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| >> Campfire Creative >> Non-fiction >> Fantasy >> ID #1215547 |   |
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| [Introduction]
Five adventurers embark on a curious journey through the countryside of greater Aryndom to find an Oracle fabled to be hidden by magic. Background: The People of Aryndom fear for their lives. When the eminent threat of war from the land of Rothardiina, (a kingdom made up of over forty islands in the seas of the west) comes in the form of a single burning Hawk – The whole country shudders. Prophecies from over two hundred years ago had foretold that the burning Hawk would be the downfall of Aryndom. That slowly, the lands would be devoured by the Golden Boar. (The crest of Rothardiina). Other prophecies however divined about the same time also told of a circle warriors, whose remains slumbered amidst the maze of tunnels beneath the Holorum Mountains. These warriors when woken would protect each corner of Aryndom, and save it from the enemies of the land. Bring breath and soul to them once more, And Sword and staff they’ll take. Those whose hearts were borne into new chests, When returned to them shall wake. A strange group is chosen by the Head Wizard Andolon, King Tiodens chief visor. He says that these five will be sent to find the Oracle of Renn, who is secreted away in a forgotten temple, guarded by legend and creatures of old. There they will find the answers to the prophecies riddle and wake the Guardians of Aryndom. Other Info: Setting: Aryndom (a continent comprised of five counties each nearly a kingdom in itself) Wynmohr: A forest county, in the south. It is the Haven for the wealthy, educated, artists, and other refined members of Aryndoms populace. Most races live together in tenuous harmony. Elves are predominant. Bettryn: The desert county, located on the far east of the continent with beautiful beaches. A vacation spot for some, exile and hiding for others, famous for its burial tombs and magnificent monuments. Most races live in peace. Humans are predominant. Rydon: The mountain county, borders the Holorum mountains on the northern coast. This is a place of mystery. Full of mist and legend, most people steer clear. Inhabited by creatures of good and evil alike. A getaway and pondering point for sorcerers and magicians, as well as artists and adventurers. Most races come here, dwarves are dominant locals. Wertimohr: Largest county, located along the west coast -- w/ the most diverse landscape. Bustling ports along the ocean and many rivers, deciduous forests, large cities, farms in the southern tip, and extensive colleges and magic schools in the north. Most races pretend to get along here. No predominant race, mostly mixed. Mavendy: The hub county located in the center of Aryndom. Five rivers intersect here, forming the giant Ornlyn Lake. (…though some would consider it a sea.) Here a vast metropolis “Mavendy-on-wave” or “Mavendrea” is suspended above the lakes waters, while farms flourish in the rich delta between the intersecting five rivers. The city is a meeting place for all races, merchants, traders, craftsmen. Mavendrea is also the magic center of Aryndom hosting the best magic schools and you can find any spell/potion you might ever need there. Need I say there’s great shopping??? Ruler: Tioden (the fiery-haired Head-King of the five counties) Races: Human, Magiks (Humans w/ Magical powers. Not the same as a human b/c of the longer lifespan). Dwarf, Elf, Angels, Drakkon (Dragon/Human can transform into dragon) Language: For the sake of this story, in Aryndom there is a language exactly like English which everyone speaks. Lol. The other races did not develop here; they migrated here from their lands of origin, and have adopted the lands language as their own. (Much like immigrants to Ellis Island -- mostly) Characters: 1. Regan Leander Rookssolace   2. Mykal Styrke Deathly Hollows 3. Caliphar Durias jeremknight 4. Valeska Xadrian Rose Grey  5. Dougray Marrow thezero  Writers I will use this space to talk about important things, or maybe not so important things...so check and see if there's any updates b4 you make your addition. lol. Have Fun! We're over 100 views, keep it up guys, I get plenty of messages about how well people like he campfire!  