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Aaediwen 
Posted: 23-Jan-2008, 07:17 PM
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When Aldrin awoke, he was still half hanging off the end of the bed where he had fallen asleep gazing out the window. It was early morning, and the rains had ceased. The wet and muddy world outside, however, mixed with the wet air, told that the skies had not been quiet for long. As he went downstairs, "Aldrin! How do you ever plan to learn anything moping around? Here, take this list of herbs to the market. and be sure you get the right ones this time!!


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oldraven 
Posted: 25-Jan-2008, 01:07 PM
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There was yet another letter of pardon to be written up, which had been rare until recent weeks, when the Magistrate had been summoned to the capitol. In his stead, a local Lord had been given the task of village affairs until his return, and that Lord had a tendency for leniency. It was a nice change, for Nathan, as it kept him in work. Executions and Imprisonment took no more than a note in a ledger kept by the Magistrate, but a Pardon required the drafting of multiple documents. One for the Pardoned, another for the Magistrate's records, and another for the King's Library. The sheer number of people absolved in this village in such a short period of time was sure to bring raised eyebrows when the letters arrived at the Palace, where they were relayed to the King himself before being stored in the great Library. The blank page awaited his quill and its master's scribbles. This was a town with few literate souls, but more than most. Even still, his knowledge of Court Documentation gave him a distinct advantage when being considered for such works.

Today he was scribing the freedom of a Farmhand who had been caught by his employer smuggling produce to a number of exiles. Two days prior, there was the release of a man who had become aggressive with a soldier. Rumours said he was fairly drunk at the time, and was retaliating to jeers from the soldiers, whom the man claimed had been dis-honouring his sister. It was Nathan's job to portray these people as victims of circumstance and misinformation. If stated as Thievery or Attacks on Soldiers, the King would no doubt have the charges reinstated, leaving his ability with wordplay a crucial factor.

This work, of course, was Nathan's means of keeping himself fed and beyond public scrutiny. It was mindless work, to him, and was of little interest, compared to the texts he typically had under his nose. His research for the Friends took up much of his time and nearly all of his skills. However, his passions lie in technical work.

He had spent years seeking out and documenting any form of contraption. His obsession with mechianix had taken him to all sorts of far reaching places in his short life of 33 years. The shores of Banta D'Rassa, the forests of Feistabonn, even the reeking sulphur pits of Durohn. Any device, no matter how simple, was of great importance to him, even if it consisted of a simple solitary axis. What he could not acquire for himself, he would spend days staring at, and sketching in his journal.

But today, he would simply finish the three letters and carry them to the Lord's residence. A little more than an hour's work produced three identical pages, which would be examined, signed, and sealed before the third was sent by horse to the Capitol. Nathan stood, stretched with many quiet cracking sounds, and slid the papers into his satchel. He went nowhere without the satchel now; usually hidden beneath his overcoat. A nervous wave went over him as he brushed his hand against the smooth wood and leather binding inside. And wait I must.

He stepped out the door, and moved along quickly to his destination, forgetting altogether about the lock.


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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: 27-Jan-2008, 10:18 AM
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Struggling to sit up in bed, Lisbeth comes awake with a jolt. Remembering that her father had invited several influential people over for tonight's meal, she groaned...knowing it would be her responsibility to oversee the ordeal and act as hostess as the lady of the house.
Throwing herself backwards into the pillows , she sighed, knowing she couldn't get out of doing it. She only hoped that her father hadn't invited any young men with which he hoped she would make a connection.
The men her father had paraded in front of her were all well respected, honorable men but as dull as milk toast. Lisbeth often wondered if she would ever find the kind of man of which she often dreamed.
Since she had escaped to her lessons yesterday, it would be too dangerous to try again today. Right now she would give anything for the freedom she loved, instead of this deadly boring dinner.

No help for it, she must get up and go about her duties as much as she wished it wasn't so.........
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oldraven 
Posted: 31-Jan-2008, 09:09 AM
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Nathan had made no stops on his way to the Lord's Hall. He had planned to make an appearance at the Melbin-Thyne frolic that evening, so his afternoon was to be spent gathering budding heather twigs and preparing his mask. The lane winding up the hill was a taxing one on foot, and fairly long, with smooth polished coble that was a hazard in the wet. The Mist had drifted off in the early morning, but the village was still covered in its wake.

He ascended the steps and hammered the iron knocker down three times, as was custom. The door was answered by the stern Cook, who ushered him in to take a seat and wait for instruction. Cook had seen Nathan, and greeted him at this very door a few times over the years, but she never seemed to make much of an effort to remember him. He always had to state his business upon entry, and she always asked to see the documents before showing him to a seat and trotting off to inform the Lord of the Hall, who would send for Nathan directly, or simply have a servant retrieve the delivery.

It was then that the young lady he had come upon by the alley yesterday came around the corner and passed nearly by without seeing him at all, again. Standing, with a short bow, Nathan said, Well, if it isn't the young lady in the puddle. How do you do this fine day, miss? I'm glad to say The Mist did indeed clear off before long.
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leenie 
Posted: 31-Jan-2008, 06:28 PM
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As she hurried down the hall, her mind on the days chores, Lisbeth was startled by a nearby voice. Turning she saw a large man holding a satchel seated in the entry hall.
When what he had said registered in her mind, Lisbeth's mouth dropped open. Who was this man and how did he know about her mishap yesterday?
Regaining her composure, Lisbeth walked toward the man and said "Pardon me but I don't believe I know you."
Awaiting an answer, Lisbeth stared at the stranger, trying to figure out how he knew. After making it safely to her room yesterday, was her secret about to be exposed by him?
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oldraven 
Posted: 01-Feb-2008, 08:35 AM
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Oh, my.. this isn't a servant at all. Nathan felt the sweat creeping to the surface when he realised the girl he so casually addressed was indeed a Lady of the house. Surprising, because he was under the impression that the Lord had no wife, let alone one so young. He quickly lowered his bow to a more fitting degree, and said, Forgive me my Lady. I did not mean to speak out of propriety. Straightening, but attempting not to tower over the girl, he added an explanation. Yesterday, by the alley, I was mere seconds away from making your incident yesterday a three way collision. I guess I was right in thinking you hadn't seen me at all. Again, please forgive my loose candour. Nathan wasn't so sure wordplay would help him here.
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leenie 
Posted: 01-Feb-2008, 07:31 PM
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Lisbeth was so relieved that for a moment she was afraid she had heaved a sigh of relief out loud.... he was just a stranger who happened to be on the street yesterday and unfortunately had seen the accident between her and the young man. Surely he was here on business with her father. "No harm done sir for yesterday I was so lost in thought that I'm afraid it was I who caused the accident" Lisbeth said "Are you waiting to speak to my Father?"
Before the man could answer, Edith the Cook entered the hall and called to him to follow her.
Taking one last look over her shoulder, Lisbeth went on to the kitchen in search of something to break her fast.
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jime307 
Posted: 18-May-2008, 06:47 PM
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The Hooves of his horse thundered against the ground as Hugh rode into the small town.
The young knight looked about as he slowed his horse to a walk. Many townsfolk looked at him as he rode deeper into the town. He asked a man wandering about where the best place to stay was, and just where was he? He rode to the Inn, this was just the town he was looking for. He would request a meeting with the Lord the next day however.


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