The Fur Huntress

[markkeen]

<DIV><FONT size=2> <P>The snow was falling heavier now. The wind flung flakes formed a curtain of white, near impossible to see through. Bluebele trudged back to her sled carrying the last of the pelts. Her gloved hands were sore and numb, and she moved with weariness after a long and successful hunt.</P> <P>Her one-man sled was piled high with ice wolf pelts, all salted and rolled, and neatly packed. They would fetch a good sum in Qeynos.</P> <P>Bluebele finished loading her loot, wiped some of the snow from her sleeves, and pulled her hood more firmly about her face. In the gradually worsening conditions she could see very little, but she could sense a storm moving in from the north. It was a long hike to the Everfrost docks to the south. Yet the ship that was waiting for her there would provide a hot meal and a mug of ale. Not to mention a change of clothes and a warm bed.</P> <P>Shaking off her tiredness and hunger, she resolved to get back to the ship as quickly as possible. She picked up the harness and set her shoulders forward, leaning into the straps and the weight behind her. Slowly the sled began to move. Her tracks made a large arc through the snow as she set her path southward.</P> <P>The going was easy once the momentum was built, if a little slippery. Her boots crunched through the new snow effortlessly. Despite the lack of vision, the way ahead was simple to follow as it passed through a narrow gully with sheer ice walls. Bluebele pushed on, head down, and her footsteps beating a steady rhythm.</P> <P>So it was that she did not hear or see the wolf before it slammed into her. The world revolved suddenly as she found herself flung to the ground, her right arm tangled in the sled harness. She rolled onto her back and managed to free her arm, but the wolf was nearly on top of her. It was large; an alpha male. Its eyes blazed death. She could smell its hot breath as it snarled, canines showing.</P> <P>As she scrabbled backwards on her hands through the wet snow, Bluebele kicked furiously at the wolf's snout. Space, she needed to create some space. In a lucky strike, the sole of her right boot hit the wolf squarely on the nose. He yelped with pain, and hesitated slightly in his onslaught. It was barely enough time, but Bluebele leapt to her feet. In one swift movement she drew both her short sword and dagger, and stood poised.</P> <P>She didn't have to wait long. Now enraged, the wolf lunged. In a single well-rehearsed manoeuvre Bluebele brought up her short sword, and swiftly darted to her right. As the wolf leapt into the space, where moments before, she had been standing, the flat of her blade slammed under its chin. In that instant, with the wolf still dazed, she thrust her dagger into its throat and yanked it sideways.</P> <P>As the wolf collapsed into the snow Bluebele crouched beside it and wiped the blood from her blades on its wet fur. Briefly Bluebele considered its pelt. It was always a shame to kill a wolf and not make use of its carcass, but she had neither the time or the energy to skin it. Bluebele walked swiftly back to her sled.</P> <P>It was only then that she noticed the cub. It crawled up to the dead wolf on its belly. It sniffed at the carcass and pushed at it with its nose as though trying to wake it. As Bluebele watched the cub in silence, it suddenly became aware of her. It met her gaze forlornly, with wide frightened eyes.</P> <P>It was rare for loan wolves to attack humans. This wolf had been desperate indeed. And now Bluebele could see why. The young cub was half starved. Its coat was matted and patchy. What had happened to its mother or the rest of the pack was all too obvious during the hunting season. Even with her own sled loaded with pelts Bluebele felt no guilt; humans needed fur, such was the way of the world. What she did feel though was pity. She could not leave the wolf cub here to die.</P> <P>Slowly she approached the cub. Bluebele had been afraid it might flee, but as she drew near it pushed itself flatter into the snow. It buried its snout pathetically between its front paws. Bluebele cupped her hands about its waist and lifted it from the snow. It was lighter than expected. And cold. As she turned it about it snuggled against her chest with its nose to her neck.</P> <P>Bluebele pressed it tight against her. "Let's go home" she said.</P></FONT></DIV>

[MysidiaDrakkenbane]

<DIV>Awww. =(</DIV> <DIV> </DIV> <DIV>Please continue. This was a really great start.</DIV>

[Ekuthh]

Indeed.

