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The Travelers - ** 3 of 5 Chapters Up **


Zibl

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My story. I've been writing it for about a 3 weeks now, not putting TOO much effort into it. Some of it may be confusing, and some of it may not make sense... please don't ponder on it too much. It's mostly straight forward but there are something things in there (mostly inside jokes to myself :oops: ) that you may not get. The story isn't finished. I've planned to split it up into 5 chapters to make things easier (for me anyways). So if I stop at a wierd point in the story... don't worry, the next chapter SHOULD be along shortly. I'm nearly done with Chapter 3, in which I'll add as soon as I'm finished (which will probably be tomorrow). After that, I should finish the story pretty quickly. I'm looking at getting up a chapter every other day. Welp, here we go!

 

 

 

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~~~~~~ Chapter One = 12,100+ characters long.

 

 

 

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Vera was hurled into the riverwall. The rough edges of the bricks gouged her back and her head glanced off the paving. Her eyes jerked, out of focus; spots darkened her eyes. She panted for air. Vera tried to push herself back toward the fight, but her knees buckled and she sagged down onto the stone of the street.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Across from her, she could see the outline of Sorrow's body underneath her disguise, an uncertain mass of dark Jendarthi clergy robes. Between them stood the mage, made taller by the spell he had just cast. His eyes, what she could see of them underneath the hood of his cloak, were dilated and bloodshot. He's on something, harri? He must be. We hit him and hit him; he seems to feel nothing.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The mage turned away from her, toward Sorrow, who was not moving. Vera cursed quietly in her own tongue, then thrust out her hand with a grunt. Arcnon would hardly call it a spell, she thought wryly as the mage's own cloak wrapped itself around him. But I don't have the energy for much else. He tipped to the side with a howl but did not fall.

 

 

 

Vera's side burned as she struggled to stand. "Sorrow! Move!" she shouted weakly.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The pile of fabric twitched with a groan. Sorrow's head emerged from the robes. The head scarf of the _mÃÆÃâÃâókmol_ had pulled loose, and Vera could see her pale face, crowded with familiar scars. She looked dazed.

 

 

 

The mage shouted again, and the cloak unscrambled itself. Sorrow's eyes widened, and she tried to scuttle back, crab-like, but the mage thrust out a hand, each finger splayed, his power crushing her to the ground. Vera could hear a wheeze in each breath Sorrow took as she tried to force air into her lungs.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Vera found her feet and stumbled forward. Drained as she was, she did not attempt a spell. Instead, she let her momentum carry her into the mage's back. They went down together, but Vera heard the snap as his spell was broken.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The mage growled, incoherent, and rolled on top of her. His fingers found her throat. Vera struggled against his wrists, but something made him stronger. His weight pressed into her. She tried to speak, to summon her power, but no sound emerged. Her tongue felt thick, swollen. Darkness blotted her vision.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The spring of Sorrow's bow at close range sounded almost musical. The mage fell against Vera, heavier than ever, but his fingers loosened their hold. She pushed against him, her arms still tingling and weak.

 

 

 

The weight suddenly lessened as the mage's body was rolled off her own. She closed her eyes, gasping. Her body felt light, unworldly. She couldn't speak, couldn't even form the thoughts that might become words.

 

 

 

"Vera." Sorrow's voice was close.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

She opened her eyes. Sorrow hovered like a bird, her white hair damp with sweat, blood oozing generously from a gash on her temple. Vera tried to thank her, but all that emerged was a croak.

 

 

 

Sorrow smiled painfully, then pulled Vera into a sitting position. She fumbled at her robes, fishing around for a long minute before, with a triumphant grunt, she pulled free a waterskin. Uncorking it, she tipped it toward Vera.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Vera swallowed, her throat sore. A short distance away, she saw the dark cloak of the mage twitch.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sorrow saw it too. She stood quickly and edged toward him, prodding his body with her boot. He groaned.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Vera could see Sorrow's arrow lodged solidly in the man's arm. Sorrow would not have missed a more vital spot, and certainly not at that range. "You didn't kill him?" she managed hoarsely.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sorrow pulled out her dagger, cut loose her arrow from the muscle below his left shoulder. Blood spurted and the mage groaned again. Using the dagger like a knife, she cut a strip from the man's own cloak, pulled it tight above the wound and tied it. The bleeding slowed. "You told me not to," she replied, her voice low and accusing.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"That was," Vera coughed, "before he almost killed us both, harri?"

