Elijah_Morendale
12-12-10, 05:55 PM
"Right! So what have we learned from this trip, dearest Elijah?"
My hand instinctively reached for the eight-inch blade that used to be nestled snugly on the inside of my denim jacket. Instead, my fingers were met with a gaping hole through both that and the olive green hoodie I had on underneath. I winced as I accidentally brushed up against the knife wound I sustained during a brief fight with some scumbags in Salvar. It was just another reminder why I've got to stop tagging along with Nadia on her little "training journeys"--especially when there's enough bars in Corone she can pick fights in.
"We've learned never to pick a fight with a sorcerer whilst wielding damascus."
"Correct," my red-headed friend chirped. This particular journey was rough on her. Before the hot bath back at the inn, Nadia didn't look much different than the throngs of dirty homeless that peppered the streets of Radasanth. Dirt caked her pale features, and her hair was tangled with twigs from Alerar and dust from Fallien. Now, the only remnant of our journey she bore was the missing tooth that you could only notice when her maniacal smile was at its widest.
"But what about you? What did you learn when you fought that death tank thing?"
Nadia pulled her mythril katana out. Half of the blade was missing. "We collected the bounty, didn't we?" She resheathed her weapon. "So we just buy a new one."
"And some new clothes," I muttered. She looked at her own ensemble--hideously arranged by any means, only made worse by the endless hours on the road. "Yes, of course."
Radasanth was much like I remembered it from long ago--picturesque in its grand design, but horribly laid out. We spent a good couple of hours trying to wind down the streets of the famous bazaar, looking for a decent place to buy a couple of new weapons, along with a good tailor. We happened upon the former soon enough.
It was a rather plain building, constructed of stone and wood. Two windows flanked the door, with a nondescript sign proclaiming its wares hung overhead. Nadia skipped up the steps, and threw the door open. I could hear a loud bang as it hit a nearby display case. "Sorry 'bout that," she called out. "Hey, can we get some service? Got some weapons that need replacing!"
This thread'll need two transactions.
My hand instinctively reached for the eight-inch blade that used to be nestled snugly on the inside of my denim jacket. Instead, my fingers were met with a gaping hole through both that and the olive green hoodie I had on underneath. I winced as I accidentally brushed up against the knife wound I sustained during a brief fight with some scumbags in Salvar. It was just another reminder why I've got to stop tagging along with Nadia on her little "training journeys"--especially when there's enough bars in Corone she can pick fights in.
"We've learned never to pick a fight with a sorcerer whilst wielding damascus."
"Correct," my red-headed friend chirped. This particular journey was rough on her. Before the hot bath back at the inn, Nadia didn't look much different than the throngs of dirty homeless that peppered the streets of Radasanth. Dirt caked her pale features, and her hair was tangled with twigs from Alerar and dust from Fallien. Now, the only remnant of our journey she bore was the missing tooth that you could only notice when her maniacal smile was at its widest.
"But what about you? What did you learn when you fought that death tank thing?"
Nadia pulled her mythril katana out. Half of the blade was missing. "We collected the bounty, didn't we?" She resheathed her weapon. "So we just buy a new one."
"And some new clothes," I muttered. She looked at her own ensemble--hideously arranged by any means, only made worse by the endless hours on the road. "Yes, of course."
Radasanth was much like I remembered it from long ago--picturesque in its grand design, but horribly laid out. We spent a good couple of hours trying to wind down the streets of the famous bazaar, looking for a decent place to buy a couple of new weapons, along with a good tailor. We happened upon the former soon enough.
It was a rather plain building, constructed of stone and wood. Two windows flanked the door, with a nondescript sign proclaiming its wares hung overhead. Nadia skipped up the steps, and threw the door open. I could hear a loud bang as it hit a nearby display case. "Sorry 'bout that," she called out. "Hey, can we get some service? Got some weapons that need replacing!"
This thread'll need two transactions.