[PsychoCann]

Great start <img src="/smilies/8a80c6485cd926be453217d59a84a888.gif" border="0" alt="SMILEY" />Hope the house training goes well ^_^  <div></div>

[markkeen]

<FONT size=2> <P>The tiny office, above the provisioners in North Qeynos, sported one small window to the north overlooking the Qeynos Claymore. Every ounce of wall space was lined with shelves, floor to ceiling, and crammed full of historical curiosities: intricate figurines, arcane tomes, scrolls, and valuable antiques. The room needed a good clean, however that did not concern the room's sole occupant.</P> <P>Eversong sat at his cluttered desk, his back to the window. As a jeweller and a collector, he had an eye for the rare and valuable. Today, though, he was responding to the guild's mail. He had just sealed his latest missive, and now he applied his insignia to the hot red-coloured wax. The bow, sword, and staff, set upon a rising sun signified the "Army of Heros". The guild was ascending fast. Already it possessed small political influence at the Qeynos court.</P> <P>As a guild of equals, with no hierarchy, Eversong was not sure how he came to represent them. However as a High Elf, it seemed only natural that he take a lead; he had the best mind and mannerisms, he was socially adept, and eloquent. A leader of a previous guild had confessed that some members found him arrogant, and said that he had behaved as though he were a lord and better than them. Too right. He always felt it a mistake to openly associate his pure High Elf blood with ratangas, assassins, and other denizens of Freeport.</P> <P>Eversong broke the seal on an official scroll bearing the stamp of the guild register. His lobbying had paid dividends. The members of the Army of Heros had been granted the right to purchase townhouses in South Qeynos. Also he had successfully negotiated a quota of faster mounts, at reduced cost. They still did not have access to the best horses Qeynos could provide, but that was something that could be changed.</P> <P>The final letter, Eversong had purposely left to last. It bore no proper seal, but from its perfume he suspected it to be from Bluebele. He had not heard from her in over two weeks. His hands shook ever so slightly as he prised it open.</P> <P>It seemed Bluebele was doing rather well. Somehow she had adopted a playful ice wolf cub that she had called Springer. She had also excelled in her new guild, already making the rank of Senior Member. She had, in fact, been offered the role of Officer, but had turned it down. That was something Eversong would rebuke her for when he replied. He would urge her that it was probably not too late to change her mind. Still, he smiled with pride as he digested the rest of her news.</P> <P>The Army of Heroes had a special relationship with Bluebele. Most in the guild thought it due solely to the fact that she was an ex-member, or because of their business arrangement; Bluebele harvested raw goods for them from inhospitable lands such as The Feerrott, or The Sinking Sands. In return they provided her with such armour and equipment as they could make. It was an arrangement that worked well. Few in the guild could venture safely where Bluebele strode. Eversong smiled again as he mused that soon she would even surpass his talent for adventure.</P> <P>Suddenly the office door blew open, and a gust of air disarrayed several parchments, and much dust. Eversong lurched to his feet, coughing, and hurriedly closed the door. Odd. The door catch seemed to be working.</P> <P>Eversong turned about and was shocked and angered to see a young dark-haired woman sitting in his chair, with her feet on his desk. She grinned at him, fanning herself with Bluebele's letter.</P> <P>"Tanya, really, you have no business coming here." Eversong stormed back to the desk and straightened some of the papers. He snatched the letter from Tanya's hand.</P> <P>Tanya seemed more pleased than ever to get such a reaction. "Interesting trick, don't you think?" Her eyes beamed triumphantly. Responding to Eversong's still stern expression, she slid her feet from the desk, and vacated his chair. She indicated a package on the desk. "New supplies" she said. "See I do have every business."</P> <P>"Ah, the potions" Eversong remarked. "But, couldn't you have used the mail or a courier?"</P> <P>"Potions, yes. And poisons." Tanya pronounced the word carefully while meeting Eversong's stare with a challenge of her own.</P> <P>Eversong had regained the territory of his desk and chair, but felt himself flinch slightly under her searching gaze. "Still, it's dangerous for you to be here. As a Freeport citizen you could be executed on sight. I hope no one saw you."</P> <P>Tanya smiled and suddenly found amusement in wiping a finger through the dust on one of the shelves. " I bet I could find some interesting fungi samples here for my Alchemy experiments. Of course nobody saw me."</P> <P>Eversong sighed as he sat himself down. A member of the Army of Heros Tanya might be; he trusted and respected her, but he could not fathom what motivated her, or why all conversation with her became so difficult. In short, she exasperated him. "Tanya, if you are seen here everything we have worked for as a guild is undone. Please do not do this again."</P> <P>"I see Bluebele has written again." Tanya regarded Eversong coyly.</P> <P>"Yes yes" Eversong stammered. "She's managed to get hold of some Succulent Roots."</P> <P>"Good. Though highly dangerous for her... But ah, she has my poison. I only make it. She applies it to her weapons..."</P> <P>Eversong could feel himself getting rattled. Why did she keep on about the poison? Nobody was completely pure hearted. He tried for a close. "Let's drop this subject, shall we? We both have work to do."</P> <P>Tanya approached his chair. She seemed sympathetic as she took his hand. "Dear Eversong, I know you have a soft spot for Bluebele, but please let her go. She left us willingly enough."</P> <P>Eversong shook his head. "You don't understand. It's not like that" he said.</P> <P>"I know men" Tanya smiled as she placed Eversong's hand to her bosum. "What could Bluebele ever offer you that I could not, and in a much more pleasing way?"</P> <P>"No!" Eversong yelled as he leapt to his feet, pushing Tanya away. "Please go! Now!"</P> <P>Tanya left with a snarl, and an undignified slamming of the door behind her. Eversong could not still his shaking until long after she had gone. The past, it was coming back to haunt him. Why had he let Tanya rile him into betraying his emotions? He should have remained calm and disinterested. Yet how could he? His emotions were too strong, unsettling even.</P> <P>It would ruin his family's reputation if the truth ever came out. But to deny this truth cost him dearly. He had betrayed his pure High Elf blood, and his family line, by loving a human. The resultant child was only a Half Elf, but Bluebele was his daughter.</P></FONT>