 

 

 

Sorrow forced out a laugh. "Well, he's yours, then."

 

 

 

Vera winced. Even thinking hurt. She pressed her brown hands to her temples. She and Sorrow had literally bumped into this fight on their way back from concluding the business that had brought them to Jendarth. In a heartbeat, it was as if the streets were in riot. I did not realize at first that we were dealing with only one man.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sorrow rolled the mage onto his back, pulled back his hood. Even from her angle, Vera could tell that he was Jendarthi. His long hair was pulled into a dozen braids, solid black stripes against the dilute brown of his neck. He groaned again, a terrible sound, long and deep. She could see his hands curl, then clench.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Be careful," Vera warned, but Sorrow already had taken a step back. She pulled out her bow and moved the bloody arrow she had removed from the mage to rest loosely the bowstring.

 

 

 

Vera got to her feet, her whole body protesting. She swayed, dizzy, but the moment passed and her head cleared. She swallowed again, fighting down a wave of nausea that followed.

 

 

 

A noise brought her attention back to the mage. His eyes were open; his mouth gaped. Vera limped closer. "We mean you no harm," she began to say, but the rest of the sentence died on her lips.

 

 

 

The mage stretched backward, his neck curved as if it might break, his legs jerking wildly. His arms pounded against the hard street, drawing blood. Foam reached the corner of his lips, and a moan like that of a dying animal crept from his throat.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sorrow jerked back as if bitten, her eyes wide. "Vera?" she looked over, and there was a note of panic in her voice.

 

 

 

Vera understood the reason, but she didn't have time to comfort Sorrow. This--Pashtar bless, I don't understand. She knelt by the man's head, tried to steady it between her hands. The thrashing intensified for a second, his body held rigid, his back arched, not even touching the street. He groaned again. Then he fell silent.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sorrow joined her at his side, her fingers reaching for his pulse. Her voice caught. "He's--gods. Vera, he's dead."

 

 

 

Vera didn't reply. She searched the man's face, lo oking for answers.

 

 

 

"Vera?" Sorrow touched her shoulder. "What is it?"

 

 

 

"I know him," Vera said heavily. "Pashtar bless--his name was Cinel Orwin. He was a Traveler, a member of my order."

 

 

 

"The Path?" Sorrow asked, surprised.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

She nodded. "I have not seen him in years. The Travelers--they are," Vera frowned. "They are trained mages of the Path--of my school, harri? --but they have yet to take their place as full members of the order. We give them time to see the world. Some take a year or two; others, decades." She swallowed. "He has been away for some time."

 

 

 

"You aren't a Traveler, then?" Sorrow wondered. "I had thought--I mean, Loressa told me that she was one, and I assumed--"

 

 

 

Vera's breath caught. Too close. I must be more careful.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Before Vera could answer, Sorrow hissed. "We have company," she explained curtly, reaching for her face scarf and winding the mÃÆÃâÃâókmol deftly around her head.

 

 

 

The street had cleared when the mage's rampage began. They were in a quiet section of the Facing Cities. This close to the river, at least on the Jendarthi side, many roads turned a corner to dead-end against the back of the riverwall or a warehouse. They had driven the mage this way on purpose, to trap him.

 

 

 

And now we ourselves may be trapped, Vera thought as she saw the Laeshor, the Jendarthi police, turn the corner.

 

 

 

"Let's go," Sorrow stood, then turned back when Vera didn't immediately follow.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Why? Why did he do this? Her eyes sought Cinel's, as if for answers. None came. She sighed, reached underneath his cloak, and pulled out the neck pouch most Travelers wore to secure their important possessions. She pressed a hand against his chest for a moment, closed her eyes. Pashtar bless you. Inoli nÃÆÃâÃâáeta. May you find peace. She whispered the words with her mind, then opened her eyes.

 

 

 

"Hold!" the closest officer called in Vera's native Jendarthi. His dark blue uniform seemed almost black in the shadows between the tall buildings.

 

 

 

Vera stood. Sorrow was halfway to the wall. Her eyes, the only part of her face still visible, widened urgently.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"I said--Hold!" the officer repeated, this time in the Sundered Tongue.

 

 

 

Vera turned from him, and hurried after Sorrow, who had reached the corner where the riverwall met the corner of a building. There, in a recess not obvious from the street, was an entrance. Sorrow tried the handle, then backed up a step. She aimed a kick at the center of the door. The wood held and she stumbled back. Vera heard her muffled curse, "Gods above, Berk! I can't walk through walls!"

