EZ_Minz
06-14-00, 10:13 AM
The sun shon over the new morning. Birds flitted in and out of the tree like any other day. She approached the cottage alone. A lone hooded figure carring a large satchel. A gaurd challenged her at the gate.
"Master Azzwyp sees no one today," the pallidan commanded in a voice heavy with threat.
"He will see his sister," She replied. As she did fire lit her eyes from under the hood. The pallidan was overmatched an he knew it. He stepped aside simply saying, "you will find him in the chaple." In the shadows of her hooded cloak she smiled sinisterly.
The chaple was simple. A small quite building in a wooded glen. Three rows of solid wooden pews faced a simple alter. Kneeling in the first row, a man dressed in gleeming armor prayed in earnest. A holy warrior dressed for battle, yet his scabard was bare and his eyes rimmed red from figting tears. A battle he continued to lose.
On the alter a casket lay. Flowers adornded the lid. Oddly adding merry color to the forlorn scene.
"Callindril," she cried as she entered the chaple. "Ohh Cal!" She had removed her cloak and now wore a face of sympathy. Tears welling in her eyes. "How do you hold up brother?"
"Mephisa, I had not expected to see you." The warrior stiffened visably as Mephisa enterd the chapel.
"Ohh brother, let us put aside our differences now. Our spats cannot stand between us now. Can they?" she pleaded. "Let us bear this loss as a family should: togather."
Cal's shoulders slumped, and tears once more rolled down his face. "Who could do this?" he sobbed. "Why my love? Ohh, why not take meee? Ohhh, I'd give anything . . . I'd have handed him everything, just to leave Lela alone. Oh Lela."
Mephisa pulled her brother into her arms. Cal sobbed uncontrolably into his sisters shoulder.
Minz sat in the bar. Dawn had come some time ago and yet he continued to order drink after drink. He had found the worst spot in Freeport, determined to puish himself for his ill actions.
His fair face no looked forlorn. Eyes that once held mirth, now looked hollow. Hands shook as the brought tankard after tankard to his lips.
"Doncha think yu'v had enough lad?," the bar keep asked. "I have a spare room upstairs, you're welcome to it."
A snarl formed on Minz's face as he sluured togather the only sentence he'd spoken all night: "brin mee anoter."
Cal and Mephisa sat in the glen outside the chapel. "The fresh air shall do you good." she had said coaxingly. "And I have somthing to show you."
Mephisa opened her bag, revealing a fine etched ivory box. Cal's eyes widened.
"Where . . . How . . " he sputtered.
"Oh Cal, you really do not want to know. But do not get your hopes up." For she opened the box, and where the glow of a flaming sword should have been only dull metal lay. The firey sword lay broken in two. Cal looked at the sword he had once wielded blankly. Nothing could harm him any more. He was numb to the world.
Saying nothing of it, Mephisa also produce several sheets of parchment. On them was drawn the a face. Young, probably no more than 19. A thin mustache lay on smooth lips. Slightly pointed ears indicated that the youth was a half elf. High cheek bone. Thin eyes.
"What is this sister, you bring me art?" the palidan asked, clearly not concieveing of what she held.
"This is the villan who held your sword," Mephisa hissed.
Rage boiled to the surface of Cal's face. Fury bubled up in his eyes as surly as sulphur bubbled in lava.
"RASK!!" Cal bellowed. And pallidan came at full run, sword drawn, clearly expecting the worst. Seeing nothing but Calindril and his sister, he sheathed his sword and saluted his master. Cal thrust the parchment at his luitenant. "Bring him to me," Cal rasped. "Place what reward you will on his head."
"Aye," Rask said. Saluted and then ran off.
Minz had run out of copper some time ago, and mearly sat sullenly at the bar. The sun had risen high and the bar held more patrons that earlier. He had sat in this same seat for nearly 12 hours.
The door bust open and several gleeming sets of armor hurried in. Minz recognized the immediatly, as they did he. The palidan gaurds.
Minz bolted from his stool. and sprinted to the rear exit. Sword unsheathed, thegaurds gave chase, hindered only by the patrons of the bar.
Minz slammed out the door into the alley, knocking a frail looking beggar into the adjacent wall. Blood trickled down the beggar's face as he yowled in pain.
Spriniting into the street, he headed toward the crowded market place. 'I'll lose them there.' he thought.
But as he rounded the corner another gaurd was nailing parchent to the enterance. It was HIS face on the parchment. Minz darted into another alley. The gaurds ran by, picking up their commrad at the market gate. Minz dove into a pile of trash and faded into the shadows. Several hours and severeal gaurds passed before he emerged from his filthy refuge.
Walking among the shadows, as Lythe had taught him so long ago, he inched toward the mouth of the alley. 'Clear for the moment.' An old man was the only denizen of Freeport populating this byway.
Minz stepped out and headed toward the gate. Rounding the corner, he actually bumped into a young man, no older than himself. The youth gasped, as he looked from Minz's face to the post on the wall and back.
"Bloody hell," Minz blurted out as he burried his blade deep into the boys belly. The boy slumped and Minz lowered him gently to the ground. Some one nearby gasped, and Minz took off running.
Breaching the gates he headed to the Commonlands and safety . Hopefully.