[markkeen]

<DIV><I><FONT size=2> <P>Taken from a scroll written by Tanya, detailing her first, inauspicious, meeting with Gartug. Since they were to later become steadfast friends the reader would be wise to be wary of the truth of this whimsical tale.</P></FONT></I><U><FONT face=Arial size=2> <P>Moving Up In The World</P></FONT></U> <P>Tanya checked her mail at the post station in Beggar’s Court. It had been two weeks since she’d replied to the advert, but so far she’d received no response. Today was no exception. As the days had passed, Tanya had felt a growing unease; a sense that something was wrong. Now she felt positively sickened.</P> <P>Sending two gold, through the post, to a complete stranger had been foolish really, but the poster-size advertisement had been bright and cheerful: "Magically imbued ashen staves only 2 gold each while stocks last!" She did need a new staff, and the act of blind faith appealed to her cultivated sense of false naivety.</P> <P>Tanya looked naïve enough. Her pretty face and green eyes were the perfect picture of innocence; a young woman alone in a hostile city. Such a portrait often brought chivalrous attention, even from the selfish citizens of Freeport. In reality the Warlock power of poison and disease surged through her veins. Ironically her unblemished skin lay in direct contrast to the chaos and decay she was capable of wielding. And now she determined to use that power.</P> <P>Tanya still remembered the address in Big Bend where she had sent her money. It was probably too late do achieve anything because she suspected the fraudster would undoubtedly have moved on, but it was the only lead she had, so she fastened her cloak and set off for the docks.</P> <P>Big Bend is perhaps the most disgusting place in all of Freeport, full of smelly unwashed ogres and trolls, and none more disgusting than Skagga and her signs made of zombie flesh.</P> <P>Soon Tanya arrived at the address given on the poster. She knocked several times before the door was opened. The largest ogre she had ever seen stood crouched in the doorway. He didn’t look too bright or friendly. "What you want?" he snarled.</P> <P>"It’s business," said Tanya, "and will be worth your while, but we can’t discuss it here on the street."</P> <P>The ogre hesitated. Thoughts passed transparently across his face as he pondered Tanya’s words. "Come in," he eventually said.</P> <P>The single room looked sparse and uncomfortable, and stank. Tanya had to overcome a desire to vomit.</P> <P>"What you want?" demanded the ogre.</P> <P>On the solitary table was a parchment that looked familiar. Tanya moved towards the table, then turning to the ogre said, "I want my two gold back that I sent you!"</P> <P>The ogre flinched then stiffened. "You misunderstand. Gartug poor refugee. Only just moved here three days ago."</P> <P>Tanya picked up the parchment from the table and waved it at the ogre. It was a brightly coloured advertisement exactly like the one she had seen. She threw it at the ogre’s feet. "The paint is still wet!"</P> <P>Gartug the ogre howled at seeing his colourful work thrown to the floor. He raised his arms to the ceiling and boomed. "Silly little girl. Gartug going to break your bones!" He lurched forward. His fists, as heavy as hammers, swung violently at Tanya’s head.</P> <P>Tanya ducked, and thrust forward her staff. The incantation barely left her lips as the staff smashed into the ogre’s chest. A loud explosion of energy was followed by a long hiss as a cloud of poisonous green gas filled the room. Tanya took a step backward and waited.</P> <P>As the room cleared, the ogre could not be seen. Left on the floor, where he had stood, was only a heap of old clothes. Something within the pile moved. Then suddenly out jumped a toad! It leapt into the corner and wearily eyed the Warlock from a distance. "Ribbet ribbet!" it croaked.</P> <P>Tanya smiled at the toad, then hurriedly searched the room. On a shelf near the table was a pouch containing 50 gold coins. Tanya reflected on how she might return this money to the people that had been conned.</P> <P>She weighed the pouch in her hand. On second thoughts she had always fancied living in East Freeport. She had heard that the living was good by the docks. She pocketed her find and left for the city.</P> <P>Tanya was moving up in the world!</P></DIV><p>Message Edited by markkeen on <span class=date_text>09-19-2006</span> <span class=time_text>04:40 AM</span>

[MysidiaDrakkenbane]

Oh! Very good. I'm really enjoying this. I wouldn't be surprised at all if this ended up in the treasure chest.

[markkeen]

<DIV>Thank you for the kind words and encouragement Mysidia. I am also reading my way through your work and thus far enjoying it. I don't feel able to comment there though until I catch up!</DIV>

[MysidiaDrakkenbane]

<DIV>=)</DIV> <DIV> </DIV> <DIV>I have to say, I love how you worked the game mechanics into your story (about working up the guild levels). Clever on your part and gave it a realistic feel from a character's perspective. </DIV> <DIV> </DIV> <DIV>I am curious about how you are going to work in that ice wolf pup into the story, though.</DIV>

[Seraphias]

I am loving this story! I love how you are starting with back stories and allowing us to really get to know the characters.

[markkeen]