 

 

 

The name clutched at Vera's heart. So she still can see Berk. He must be guiding her. Berkis had been a scout for the Wolves for longer than Vera had been with them. When he had died, several moons back, Sorrow had confessed her secret to Vera.

 

 

 

"I've seen them, Vera. I keep seeing them. In dreams, mostly, but now--I see him, in waking day."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Berkis?"

 

 

 

Sorrow had nodded, then added in a whisper. "He's here, now, watching us. He never leaves me."

 

 

 

Vera reached the entrance and held her hand over the simple metal handle. The lock clicked, and she pulled open the door. Sorrow pushed her through the opening, then shut the door behind them, drawing the bolt quickly. A moment later, Vera heard the shout as the officers reached the other side.

 

 

 

"Open up!" The order was repeated in Jendarthi.

 

 

 

Sorrow turned around. "We don't have much time."

 

 

 

As if in answer to her words, the officers began pummeling the door with something heavy. The wood groaned.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

They were not in a building, as Vera had expected. This door led into a narrow alley, open to the sky, that ran between the building and the riverwall. Sorrow started forward, brushing past Vera, ignoring the door on her left that led into the building on the corner. Vera glanced up. Only a few windows. Probably a warehouse. I hope the Laeshor can't use the building to bypass the gate. A few paces farther, an archway stood to the right in the wall facing the river. Sorrow pulled back a bolt identical to the first, then pushed open the door.

 

 

 

Vera stopped, surprised. Stairs had been cut into the steep and rocky hill that led down to the Falling River. The Odogil, it is also called, at its valley source, deep in the mountains. River of seven stars. Afternoon light slanted over a small pier that jutted out into the thick, muddy water at the base of the stairs. Vera thought about what else originated in that valley and shuddered. The League of the Dark Star has their oldest temple there. How appropriate that what comes out of their land carries an odor like rotting fish. Her lip curled involuntarily.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Instead of heading for the river, Sorrow jumped a short wall, scrambling onto the rock, then held out her hand for Vera.

 

 

 

"Wait," Vera paused, then turned back, palm outward. With a click, the lock slid into place. She concentrated, and a moment later, followed Sorrow. The Laeshor will find that lock more difficult to open than they expected. Her eyes narrowed, determined.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sorrow caught her wrist, helping her up. Vera glanced around. They were halfway between two bridges, on a bend of the river that sheltered the small pier from view. Huh. I wonder what that is used for. Nothing official, I suspect. She had to look down, to watch the thin path Sorrow seemed to be following. The rocks fell off sharply to her right, and twice, as Vera's foot slipped, she imagined herself plummeting to the muddy depths. Trust Berkis to take us this way. He always preferred the more difficult path.

 

 

 

The trail ended at another door in the wall. Sorrow stood aside while Vera held her hand against the lock. She grunted; the bolt finally slid back. That took more effort than I expected. That fight took more out of me than I thought. They entered a walk space similar to the first, and at the end of it was a door that opened onto another dead-end street.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Pashtar bless," Sorrow breathed. "I give Berk highest marks for this one."

 

 

 

At the end of the block, where their street met a cross road, was the sign for the inn where they had left their gear.

RS Name: Zibl || Click Signature for my RS Life Story!

ziblretieredwarriorchicpc7.jpg

[ 87 Combat ] [ 1240 Total ] [ Ex-RSC Professional Merchant ]

12.20.01 - 10.5.05 || Status: Retired

Total losses in 5 years = just over 630 million gp (BILLIONS in today's prices)

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~~~~~Chapter 2 = 4,480+ characters long

 

 

 

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Sorrow pulled the Jendarthi robes over her head. "Gods, I hate these things. They're cumbersome, and they're hot, and I think you suggested them just to torment me." She retrieved her pack from under the bed in the room they had rented, stuffing the mÃÆÃâÃâókmol into it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"They wouldn't be hot if you didn't insist on wearing an Ithirian tunic underneath them," Vera replied absently, rubbing her neck. She could feel bruises rising, ten marks, one for each of Cinel's fingers. She had dumped out his neck pouch onto the threadbare bed linens. She ran her fingers through its contents.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sorrow picked up a rag and began wiping blood off first her dagger, then her arrow. "We should go, Vera. If the--what did you call them? Laeshor," she fumbled over the Jendarthi word, "discover the second door, they're sure to search this inn. I don't want to leave anything to fate."

