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Aaediwen 
Posted: 14-Jan-2008, 08:01 PM
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Across the prarie sea, the winds dance, carrying the rains from the distant sea and sprinkling their life giving moisture over the small town of fearbris. The townsolk dart around trying to race the weather and get their chores done without getting wet.


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Aaediwen 
Posted: 14-Jan-2008, 08:06 PM
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Muttering under his breath, a young lad, in his late teens pulls his cloak up tight around him to ward off the rain as he darts through the streets. "Dad'll have my hide if these papers get ruined in the rain!". he thought.

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oldraven 
Posted: 16-Jan-2008, 10:47 AM
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Nathan wanted nothing more than to strip off all of his water-proof clothing and head back for bed. But there were things to do, friends to meet, and events to.... organise.


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"I am a Canadian by birth, but I am a Highlander by blood and feel under an obligation to do all I can for the sake of the Highlanders and their literature.... I have never yet spoken a word of English to any of my children. They can speak as much English as they like to others, but when they talk to me they have to talk in Gaelic."

-Alexander Maclean Sinclair of Goshen (protector of Gaelic Culture)

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leenie 
Posted: 16-Jan-2008, 08:32 PM
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Young Lisbeth hurries through the streets, aware that she is running out of time. "Oh why did I tarry so long." she thought. " Now it's going to storm and I'll never be able to explain how my gown became so wet." she muttered as she tore around the corner and into another figure hurrying the other way.

With a startled yelp, Lisbeth falls backward and lands in a large puddle, while several papers flutter down around her.

She gives the hapless young man a glare and in a huffy voice says, "well are you going to help me up or just stand there all day looking at me."
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Aaediwen 
Posted: 16-Jan-2008, 08:53 PM
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YIPE!!!! *THUD* *SPLAT*
"Ohh, I'm in for it now! Father's gonna kill me!"

Looking around while trying to collect the papers he'd dropped, Aldrin saw the person he had run in to. A rather frusterated, yet attactive young lady was half glaring at him from across a muddy puddle of water. He nearly dropped the papers again.

Now standing and reaching to help her up, he tries to appologize, "Ohh my, miss! I'm so sorry! I really should watch more where I am going. How clumsy of me. Here, let me help you to your feet."
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oldraven 
Posted: 17-Jan-2008, 08:47 AM
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Nathan, head shrouded in his oiled leather hood, pushed out the door and up the street, pausing only to close the lock and give it a firm tug. He was the only one on the row who owned a lock, which some said was more an invitation for thieves than none at all. He'd take the risk, though. It was a crowded enough neighbourhood to bring torches at the sound of a splintering door.

As he rounded the corner and passed through the alleyway, he heard voices on the adjoining street. Instinctively, Nathan placed his hand on the book satchel hanging at his waist.

They could just as easily be heading to the same place you are. He thought to himself. Realising he was skulking in the shadows, he shook himself and stepped out, chin up and grinning to show no secrecy. Good day to you. I pray The Mist pushes off before long. He said, placing his thumb in his left pocket. Cursing The Mist was a common greeting on such days, but the thumb was a subtle thing known by few as a call to unknown Friends. If they were indeed on the way to the same place, he would know quickly enough.
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leenie 
Posted: 17-Jan-2008, 10:19 AM
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Accepting the hand of the young man, Lisbeth rises to her feet and stares in dismay at her cloak and gown.

"Whatever will I do now ? she thinks. "I'll be punished for sure this time."

Finally jolted out of her thoughts by the fumbling of the young man as he is trying to brush muddy water from her cloak, she whirls around and stomps off down the street.

Hearing footsteps from behind, she glances back to see the young man following.

"Why pray tell are you following me?" asks Lisbeth. Knowing every second wasted is putting her more at risk.

The young man just points toward Lisbeth's feet. Looking down she sees that she has one of his papers stuck to her boot. Sighing, she bends and removes the paper which has some very interesting markings upon it.