<DIV><FONT size=2> <P>Bluebele gently prodded her cheek with the fingers of her left hand as she examined her face in the mirror. There was a lot of blood. The careless oaf had cut her. It had been a bad end to a bad day.</P> <P>Coming home from the Sinking Sands, a young Brigand had hailed her and invited her to duel. At first she had refused. The wiry man had seemed rather brash, and Bluebele could clearly see he was at least four seasons less experienced in his chosen profession than she. Also she didn't like duelling; duelling was a close quarter combat affair. Rangers just weren't built for it. She preferred range, time to aim, and take down prey as cleanly as possible.</P> <P>Bluebele shook her head and walked on, but the fellow was persistent. He even offered her a one-sided bet. If he lost, he would give Bluebele a platinum coin. If he won, she would owe him nothing.</P> <P>Bluebele was tired, sticky with sweat, and plastered with sand. The cool breeze that floated inshore from the sea held little power over the stifling dry heat of the desert, even at its edge. It tantalised more than cooled, reminding her that all she really wanted was to bathe and sleep. Yet somehow she found herself agreeing to his terms.</P> <P>A circle had already been drawn in the sand. The brigand stood on one edge. Bluebele took up a position diametrically opposite him, and unslung her longbow. The rules of the duel were that no blood was to be drawn; combatants were to hold back from causing serious damage. Points were scored for hits, and would be tallied. Five clear hits to win.</P> <P>Bluebele had a stock of blunted practice arrows in her quiver. She adjusted their position for easy access, then notched one, and aimed. She intended to score one clear hit before her assailant closed in on her. If she was lucky, she'd get two, and then she would try to kite the brigand; keeping him at distance, while running backwards around the edge of the arena. She'd done it before, but not for some time, and fervently hoped she'd get it right.</P> <P>The duel referee raised a spotted red hanky. When it dropped to the ground, the duel would begin. Bluebele pulled the bowstring taut. She aimed directly at the brigand's chest. Keenly she felt her reputation at stake here.</P> <P>The handkerchief dropped to the ground. All set to release her arrow, the brigand suddenly vanished! It took a second for her to realise why she had lost her target; he had stealthed away to the side. Suddenly he came at her from behind. Instinctively she twisted, shouldered her bow, and drew her falcion and stiletto, but not before the brigand had scored two points.</P> <P>Backing away, repeatedly fending off his blows, she resorted to the oldest trick in a scouts repertoire. In a Cheap Shot she kicked a clod of sand at her opponents eyes. While he was momentarily stunned she opened up a gap of ten metres. In an instant she had her longbow redrawn, an arrow notched, and she fired. Spot on target. That was a hit for her! Unexpectedly though something also hit her, and her vision blurred.</P> <P>Disorientated, she fumbled her weapons. The brigand moved in for the kill. She was almost glad that the rest of the fight was over so quickly. She had lost, five points to one. She felt a disgrace to her class.</P> <P>The brigand smirked as he held a potion vial to his lips and drank. Disgusted, Bluebele wondered what it contained, but she was too dejected to really care. A group of his companions congratulated him. One hurled a drunken insult at Bluebele.</P> <P>Bluebele hurried away. She should have known it wasn't going to be an honourable duel. She had been so naive. She should have laid a Thorny Trap to catch his feet as he approached. She should have stealthed herself; she would have been able to see him then. But mostly, she should never have accepted the duel.</P> <P>Now, as she stood at the mirror in her home in Lucie Street, wiping the blood from her cheek, she found herself questioning her decision to become a ranger. She had always been more agile than strong, so it had seemed a good choice, but might she have been better off as a Swashbuckler or even a Monk? Her training had mostly centred around the use of a bow. She had never been taught to defend herself adequately.