Tales By The Fire

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  The Past Of Dermin
  • Seisan

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  Chapter 3 "I take you, you'll speak" _- The wounds… the wounds are supoused to heal and make you stronger, stronger than before, are supoused to heal and make you learn, learn more, to learn... perhaps, to be more careful next time; to heal and make to open your eyes more than before, make you see better than before, to clear the clouds that were blocking your sight before the wounds hurts... but the wounds don't hurt to me... the wounds doesn't make me learn, the wounds are not that pain, my wounds... never heal, the wounds are the unforgettable ardors of my stupidity - He pulled out a bolt from his shoulder - It's not such a pain... it's shuch my shame. I always have been an stupid man, not because i cant think so well, it's just that i always make the same mistakes. Guts... do i have guts? i'll never can answer myself, but i know my mind is so weak, my mind have always been so weak so then... guess that if i got some guts... they are also weaks.... perhaps that's why I'm always loney, perhaps that's why i have no... friends... do I have friends?... I am so insane... i have not the guts... to speak of friends... i have not the guts to make them my friends... i always get to forget... - He pulled out an other bolt from his shoulder - must I need to rest..? The night was so deeply, the woods were so calm, Dermin have has no move from that rough tree since two days, no creature has spotted him yet or at least... thats what he thinks. The superficial wounds ar half in the way to heal but the wounds inside of him, are the same like always, always ashamed of himself. Pants - No memories now...? guess it's because my mind can't think with an empty stomach... but i must to heal... i must to heal and get hurt myself again... i must... to learn - he pulled out the last bolt from his shoulder - Damn... such a good plate... thanks Miss Belade. - then he leaned his head against that tree, the night again was so deep and he tried to rest but only he could sleep._ In the middle of the crops, down a tree… you… cowardly child, why don't you want to talk! - the man in full plate was about to hit him right in his left cheek but an elf stoped the strike taking the hand of the man. {e} be patience my friend, the child will talk at time, do not force him to do or the more you'll get will be a deeper silence - he slowly put the mans hand down as he spoke. the Man gave a annoying snort - Say what you want, this child is a coward, and i hate cowards - His sight was directly to the child - you morron! - The man turned back and started to examine the evidence that they got since that day. The elf got near Dermin, facing him, and he laid a hand over his shoulder - You are just a child don't blame yourself, take your time, and when you get ready, then you talk. Dermin wasn't looking at him while the elf said that, however, he listened at all. The man in full plate got near again holding a rusted dagger as he was comming, the elf spoke You Dreaful paladin - he gave a grin - found something interesting?. The man smirked - shut you up, i told ya to call me by my name, i told ya since 33 years ago, and you keep calling me in that way- snort - heh… such an annoying mercenary elf - The elf gave him a warm smille. You, kid, whats this? - the man put the rusted dagger infront of him - why was this dagger there? . Dermin shrugged his shoulders. And the face of the paladin expressed more frustation. The elf laid a hand over the man's shoulder shaking his head slowly-Galh, you are wise but not too smart - he smilled - you have no touch - he grined. And you do? - the paladin said in an annoying tone. That's not correct - the elf chuckled. - {e} hmph, so what do you suggest? the Order of the Radiant Heart, put me in care of this kid The elf chuckled again - {e} thats a problem, you have no touch with kids, you never have had he smilled. - shut you up. - The paladin snort then he pants showing an expresion of sadness - {e} this kid, he is lost and alone, that's going to be such a pain in the ass, you know The elf slowly nodded - {e} then take him to your home, perhaps the time comes when he speak {e} yeah… you're right - The man nodded and turning back to Dermin he spoke - I take you, you'll speak- the man gave him a haste grin then he walk away. Dermin frowns an eyebrow gazing at the grass. The elf chuckled looking to the paladin walking away taking the stuff they gathered I'll take this to the Order - the man said The elf nodded to him and he laid a hand over Dermin's shoulder - you're living with him, he is a good man, perhaps his patience is something fulite but he underestand… - the elf grined and in a lower tone he say - go, i know you can walk, he will take care of you, and speak, when you want. the charims of the elf made to stand up Dermin giving him, perhaps, a hope and Dermin didn't last much in follows the paladins tracks. {e} Don't be so rude with him, Galh, he is just a child, im taking this dagger, ill investigate about - the elf shouted yeah, sure - and the man gave a hand wave to him as Dermin and he walked, then he spoke in a lower tone - so long… Erumth _so long… Galh, 'till the next time... the three of them got lost in two ways, a mercenary, a paladin and a quiet child..._
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  Jerrs weddings
  • Vortext

