptly, swayed on the spot, and started lumbering toward the door to the stairs. Knowing these lead to the travelers' lodgings, she slipped out of her chair and filled her hip flask with the rest of her tea. She gave her mark a seconds' head start before following through the door the eladrin had shut behind him.
The stairs were old and steep. Stepping only on the sides of the steps to avoid creaking, Sparrow crested the stairs and in reaching the landing heard the sound of a key in a lock. She leapt up the remaining stairs just in time to catch a glimpse of the eladrin's teal blue cape vanishing through a door at the end of the hall. Smiling wickedly, Sparrow followed. She peered through the keyhole.
From the eladrin's point of view, the only problem in the world right then was that stupid halfling snoring on the bed opposite. His wretched companion had drunk all the rum in the cupboards and had fallen fast asleep without leaving him any.
Muttering to himself, the eladrin took two steps across the room, hit his toe against a chest of drawers and shouted a curse in elfish. Before she could stop herself, Sparrow snorted loudly. The drunk stopped. He started to walk towards the door, steps weaving dangerously, arm outstretched for the handle.
Sparrow gasped soundlessly, whipped around, saw that there were rafters above her, and jumped.
The hall was empty. Staggering around again, his eye just caught on something lying forgotten on the floor runner. He bent to pick it up and his fingers missed it by at least two feet.
This guy is really drunk! Thought Sparrow from above. She was crouched like a monkey in the middle of two diagonal wooden posts, watching the drunk elf examine the arrow she'd left lying on the ground as a distraction.
He was turning it over in his hands, seeing through blurred eyes the form of a flying sparrow at its tip. The beak and the edges of the wings were razor sharp and made of bronze tipped wood, from a black-locust tree. Sacred runes ran along it's stem in faded gold.
Sparrow realized with a start that he could read them, and hoped like hell he was too drunk to make them out.
No luck.
"She who is wild at heart shall always be free." Sparrow noticed the smoothness of his voice and decided he must be of higher class than she first thought. But he was drunk. And the fact that he was better off always meant more money to be had.
As the man tried to find the right door again, Sparrow leapt down easily from the rafters and was inside his room before he could even turn towards the noise. She made her way forward into the suite, and was just examining a very valuable looking sword when the eladrin stumbled through the room, door hitting wall with a resounding crash. Surprise formed on his face as he looked at her. His eyes too blurry to make anything out properly, he moved toward the figure. "That my sword." He blurted out tipsily. And he reached for a magic staff by the wall.
The stairs were old and steep. Stepping only on the sides of the steps to avoid creaking, Sparrow crested the stairs and in reaching the landing heard the sound of a key in a lock. She leapt up the remaining stairs just in time to catch a glimpse of the eladrin's teal blue cape vanishing through a door at the end of the hall. Smiling wickedly, Sparrow followed. She peered through the keyhole.
From the eladrin's point of view, the only problem in the world right then was that stupid halfling snoring on the bed opposite. His wretched companion had drunk all the rum in the cupboards and had fallen fast asleep without leaving him any.
Muttering to himself, the eladrin took two steps across the room, hit his toe against a chest of drawers and shouted a curse in elfish. Before she could stop herself, Sparrow snorted loudly. The drunk stopped. He started to walk towards the door, steps weaving dangerously, arm outstretched for the handle.
Sparrow gasped soundlessly, whipped around, saw that there were rafters above her, and jumped.
The hall was empty. Staggering around again, his eye just caught on something lying forgotten on the floor runner. He bent to pick it up and his fingers missed it by at least two feet.
This guy is really drunk! Thought Sparrow from above. She was crouched like a monkey in the middle of two diagonal wooden posts, watching the drunk elf examine the arrow she'd left lying on the ground as a distraction.
He was turning it over in his hands, seeing through blurred eyes the form of a flying sparrow at its tip. The beak and the edges of the wings were razor sharp and made of bronze tipped wood, from a black-locust tree. Sacred runes ran along it's stem in faded gold.
Sparrow realized with a start that he could read them, and hoped like hell he was too drunk to make them out.
No luck.
"She who is wild at heart shall always be free." Sparrow noticed the smoothness of his voice and decided he must be of higher class than she first thought. But he was drunk. And the fact that he was better off always meant more money to be had.
As the man tried to find the right door again, Sparrow leapt down easily from the rafters and was inside his room before he could even turn towards the noise. She made her way forward into the suite, and was just examining a very valuable looking sword when the eladrin stumbled through the room, door hitting wall with a resounding crash. Surprise formed on his face as he looked at her. His eyes too blurry to make anything out properly, he moved toward the figure. "That my sword." He blurted out tipsily. And he reached for a magic staff by the wall.