</P> <P>The cut to her cheek was smaller and shallower than she had feared. That cheered her a little. Perhaps there would be no scar. She had always prided herself on her good looks. She smiled at herself. An attractive, blond-haired, young half elf smiled back. Her hair partially obscurred her right eye. She brushed it to one side. Pretty but not sexy she thought to herself. And too shy. She had never been confident or comfortable around men. Though she was in the prime of her life, she had never embraced a lover in her arms. I'll be left on the shelf she thought. Soon I'll be too old and fat and ugly, and no one will want me.</P> <P>She felt a cold wet tongue on her right hand. Springer balanced on his hind legs looking up at her. "Yes, I know I've got you", Bluebele sighed, "at least you're one good thing to have happened."</P> <P>Springer had put on a surprising amount of weight in the ten days she had had him. The poor creature really must have been half starved. At first Bluebele had not known what to feed him on. She'd gone to the pet shop a few streets away. There a rather obese, but jolly man, had recommended raw meat. "It's what they eat in the wilds, Ma'am. That and bones to suck and grind, nice and big, nothing he could choke on." He'd given her some cuts of meat and suggested she get acquainted with a local butcher. Since then, the crunch of teeth against bone had become an accustomed part of her home.</P> <P>Bluebele picked up the corner of the old bearskin rug that Springer had claimed as his own. She pulled it to the stairs. Springer cocked his head sideways, in a quizzical expression. "I'm not having you scratch and whine at my door again tonight. I really need my sleep." She pulled the bearskin up the stairs and to one corner of her bedroom. "You can sleep there tonight, but only if you're good."</P> <P>Springer seemed pleased at the change. He pranced excitedly to the rug. "Now, you stay there tonight", Bluebele sternly warned him. She half heartedly washed her face in the cold water from the bowl on her dresser. Then she undressed and climbed into her own bed. Springer took a few moments to settle himself into a comfortable spot. Finally he lay down to sleep.</P> <P>As she waited for sleep herself, Bluebele found herself listening to Springer's steady breathing. Too much had happened that day. Too much insight into her own shortcomings. She could not forget the humiliation of her lost duel or her general loneliness of her life. Unbidden, her tears began to flow. She covered her eyes with her hands, rolled onto her stomach, and sobbed into her pillow.</P> <P>How long she lay crying she could not tell, but she ceased and gave a startled jump when a cold nose pressed into her ear. She twisted her head to see Springer up on her bed excitedly dancing above her. At the sight of her unprotected face, Springer darted forward and began to lick her eyes and nose. He tried to reach her lips, but Bluebele was quicker. She covered her mouth and turned her face back into the pillow. Springer jumped over her shoulders, to attack from the other side, and burrowed his snout in the crack below her chin. She tried to fend him off, but whenever she hid her face he licked at her ears, and whenever she covered her ears, he found some way to her face.</P> <P>After several minutes, Bluebele managed to surface, pushing his nose away. "Enough!" she laughed, "Enough! I give up!". Springer sat himself down beside her pillow, panting gently, and regarded her playfully. Bluebele gave him a hug, then scratched behind his ears.</P> <P>"Ok", she conceded. "You can sleep on the bottom of my bed." She indicated the place with her hands. Springer seemed to understand and loped to the foot of her bed. He curled up on top of the blankets with his body against her feet.</P> <P>Bluebele lay herself down. Her thoughts were still now, and she found herself strangely relaxed. Sleep found her quickly. When she awoke next morning, Springer lay beside her, with his head on her pillow, and she had her arm wrapped around him.</P></FONT></DIV><p>Message Edited by markkeen on <span class=date_text>09-21-2006</span> <span class=time_text>07:28 AM</span>