Handing it to the young man, she once again starts toward home.
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oldraven 
Posted: 17-Jan-2008, 12:10 PM
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The girl in the soiled gown is a determined one., Nathan thought to himself. It's as though she hadn't seen me at all. She was obviously not a Friend, but the symbols he caught in a glance at the young man's soaked papers showed that he carried documents far too sensitive for such a careless public display.

He watched the young lady storm off a little longer than intended, cleared his throat, and asked the fellow, Do you need some help with those pages, young man? Nathan stooped and picked up a sheet of particular interest. You wouldn't want to ruin texts with such apparent age.
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Aaediwen 
Posted: 17-Jan-2008, 11:46 PM
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"Thank you, sir!"

Gathering the last of the papers from the stranger and from the ground, Aldrin quickly darts under an awning while streightening out the papers and attempting to check that they are all accounted for.

Thanking the stranger again, he darts on home.




After enduring quite a bit of ranting, including something about the local lord, extra taxes, and sharp blades, Aldrin finally escaped to some small measure of solitude in his own small room in the loft of the modest home he shared with his father. His mother had died some years earlier giving birth to his stillborn sister, Ever since then his father had been so enveloped in his work that the only way that Aldrin could find time to even talk to him had been by taking what amounted to a apprenticeship with the ragged old mage. Not quite his first choice, to be running errands, but it was better than the alternative, he figured. As he sat gazing out the window at new swords at a smithy's shop across the way.
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leenie 
Posted: 18-Jan-2008, 09:08 AM
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At last Lisbeth comes to the house she has been hurrying toward. Now to just get inside without anyone seeing the condition of her dress. Scurrying around to the servants entrance, she slowly opens the door and peeks inside. No one in sight...now to just get up the stairs and into her room....

" Lisbeth! What have you done to yourself?" a voice asks. Cringing Lisbeth turns and sees Cook in the dark corner by the fireplace. "I just got caught out at the shops a little longer than I thought I would be and the rain started before I could get home" she told the old woman. Raising an eyebrow, the old woman just looked at Lisbeth. "I'll just go to my room now and change before dinner" Lisbeth said inching toward the back stairs.

Racing up the stairs, she knew that the old woman wouldn't say anything to her father, because as stern as she looked, the old woman was like a second mother to her. Since her mother had died of a fever 10 years before, the old woman had practically raised Lisbeth. Her father was always too busy with the estate and his duties to pay her much mind. Unless she did something to displease him, which would happen today if she were caught.

She thought again of the young man she had ran into on the street. Having time to think about it now she realized what a handsome young man he was and wondered what he was doing with the papers.
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oldraven 
Posted: 18-Jan-2008, 10:07 AM
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A courteous fellow, I'll give him that, if not entirely cautious. Nathan mused. *BONG* He started, at the loud clang from the bell tower up the row. Had he lost that much time picking papers? And what papers. He nearly followed the boy to his destination, in an attempt to find out who had such documents in their possession, but previous engagements had his time wrapped up.

Whilst he walked, he thought about the thumb gesture. I'm a fool. Two children in an alley, and I question their alliances. I'd be better for asking a dog the Path to Shangrei. He was doubtlessly becoming more paranoid by the day. He entered a bakery on Shepherd's Crossing, and with a nod to the clerk headed for the hallway at the back. The hall went from left to right, Nathan taking the latter, and had the odd door to a store room and ovens. But his destination was the far wall. There was the familiar crack in the plaster, and reaching his left thumb into the hole, he pressed down on the hidden latch, giving a positive clunk. The wall gave a lurch and swung toward him, revealing a heavy wooden door behind. It opened into another alley, but this alley had no beginning and no end. It was a forgotten space between several buildings, that had been closed off from the streets long before anyone could remember. There were no windows overlooking the alley either, and this was one of only two doors. Pulling the passage closed behind him, Nathan quietly padded down the path to the plain wood door with a viewing slot. He simply waited at the door for the keeper to appear behind the port. No words were exchanged. The keeper stared out while Nathan raised his left thumb, revealing one solitary spot in the centre of the pad. With a nod, the man stepped back and opened the way for his entry.

