Clutching Fingers in the Shadows
The Never Ending Quest - Episode 9179
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"Well," Lord Frederigo D'Honaire explained, "I think I was shaken from the
dream while they were searching me. Apparently," he said, reaching into
his tabard and drawing forth a small scrap of twisted metal on a thong
about his neck, "they couldn't touch this. Little scrap of dross I've
saved ever since one of my father's men tried to teach me blacksmithing.
Were it a little bigger, I would have tried to use it further, but as it
was, I could only ward them off with it long enough to free Andrea." Astra of Aquilaria considered this. It seemed plausible enough, at least for now... Lady Andrea Croix awoke stiff and spattered in gore. As her heightened emotional state had faded, so had her bestial form, it seemed. She muzzily recalled the phrenetic yet pleasurable activities of the previous night, and remembered that a gibbous moon was in the sky. She might not be able to work herself up enough to bring the change on again just yet, but she reassured herself that before the week was out, the moon would be full, and she would know its caress. She saw how far she had traveled when she spotted the building through the trees, a water mill, fed by a stream. Waving in the cool breeze was a clothesline. Apparently the miller's wife was letting her laundry dry. This close to civilization, Andrea's present state just wouldn't do. Rising to a crouch, she darted, a quick sprint and snatched a dress from the line. She heard a shout from the small thatched house near the mill, but she was off and running again before she could answer it. She made her way downstream with haste, and when out of sight, she stopped. Andrea hastily washed herself and threw the still somewhat damp dress over her head. It was an ill fit, but it would have to do. She wasn't certain how good a look the miller's wife got of her before she had ran off, so Andrea tied her hair back with a strip of rag torn from the dress, and made her way into the nearby village. She made sure, of course, to tuck her ears behind her hair. It was a small place, mostly artisans peddling wares that wouldn't sell at a keep or castle. Andrea's feet had toughened over her travels, so she didn't mind the feel of the cobblestones against her soles. Andrea felt uncertain as she walked the streets, and this sensation made her almost giddy. There was something deliciously forbidden about a highborn girl like her walking the streets of some no-name hamlet barefoot, as if she were a street urchin. Andrea managed a nervous smile as she leaned on a building corner next to an alleyway, just before a rough, lined hand clasped over her mouth, dragging her into the alley. Andrea tried to scream, but the hand was pressed too tightly to her mouth. Nothing seemed to offer itself, even the change seemed to have abandoned her. Her captor spoke. "You came...just like she said you would...but are you the right one?" The man's other hand came out and felt her face and her body as if exploring her. He was filthy, and she felt obviously violated, though he did not feel her in private places. "Yes, it is you, then. In a moment, here, I am going to release my hand from your mouth. You are not going to scream, because the burgher's men have already been summoned by the miller's wife for the dress you stole." Andrea couldn't fathom how this stranger knew so much, or why he recognized her, but out of the corner of her eye she could see two burly thugs accompanied by the miller's wife, searching the street. She had to take her captor at his word. Turning around, she saw him face to face the first time. He looked young, probably no older than sixteen, but the numerous scars which marred his frame said he had seen much. He was dressed in rags, no doubt stolen, and a final rag covered his eyes. He was blind. "Who...who are you?" Andrea stammered out in a whisper. "I am Jarlath the Finder, last surviving apprentice of the ruined tower of Ilxior, and I have been waiting for you a long time...
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5/6/2000 5:06:14 PM
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