[markkeen]

<FONT size=2> <P>Tanya lithely crawled from Gartug's bed. She watched the sleeping ogre as she donned her clothes. Gartug had changed considerably since their first inauspicious meeting. He had mellowed and seemed less prone to aggression. He wore his hair long, in a relaxed tail, instead of tight angry spikes. But most surprisingly, he had <I>shrunk</I>. Tanya was at a loss to explain it. When they had first met, Gartug had been the tallest ogre she had ever seen, now he was little more than average. Gartug had always needed to duck as he lumbered through the Big Bend passageway that led to the docks, but now he walked upright, without hitting his head.</P> <P>Secretly Tanya feared his change in height resulted from being turned into a toad too many times. From Tanya's point of view, turning Gartug into a toad was the ideal end to any argument. It ensured she always got the last word, pre-empted any violence on his part, and allowed him ample time to cool off; literally at the Big Bend docks. Gartug as toad, was invariably drawn to water in a way that his ogre self was not. As an added bonus, he always came back smelling fresher.</P> <P>Gartug still lived in the same single room at the same address. The décor had changed little, but the room was much tidier and cleaner now. Since teaming together, they had done rather well for themselves. Their cons had grown ever more sophisticated and profitable. To avoid suspicion it was agreed that Gartug would moderate his spending, while the bulk of their earnings went to furnish Tanya's lavish lifestyle.</P> <P>Tanya whispered a goodbye over the ogre's sleeping form. He would still be snoring at noon. Swaddled in bed sheets, only the green muscular hulk of his head showed on the pillow. His lower lip trembled in time with his snoring, and showed his lower fangs. "Poor fool loves me", Tanya thought as she closed his apartment door and entered the street. But then in her own way, she realised, she loved him too.</P> <P>Of course, that did not stop her having other lovers. Her body was hers to do with as she liked. Men found her irresistible. Well, most did. Eversong was an exception. She didn't know what was wrong with the elf; High Elf or low elf, it was all the same to her, they were all creatures of flesh and blood.</P> <P>Tanya knew that somehow Bluebele was behind Eversong's reticence. Perhaps Eversong still upheld himself to poetic ideals of romance? Perhaps he saw his love as a slowly budding flower? Elves lived a lot longer than humans, maybe he would devote an age to their courtship?</P> <P>She would have to act, Tanya realised, and sooner rather than later. She turned her path to the northern district of Freeport, and turned her thoughts to what could be done to claim Eversong's flesh as her own. She would have to be subtle. Bluebele having a fatal accident would be too extreme. Perhaps she could have her framed, arrested and publicly disgraced? She didn't want to bring about anything irreversible. The last thing she needed was a doting, emotionally dependent, high elf tying her down. Just a quick fling would be enough, then Bluebele could claim what was left.</P> <P>North Freeport boasted a wide array of shops that sold everything from general clothing to all types of armour and shields. There was also an inn, a tavern, and even an art studio. Tanya headed directly to "Torlig's Herbs and Potions". She was a well-known, high spending, customer. The potions didn't interest her, they were amateurish at best, but the herbs were another matter. Somehow the store kept a ready supply of fresh leaves and extracts; everything from Aarons Rod, to Zi Si Zi. Today she simply needed some Devil's Claw, Pewterwort, and Belladonna, otherwise known as Deadly Nightshade.</P> <P>She was quickly served. The shop assistant muttered something about the weather. Tanya nodded, but she hadn't really heard him; she was too distracted, determined to find a solution to her problem...</P></FONT>