My character background PART TWO OF TEN
Sparrow found her way to the nearest city, a town called Fulcrest. Her royal blood unknown to others, Cleo quickly adopted the class and appearance of a rogue, as well as an accent with sharp vowels and dropped H’s. She learned the art of thievery and stealth, as well as becoming streetwise to the point of having acquaintances spread through many other cities; the result of often meeting travelers in bars, and often picking their pockets.
One night, exactly two years after her escape from Elderhaven; Cleo visited the Tavern of the Drunken Sailor, a favorite among travelers just come into the city through the docks beside the building. While drinking her way through two pints of spiced vanilla tea, she notices a large bag of cash hanging halfway out of the pocket of a very drunk seeming Eladrin.
....
to be continued.
One night, exactly two years after her escape from Elderhaven; Cleo visited the Tavern of the Drunken Sailor, a favorite among travelers just come into the city through the docks beside the building. While drinking her way through two pints of spiced vanilla tea, she notices a large bag of cash hanging halfway out of the pocket of a very drunk seeming Eladrin.
....
to be continued.
Saturday, April 30, 2011
APPARENTLY IT'S BACK ON
MY HOUSE AT 12:30
Wether we actually choose to play D&D depends on if anyone brings the stuff for it, if anyone is willing to endure me DM'ing, if anyone wants to DM themselves instead of having to endure me DM'ing; and teh general mood regarding the sweeeet alternative of saying what the hell and settling down to watch tropic thunder and play poker, which if you ask me is a pretty bad-ass way to spend the last day of term break.
So!
Wether we actually choose to play D&D depends on if anyone brings the stuff for it, if anyone is willing to endure me DM'ing, if anyone wants to DM themselves instead of having to endure me DM'ing; and teh general mood regarding the sweeeet alternative of saying what the hell and settling down to watch tropic thunder and play poker, which if you ask me is a pretty bad-ass way to spend the last day of term break.
So!
Friday, April 29, 2011
GUYS MY HOUSE AT 12:30 TOMORROW
My house at 12:30 tomorrow.
If you're into using public transport (cleaner for the environment!!) then catch the St. Clair bus at 12:15 from the octagon and get off at WILSON AVENUE. The house is the one painted the colour of poo and with the huge beech tree in front, about halfway down the road. :D see you there!
If you're into using public transport (cleaner for the environment!!) then catch the St. Clair bus at 12:15 from the octagon and get off at WILSON AVENUE. The house is the one painted the colour of poo and with the huge beech tree in front, about halfway down the road. :D see you there!
So, it's SUNDAY at 11 and I can't wait :D :D :D :D
Is there anything you need me to bring? I might make more cake. That was good. Or make something different this time. I do like to cook, so don't feel bad or anything. I do like to cook.
:D
-Sparrow ;)
:D
-Sparrow ;)
Thursday, April 28, 2011
IMPORTANT
WHAT TIME ARE WE MEETING TODAY?
Ciaran doesn't know, Nick and I aren't sure either, I can't get hold of Eamon. Does anybody know???
Ciaran doesn't know, Nick and I aren't sure either, I can't get hold of Eamon. Does anybody know???
My character background PART ONE OF TEN
In the heart of the ancient Elderwood forest, south of Watercrest and east of the dragonslayer plains, there is a breath of wind. A shake, a rustle. The leaves above quiver like arrows falling on harsh ground. Trees rub against each other in a duel of parched bark on parched bark. Nothing moves.
Then there is a twang.
"Take that!" cries a youthful, piping voice; worn at the edges and filled in with false maturity come from numerous hardships beyond it's owners' years. Something heavy falls to the ground. The figure rips the arrow out of it's victim without hesitation, wipes it on the fallen' goblin's trousers, and slides it mechanically back into the owner's quiver. It blinks at the sun's progress along the leafy canopy of forest above it.
It was, in fact, a girl, young in the years of her elven race but old enough to survive alone without second thought. Taller than a yew tree and skinnier than a ravens' bones, the girl was a strange-ling elf. Her name was Sparrow, and she was of royal blood.
Her class was unknown outside of her kingdom; raised and educated in the isolated elven community of Elderhaven, she still bore the mark of an unfeminine fierceness that was hard to place. For years she was forced to partake in those delicate ways of elven womenfolk, day after day of being forcedly suffocated in the silent politeness in the face of her "elders"- pfft, she had- excepting perhaps her deity, which she curiously held above all others- no elders. These long weeks of being taught what to do and exactly how to do it stretched into months, to no avail. After realizing her nature could not be swayed, her mother merely ceased to care over what was to become of the girl. Even her father seldom engaged her in conversation. Her sisters wanted nothing to do with her. Though wisdom was a natural ability come with elven blood, Sparrow was inept at the skill and found it pointless. Sparrow simply didn't fit.