Minz Elandril
Jester of the Order of the Elder Dragons
*Wooosh*
"Hey was that just Minz?"
Runner of the Hills
"Master Azzwyp sees no one today," the pallidan commanded in a voice heavy with threat.
"He will see his sister," She replied. As she did fire lit her eyes from under the hood. The pallidan was overmatched an he knew it. He stepped aside simply saying, "you will find him in the chaple." In the shadows of her hooded cloak she smiled sinisterly.
The chaple was simple. A small quite building in a wooded glen. Three rows of solid wooden pews faced a simple alter. Kneeling in the first row, a man dressed in gleeming armor prayed in earnest. A holy warrior dressed for battle, yet his scabard was bare and his eyes rimmed red from figting tears. A battle he continued to lose.
On the alter a casket lay. Flowers adornded the lid. Oddly adding merry color to the forlorn scene.
"Callindril," she cried as she entered the chaple. "Ohh Cal!" She had removed her cloak and now wore a face of sympathy. Tears welling in her eyes. "How do you hold up brother?"
"Mephisa, I had not expected to see you." The warrior stiffened visably as Mephisa enterd the chapel.
"Ohh brother, let us put aside our differences now. Our spats cannot stand between us now. Can they?" she pleaded. "Let us bear this loss as a family should: togather."
Cal's shoulders slumped, and tears once more rolled down his face. "Who could do this?" he sobbed. "Why my love? Ohh, why not take meee? Ohhh, I'd give anything . . . I'd have handed him everything, just to leave Lela alone. Oh Lela."
Mephisa pulled her brother into her arms. Cal sobbed uncontrolably into his sisters shoulder.
Minz sat in the bar. Dawn had come some time ago and yet he continued to order drink after drink. He had found the worst spot in Freeport, determined to puish himself for his ill actions.
His fair face no looked forlorn. Eyes that once held mirth, now looked hollow. Hands shook as the brought tankard after tankard to his lips.
"Doncha think yu'v had enough lad?," the bar keep asked. "I have a spare room upstairs, you're welcome to it."
A snarl formed on Minz's face as he sluured togather the only sentence he'd spoken all night: "brin mee anoter."
Cal and Mephisa sat in the glen outside the chapel. "The fresh air shall do you good." she had said coaxingly. "And I have somthing to show you."
Mephisa opened her bag, revealing a fine etched ivory box. Cal's eyes widened.
"Where . . . How . . " he sputtered.
"Oh Cal, you really do not want to know. But do not get your hopes up." For she opened the box, and where the glow of a flaming sword should have been only dull metal lay. The firey sword lay broken in two. Cal looked at the sword he had once wielded blankly. Nothing could harm him any more. He was numb to the world.
Saying nothing of it, Mephisa also produce several sheets of parchment. On them was drawn the a face. Young, probably no more than 19. A thin mustache lay on smooth lips. Slightly pointed ears indicated that the youth was a half elf. High cheek bone. Thin eyes.
"What is this sister, you bring me art?" the palidan asked, clearly not concieveing of what she held.
"This is the villan who held your sword," Mephisa hissed.
Rage boiled to the surface of Cal's face. Fury bubled up in his eyes as surly as sulphur bubbled in lava.
"RASK!!" Cal bellowed. And pallidan came at full run, sword drawn, clearly expecting the worst. Seeing nothing but Calindril and his sister, he sheathed his sword and saluted his master. Cal thrust the parchment at his luitenant. "Bring him to me," Cal rasped. "Place what reward you will on his head."
"Aye," Rask said. Saluted and then ran off.
Minz had run out of copper some time ago, and mearly sat sullenly at the bar. The sun had risen high and the bar held more patrons that earlier. He had sat in this same seat for nearly 12 hours.
The door bust open and several gleeming sets of armor hurried in. Minz recognized the immediatly, as they did he. The palidan gaurds.
Minz bolted from his stool. and sprinted to the rear exit. Sword unsheathed, thegaurds gave chase, hindered only by the patrons of the bar.
Minz slammed out the door into the alley, knocking a frail looking beggar into the adjacent wall. Blood trickled down the beggar's face as he yowled in pain.
Spriniting into the street, he headed toward the crowded market place. 'I'll lose them there.' he thought.
But as he rounded the corner another gaurd was nailing parchent to the enterance. It was HIS face on the parchment. Minz darted into another alley. The gaurds ran by, picking up their commrad at the market gate. Minz dove into a pile of trash and faded into the shadows. Several hours and severeal gaurds passed before he emerged from his filthy refuge.
Walking among the shadows, as Lythe had taught him so long ago, he inched toward the mouth of the alley. 'Clear for the moment.' An old man was the only denizen of Freeport populating this byway.
Minz stepped out and headed toward the gate. Rounding the corner, he actually bumped into a young man, no older than himself. The youth gasped, as he looked from Minz's face to the post on the wall and back.
"Bloody hell," Minz blurted out as he burried his blade deep into the boys belly. The boy slumped and Minz lowered him gently to the ground. Some one nearby gasped, and Minz took off running.
Breaching the gates he headed to the Commonlands and safety . Hopefully.
Minz Elandril
Jester of the Order of the Elder Dragons
*Wooosh*
"Hey was that just Minz?"
Runner of the Hills