Bio's Rookssolace Name: Regan Leander Age: 22 Race: Human Gender: Female County: Bettryn Skills: Expert rider (Has a great tawny colored stallion named “Rover”) and bowman. Trained as a desert scout, is also skilled at Hawking. (Has a Hawk named “Iola”). Magic: Not applicable Appearance: Regan is tall (5,10), lean and willowy. Her skin is a golden tan from living in the desert all of her life. Long sun-bleached blonde hair with natural almost cherub-like ringlets, and immense dark-chocolate eyes. Wears a long off-white dress with a light brown hooded cloak, dark brown leather knee-high boots, bow/quiver, and brown leather arm brace. Personality: Regan is a patient and observant individual. Hardworking and determined, there is little that she couldn’t accomplish if she put her mind to it. One of the best archers in all of Aryndom (or so she likes to think). People’s first impressions lean toward “cocky”, “zealous”, “trite”, and sometimes “rude”. She doesn’t waste time or words and can be overly terse but passionate about her endeavors and rarely late/unprepared. Background: Born in a small desert village in the cliffs of a deep cavern. Watched her twin brother fall to his death when she was young, dealing then with the depression and resulting abusive domestic atmosphere following. Taught to be hard at a young age. After she lost her parents, her uncle Serfon (her only living relative) began teaching her bowmanship, scouting and hawking when she was just fifteen. Was married when she was 20 in the city of Tallost, but it was loveless and so she left him to journey to the capital to make her fame. Little did she know it would be so easy…. Deathly Hollows Name: Mykal Styrke Age: 30 Race: Magik Gender: Male County: Rydon Skills: Has Staff combat skills from training as a Monk. Excellent bartering and communicating skills to get information from people. Magic: Some say he’s a Sorcery Prodigy. A practitioner of “Äkata Namn”. The art of controlling objects and elements by there root name. Appearance: Mykal dons a deep hooded chocolate brown monk robe, and a gold shining rope around his waist, that covers his slim athletic body. Around his neck hangs a gold Ahnk given to him from the monastery he spent time at. Worn leather sandals cover his feet from the long traveling he endures. Dark Brown Close cropped hair covers his head, but the pale bluish purple eyes surpass his facial features. Always caring his gnarled yew staff for protection and cause it looks cool. Personality: Very calm and collective mind. He is kind to people even if he has differences with them. Very persuasive. Spiritual due to living in a monastery. Knowledgeable and considered a natural leader. People see him as “trustworthy, admirable, and a teacher” Background: Born in Travon, a village in the county of Mavendy, he left when he was nineteen after a horrific tragedy. He then wandered Aryndom. After a nasty fall in the mountains in Rydon, he was discovered by monks, whom took him in. He resided at the monastery of the brotherhood of Äkata Namn where he discovered his magical talent and trained for several years in magic and staff combat. He leaves when he volunteers to deliver a text that the Wizard Andolon requested from the Brotherhood; unaware of the journey he will embark upon. jeremknight Name: Caliphar Race: Magik Age: 17 Gender: Male County: Mavendy Skills: 3 yrs of basic martial arts. Magic: Can cast spells through incantations, except for his telekinesis and transformation powers, can make potions too Appearance: Has a long silver cloak, sandals, carries a pouch of herbs and a pendant around his neck.he has light skin a broad face. Personality: Clever, impatient, sarcastic, optomistic, persuasive, loyal, independent, and slightly bossy. Background: Orphaned at birth, he had began developing powers rapidly, so the people he lived with forbid use of his powers. Late at night he studied magic in secret. when he was of age he became apprenticed by Galemorth. Rose Grey Name: Valeska Xadrian Age: 25 Race: Angel Gender: Female Country: Wertimohr Skills: She can fly and has slight knowledge of staff combat and is good at mixing up medicines. Magic: Her powers come from the Gods although because she is so young, she doesn’t have full access to all the powers that are offered to Angels by their governing God(s). Valeska is governed by the God of the Night, the Goddess of Dreams and the Goddess of Fire. Therefore all of her powers are related in someway to the ‘entity’ that her Governing Gods preside over. Appearance: Valeska stands to around 5’6” with long flowing curls of deep red hair that fall to her waist. Her eyes are a deep green, so much that they could be mistaken for black if the light doesn’t hit them the right way showing the green tint to them. She is slender and can appear fragile, but she is very athletic and fit. Her skin is a pale flawless peach with a natural rose to her cheeks. Her long silk like wings that span around fifteen feet when unfolded are an uncharacteristic black, although hints of silver catch your eye on occasion when they are bathed in moonlight. Personality: Valeska prefers the moonlight to sunlight, but this is only because she feels more at peace under the soft light of the moon rather than the harsher light of the sun. She is soft spoken and can travel with little to no noise simply by design. Will try to put an end to any squabbles between those she might travel with, Valeska doesn’t care for tension or arguments and tries to keep the peace between people as much as she can. Other than when she is trying to keep the peace, Valeska tries to blend into the background