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  He struggled to get into the ceremonial outfit. She smiled as she helped him do it up, tsking when it proved a little tighter than last time. " <e>Maybe I no let you visit the kitchen anymore." He smiled down at her. "More of me to love, Love. Damn I am more nervous than I was when I did the Legend singing." " <e>This is more important." He paused, hesitating while he thought about her answer. 'It is, isn't it? Last chance to change minds, Love" She slapped his bicep and snorted. " <e>You? Change mind?" He turned chuckling and missed the look of concern on her face as she looked from her hand to his arm and wiggled her fingers. Slapping him was becoming like hitting a wall. For all his look of being fat he was solid, very solid. He faced the door and held his head high, white hair flowing with just a hint of colour deep in the roots. "What if they say no?" " <e>What if they say yes? Go, husband, face the battle." He smiled down at his wife and said softly. " <e>Till the stars leave the sky and the oceans dry up, I will always love you." Then he headed out of their room and down to dining hall where they waited. Little faces turned to look as he and Amith entered the room. Amith went past to the kitchen and stood in that doorway. Looking about Jerr saw several of the sisters standing in other doorways or sitting off to one side. Nicahh was at the door to the garden, her face a mask of calm. He looked to the little faces and thumped his drum softly. A lighter beat echoed him and he smiled to the lad who was studying drumming the dawn. "I said that when the time came to tell, you would be told. Now is that time." He looked out at them and was amazed . . . they were being quiet and listening to his every word. "You came to this house because you lost your families. I have spoken with Nicahh and Amith and they both agree that I . . .well you . . . " Damn, here he was messing it up again. Some skald he was, couldn't even speak to a bunch of children. He paused and spoke low, but in a voice that filled the room. Instead of some prepared speech, he spoke from the heart. There was no more hesitation, no flubbed sentences, just the power of a skald, and his voice. "I have spoken with the women and they have given me their blessings to offer you this choice. Amith and I would adopt any who wish it. You would have a family, us. You would still live in the house but you would not be orphans anymore. You would be members of my tribe, the Heyokarr. You would be my children. I do not plan to force this on any of you. If you wish to wait for another to adopt you I will understand. I am not a rich man, nor am I a powerfull warrior. I am who and what you know, Jerr, Skald of the Nars. But if you will have me I will also be your father. I will care for you as best I can. If my dying is what is needed for you to live then I will do that, too. But that is true right now. I don't want to pressure you or make you make a big decision quickly. So I will ask you tomorrow . . . " He paused and looked down at the second youngest who had quietly moved beside him. "Yes?" "I decide, daddy" Tears filled his eyes so that he could only see Amith as an outline. He could, however see the children getting up from the table and moving to stand beside him. The small drum beat softly, perfectly and he looked down at the lad with pride. At all of them. Every last one. He wiped his eyes and looked over to where Nicahh had stood but the door to the garden was quietly closing. Kneeling he held out his arms and was bowled over in a wave of hugs. :hug:</e></e></e></e></e>
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  Aelthas
  • Hazardous Moose