The small room beyond, hardly big enough for the two of them, had a musty smell mixed with the odour wafting from the keeper, and the door beyond bore the symbol of a feather spearing a hand. He opened the door and walked in, pulling his cowl back and shaking his head. The thirteen people sitting at the table were deep in discussion, hardly noticing his entry but one. Friend Nathan! Dragging your heels in The Mist again, I see. The stout man, wearing a false scowl with hints of a smirk at the corners of his mouth, pointed at him with an ornately carved wooden feather. Come and sit. We have no time for a formal introduction. You know some by name, but you will have to learn the rest as we go along. Motioning to a chair to his left, he waited for Nathan to take his place and do his part.

Nathan untied the satchel and produced a wood-bound text and laid it on the table near the centre for all to see the symbol mimicking the door through which he entered. Gasps and murmurs filled the small but well lit room. Yes, it has been found.
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Cookie Mans Wife 
Posted: 19-Jan-2008, 06:04 PM
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Traveling is so tedious when it's raining, Aaralyn thinks to herself. Weary and hungry from the days travels, she wanders into the town to rest. As she walks through the town she sees only one person who is cloaked and hunched over to protect themselves from the downpour. Looking around, she stumbles onto the inn/pub. "I hope these are friendly types", she mutters to herself before opening the door.
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oldraven 
Posted: 21-Jan-2008, 04:36 PM
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~He has brought it this far. I think that proves his worth in the task we're faced with.~ The words still rang in his head. They didn't exude much confidence in Nathan, but they were enough to quell the rise of voices in the small meeting room.

The instructions were vague too. He was to gather what belongings he needed for the journey, and wait. There was no mention of when or where he would be taking the book, or to whom. The book was not opened, of course. That would be far to much of a risk so early on. The Key was there, but all agreed that it should be left alone. They all had to agree. It was entrusted to Kafhin by a unanimous vote of the Friends Council nearly 40 years before, and the choice was ultimately his. A strange circumstance, given the nature of the organisation.

Nathan finally returned to his home, being the sixth to leave the Council. They could not all be seen leaving the same Bakery at the same time, so they spaced their departures and their order at random, using a gadget made just for such a purpose. It was made, as most things involved with the group seem to be, at an unknown time by an unknown associate. By the time he slipped the key into the lock, the sun was nearly on its' return. He slept uneasily, with the satchel under his arm, and his dreams flashed glyphs and tossed papers until waking.
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Cookie Mans Wife 
Posted: 23-Jan-2008, 02:05 PM
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Aaralyn pushes the door open to the pub and was greeted with the sounds of chatter and music playing in the background. There were quite a few people gathered inside, some playing cards, others gathered around the bar toasting friends and championships alike and some keeping to themselves, staring into their drinks as though they were having quiet conversations that only they could hear. Aaralyn approached the bar still cloaked, to order food and drink. Other's notice the newcomer to their pub...they see a woman, roughly 29 years of age, about 5'5", with piercing blue eyes, very pale skin and wisps of blond hair escaping from her hood. Some stare while others take a look and go back to what they were doing.

The bartender asks "What can I get ye?" " I would like a pint of ale, and a bowl of your stew with some bread, please" says Aaralyn. She pays the bartender and heads over to the warm fireplace to sit and enjoy the warmth and fill her stomach. Still...others are paying close attention...... very close attention indeed...."Hopefully their just curious because I'm new around here", Aaralyn hopes....
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leenie 
Posted: 23-Jan-2008, 07:39 PM
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Having made it safely to her room, Lisbeth takes a deep breath and tries to still her racing heart. Why oh why did it have to be this way? Why couldn't women do everything that men did? Lisbeth wished that her mother was still alive, perhaps she would understand the yearnings she felt in her heart.

Lisbeth walked over to the window and peered out at the dreary gardens stretched out behind the manor house. She knew that she was lucky indeed to be the daughter of a Lord, but she wanted so much more from life than to be a housewife for the rest of her days.

Her father had already hinted more than once that it was past time for her to wed, but she was sure that no one would understand her and besides she vowed to only wed for love.
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