and keep to herself. She isn’t antisocial, just prefers to allow others to lead and take responsibility for the tough decisions since she would try too hard to find the best result for everyone, which isn’t always the best outcome for the task at hand. Would rather be only responsible for herself than others since she is scared of making the wrong choice and someone getting harmed for it. Background: Valeska was born to an Angel of the Night and an Angel of Fire, making her powers Governed by those two Gods. The Goddess of Dreams came to Valeska when she was ten and gave to her powers that were her own. The Goddess of Dreams is who Valeska is closest to, since that is where she draws her most personal powers from. Goddess of Dreams: Aislinn God of the Night: Kishi Goddess of Fire: Tanwen Valeska moved to Wertimohr from Wynmohr to be closer to the Ocean. She loves the water, always has since she was ten. Her parents believe it is because she was visited by Aislinn, the Goddess of Dreams around that time, although they know little about the Realm of Dreams unlike their daughter since they are governed by their single Gods. Valeska has lived in Wertimohr since she was sixteen and has made a decent place for herself and manages to keep her powers under the detection of the Schools to the North. The powers given to an Angel by the Gods can not be taught to them from any School, it is more instinctual and takes that individual’s ability to prove worthiness to move on to more complicated powers. Has always wanted to see the much talked about rivers of the Capital and the Ornlyn Lake, but has yet to make the journey. thezero Name: Dougray Marrow Age: 26 Race: Drakkon Gender: Male County: Wynmohr Skills: Uses poisoned blow darts. Throwing knives, and short sword as final defense. Magic: Serpent Mage. Can summon/communicate/control serpents. Has a tiny chameleon familiar named “Penda“. Appearance: 6’,0”. 170 lbs. Appears human, except for the subtle fork in his tongue. Pallid skin, long wavy black hair he always keeps in a pony-tail, and eyes that usually appear a lizard-like green, but change with Penda’s current coloring. Slight in build, with lithe almost snake-like movements. Wears green trousers and white blouse with dark green cloak. Personality: Very eloquent, polite and pleasant. Personable, friendly. Optimistic, lucky, happy, and humble. Good-hearted. Proud of his heritage, and puts others before himself. Family-oriented and strong-willed. Background:Raised in upper-class Wynmohr society. From a traditional Drakkon home. Studied at one of the top universities in all of Aryndom to develop his political skills/Serpent Mage skills. He was bred for success, raised to be someone who’d make a difference for all the land. He has let his family run his life, with little time for diversions like weapons training so most of his skills he developed on his own. Had a swordsmanship tutor throughout his childhood, however as is the practice of the upper-class in the cities of Wynmohr. His parents recently retired to their summer home on the beaches of Bettryn, leaving him three homes, one of which is a town house in Mavendy which he has gone to stay at while he finishes writing a political paper which he hopes will get him noticed for his mind as well as his connections in the right circles.  Welcome and Enjoy The Oracle of Renn |
 Rookssolace  Regan surveyed the city from atop the hill where she crouched wrapped in the warm orange of the setting sun and the swirling mists rising off the five rivers. She’d never seen anything so beautiful her entire life. This place was alive with greens she’d never imagined and Mavendrea seemed on fire as the sun died in the western sky, its awesome towers stabbing like spears into the clouds. Beside her, Rover munched on the lush grasses, watching his master out of the corner of his eyes. It had been a longer journey than expected and she knew her poor companion was just as exhausted as herself. In the branches of the tree she now lowered herself against, Iola tore apart a field rat. Smiling to herself, she pulled the cowl of her hood over her eyes to get a few hours of rest. The amazing city whose platform floated on air and mist would have to wait for morning. Each breath she took as she began to daze was full of a heady magic which had enveloped her upon her first step into the county. Spicy, aromatic, warm and soothing, she was cocooned in comfort as she succumbed to the call of her dreams. snap The tiniest twig brought her rest to an abrupt halt. Immediately alert and wide-eyed, Regan forced herself to remain still and listened intently for any further cause for concern. Moments passed like hours and finally a hushed sound like an errant breath floated into her mind. In the darkness, she could see the glint of Rovers eyes open and searching the darkness. The horse tensed, and shifted uncomfortably where he stood, signaling Regan to make her move. Curling, she somersaulted soundlessly