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  It is said that the very race of elves sprung from the blood of Corellon, during his many battles with Gruumsh. Corellon was a noble warrior, while Gruumsh was cruel and honorless. Their battle became the battle between the races they created. While Corellon defeated Gruumsh, he could not quite kill him, just as the elves cannot quite rid the world of the orcs. The length of such a conflict, one that is sure to be eternal, explains how the fair folk could harbor such a deep-seated hatred. Only their feelings for the drow, who most tel’quessir dare not even mention, rival it. Aelthas had given a lot of thought to the story of the battle between Corellon and Gruumsh lately. He stood in the middle of the windy plains south of Jiyyd, the plains the orcs claimed. The sun elf was watching the gates of their fortress, with narrowed eyes. The only sound coming from him was the occasional clank of the full plate he now wore, gifted to him by the elven bard Vine Spellsong, or the rattle of his bow against his back. “Tula, Aelthas.” Raryldor motioned for Aelthas to follow him back onto the road towards Jiyyd. The younger priest nodded and turned his gaze from the orc fortress calmly, without a word. The blood was beginning to dry on his blade; he would have to rinse it in the pond the two used for prayer and sometimes reverie. The sun followed the moon back to Jiyyd, finding a very bustling town inside the walls. Raryldor did not seem to take much interest in the crowd gathered around the campfire, but Aelthas was mildly curious. He stopped, taking a moment to search for any familiar faces, while Raryldor headed off to the pond. Soon enough a pair of smiling blue eyes stood before him. “Aaye!” Silmathienia greeted him, making her way out of the crowd. “Mae govannen, Silmathienia. Sut naa lle?” Aelthas asked her how she was. He glanced back to the crowd, seeing a variety of n’tel’quessir he was familiar with but never introduced himself to. He understood how short-lived the other races were, and based on what the sun elf had seen on his journey to Narfell he preferred to stay with his own people. Aelthas looked back to Silmathienia. “I am well, and you?” She looked to the blade he still held, dark with orc blood. He shrugged, eliciting a clank from his armor. Grinning he replied, “I’m not sure I can wear this armor much longer.” She laughed lightly; it was a sparkling laugh. By this time the moon was high in the night sky. “I should see to my prayers,” he explained, speaking softly. Getting a nod from the blonde elf, he turned and headed for the pond in the center of town. Raryldor was sitting quietly at the edge of the water, now clad in his grey robe. Aelthas knelt down next to him. After washing his blade in the pond, he closed his eyes and began his prayers with utter calm and tranquility. “Corellon, may your grace grant…” He prayed for the strength to protect his people. He prayed for their prosperity and well-being. He prayed for their triumph over the forces that would have them destroyed: the drow, the orcs, the servants of malicious deities that he knew to reside both above and below ground. When Aelthas opened his eyes, Raryldor had left him. He heard the yells of orc and man and his eyes widened in realization. The priest picked up the blade beside him, drew the elven shield from his back, and ran towards the sounds of battle. He came to the west gate. The crowd that had been peacefully gathered around the fire now stood at the gates, which lay broken and splintered at their feet. A few orcs were in the same state, arrows protruding from their bloodied bodies. There were mages and warriors, priests and bards, in a roughly assembled force. Jiyyd was certainly lucky to have them. An all too familiar drum sounded in the distance. Retaining his calm, Aelthas reached the gates to see Raryldor, whose armor continued to shine despite the orc blood upon it. But there was more to be spilled. Through the darkness they approached, tall hulking figures. An ugly chant filled the air, accompanied by an ominous drum. Aelthas gripped his sword tighter. The orcs leapt upon the defenders from the thick night fog, the gate torches illuminating their hideous faces. Aelthas drew up his shield to meet one particular orc that had its heart set on the sun elf. When placed next to a human warrior the priest appeared slight, let alone an orc. Its axe met Aelthas’ shield, shoving the elf back a few steps and off the broken gate. The sounds of metal clashing, voices yelling and grunting, and arrows whizzing by surrounded Aelthas. The young priest gritted his teeth and swung back at the orc, but only grazed its arm. The orc gave a dark laugh, its face twisting into a snarl. It went to lunge at the elf again, when an arrow buried itself in its shoulder. The orc groaned, giving Aelthas the opportunity to strike. He did so hurriedly, his tranquility giving way to the heat of battle. Down went the orc, and up came the sun. Aelthas joined Raryldor as the older priest fought, and the battle continued for quite some time. By the time daylight had arrived, the ground was strewn with orc bodies. The sons of Gruumsh had been defeated. None of the defenders had fallen. Aelthas came across the body of one especially large orc, and chanting a prayer to Corellon he flecked out its eye with his blade. He felt especially proud. Sheathing his blade, he only now took notice of the people around him. With Corellon’s grace he healed the wounded as best he could, rather dutifully, and then made his way to the inn for reverie. It was another victory against the orcs, but battle always unsettled the young sun elf. Aelthas opened the inn door to see, to his surprise, a short, silver-haired elven woman smiling brightly to him. About her neck hung a pendant of Angharradh. She introduced herself as Celestine.
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  The Manuscripts of Vincent D'Arneau
  • Dorakhan

