Evangeline Rastain
08-01-07, 08:37 PM
The OOC thread is here (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?t=6859).
“Oh what a day!” Lithium cried, her pure melodious voice keening out into cerulean void that spanned the sky.
For the past few days, the young monk had grown to miss the sight of the sky. Even the gray churning of an overcast day seemed blissful compared to the unending collage of forest canopy. Her dreams, both day and night had been filled with images of floating tuffs of cotton drifting through a limitless sea of impossible blue. Even her nightmares held the sky as their main focus, showcasing furious storms that would have shaken the heavens and torn asunder the earth had they any ground in reality. That she would be met, nay, welcomed from her arboretum exile by such a perfect day was almost too much. Lest she break out into tears of joy, Lithium sped down road, laughing out her exultation, and luxuriating in the feel of the open air.
Fields of grain, maize and soy passed by her in a blur of green, yellow and brown. And even as the occasional farmer called out in curious puzzlement at her, worried as they mistook cries of glee for distress, the girl did not stop, or even notice. A mile vanished beneath her feet then two, three. Air burned in her lungs, unable to sustain their need and her heart hammered in her ears with the effort of its task. But it merely stimulated her to a greater pace, as she strove to out run the sun.
Finally, she stopped beneath a willow tree, gasping for air. A cool breeze carried the tree’s multitude of thin branches and twined them about the monk’s form. And though it was late summer, the wind was crisp and fresh, frigid with the breath of the mountains and memories of snowcapped peaks. The sensation brought a shiver to her slight form, and she paused, letting the sensation take her on a journey through the cold iron mountains. Then the breeze passed. The whip-like braches of the willow and the honeyed tresses of Lithium’s hair stilled. The images faded and the monk returned to the here and now, suckling in fondness the memory of her experience.
Li had told her before she left the shrine that many a hardship awaited her in the world. If that were true, it was necessary that Lithium treasure these clean and pure moments, lest she lose her sense of self to the mundane and ugliness the world would throw at her.
With a sigh, both sad and content, she returned to the road, which was now broken by the trenches of wagon tracks, baked solid in the sun but molded from past rains. Still, if she burned a bright enough flame… A smile, mischievous and defiant crept across her elfin face.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The sun was only a little past its zenith when Lithium arrived in Scara Brae. She was somewhat put out by that time. Having to look at the city from a distance for well over three hours before finally arriving had nearly exhausted her store of patience. Oh sure the first fifteen minutes of the view had been spectacular. Lithium had never seen anything even close to the scope of the city, but when a quarter of an hour had passed and she had finished memorizing every contour, street and alley of the metropolis it was somewhat disheartening to notice that the city still seemed to have come no closer. And the up-close view didn’t improve her opinion.
Gray Basin, the village of her origin had always given her a cold shoulder, but that was out of prejudice. Amongst one another the villagers were kind, jolly and talkative. Even blood enemies would have maintained a stiffly polite conversation. Here though, everyone was a stranger, and not just to her, but to each other. The people passed one another with nary a word of greeting or good day. Even when one would bump into another, the most they might exchange was a gruff but neutral grunt, which could hardly be accepted as acknowledgement let alone apology. It was all so cold. It made Lithium’s skin crawl in displeasure.
Remembering her lessons on internal balance, Lithium inhaled deeply, collected her thoughts and forced the negative ones into the pressure building in her chest. She pressed and pressed, squeezing every doubt and fear into her lungs, until they were ready to explode. Then she released the pent up air, and expelled the negativity along with the vapor of her breath. She repeated this several times until she felt entirely centered and serene.
Then Lithium opened her startling eyes, and began scanning the main road into the east side of the city for an appealing inn or tavern. There she could rent out a room until she found something more permanent and aesthetic. The monk felt that she might be here a while.
“Please—oh excuse me—please someone! Can someone tell me where I can find a city guard headquarters?” A thin reedy voice called out in the shifting mass of mortality, repeating its plea. As the young monk listened the voice drew nearer, until a small man, even compared to Lithium, pushed his way out of the slowly drifting crowd and into the small alley Lithium had discovered to take a break. Her penetrating gaze flickered over the small man, and it slowly dawned on her that this man was a Halfling.
Short, of course, though he was, the man was proportionally rather large. That is to say that the girth of his body was at severe odds with the thinness of his voice. He wore simple traveler’s clothing, and his cloak was browned, like Lithium’s robe, from the dust of recent travel. Gray flecked brown hair peeked out in short tuffs from beneath a conical, wide-brimmed hat, which cast a light shade on the man’s face.
The Halfling gasped and panted, apparently winded from the effort it took to both walk against the flow of the crowd and yell simultaneously. However, he was not long in catching his breath, and turned, noticing the young monk for the first time. Lithium, for her part, continued to watch him with a faint sense of impish curiosity. However the intensity of her eyes gave him pause, and forced him to consider if she was entirely sound of mind. But she was the only person showing the slightest bit of interest in him, so there might be a chance she would answer his question.
“Excuse me, my dear child,” Lithium blanched at being addressed in such a manner while the stump-sized man approached, “might you know the location of the nearest guard house?” Still twitching at the corner of her eye, Lithium cracked a dry grin, which severely shook the man’s image of how a child should act.