 

 

 

Vera didn't answer. She had spotted what she had hoped she wouldn't find: a small dark vial full of a gray powder. She uncorked it and sniffed cautiously. Ellsroot.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"What's that?" Sorrow stopped cleaning the arrow.

 

 

 

"A drug," Vera said flatly, recorking the vial.

 

 

 

"Like chivvi?" Sorrow wondered.

 

 

 

"Chivvi?" Vera was surprised. Sorrow barely drank wine, and had come to the Wolves with little knowledge of Jendarthi customs, much less the slang terms for illegal drugs. She's not the type to use such things. "How do you--?"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Berk," Sorrow interrupted with a smile. "He told me about it, before he died." She looked up. "I think it was the punch line to one of his jokes, and I didn't get it." She shrugged. "He decided to educate me. Gods, that was a long trip."

 

 

 

Vera smiled, then sobered. "Do you see him often?"

 

 

 

Sorrow replaced the arrow in her quiver and sat down on the bed, the bloody rag still in her hands. "Not as much, now. He was always there, at first. But now--" she looked away. "Now I see him in dreams sometimes, and even less often as I did today, as a--" she shrugged. She seemed reluctant to use the word ghost. Her eyes grew distant. "He's always there if I need him, though. He's never let me down."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A quiet moment passed between them. "So," Vera held up the vial. "This is not chivvi. It's ellsroot. It doesn't work unless you're a mage." She shrugged. "Normally, it simply enhances the magic that is worked, gives heightened perceptions and awareness, but in Cinel's case, it did much more than that. I have never seen a mage's powers so distorted. It wasn't us, Sorrow, that killed him. It was the ellsroot, I'm sure of it."

 

 

 

"You think he just reacted badly to it?"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Perhaps." Vera looked down again, at the items from Cinel's pouch. She picked through the coins absently. A wooden token caught her eye; she reached for it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Vera?" Sorrow's voice had changed completely. She sounded drained. "Vera, I have to ask you something."

 

 

 

The mage jerked. "What is it?" she asked, forgetting about the token. Pashtar bless, I hope she doesn't return to the subject of my status among the Travelers. I was careless to have brought it up.

 

 

 

"Did I--" Sorrow stopped, grappling with the words. She turned the rag over in her hands, picked at a fraying edge. "Did I look like that--before?"

 

 

 

Vera felt relieved. She means the fits she used to have. I'm not surprised seeing Cinel disturbed her."Yours were not so bad as that," she evaded. Most of the time, she added silently to herself.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"I didn't know," she whispered. "I didn't realize what I looked like, during--" she trailed off.

 

 

 

"Don't let it bother you, Sorrow. The Wolflord understood."

 

 

 

Her eyes snapped up sharply, then dodged back down to the rag. "The Wolflord," Sorrow repeated Vera's words. Her jaw worked for a moment, and when she continued, her voice sounded normal again. "And speaking of the Wolflord, we should be leaving. This inn isn't safe, and we completed the mission before the--" she paused, fumbling for a word, "the distraction." She tapped a small cylinder at her hip suggestively. It held the documents they had intercepted.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Perhaps, yes," Vera agreed. Her eyes narrowed in thought. Sorrow sounded agitated when I mentioned the Wolflord. I suppose we each have our own concerns with him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Pushing aside her musings, Vera reached to sweep the items back into the neck pouch. She noticed the token again, wooden, larger than the coin. She picked it up. On one side was etched a design. It looks like a starfish. This must be a tavernmark. Her lips narrowed again. They use these for gambling. She rolled the piece over in her hands, then came to a decision. "We'll never get through the tradestops to Ithiria before dark. I think we should find a place to sleep on this side of the river."

 

 

 

"Did you have some place in mind?" Sorrow asked.

 

 

 

Vera traced her finger over the image of the starfish. "I might."

RS Name: Zibl || Click Signature for my RS Life Story!

ziblretieredwarriorchicpc7.jpg

[ 87 Combat ] [ 1240 Total ] [ Ex-RSC Professional Merchant ]

12.20.01 - 10.5.05 || Status: Retired

Total losses in 5 years = just over 630 million gp (BILLIONS in today's prices)

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Chapter 3 = 5,945+ characters long

 

 

 

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Vera paused beneath the wooden sign. This starfish was better carved than the one on the token, but the two matched well enough. Noise and light spilled out of the busy tavern onto the street.

 

 

 

Sorrow wrinkled her nose. "You must be joking. We'll never get any sleep here."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The mage held the door open. "Perhaps I am not looking for sleep."