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  _It has been quite some time since I have given my adoring fans any new melodies to enjoy. This shall not do. I've been experimenting with various progressions and key changes - along with major and minor exchanges. While this does not alter the melodies which many are used to, it provides a deal more variety and movement to the music. The first piece follows Waltz of the Drifting Leaves in the feelings it evokes - it has, perhaps, more of a wintery feel._ Snowflakes The second piece was inspired by a group of my tavern-going friends in Waterdeep. It's not quite as harsh the chanty you'd be used to hearing in the Peltarch Docks taverns, but it is of the sort, nonetheless. Chanty
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  Songs From the Leatherbound Book
  • Katebush

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  ((Music for Harp played with metallic fingerstrips and two drums. Each drum maintains a heartbeat that speeds it’s pace alternately with the other between each verse representing the heartbeats of the two ‘beasts’)) Heat in the Frozen Wastes From Ice and Snow and Frozen wastes The wolf lifts up her snout and tastes The scent of something on the air Something special, something rare Deep breath in to lock the scent Crouching low, her hind legs bent Kicking snow in a dazzling spray A dark grey blur is on it’s way. To the south the great cat creeps White fur on snow, it stalks then leaps Bears foe to ground with tooth and claw Rends it’s throat with red-lined maw Then pauses… …scanning all around he feels vibration through the ground With his one good eye he sees it not But he feels the threat, his blood is hot. Across the snow the grey form lopes Sprints down valleys, runs up slopes Blood smell mixes, but scent is stronger Crests a ridge, her stride gets longer Down below she sees the dead On field of white, a slash of red But she was not called here for blood or meat A deeper instinct, twice as sweet. White on white a shadows ghost he sees the thing he yearns for most From rest to run in merest blur Glittering snow and shimmering fur He charges towards his final fate An end for which he cannot wait Turning, twisting, tense then… …pounce He hits her foursquare with every ounce. He hits her high and from the side She turns and both begin to slide Down the slope, they twine, a blur Dark grey and white, a ball of fur Snow slide stops… …she has him pinned And with a laugh the woman grinned The fur is gone, was never there Just golden blonde and silver hair. Bare limbs twined upon the snow Their skin agleam with loves sweet glow They are both warm, feel not the cold No sound disturbs the lovers bold A world apart, within they dwell As with pure love their hearts do swell And there we leave them, Wolf and Cat No story older… …nor sweeter than that. –--------- For Ragnhild and Zoma, on their marriage.
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  The life of Belade Galadon the Brave
  • elor_danna

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  Fun with voice emotes
  • Maverick_tO

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  Fedar
  • TheGnome

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  Entry One Bah, I've decided on writing in a journal, so that me thoughts may be recorded on paper, in the event that I'm mugged for a second time. The Sails appear to be decent employers, an' I may as well function as a member as long as it benefits me. The captain immediately assigned me to a relatively difficult task involving thieves. I have received one response from a potential ally, yet I doubt I will progress on it any further as I recouperate. Another assignment is to identified who mugged me, which will require the assistance of a priest, and Tymora if my bloody fortune remains. The agony in me neck has receded, yet occasionally it returns at inopportune moments. Anyways, I will compile a list of the Sails members I've encountered here, in the event that I'm mugged..again. The Captain-Deacon Sterr-Regarded as a fool by a few of the members, yet appears to be competent. Drelan-Second in Command-Direct superior to meself, quiet an' authoritative. Should receive more respect. Bub-Fighting gnome, enjoys ale, reliable. Grak-Impetuous, a bit arrogant addicted to gold from my first impression. Corana-High Priest of Umberlee-Supports the others, unyielding, deadly with a greataxe. Space remains for other crew members Apparently the Dolvaks are interested in a housebreaking operation. I would prefer other hin, yet if they're cooperative, I may offer 'em a chance to join up. I'm beginning to understand what occurred to me, and am developing quickly with regard to combat. I've yet to sight Drelan in quite a period of time. I would be intrigued by his advice and opinions on my project and the Dolvaks. I will add more as new developments arise.
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  Vescar
  • Lucidious

