Syarnis
08-02-06, 12:20 PM
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A bloodied body and a broken bow landed heavily on the dirt path outside the city. A speeding horse with an unidentified rider sped away down the road, away from the town as to not be seen by the guards. The limp body twitched slightly and then began to crawl forward with one arm, the other being severely injured in the fall. His fingertips slowly dug into the dirt, pulling the dead weight that was the rest of his body along. Small rocks became embedded in between the fingers, causing extreme pain and bleeding, but this was not recognized by the man who moved along at a snails pace.
Shortly after the man lost all consciousness and fell away into an unknown world. A world of darkness, a world where there was no sight or sound, so touch or feeling, no smells, no tastes, just emptiness and solitude. Suddenly a small voice spoke to him, it told him to keep looking, keep searching, and keep on his path, for the treasure of his dreams is not far away.
Sunlight shone in the room where Kith was being taken care of. His injuries were severe and he was in a coma for the last three days. His tenders kept watch on him mended his numerous broken bones and cuts, trickled water into his mouth, and kept fresh food and healing herbs ready for when Kith would awake. Unfortunately, his bow was broken, and the ones cared for him had no ideas on how to fix the bow.
Kith’s eyelids fluttered a little, then slowly rose to look blurredly at his surroundings before a nasty dizzy spell washed over him causing his eyes to shut, stomach to turn, and his brain to shut down, again he fell asleep, unable to do anything but lie there at the mercy of his hosts.
Twice more this happened, and in Kith’s weakened condition, there was no way to stop it. Several times his tenders thought to end Kith’s life, making it so that he would have to suffer no more, but something stopped them every time, something about this man said that there was more to his life then this, and that he needed to live.
On the twelfth day Kith woke up from his coma, and again the dizziness came, but he stayed up, his stomach turned, but nothing came out, his head throbbed like the drums of a goblin marching drum, and his body ached like an prisoner in an orcish war camp. Kith thought he was dead, but realized that this pain was too much for dead man to bare, and his sight was not of some fiery hell, or a pleasant heaven, but of a small room with several people standing around him.
“Whe...wher...where is…” Kith could only muster a few broken words in his pain, his chest felt like an elephant was sitting on it, and every breath was more painful then the last. “Where…am…I…?”
“You are in the city of Velicë Arta, my friend, and we are much surprised to see you. You look like you have angered the wrong crowd, and your lack of money seems to say that also, what happened to you? Did you not pay a debt?”
Kith looked at the man who spoke with lifeless eyes and no tone in his voice, except that of the dead, “I…have…no debt…that…I…can…speak of. I was…attacked…while…guarding…a precious…trea…treas…treasure. Now…I…I need…”
The man placed a hand on Kith’s forehead and spoke “Son, you need to lie down and wait for a cleric. You are in no condition to move anywhere, if you get up now, you are liable to break your ribs more and re-injure your legs. So just lie down and rest, the cleric will be here in the morrow to heal up what he can, then you will have to wait a little while longer to ensure that your strength has returned before we can let you go.”
A female walked into the room carrying a bowl of hot liquid. “This is some broth I made for you,” she spoke in a soothing tone, one that reminded Kith of his mother, “and I am going to feed it to you, so you can regain your strength, and if you argue with me, I am going to poke you in the ribs, GOT THAT?” Her tone was playing, but her finger and eyes said she was half serious.
Kith smiled, and opened his mouth; the hot liquid instantly burned his tongue and caused Kith to start coughing violently as some when into his windpipe. This sent extreme pain down Kiths body, causing him to gasp for air, which caused more pain. He finally was able to stop coughing, gasping and hurting, and lied there with his eyes closed, breathing normally and regaining some composure. The woman then tried again with the broth, this time blowing on it to cool it down and bringing it to his mouth. Suddenly the whole world faded to black, and the people in the room became faceless blobs, all calling out to him in some strange language.
Kith woke with a start. The night sky still hung over head and he was no longer in the room where he was healed. That was almost three months ago, and the people of Velicë Arta had done wonders at bringing him back to health and letting him go on his way. The bow, that had been a gift of his father had been fixed and was as good as new. They gave him a small supply of arrows and he headed back out into the wolrd to find the greatest treasure, the one stolen from him.
He fell back into a fitful sleep, one of nightmares of the night that he was attacked and his precious cargo was taken from him. Her face was still vivid in the night, when his eyes were closed and sleep was about to take him. The horrified look was one that he would never forget, and the beauty of her face was something he had trouble remembering.
When the sun rose, Kith packed his things, headed to the coast, the place where he was last told of her whereabouts.