 

 

 

"I don't like crowds, either," Sorrow started to protest, then looked thoughtful. She pulled her hood further over her face and walked ahead. "You found something. In that pouch," she said quietly.

 

 

 

Vera only nodded. She had pulled up her own hood as well, on the theory that if she could trace Cinel here, so could the Laeshor. The tavern was loud, and crowded indeed. Shouts and laughter competed for dominance. The air clung with smoke, some of it from the fire, the rest from cloying censors spaced around the large room. As they skirted a barmaid balancing ale on a tray, Sorrow winced a little, her hand rubbing her eyes. She headed directly for the darkest corner in the place.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Slow down," Vera put a hand out to catch her arm. "Let me look from here for a minute." She scanned the room carefully, systematically, her eyes lingering on each face as she went. Cinel had a good friend; they were always together. What was his name? He had a mark on his face, an old burn. She paused over two men dicing, then panned to the left.

 

 

 

That's him. She recognized the young man and started forward. His name returned, now that she could see him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Laeshor," Sorrow warned in a low voice.

 

 

 

Vera stopped cold, her eyes darting around. Sorrow thrust her chin to the side, indicating two men in uniforms by the bar. They were talking to the innkeeper. But they are not watching the room.

 

 

 

She took that slim opportunity. Vera moved forward quickly, slipping between tables. The young Traveler looked up as she neared the table. He seemed to realize she was coming for him and stood, a look of fear in his eyes.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Prevni, I need to speak with you. It's about Cinel."

 

 

 

Prevni's eyes widened. "Lady Ver--"

 

 

 

She made a hushing sound. "Not here." She indicated the Laeshor at the bar. "Upstairs. Do you have a room?"

 

 

 

He nodded, and led the way. One of the _Laeshor_ glanced over but turned back to the bar after a moment. Vera exhaled, continuing up the stairs. Prevni's room was on the third story, toward the back, and he opened the door for them.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Once he had shut it, Sorrow spoke. "How long do we have?"

 

 

 

Vera pushed back her hood, considering. "Less than a quarterglass, I expect. Prevni, was it generally known that you and Cinel were friends?"

 

 

 

He nodded assent. "My lady, what is this about? I hardly think a little gambling warrants a visit from one of the Sc--"

 

 

 

Vera held up her hand, aware of Sorrow's sudden interest. My place in the Path is my own secret among the Wolves. I trust Sorrow, but I don't want to take any chances that this might get back to the Wolflord.

 

 

 

"You and Cinel were into more than gambling." She met his eyes. "Where did he get the ellsroot, Prevni?"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Prevni scoffed. "Oh, come. A little ellsroot? That's what this is about?"

 

 

 

"Cinel's dead, Prevni."

 

 

 

"What?" He stopped, holding perfectly still as if he couldn't believe her words. "You aren't serious, are you?" he finally asked. There was vulnerability in his voice, pain inside denial.

 

 

 

Vera held his gaze, but her eyes softened. "I know you and he have been friends for a long time--"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Oh gods," he sat heavily on the bed, hands to his eyes. "No--no, there must be some mistake."

 

 

 

"I saw him, harri? I saw him with my own eyes. Prevni, listen to me. He was on something. I think it was ellsroot. I think it killed him. Tell me, where did he get it?"

 

 

 

Prevni cried silently. Vera could see the bright tracks of tears on his cheeks. "Impossible," he said, his voice tight. "He's used it before, many times. He's careful."

 

 

 

"He might have used too much."

 

 

 

"No!" Prevni practically shouted. He seemed to startle himself with the pitch of his voice and continued more quietly. "No. Lady Vera, he measured it every time. And he never took any without me." His voice quieted further. "He was going to get a new shipment today."

 

 

 

"Who?" Vera asked in a hard tone. "Where?"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Prevni looked up. "I don't know--Goer, I think the name was. Down by the river." His mouth twisted. "They have a warehouse. I guess they must smuggle it in by water, at night."

 

 

 

Sorrow's eyes met Vera's. They exchanged understanding. Vera turned back to Prevni. "Listen to me carefully--did he bring you any?"

 

 

 

The younger man hesitated, then reached underneath his tunic. He upended the pouch and held out a vial identical to the one Vera had found on Cinel. She took it from him and glanced at the contents. "Huh. Looks the same. This," she held up the vial, "is no longer yours. When the Laeshor come to question you, you are not to tell them anything of our visit, nor of the source of the Ellsroot."