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  –- WARNING: THIS STORY IS RATED R. --- --- No one under 17 admited wtihout a parent or guardian --- "Merilelle Kericent? Yes, I do know of her." Vescar, interviewing with Kestrix Corvance for position of bodyguard to his son Vintaro Corvance He lowered himself slowly down to one knee, his dark leathers bending with a slight sigh. He leaned in close, pulling away the black mask covering his nose and mouth. She lay there like a doll in that blue and gold dress, eyes wide open, unblinking. He was certain she couldn’t move, but mostly he was amazed she still lived. He could only tell by the glimmer in her eye. That little bit of sparkle you can see when you look close and they don’t turn away. At first, his expression was pure amazement…but slowly his lips curled into a grin. A wide disturbing grin, something you would expect to see from a child after giving them a piece of candy. He leaned in even closer, breathing on her skin. Slow calm even breaths. His eyes explored hers and the smile remained. His other knee came down slowly to her other side as he leaned in closer, now on top of her. He tipped his face in close, gently bumping his nose and lips against her cheek for a moment, still breathing evenly…backing away just enough to become a light touch. He kept that distance, now exploring her face, moving his against it, taking in her touch, her smell. He whispered to her softly in elvish as if only to amuse himself: "This must be a gift from the gods. You …" the smile, the look, became something more sinister "…are a gift." Now on all fours, he followed the curve of her cheek, his mouth brushing against her neck, moving slowly up to her ear. He paused there, pulling back just slightly, just enough to marvel at what he thought was so beautiful about it. His expression changed again … inquisitive, fascinated or perhaps enthralled. He reached back with his left hand, slowly drawing a dagger from the sheath on his side. The one he used on the Orc. The one he had sharpened and polished to perfection just a day before. He tilted his head slightly away and brought the blade down slowly and carefully to the side of her head. He went to work on her there, on the floor by the bed. Her blue and gold dress now grew dark in some places. A deep red bled into the blue, turning it dark and foul looking. He worked on her for perhaps an hour with the dagger until he noticed. He gazed like a child into her eyes. The light there was gone. All he could see was a shadow of him self there. And somehow, that pleased him. Later they would say she was killed along with the other nobles attending the dinner that evening. They would claim the target was not her, but Elindril.
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  War Stories
  • Caoimh

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  The huge Peltarch Siege Ballista firing at enemy positions during the eastlander war:- "General Lavindo stood upon the platform, gazing back calmly at the already battered eastlander positions. He uttered four words… "Death to Peltarch's enemies". In a moment of firing the long hours of preparation and surprise was ready to be unleashed upon Peltarch's enemies, and in that moment the eastlander positions became as ash, weapons, bodies and the ground itself became as one. And death followed after..." Extract from the Memoirs of Barrim Asbravn.
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  Shanr, the simple traveller
  • szeltolo

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  The fierce warrior...
  • szeltolo

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  Soldier and marksman
  • Wannabe_Irish

