Skie and Avery
10-07-10, 06:16 PM
closed
The morning sunrise outside of the hamlet of Mithdhurin was gorgeous. Like paint that had been allowed to seep up thin paper, vibrant gold and reds were overtaking the purple half light of the early morning. The last stars were fading in the sky, giving way to the brilliance of the sun. The moon still hung hauntingly pale just over the treeline, reflected in spirit by the twinkling of dew along the grassy yards on either side of the road. In all that beauty, Mithdhurin rose from the rubble of what had once been a quiet town on the road to Alerar. A few houses and an inn had managed to pull themselves together from the onslaught of the war against the undead.
Despite the carnage that had been wrought upon their village, the community had welcomed Skie into their care with open arms and little distrust. It was more than she had hoped for. Now, she lay back on the duvet in her room, wrapped in a cotton robe as she looked over the advertisement again. It had been printed modestly, more information than promises. She liked that.
"The Golden Dawn in search of adventurous persons for the exploration of caverns in the Pass." The talk of treasure hidden within dwarven tunnels and natural caves was rampant, as it always was amongst humans who live close to the older races. Elven treasure so fine it would keep an entire family in extravagant wealth for decades and generations, or perhaps the entire hoard of a long forgotten king or dragon would be the epicenter of a drunken story. Re-tellings would only add on to the legend, until entire libraries of forbidden magical tomes and mountains of gold within the caverns themselves found their way into the stories. Skie had seen calls for expeditions such as this one a dozen times before, and had never answered the call. Yet here she was, waiting in Mithdhurin for a man named Grimaldi. As so much of her decisions did, it all came down to family.
It had been years since she'd seen or heard tell of her father. Devon had been darker when they'd met, not the kind and gentle soul that she remembered from her youth. Rumor had it that the last anyone had seen him, he'd been in the area, down in the caverns. The last reliable source told the same story of Fingolfin ap Findelfin. The last words that her mother ever spoke to her, echoed in her mind. "Find Findelfin." It seemed to Skie that her mother and father had perhaps been of the same mind, no matter how different they had been otherwise. Perhaps if she went blindly into the dark, seeking the elf, she might find her father and an answer for the whole world gone wrong.
The morning sunrise outside of the hamlet of Mithdhurin was gorgeous. Like paint that had been allowed to seep up thin paper, vibrant gold and reds were overtaking the purple half light of the early morning. The last stars were fading in the sky, giving way to the brilliance of the sun. The moon still hung hauntingly pale just over the treeline, reflected in spirit by the twinkling of dew along the grassy yards on either side of the road. In all that beauty, Mithdhurin rose from the rubble of what had once been a quiet town on the road to Alerar. A few houses and an inn had managed to pull themselves together from the onslaught of the war against the undead.
Despite the carnage that had been wrought upon their village, the community had welcomed Skie into their care with open arms and little distrust. It was more than she had hoped for. Now, she lay back on the duvet in her room, wrapped in a cotton robe as she looked over the advertisement again. It had been printed modestly, more information than promises. She liked that.
"The Golden Dawn in search of adventurous persons for the exploration of caverns in the Pass." The talk of treasure hidden within dwarven tunnels and natural caves was rampant, as it always was amongst humans who live close to the older races. Elven treasure so fine it would keep an entire family in extravagant wealth for decades and generations, or perhaps the entire hoard of a long forgotten king or dragon would be the epicenter of a drunken story. Re-tellings would only add on to the legend, until entire libraries of forbidden magical tomes and mountains of gold within the caverns themselves found their way into the stories. Skie had seen calls for expeditions such as this one a dozen times before, and had never answered the call. Yet here she was, waiting in Mithdhurin for a man named Grimaldi. As so much of her decisions did, it all came down to family.
It had been years since she'd seen or heard tell of her father. Devon had been darker when they'd met, not the kind and gentle soul that she remembered from her youth. Rumor had it that the last anyone had seen him, he'd been in the area, down in the caverns. The last reliable source told the same story of Fingolfin ap Findelfin. The last words that her mother ever spoke to her, echoed in her mind. "Find Findelfin." It seemed to Skie that her mother and father had perhaps been of the same mind, no matter how different they had been otherwise. Perhaps if she went blindly into the dark, seeking the elf, she might find her father and an answer for the whole world gone wrong.