 

 

 

"Why would Laeshor question me?"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Because you knew Cinel, and they may believe him murdered. They are downstairs as we speak," Vera explained.

 

 

 

"Did they see you? What if they did--what do I tell them?"

 

 

 

"Tell them we were women of dubious virtue, that you couldn't afford us. That you don't know where we went," she said flatly.

 

 

 

Sorrow suppressed a giggle, and Vera glared at her. "Do I have your full cooperation?" she asked, focusing on the Traveler again.

 

 

 

Prevni hesitated, then nodded. "Of course, Lady Vera."

 

 

 

"You are not to touch ellsroot," Vera indicated the vial, "ever again, harri? Unless you want to wind up as dead as Cinel."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He blanched. "Clear as water, Lady Vera."

 

 

 

"Good." She knew her words were hard, hated it, but realized that it was necessary. "You will report Cinel's death to Lady Ureena at your earliest opportunity, as I cannot do so."

 

 

 

Prevni's eyes fell to the floor. "Of course."

 

 

 

"Your sadness is mine as well," Vera said formally, in Jendarthi. "I am sorry that he is dead, harri?"

 

 

 

"Harri," he replied.

RS Name: Zibl || Click Signature for my RS Life Story!

ziblretieredwarriorchicpc7.jpg

[ 87 Combat ] [ 1240 Total ] [ Ex-RSC Professional Merchant ]

12.20.01 - 10.5.05 || Status: Retired

Total losses in 5 years = just over 630 million gp (BILLIONS in today's prices)

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----- Reserved Chapter 4 -----

RS Name: Zibl || Click Signature for my RS Life Story!

ziblretieredwarriorchicpc7.jpg

[ 87 Combat ] [ 1240 Total ] [ Ex-RSC Professional Merchant ]

12.20.01 - 10.5.05 || Status: Retired

Total losses in 5 years = just over 630 million gp (BILLIONS in today's prices)

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----- Reserved Chapter 5 -----

RS Name: Zibl || Click Signature for my RS Life Story!

ziblretieredwarriorchicpc7.jpg

[ 87 Combat ] [ 1240 Total ] [ Ex-RSC Professional Merchant ]

12.20.01 - 10.5.05 || Status: Retired

Total losses in 5 years = just over 630 million gp (BILLIONS in today's prices)

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Chapter 2 is up. Bout 2/5 through Chapter 3. Gee, only 10 or so views and no replies (about 6 of the views is mine)? Makes me sad :cry: .

RS Name: Zibl || Click Signature for my RS Life Story!

ziblretieredwarriorchicpc7.jpg

[ 87 Combat ] [ 1240 Total ] [ Ex-RSC Professional Merchant ]

12.20.01 - 10.5.05 || Status: Retired

Total losses in 5 years = just over 630 million gp (BILLIONS in today's prices)

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Good story, I like the suspense, though I am wondering if we're allowed to know anything about the main characters.

Pm me if you need anything proof-read, I may not be very good, but I am always willing to help.

A Seal Clubber is me!

A Oxygenarin is me!

6*9=42

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I don't know much about them either... :lol: . What I mean by this, is it isn't like a normal story. Basicly it is just a short story with action in it. I didn't feel like taking the time (or thought) into making a long story with deep secrets and pasts about all the characters in it and all that good stuff.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It is basicly a fun, quick, action story based in a time long ago (back when there were wizards and archers that roamed the land). That kinda stuff. :? .

RS Name: Zibl || Click Signature for my RS Life Story!

ziblretieredwarriorchicpc7.jpg

[ 87 Combat ] [ 1240 Total ] [ Ex-RSC Professional Merchant ]

12.20.01 - 10.5.05 || Status: Retired

Total losses in 5 years = just over 630 million gp (BILLIONS in today's prices)

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Third Chapter up. I'm getting the feeling my story isn't too interesting, but that's all good. I like it, and think I did pretty good on it being my frist story and all :P .

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

None-the-less, it shall all be finished and posted! I'm rapping up the 4th chapter (even as we speak.. or uh... I write), so it'll be up in an hour or so.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Enjoy! OR don't enjoy. Hell, Id on't care :wink: .

RS Name: Zibl || Click Signature for my RS Life Story!

ziblretieredwarriorchicpc7.jpg

[ 87 Combat ] [ 1240 Total ] [ Ex-RSC Professional Merchant ]

12.20.01 - 10.5.05 || Status: Retired

Total losses in 5 years = just over 630 million gp (BILLIONS in today's prices)

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