Release
The Never Ending Quest - Episode 13900
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The man awakens, all about him is light - clear and crisp. It is
something he has seen before, yet new. He looks down and sees he is
bound. Like leather straps and cords of willow the ties restrain him.
Like ropes of hemp and chains of metal they restrict him. Flashings
explode within the man's vision, yet he has eyes only for the ties that
bind him: the ties of fealty and order and decorum. An urge enters into
him, the reasons beyond his understanding: he must break these ties. An
understanding seeps into him, its origin a mystery: he is capable of
breaking these binds. He breathes in, his chest expanding, stretching the
straps, pushing the cords. He bursts forth! Driven by urges he does not
comprehend, the man reaches out to where he knows he must go. With the
bindings melting away from him, he heads toward the light - crisp and
clear.
Lars B'don sat on a stool outside a magic shop. Wit G'way -the Obligatory- was within making a few purchases. The rest of the Guard stood across the street making as much noise as possible. Such was life in a town that at any moment could pick itself up and disappear, such was life in a shadow city. Everything was transient. The buildings were ramshackle, the roads were dust, the vendors were migratory, and the Council little more than a joke (in most folk's opinions, anyway). It was important to take advantage of one's blessings, and to create blessings wherever a fool could be found (as the local vagabond's Guild says). A cry arose from across the street. One of the Guardsmen was thrown into the air and landed with a THUD! Another cried out before his own blood cut off his scream! There was a man in the middle of the Guard, he wore tan hides and a few plates of breast armor. He held a sword in one hand and was not burdened by the pack on his back. As he fought, he spoke - an unnervingly calm diatribe for a man in the midst of making death: "You little bags of ox dung! You didn't protect her, you let her die!" With those last words he slew Justan, but his sword caught between the folds of the man's armor and the folds of his fat. This sudden pause allowed the other Guards (those still living) to scramble from there. As for Lars, he was stone cold and hoping beyond hope that if he just sat still the strange madman would not notice him. Whether by luck or the will of some unknown god, the madman did leave -kicking a few dogs as he did so- and Lars breathed a sigh of relief. Just then Wit exited the magic shop. "Did I miss anything?" he asked in his annoyingly chirpy voice. Lars didn't even look at him. "I think there's a job opening in Greyton; nice, peaceful, out-of-harm's-way Greyton. I think I'll look into it."
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YY
7/15/2001 10:46:17 AM
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