three feet in front of where she’d been – looking back at the tree and the shadows dancing in the mist around it. Two sets of eyes were on her, and her bow was still hanging from Rovers saddle. Who’d heard of crime in Mavendy? Shaking her head at her idiocy she drew the little mutli-purpose blade from her belt. It wouldn’t be enough, but it was something. “I command you to lay down your arms.” A voice said firmly as its shadow approached slowly, from behind the tree. “Upon the authority of King Tioden, and his border patrol, miss, lay down your arms.” Regan sighed and tossed the knife to the ground near Rovers hooves. The men were there in an instant. But they didn’t lay a hand on her. Instead, the silent man reached inside of his cloak and produced a scroll, rolled and sealed. Flicking his fingers together, a blue flame erupted at the fingertips of the soldier. It didn’t so much light as it fizzled the mist away, immediately illuminating the area with moon-glow. After all the darkness, it was like standing in early evening light with a blue sun high above her head. Regan took the scroll from the mans hand and unrolled it, still cautiously eyeing the both of them. On Order of the King of Aryndom, his Royal Highness King Tioden the traveler from Betrynn: Miss Regan Leander (located along the eastern border of Mavendy, on a hill, under an ash tree) her horse Rover, and the hawk Iola are hence forth ordered into the Kings service. Service begins at once and will extend for an indeterminable amount of time, ceasing only under these conditions: the issue of release orders, completion of mission, and/or death. Regan Leander will report directly to Head Wizard Andolon accompanied by assigned escort on pain of death. Deathly Hollows “Wizard Andolon will be right with you.” A young secretary in a white gown announced.Mykal replied with a brief nod of his head, gripping the scroll tightly in his hand as he waited patiently to see King Tiodens Head Wizard. After his long journey, errant thoughts of rest and relation drifted into his mind. The abbot had been very persistent that the scroll be delivered in a timely fashion, and now after all the time he’d been rushing to arrive in Mavendy – he wasn’t embarrassed to admit he was exhausted. All he knew was that the scroll was not open under any circumstances. Mykal had kept his curiosity under check this whole trip, and would be relieved when it was taken from him. His interest denied at long last. The great door to the wizards office swung open with a aged groan, as a woman escorted by two guards strolled out and headed towards the stairs to the courtyard. She was a long-limbed, curly-haired blonde – probably from the desert guessing from her customary Bettryn tan and garb. As they passed she glanced at him from the corner of her eye with a look that made his eyebrow rise without thinking. It was like he had seen her somewhere before. The secretary approached, bringing him back to the present, and gestured towards the door. Gathering his rucksack and staff, he followed her into the Head Wizards Chamber. “Wizard Andolon, Mykal Styrke to see you.” She announced simply and retreated back out the doorway. “Ah! Mykal…We meet again! A pleasure as always.” “I hope that you do well.” Mykal replied. Delivering correspondences from the brotherhood was one of the only things that the brothers asked of him, and he’d often found himself in this same office meeting with the great wizard of Mavendy. “Oh. All is well here. I hope that brothers are the same?” “Well the Abbot was in rare form about this here scroll. I hope it don’t bring us ill news?” Rising from his seat the wizard walked from around his table and approached Mykal, holding out both hands as if about to handle a delicate dish, he motioned for him to lay the scroll in his aged hands. “Ah, here you go, Sir.” Mykal said as he placed the scroll lightly into the wizards palms. After a moment of silence, he looked up into Mykals eyes and this time motioned oddly for him to take the scroll back. Puzzled, he opened his mouth to ask if anything is the matter. “Nothing is wrong, son. You have done everything you were told and for that among many reasons does this belong, in fact…to you.” Again the wizard motioned for him to take the scroll. Reluctantly, he retrieved it, a clueless look plastered on his face. The old man, turned and went back to his seat. “Well, open it will you.” The wizard insisted taking up his cup of tea to drink, watching the younger man all the while. Mykal looked intently at the scroll, he’d been tempted to open for the past three weeks journey and sighed. All this time, the message had been for him! What was all the secrecy about, and what exactly did it have to do with him? Wedging his finger underneath the wax seal, he opened the scroll and unrolled it to read: On Order of the King of Aryndom, his Royal Highness King Tioden the monk and majik: Mykal Styrke (standing before me) his staff, and skills are hence