She felt no jealousy toward her sisters for their royal ways. Instead, she delighted in that she rebelled; during ceremonies and banquets, she was always the odd one out among her sisters. Alongside their immaculate robes of gold and white and moonstone, she was an awkward mess of energy and impatience. And so stubborn.
In appearance she was a marvel. Sparrow had long, fiery locks of unkempt hair the color of a unripe blackberry; all mauves and plums and brownish reds. Her keen eyes, often cinched in concentration, were of a midnight sapphire blue so deep such that they seemed purple. Her eyebrows were long and thin, furrowed at the best of times; her lips too were two horizontal lines the color of a blood ruby.
Sparrow wore the clothes she had escaped in; half-length pants of muddy leather and a cross-bound hide corset, dark green and gold rune, as a form of armor. Onto this she had interwoven a wave of petrified leaves. Plates of treated leather and rose-wood were strapped upon her lower arm, her hands sported fingerless gloves made of brown silk. Sparrow wore no shoes. On her head she wore an intricate, extremely brittle tiara made of bone. It lay across the top of her head, downturned toward her eyebrows, giving her the look of a bird of prey.
Then there is a twang.
"Take that!" cries a youthful, piping voice; worn at the edges and filled in with false maturity come from numerous hardships beyond it's owners' years. Something heavy falls to the ground. The figure rips the arrow out of it's victim without hesitation, wipes it on the fallen' goblin's trousers, and slides it mechanically back into the owner's quiver. It blinks at the sun's progress along the leafy canopy of forest above it.
It was, in fact, a girl, young in the years of her elven race but old enough to survive alone without second thought. Taller than a yew tree and skinnier than a ravens' bones, the girl was a strange-ling elf. Her name was Sparrow, and she was of royal blood.
Her class was unknown outside of her kingdom; raised and educated in the isolated elven community of Elderhaven, she still bore the mark of an unfeminine fierceness that was hard to place. For years she was forced to partake in those delicate ways of elven womenfolk, day after day of being forcedly suffocated in the silent politeness in the face of her "elders"- pfft, she had- excepting perhaps her deity, which she curiously held above all others- no elders. These long weeks of being taught what to do and exactly how to do it stretched into months, to no avail. After realizing her nature could not be swayed, her mother merely ceased to care over what was to become of the girl. Even her father seldom engaged her in conversation. Her sisters wanted nothing to do with her. Though wisdom was a natural ability come with elven blood, Sparrow was inept at the skill and found it pointless. Sparrow simply didn't fit.
She felt no jealousy toward her sisters for their royal ways. Instead, she delighted in that she rebelled; during ceremonies and banquets, she was always the odd one out among her sisters. Alongside their immaculate robes of gold and white and moonstone, she was an awkward mess of energy and impatience. And so stubborn.
In appearance she was a marvel. Sparrow had long, fiery locks of unkempt hair the color of a unripe blackberry; all mauves and plums and brownish reds. Her keen eyes, often cinched in concentration, were of a midnight sapphire blue so deep such that they seemed purple. Her eyebrows were long and thin, furrowed at the best of times; her lips too were two horizontal lines the color of a blood ruby.
Sparrow wore the clothes she had escaped in; half-length pants of muddy leather and a cross-bound hide corset, dark green and gold rune, as a form of armor. Onto this she had interwoven a wave of petrified leaves. Plates of treated leather and rose-wood were strapped upon her lower arm, her hands sported fingerless gloves made of brown silk. Sparrow wore no shoes. On her head she wore an intricate, extremely brittle tiara made of bone. It lay across the top of her head, downturned toward her eyebrows, giving her the look of a bird of prey.
FRIDAY
I've honored my word that I will not bring anything to tomorrow's session :D I came sooo close to baking something...... but I finally just decided to bring a tin or two of mints :D :D :D :D
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
The theme needs to be changed.
Please, help show that this is necessary by commenting on this post. The colours are ALL WRONG. Can't we please just have plain colours? Pwease?
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
ELVEN MINIATURE
This was the photo James and I took of my Sparrow miniature with the napkin hair, right? I photoshopped it. Now I wish it looked like this in real life. :D
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| Before.... |
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| AFTER!!! :D |
Nick and Andrew:
I apparently need your email (gmail works) addresses to be able to add you as authors to this blog.
Thanks :D
Thanks :D
Well, here is the blog.
Guys, I hope you like it. I set out the design from scratch, but if you'd like a different colour scheme, please tell me. :D This should be an OK way to communicate until we can agree on whether to use skype or runescape. (Please please no)
If you set up a google account (unless you have one already, which would be NOM), you can "follow" this blog. If you do that, I can register you as "Authors" of the blog as well, so you can post things yourself. Hope this is satisfactory!
-Sarah :D :D :D
P.S. Like the web address? :P
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