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  "Discharge? Wha… why?" Mark stood dumbfounded. The captain sighed, stood up calmly and walked around his office. "Mark, your orders were clear. If your superior fell, you were to retreat." "But our objectives were achieved..." Mark replied, but the captain cut him short "It doesn't matter, Mark. You disobeyed direct orders, you needlessly endangered the lives of other soldiers. You do not have the training nor the position to lead. You are lucky his Lordship didn't order a public switching, as the family of your fellow demanded. Personally I would've let them have their way..." "The Red Knight..." "Stow your whining, boy. The Red Knight doesn’t favour you anymore than she does any of us, despite your father’s capabilities. Quite frankly, I haven’t seen you live up to even half of his exploits. You will never get anywhere if you do not learn to respect your superiors. Now go, his Lordship’s orders were clear. Your status on his lands is now that of a peasant, you are to return your armour and weaponry. Your belongings will be returned to you, and you will leave for your village soon after.” _Mark sighed and did as he was told… “Maybe I should’ve done that in the first place.”, he thought. No… despite Ben losing his arm, if they would’ve retreated, more would’ve died… They took the camp, sure enough, none escaped, so the other groups couldn’t be warned. If they had retreated, every other encampment would know they were discovered. He cursed those bloody Lords and their bloody wars. Coming to the crossroads, he looked around. There was the road he once walked down, he hadn’t walked down in the past two years. The road home… But he didn’t walk down the road. He turned the other way. “Away from these wars between humans, these Lords, far away…”_
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  The Story of Ponce LaRue
  • PedjtOfValar

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  A Dark Request Ponce smiled as he saw Lucidious walking down the path from Jiyyd. He greeted his friend, and after the normal exchange of pleasantries, they agreed to do a normal patrol to the southern gate of Norwick. A calm, uneventful trip, just the way that Ponce likes it, and they had arrive to the glowing, familiar gates of Norwick. When they reached the other end of the city, Lucidious waved down a young woman standing on the ramparts of the city walls. He addressed her as 'Shay' and they seemed to have been previously acquainted. She spoke to Lucidious for a short while about the resurrection of people, and she asked if he could have a body resurrected by a strong priest he was acquainted with. He agreed, and accepted the gold that was to be paid to the priest. Ponce soon realized that a woman, who he would later come to know as being named Raisa, had joined the small gathering, apparently also an acquaintance of Lucidious and this Shay individual. Shay told Lucidious to follow her out to the forest to show him the body. Raisa followed, and being a man who was always interested in the higher arts of the divine, Ponce chose to tag along as well. It was about the time that the woman dashed out alone into the western reaches of the forest, unarmed and without proper protection, that Ponce realized what her intentions were. The Raisa woman realized this even faster and was on Shay's trail before Ponce, leaving Lucidious gawking at the scene. They crashed into the forest, making their way through the dense undergrowth, the shadow of Shay bouncing about in front of them. Ponce could hear her making all sorts of noise, intentionally attracting the attention of a small host of goblins, which was soon between her and Raisa in a long race to an unknown destination. Lucidious had caught on to Shay's suicidal intentions, and had managed to catch up with the rest of the party. When Shay finally stopped, she began to fight the horde goblins with what she had, but it was clear she was not trying to win, as hardened goblin soldiers began to surround her. Fuming at the madness this woman was displaying, Ponce began to release volley after volly of crossbow bolts and rays of searing light, as Lucidious did the same and Raise hacked her way through the goblins. The three of them together managed to make their way through the ranks, breaking them entirely, and found Shay with her back to the trees, still wounded from the experience. Many wails and cries of confusion and desperation were thrown at the seemingly mad Shay as she backed away from the group. Ponce managed to cure her wounds, and just as it seemed she would come back to Norwick, she tore off again, leaving the three of them to grapple with their amazement. They were not able to track Shay this time, and after much depressing talk, they chose to split up to try to find her, or her body. Ponce sputtered, but finally agreed to travel to Jiyyd to see if that is where she went. As he suspected, the woman was not to be found there, and he made his way back to Norwick, as was agreed. He arrived to find Raisa waiting there, but Lucidious was nowhere to be found. They waited, for hours they waited, and still Lucidious did not make an appearance. Ponce began to worry, and since Lucidious's absence was highly extended, Raisa dispatched a bird, perhaps her familiar, to scout him out. It returned on the western horizon, and they made their way to the western end of the Rawls. The scene that followed was disturbing. A bloodied and grave Lucidious stood away to the side, in the shadows, as an equally bloodied Shay flailed hopelessly in a mass of goblins. Lucidious cried out to Raisa and Ponce to hold back, but his words fell on deaf ears as the two sprung into action, though they may have known there would be no saving her this time. By the time they had worked there way to Shay, Ponce's healing enchantments fell helplessly on a lifeless body. Confusion and anger swelled up in Ponce's mind as he sared down at the body, while Lucidious collected it up, and began to carry it back to Norwick. Raisa solemnly collected up the fallen woman's possessions, and turned to return to Norwick. Ponce blinked at this mechanical demeanour, unusual and unexpected from Lucidious. As it would turn out, the woman, Shay, was supposedly possessed, an the only freedom was death, followed by a short period in the Fugue, and then resurrection. These words washed coldly over Ponce as he waited alone in the chapel of Norwick for the priests to arrive and take the body. When they left, he immediately found himself a table, and began to write a letter…
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  ChatLog: Why dice provides humor.
  • Maverick_tO