forth ordered into the Kings service. Service begins at once and will extend for an indeterminable amount of time, ceasing only under these conditions: the issue of release orders, completion of mission, and/or death. Mykal Styrke will now have a cup of tea, a buttered biscuit and report to my chambers again at noontime on the morrow. Non-compliance with these orders will result in death. jeremknight On Order of the king of Aryndom, his Royal Highness King Tioden the traveler from Mavendy: Caliphar Durias, his magic and martial arts are hence forth ordered into the King's service. Service begins at once and will extend for an inderterminable amount of time, ceasing only under the following conditions: the issue of release orders, completion of mission, and/or death. Caliphar Durias is hereby ordered to arrive at the office of Head Wizard Adolon at sundown. Caliphar rushed all the way there from noontime upon fear of consequence of unpunctuality. At precisely 5:57 PM, he arrived in The office of Adolon. He handed the letter to him immendiently. For a moment, Adolon just sat there after reading the letter, and drinking his tea. "Oh, how rude of me. Would you like some tea? It's really quite delightful." asked the Head Wizard. "I really would prefer to get on with this meeting, if you wish." said Caliphar intently. "Well, I must wait for the other four to arrive before I can begin, so you may as well drink some tea and have a butter biscuit." said Adolon. Rose Grey Valeska poked at the fire absently with a stick mulling the words she had read days earlier over in her head.On Order of the King of Aryndom, his Royal Highness King Tioden the traveler from Wertimohr: Valeska Xadrian and any skills or magic she may possess are henceforth ordered into the Kings service. Service begins at once and will extend for an indeterminable amount of time, ceasing only under these conditions: the issue of release orders, completion of mission, and/or death. Valeska Xadrian will report to Head Wizard Andolon immediately upon her timely arrival to Mavendy. It often baffled and frightened her how much those in charge often knew about those that they ruled over. She hadn’t told anyone but close friends that she had finally chosen to make the journey to Mavendy to see the famed rivers and Ornlyn Lake, yet somehow this letter had reached her during her journey and it appeared that the barer of the message was coming from the direction of Mavendy, not Wertimohr so it wasn’t as if they had missed her and came to find her. The messenger had found her easily it seemed, and likely exactly where he was told to. Only after she had opened and read the message did the messenger leave her presence. It seemed that no one was going to make sure that she arrived in Mavendy and met with the Head Wizard, not that Valeska had thought to do anything other that what the message had told her to do. One didn’t take such instructions lightly, after all it was a letter from the King of Aryndom, anyone loyal to the King wouldn’t dream of not complying. What puzzled Valeska the most was why they wanted to see her. She had done little that she knew of, to draw any attention to her, never mind that of the King or the Head Wizard. Not to mention that there were far more Angles out there with far more advanced powers than herself who would likely be of much more use to the King than herself. What had she been summoned to do? Was she actually as qualified for this mission as the High Wizard must have thought in order to summon her? Would she let not only her family, but also her King down? She would find out soon enough for Mavendy was only a half a day’s fly from where she sat at present, poking at the fire she had summoned forth to keep the mild chill in the air at bay and cook a simple meal for her dinner. Sighing, Valeska couldn’t figure out any reason why she, of all people, would have been chosen to be in the service of the King. “I suppose I should just wait and find out tomorrow,” she muttered to the fire before tossing the stick to it. Wiping her hands together to remove any dirt or bark left from the stick off of them, she settled down on her bedroll and stared up at the sky. The moon shone brightly over head and the few wisps of clouds were so few and far between that they didn’t hinder the view of the twinkling stars. The moonlight calmed her nerves as she stared at the brilliance of the orb. The moon had always brought her peace and it wasn’t difficult to understand why, being the daughter of an Angel of the Night and touched by the Goddess of Dreams, Aislinn. It didn’t seem to matter as much that she was also the daughter of an Angel of Fire, since her powers dealing more with the night had always been more dominant. Not that her Dream affiliated powers only occurred at night, she often envisioned much during daylight hours. There was much more to dreams than most realized. Taking in a deep breath of crisp night air Valeska let it out slowly and closed