MaxBlade
11-30-06, 11:09 AM
((Solo))
“Spare some gold?” said the poor, man, leaning against the building. His clothes practically rags though he was still chubby, Fareron shook his head and sighed speaking slowly, “No…I don’t have any money, I wish I did have some to give you.” Fareron slowly walked away, listening to the man sigh. He wished he hadn’t had to lie to the man but it was what he had to do, plus it was kind of wierd to see a poor fat man. "Drunk Bastard" was all he could say.
He had just arrived in Scara Brae, this evening and had been here for about two hours, he had come for adventure, so far all he had found in this world was nothingness, yes beautiful countries and all he was sure but if you didn't have ayone to share it with other then the ground and air what fun was it, he needed a good friend. He sighed again sleepily. Dusk was slowly moving in and the people that inhabited the city were slowly disappearing. Going there ways, into the bars to get rid of depression, to homes as not to leave their children there.
Fareron though, he had no where to go, at least not yet. He had hoped that he would be able to find an inn to stay in to go to sleep tonight; so far he had been unsuccessful. Either they didn’t have room or there were not any Inn’s on this block. He shook his head, the “Sandman” as his mom usually called it when he was still a little jinn, was slowly coming to his eyes. It felt like a fingernail was stuck in the eyelid then when you rubbed it it felt like sand. They started to water, blurring his vision, he couldn’t see for a second. He put both his hands up to rub his eyes, thought he knew it would make it worst, just the feeling of rubbing them made it better. The next thing he knew he was on the ground. The air did not swoosh out of him as you would expect, being an air djinn meant he was made of air, blows and drowning of the sort did not work on him, but it still hurt when you fail and your head hit the ground.
“Well it looks like we got him!” Said a gruff voice. With his hands tied around his head he couldn’t see nor make a move to stop the man who had spoken. “Yeah we got him, now let’s check him.” This was a smooth voice definitely different from the last. At this point Fareron didn’t know how many people were around him.
“Check him boss what do ya mean.” The gruff voice said, even though his control of his limbs were still unavailable, he did have control of the wind, taking it and using his mind he started to move the wind up and down the man, but he lost his concentration as one of them kicked him in the ribs, a sharp intake of air was all he got before one jumped on him.
He felt them start to vigorously go through his white robes. They would take his money! He couldn’t let that happen. He started to wiggle and move, trying to throw the man off, but he knocked him in the face one time, his fingers digging in his eyes, the pain of dirty fingernails screwing up your eyes is unimaginable. “Stop moving ya little snake” it was the gruff voiced man on top of him, his scratchy voice sounding like sand paper rubbing on wood. “Get the money and let’s go Terra!” it was the boss, who spoke this time, but Terra as was his name, had still not found his cache. It was time for him to leave though, and with that he called upon the wind to lift him into the air. He then flipped over, making the man fall a great height. Screaming and flailing to no avail he fell. Hitting the ground, with a loud crack as a part of his bones broke and a thud, praise to the fatness of his body.
Fareron raised his hands. The ropes around them were not that tight, the only reason he couldn’t get out was because of his arms being on the ground. Fareron’s eyes flashed open with a loud crack of thunder, a cacophony to the man standing below. Fareron’s callous eyes took the man by surprise, most heroes were supposed to be nice to the bad guys. Long experience with criminals’ pleas for mercy had made Fareron understandably unfeeling towards them though. The buffoon did not know Fareron. AS the man cried out to Fareron with loud pleas, and then with a capricious look his attitude changed in a second as Fareron slowly drifted down out of the dark blue sky, the boss man slowly cajoling, and appealing to Fareron, or at least he tried. The last thing the man saw, was Fareron slowly pulling out a white disk, looking like an item made in heaven, and then it was sticking out of his back. Three days later his body was found washed up in the bay of Scara Brae.
“Spare some gold?” said the poor, man, leaning against the building. His clothes practically rags though he was still chubby, Fareron shook his head and sighed speaking slowly, “No…I don’t have any money, I wish I did have some to give you.” Fareron slowly walked away, listening to the man sigh. He wished he hadn’t had to lie to the man but it was what he had to do, plus it was kind of wierd to see a poor fat man. "Drunk Bastard" was all he could say.
He had just arrived in Scara Brae, this evening and had been here for about two hours, he had come for adventure, so far all he had found in this world was nothingness, yes beautiful countries and all he was sure but if you didn't have ayone to share it with other then the ground and air what fun was it, he needed a good friend. He sighed again sleepily. Dusk was slowly moving in and the people that inhabited the city were slowly disappearing. Going there ways, into the bars to get rid of depression, to homes as not to leave their children there.
Fareron though, he had no where to go, at least not yet. He had hoped that he would be able to find an inn to stay in to go to sleep tonight; so far he had been unsuccessful. Either they didn’t have room or there were not any Inn’s on this block. He shook his head, the “Sandman” as his mom usually called it when he was still a little jinn, was slowly coming to his eyes. It felt like a fingernail was stuck in the eyelid then when you rubbed it it felt like sand. They started to water, blurring his vision, he couldn’t see for a second. He put both his hands up to rub his eyes, thought he knew it would make it worst, just the feeling of rubbing them made it better. The next thing he knew he was on the ground. The air did not swoosh out of him as you would expect, being an air djinn meant he was made of air, blows and drowning of the sort did not work on him, but it still hurt when you fail and your head hit the ground.
“Well it looks like we got him!” Said a gruff voice. With his hands tied around his head he couldn’t see nor make a move to stop the man who had spoken. “Yeah we got him, now let’s check him.” This was a smooth voice definitely different from the last. At this point Fareron didn’t know how many people were around him.
“Check him boss what do ya mean.” The gruff voice said, even though his control of his limbs were still unavailable, he did have control of the wind, taking it and using his mind he started to move the wind up and down the man, but he lost his concentration as one of them kicked him in the ribs, a sharp intake of air was all he got before one jumped on him.
He felt them start to vigorously go through his white robes. They would take his money! He couldn’t let that happen. He started to wiggle and move, trying to throw the man off, but he knocked him in the face one time, his fingers digging in his eyes, the pain of dirty fingernails screwing up your eyes is unimaginable. “Stop moving ya little snake” it was the gruff voiced man on top of him, his scratchy voice sounding like sand paper rubbing on wood. “Get the money and let’s go Terra!” it was the boss, who spoke this time, but Terra as was his name, had still not found his cache. It was time for him to leave though, and with that he called upon the wind to lift him into the air. He then flipped over, making the man fall a great height. Screaming and flailing to no avail he fell. Hitting the ground, with a loud crack as a part of his bones broke and a thud, praise to the fatness of his body.
Fareron raised his hands. The ropes around them were not that tight, the only reason he couldn’t get out was because of his arms being on the ground. Fareron’s eyes flashed open with a loud crack of thunder, a cacophony to the man standing below. Fareron’s callous eyes took the man by surprise, most heroes were supposed to be nice to the bad guys. Long experience with criminals’ pleas for mercy had made Fareron understandably unfeeling towards them though. The buffoon did not know Fareron. AS the man cried out to Fareron with loud pleas, and then with a capricious look his attitude changed in a second as Fareron slowly drifted down out of the dark blue sky, the boss man slowly cajoling, and appealing to Fareron, or at least he tried. The last thing the man saw, was Fareron slowly pulling out a white disk, looking like an item made in heaven, and then it was sticking out of his back. Three days later his body was found washed up in the bay of Scara Brae.