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  ((LOL.))
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  Lilin
  • losl

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  Surrogate, Part 5 Sunlight filtered through the curtains of the window of the small room, making pastel yellows fall on the objects littered throughout… black armor, a ratty looking plain cloak, sleek shoes, a pretty bow laid flat on the dresser. A bag with various supplies was stacked in the corner, with the tips of arrows sticking out. The figure of a young woman lay in the bed, on her stomach, her hair light blonde fanned out like a hood across her naked back, her body draped in white sheets, her eyes closed, though she was awake, she gave the distinct impression of someone with a sore back. Somewhere outside her door, a cat mewled loudly, someone stopped to let to let the cat into her room, peek in briefly before shutting it quitely. The grey cat padded softly across the floor and hopped up on to the bed. The woman gave a muffled greeting into the pillow and the cat continued carefully across the big bed, checking each step carefully before putting its weight on its paw, it crept smoothly across the bed, stepped softly on to the woman's back. "owwww," she moaned, "You can't stand there Elz!" The cat hopped back off and circled around to her face, rubbing up against it with her own before sitting down an arm's length away for optimal petting. She stroked the cat softly and it purred, they laid there lazily for another hour or so before pushing herself off and sliding off the bed, still keeping the sheet draped around her, collecting a mirror off the dresser and standing facing the opposite direction as another mirror, so she could see her back. She checked all along her lower back for scars but found only fading bruising, She swept away her hair and nearly dropped the mirror. She stepped closer to the mirror to get a closer look. There, ever so faintly across the back of her shoulders to just a small dip between her shoulder blades and up the back of her neck a very short ways were rosettes. The cat sat and watched with unblinking eyes as the woman traced her hand across her spots, seeing her expression of fear and disbelief. She set the mirror back down on the dresser then set next to the cat on the bed, rubbing her face and sighing. Elz stood and stretched, then rubbed her head against her bare side, purring. She stroked the cat and rubbed her eyes, then laid back down Lilin covered her spots.
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  Diary of Old Scars
  • aeolderr

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  Something strange happened today, I met the woman named Ocean, and she almost acted as if she hated me. Every question was met with a cold remark, and she told me I shouldn't be here, because Lilly was happy dead. Whether this is true or not, I don't know, but if her hatred of me is enough to tell, she loved Lilly very much. Strangely, her and Eowiel fought over me. Eowiel berating her because she wasn't happy to see me. Ocean nearly left in a boat because of it, I hope she doesn't. I don't want to cause trouble, I just want to know who I am, what I'm supposed to be, and why I'm here. Then, the really strange part happened. I was sitting outside the college, why I'm unsure, but Ocean came back. She sat, and we talked for a few moments. She wasn't much more helpful, but was rather cold to me. Still, I felt a connection to her, she is important, I know she is. My dream told me she was, and her eyes..her eyes are so familiar, I don't know why I didn't notice them when she was playing in the commons. More so than that though, I felt an anger boiling in me. I've never felt it before, a simmering rage just beneath the surface, yet it was more than anger. Could this rage be something important? I suppressed it, I was scared, but..I felt as if I should have screamed at her. Screamed, "I am Lilly Laer" but now I wonder why I felt that? What I have to wonder, was if it was me that wanted to scream it, or Lilly Laer.
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  Remnant Aura - The Prestory
  • Linah

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  1373
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  &quot;The End&quot;...all stories come to a close
  • Zyphlin

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  Yeah fantastic story, detailed, concise, and very humourous too.
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  Tales of a mercenary
  • szeltolo

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