her eyes, still feeling the presence of the moon as she drifted to sleep, never knowing what Aislinn might have in store for her. Rookssolace Regan followed her ‘escort’ on foot, leading Rover slowly behind her. The mist here was like nothing in her wildest dreams. Thick like velvet curtains, it made every step a difficult, yet strangely soft. She couldn’t really decide if she liked it or not. The two men were mute, and it made the silent journey abnormally long, but finally after what seemed like hours of aimless wandering – her feet met flagstones.In Bettryn, so many rumors flew around about the Kings Great Wizard. Though no one she had known claimed to have met him, they told grand tales of mystery and adventure. Anyone, it seemed, who’d ever had the honor of being summoned by the Wizard was guaranteed fame or death in their near future, sometimes both. Regan prayed not the latter. The Mist slowly dissipated once they reached the city with its dark looming towers overhead casting ominous shadows. Soft candle light from inside the houses and shops gave the city a foreboding glow, while the moons soft light fell like sparkles onto the slated rooftops making them shimmer like the surfaces of enchanted ponds. But the city although bright for this time of night was eerily quiet. Ahead of them was the greatest and tallest tower of them all, topped in five sharp spires with the crest of the King wavering in an unfelt breeze at the summit of the center spire. Two enormous doors, guarded by four men apiece seemed to be their destination. Though Regan had been considering escaping for some time, she’d gotten far too caught up in all the beauty of Mavendy to have planned a thing, and now realized it was too late. Sighing, she trudged on, her feet dragging on the cobbles. “Four!” Shouted the men at arms, barring the doors with their long spears. Her escort replied calmly with the number seven, their feet not missing a step. Regan swallowed hard as the doors were opened, and she was forced to hand over Rovers reigns to a young stable boy. The horse went after the boy, his eyes nervously still on his master. “Evening,” She couldn’t help choking as she greeted the guards out of habit. One smiled at her, and then let his face become stone once more. Her escort led her through numerous corridors and finally to a hallway lined with several humble looking sleeping rooms. “The Wizard will see you tomorrow, Miss. It’s far too late right now.” They said, leaving her quickly with a short set of directions to the baths and kitchens. Regan was exhausted and fell asleep on the soft goose-down bed within minutes. She was awoken by the sound of a rapping at the door. Sluggishly, she dragged herself to the door and opened it to find, not the hallway she’d gone down the night before but a grand office. It was flooded by bright sunlight, its walls lined with books, jars, sculptures and scrolls. Giant rugs covered almost the entire stone floor and a massive fireplace made up most of the far wall. In the center was a desk, behind which an old man sat reading. “Ah,” The old man said w/o even looking up. “Little Miss Leander of Bettryn, I presume?” Still consumed in his book, Regan approached a little more than apprehensively towards one of the chairs before the desk. “You’re the first to arrive you know, and am I excited!” Slamming his book closed, he leaned back in his chair and looked her over. She took a seat and in bewilderment opened her mouth, but nothing came out. “I’m glad that you made it here well. The rest will be here by tomorrow afternoon – well all but one. You’re welcome to stay here again overnight; Etta knows we don’t need to sleep out under trees when quite soon you’ll have so much of that!” His face was heavily wrinkled, but his skin was bright and he had apple-red cheeks. Two bright blue, young looking eyes smiled at her behind tiny spectacles. “And … why… I mean…” Regan stuttered in confusion. “Oh hush, now I would so much love to sit here and chat with you. I’m afraid however, that all of your questions will have to be answered tomorrow at lunch. Bring your appetite; I’ve heard the chef will be preparing something lovely for the six of us. Besides, another of our little merry band of adventurers is waiting outside my office to see me.” The old man rambled, but she felt comfortable with him. He was so sunny for a wizened man, with so much experience in both white and black magic, war, and adventures. She couldn’t help but like him. “Now why don’t you go to the market, invest in some nice gloves and stalkings.” His words made her rise from her seat and begin backing towards the door on impulse. “I don’t mean to rush you, you know but the whole land isn’t a desert and I’ve got four others to meet with… so off with you and don’t forget! Lunch tomorrow!” Regan curtsied lightly, and turned just in time for her escort to open the doors for her and lead her out into what looked like a lobby now, instead of her sleeping room. She didn’t know which was up for a moment as they made their way past a young woman in a white robe who was informing the wizard of his next appointment. “Wizard Andolon, Mykal Styrke to see you.” The woman said. Regan’s eyes fell on the brown-robed man waiting to be seen. Their eyes met for a moment, and it made a chill run up her spine. Where had she met that man before? She wondered to herself as her escort hurried her out of the lobby and into the street. Why would she need to buy gloves!? Deathly Hollows As Mykal made his way outside, into the city which shimmered with yellow sunlight he regretted taking the money the Wizard had offered him.