“No I do not,” his face fell in immediate disappointment, “nor would I know, as I am just arrived at this city myself.” His eyes narrowed at the incongruity of her words framed against the assumptions of his own mind.
“But, but you are just a child! Traveling alone on that dangerous road?!”
“I am not a child,” she said bluntly. The first time this had happened, it had been somewhat amusing, especially when Lithium had violently corrected the hapless highway man. Now, well past the twelfth occurrence, it was just downright annoying.
The Halfling looked like he had been struck in the face with a very large stick, or perhaps an iron skillet. He numbly, and ostentatiously, raked Lithium’s body with a blank stare, taking in the, before now, unnoticed mature curves. Then, as though a lens had slid into place, his oddly periwinkle eyes shifted into focus.
“Oh my Heavens! I am so sorry, my dear. Well… if you don’t… know where I can find…” he sputtered, flustered at his own mistake. “Well,” his voice took on a more stable, almost stern, tone, “I must be off!”
“What’s wrong?” He man stopped just at the edge of the crowd (of whom a few were glancing curiously at the alleyway spectacle), and turned, surprised at her interest. Lithium swung her legs, as they did not reach the ground from the height at which she sat, in mock childish innocence. The man, however, seemed happy, even eager, to tell his tale to someone, especially someone who wanted to hear.
“Oh, just the troubles of trade, my dear.” Lithium forced herself not to snort at his cliché mannerisms. “I’m part of a merchant train that runs through this island and for some inexplicable reason every wagon axel in the train broke within a few seconds of each other. The entire caravan is stopped a few miles up the north road.” Lithium tried to look appropriately aghast at the horrid scope of the catastrophe. She failed. The main looked disappointed.
“Can I help?” The man blinked.
“How?” He asked suspiciously, or perhaps skeptically.
“I’m pretty good with my hands when it comes to that kind of stuff, maybe I can help with the repairs.”
“Yes, well I suppose you could, but I was sent for help because we want the guard to send some help defending the train. Who knows what bandits might do to such an open invitation?”
“Don’t you hire your own guard?”
“Yes, but it’s really only enough to deter attackers, not some organized concerted assault.”
“Oh, I could help with that, too.” Now the man just seemed confused, and Lithium couldn’t help but laugh at his consternation. “Just take me there and I’ll help you out, Mr.—”
“Blastreph, just Blastreph.” He blinked then asked, “Are you, by chance, an especially tall Halfling?” A muscle under the young monk’s right eye twitched sporadically.
“No.”
“Pity.”
“Oh what a day!” Lithium cried, her pure melodious voice keening out into cerulean void that spanned the sky.
For the past few days, the young monk had grown to miss the sight of the sky. Even the gray churning of an overcast day seemed blissful compared to the unending collage of forest canopy. Her dreams, both day and night had been filled with images of floating tuffs of cotton drifting through a limitless sea of impossible blue. Even her nightmares held the sky as their main focus, showcasing furious storms that would have shaken the heavens and torn asunder the earth had they any ground in reality. That she would be met, nay, welcomed from her arboretum exile by such a perfect day was almost too much. Lest she break out into tears of joy, Lithium sped down road, laughing out her exultation, and luxuriating in the feel of the open air.
Fields of grain, maize and soy passed by her in a blur of green, yellow and brown. And even as the occasional farmer called out in curious puzzlement at her, worried as they mistook cries of glee for distress, the girl did not stop, or even notice. A mile vanished beneath her feet then two, three. Air burned in her lungs, unable to sustain their need and her heart hammered in her ears with the effort of its task. But it merely stimulated her to a greater pace, as she strove to out run the sun.
Finally, she stopped beneath a willow tree, gasping for air. A cool breeze carried the tree’s multitude of thin branches and twined them about the monk’s form. And though it was late summer, the wind was crisp and fresh, frigid with the breath of the mountains and memories of snowcapped peaks. The sensation brought a shiver to her slight form, and she paused, letting the sensation take her on a journey through the cold iron mountains. Then the breeze passed. The whip-like braches of the willow and the honeyed tresses of Lithium’s hair stilled. The images faded and the monk returned to the here and now, suckling in fondness the memory of her experience.
Li had told her before she left the shrine that many a hardship awaited her in the world. If that were true, it was necessary that Lithium treasure these clean and pure moments, lest she lose her sense of self to the mundane and ugliness the world would throw at her.
With a sigh, both sad and content, she returned to the road, which was now broken by the trenches of wagon tracks, baked solid in the sun but molded from past rains. Still, if she burned a bright enough flame… A smile, mischievous and defiant crept across her elfin face.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The sun was only a little past its zenith when Lithium arrived in Scara Brae. She was somewhat put out by that time. Having to look at the city from a distance for well over three hours before finally arriving had nearly exhausted her store of patience. Oh sure the first fifteen minutes of the view had been spectacular. Lithium had never seen anything even close to the scope of the city, but when a quarter of an hour had passed and she had finished memorizing every contour, street and alley of the metropolis it was somewhat disheartening to notice that the city still seemed to have come no closer. And the up-close view didn’t improve her opinion.