A bloodied body and a broken bow landed heavily on the dirt path outside the city. A speeding horse with an unidentified rider sped away down the road, away from the town as to not be seen by the guards. The limp body twitched slightly and then began to crawl forward with one arm, the other being severely injured in the fall. His fingertips slowly dug into the dirt, pulling the dead weight that was the rest of his body along. Small rocks became embedded in between the fingers, causing extreme pain and bleeding, but this was not recognized by the man who moved along at a snails pace.
Shortly after the man lost all consciousness and fell away into an unknown world. A world of darkness, a world where there was no sight or sound, so touch or feeling, no smells, no tastes, just emptiness and solitude. Suddenly a small voice spoke to him, it told him to keep looking, keep searching, and keep on his path, for the treasure of his dreams is not far away.
Sunlight shone in the room where Kith was being taken care of. His injuries were severe and he was in a coma for the last three days. His tenders kept watch on him mended his numerous broken bones and cuts, trickled water into his mouth, and kept fresh food and healing herbs ready for when Kith would awake. Unfortunately, his bow was broken, and the ones cared for him had no ideas on how to fix the bow.
Kith’s eyelids fluttered a little, then slowly rose to look blurredly at his surroundings before a nasty dizzy spell washed over him causing his eyes to shut, stomach to turn, and his brain to shut down, again he fell asleep, unable to do anything but lie there at the mercy of his hosts.
Twice more this happened, and in Kith’s weakened condition, there was no way to stop it. Several times his tenders thought to end Kith’s life, making it so that he would have to suffer no more, but something stopped them every time, something about this man said that there was more to his life then this, and that he needed to live.
On the twelfth day Kith woke up from his coma, and again the dizziness came, but he stayed up, his stomach turned, but nothing came out, his head throbbed like the drums of a goblin marching drum, and his body ached like an prisoner in an orcish war camp. Kith thought he was dead, but realized that this pain was too much for dead man to bare, and his sight was not of some fiery hell, or a pleasant heaven, but of a small room with several people standing around him.
“Whe...wher...where is…” Kith could only muster a few broken words in his pain, his chest felt like an elephant was sitting on it, and every breath was more painful then the last. “Where…am…I…?”
“You are in the city of Velicë Arta, my friend, and we are much surprised to see you. You look like you have angered the wrong crowd, and your lack of money seems to say that also, what happened to you? Did you not pay a debt?”
Kith looked at the man who spoke with lifeless eyes and no tone in his voice, except that of the dead, “I…have…no debt…that…I…can…speak of. I was…attacked…while…guarding…a precious…trea…treas…treasure. Now…I…I need…”
The man placed a hand on Kith’s forehead and spoke “Son, you need to lie down and wait for a cleric. You are in no condition to move anywhere, if you get up now, you are liable to break your ribs more and re-injure your legs. So just lie down and rest, the cleric will be here in the morrow to heal up what he can, then you will have to wait a little while longer to ensure that your strength has returned before we can let you go.”
A female walked into the room carrying a bowl of hot liquid. “This is some broth I made for you,” she spoke in a soothing tone, one that reminded Kith of his mother, “and I am going to feed it to you, so you can regain your strength, and if you argue with me, I am going to poke you in the ribs, GOT THAT?” Her tone was playing, but her finger and eyes said she was half serious.
Kith smiled, and opened his mouth; the hot liquid instantly burned his tongue and caused Kith to start coughing violently as some when into his windpipe. This sent extreme pain down Kiths body, causing him to gasp for air, which caused more pain. He finally was able to stop coughing, gasping and hurting, and lied there with his eyes closed, breathing normally and regaining some composure. The woman then tried again with the broth, this time blowing on it to cool it down and bringing it to his mouth. Suddenly the whole world faded to black, and the people in the room became faceless blobs, all calling out to him in some strange language.
Kith woke with a start. The night sky still hung over head and he was no longer in the room where he was healed. That was almost three months ago, and the people of Velicë Arta had done wonders at bringing him back to health and letting him go on his way. The bow, that had been a gift of his father had been fixed and was as good as new. They gave him a small supply of arrows and he headed back out into the wolrd to find the greatest treasure, the one stolen from him.
He fell back into a fitful sleep, one of nightmares of the night that he was attacked and his precious cargo was taken from him. Her face was still vivid in the night, when his eyes were closed and sleep was about to take him. The horrified look was one that he would never forget, and the beauty of her face was something he had trouble remembering.
When the sun rose, Kith packed his things, headed to the coast, the place where he was last told of her whereabouts.