“These men will show you to your quarters, in the meantime…” He had said. “here is a little something for the delivery.” The Head-Wizard had offered Mykal a small, but hefty pouch. “Why pay me when it was my own message I was delivering?” He questioned, almost insulted but the thought of the exchange. “You can think of it like a gift then. Go get yourself a good hot meal, and bath…you need one.” The old man chuckled and tossed the leather purse at him. With reluctance Mykal had caught it. Some boiled potatoes or hot soup and a bath was all the convincing he’d needed. The men had lead him to his room, though some would call it a suite. After he had unpacked his belongings, which turned out to be very little at all – he took up his staff and went into town. The smells overwhelmed his senses. There were venders in the market with vegetables and other foods he had never seen! Making his way amongst the bustling customers and carts, he finally laid eyes on a bathhouse to his liking. Dropping two gold coins into the receptionists’ hand, he sighed. That money could buy so much more than what he’d come for, but who didn’t deserve to be treated well every once and a while? Two maidens came for his clothes, so that they could be cleaned while he was bathing. With their weight from his shoulders he dropped into the tub to soak. The hot water was so soothing. The maids would come in periodically to bring steaming buckets to warm his water, and realizing his clothes wouldn’t be finished for sometime he ordered supper. Spiced, roasted duck and a plate of steamed and seasoned potatoes (which the chef himself had recommended) was to be his meal of choice. His mouth had watered at the thought, and soon his belly was fattened by taste! After his clothes were dry and his meal and bathing finished, he headed back out into the streets of Mavendy. The sun was nearly down and the sky was orange and purple as it melted past the black horizon. Returning to his suite, he found his bed covered in quilts and goose-down pillows. Mykal slept as he hadn’t slept in months. Rose Grey The early morning sun peaked through the break in the canopy of tree tops lingering on the sleeping figure within the clearing making her deep red curls glow and the silk of her wings sparkle, but the warmth on her cheek did nothing to wake her.**** The sky was clear and blue as she looked upon a snow capped mountain her deep green eyes were wide and something pulled at her soul. She took a step toward the mountain, but found herself among four others waiting in an office for someone to arrive. Then feelings of long roads and travel weary bones, making her whole body ache as if she’d traveled those roads herself. Then more feelings came, those of fear and of joy. Finally there was a voice soft and sweet and sang as if her words were song, “Bring breath and soul to them once more, and Sword and staff they’ll take. Those whose hearts were borne into new chests, when returned to them shall wake.” **** Valeska opened her eyes and rolled onto her back from her position on her side. She laid there thinking of what she had seen, wondering what it all had meant. Though the images were clear to her, the voice rang in her head echoing the words that had been spoken. What did they mean? Why did it feel as if something now tugged at her heart and soul as in her dream? Who where those others waiting with her and who were they waiting for? What roads would she travel or were these words and images not of her, but of other times? Such was the confusion given to one gifted with dreams. There were many things a dream could be and it was her job, as an Angel of Dreams, to figure out what the Goddess was trying to tell her, if she was telling her anything at all. Looking up at the sky above, Valeska realized that it was much later than she had hoped to rise. It was late morning by the look of it and she had to be in Mavendy to meet with the High Wizard in a timely manner. Rising she would find herself a quick meal and then be on her way. It wouldn’t be right to stall here any longer, she had a meeting to attend. © Copyright 2007 Rookssolace, Deathly Hollows, jeremknight, Rose Grey, (known as GROUP). All rights reserved. GROUP has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work. |
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