Gray Basin, the village of her origin had always given her a cold shoulder, but that was out of prejudice. Amongst one another the villagers were kind, jolly and talkative. Even blood enemies would have maintained a stiffly polite conversation. Here though, everyone was a stranger, and not just to her, but to each other. The people passed one another with nary a word of greeting or good day. Even when one would bump into another, the most they might exchange was a gruff but neutral grunt, which could hardly be accepted as acknowledgement let alone apology. It was all so cold. It made Lithium’s skin crawl in displeasure.
Remembering her lessons on internal balance, Lithium inhaled deeply, collected her thoughts and forced the negative ones into the pressure building in her chest. She pressed and pressed, squeezing every doubt and fear into her lungs, until they were ready to explode. Then she released the pent up air, and expelled the negativity along with the vapor of her breath. She repeated this several times until she felt entirely centered and serene.
Then Lithium opened her startling eyes, and began scanning the main road into the east side of the city for an appealing inn or tavern. There she could rent out a room until she found something more permanent and aesthetic. The monk felt that she might be here a while.
“Please—oh excuse me—please someone! Can someone tell me where I can find a city guard headquarters?” A thin reedy voice called out in the shifting mass of mortality, repeating its plea. As the young monk listened the voice drew nearer, until a small man, even compared to Lithium, pushed his way out of the slowly drifting crowd and into the small alley Lithium had discovered to take a break. Her penetrating gaze flickered over the small man, and it slowly dawned on her that this man was a Halfling.
Short, of course, though he was, the man was proportionally rather large. That is to say that the girth of his body was at severe odds with the thinness of his voice. He wore simple traveler’s clothing, and his cloak was browned, like Lithium’s robe, from the dust of recent travel. Gray flecked brown hair peeked out in short tuffs from beneath a conical, wide-brimmed hat, which cast a light shade on the man’s face.
The Halfling gasped and panted, apparently winded from the effort it took to both walk against the flow of the crowd and yell simultaneously. However, he was not long in catching his breath, and turned, noticing the young monk for the first time. Lithium, for her part, continued to watch him with a faint sense of impish curiosity. However the intensity of her eyes gave him pause, and forced him to consider if she was entirely sound of mind. But she was the only person showing the slightest bit of interest in him, so there might be a chance she would answer his question.
“Excuse me, my dear child,” Lithium blanched at being addressed in such a manner while the stump-sized man approached, “might you know the location of the nearest guard house?” Still twitching at the corner of her eye, Lithium cracked a dry grin, which severely shook the man’s image of how a child should act.
“No I do not,” his face fell in immediate disappointment, “nor would I know, as I am just arrived at this city myself.” His eyes narrowed at the incongruity of her words framed against the assumptions of his own mind.
“But, but you are just a child! Traveling alone on that dangerous road?!”
“I am not a child,” she said bluntly. The first time this had happened, it had been somewhat amusing, especially when Lithium had violently corrected the hapless highway man. Now, well past the twelfth occurrence, it was just downright annoying.
The Halfling looked like he had been struck in the face with a very large stick, or perhaps an iron skillet. He numbly, and ostentatiously, raked Lithium’s body with a blank stare, taking in the, before now, unnoticed mature curves. Then, as though a lens had slid into place, his oddly periwinkle eyes shifted into focus.
“Oh my Heavens! I am so sorry, my dear. Well… if you don’t… know where I can find…” he sputtered, flustered at his own mistake. “Well,” his voice took on a more stable, almost stern, tone, “I must be off!”
“What’s wrong?” He man stopped just at the edge of the crowd (of whom a few were glancing curiously at the alleyway spectacle), and turned, surprised at her interest. Lithium swung her legs, as they did not reach the ground from the height at which she sat, in mock childish innocence. The man, however, seemed happy, even eager, to tell his tale to someone, especially someone who wanted to hear.
“Oh, just the troubles of trade, my dear.” Lithium forced herself not to snort at his cliché mannerisms. “I’m part of a merchant train that runs through this island and for some inexplicable reason every wagon axel in the train broke within a few seconds of each other. The entire caravan is stopped a few miles up the north road.” Lithium tried to look appropriately aghast at the horrid scope of the catastrophe. She failed. The main looked disappointed.
“Can I help?” The man blinked.
“How?” He asked suspiciously, or perhaps skeptically.
“I’m pretty good with my hands when it comes to that kind of stuff, maybe I can help with the repairs.”
“Yes, well I suppose you could, but I was sent for help because we want the guard to send some help defending the train. Who knows what bandits might do to such an open invitation?”
“Don’t you hire your own guard?”
“Yes, but it’s really only enough to deter attackers, not some organized concerted assault.”
“Oh, I could help with that, too.” Now the man just seemed confused, and Lithium couldn’t help but laugh at his consternation. “Just take me there and I’ll help you out, Mr.—”
“Blastreph, just Blastreph.” He blinked then asked, “Are you, by chance, an especially tall Halfling?” A muscle under the young monk’s right eye twitched sporadically.
“No.”
“Pity.”