[markkeen]

<P><EM>Hey I made it to the Treasure Chest!</EM></P> <P><EM>I hope recent episodes have not gone off at too much of an unexpected tangent. I do have some direction in mind, but it will take a little while to get there...</EM></P> <P><EM>For me this forum is really a chance to experiment with style and try to hone my writing skills. Meanwhile I hopefully produce fiction that people enjoy reading. That is the ultimate aim!</EM></P> <P><EM>Being a piece of fan fiction there are limits to where it can go, but I'll continue for as long as its fun. The story is based around my in-game characters on the EU Runnyeye server, and sometimes I describe events that actually happened in game. The duel was one such event that really happened, and my 53 ranger was beaten hands down by a 49 brigand. It did make me question whether I (Bluebele) was the wrong class... Bluebele just took it one step further into depression <img src="/smilies/3b63d1616c5dfcf29f8a7a031aaa7cad.gif" border="0" alt="SMILEY" /></EM></P> <P><EM>I always appreciate feedback, good and bad. Silence is the worse! I will try enter into some dialogue with people too. I'm new to this though, and trying to also let the fiction speak for itself.</EM></P> <P><EM>Regards</EM></P> <P><EM>Mark</EM></P> <P> </P>

[dano]

<DIV>Great stroy so far, I amreally enjoying it :smileyhappy: I too am on the runnyeye server. Each server has its own mentality so I can totally realte to this. Well done and keep writing, you have my attention :smileywink:</DIV>

[dano]

:smileyhappy:Oh and congratulations on making the treasure chest. A well deserved award

[MysidiaDrakkenbane]

<DIV>I knew you'd make it to the treasure chest. You have a great story going. And don't worry about direction. I think you're going at a fine pace (so sayeth the girl that keeps introducing new characters).</DIV> <DIV> </DIV> <DIV>I can't wait to see how this unfolds.</DIV>

[markkeen]

<FONT size=2> <P><EM>I very much appreciate the comments above, a new character (my RL wife's char) introduced today...</EM></P> <P>Bluebele hung far out over the edge of the falls. The white water cascaded past her to disappear from sight. The curvature of the drop made it impossible to see how far it fell, but Bluebele was certain it was a long way down. "You can see why they call it Long Drop Falls!", she excitedly called to her friend.</P> <P>Atimia, the ogre, crouched, mid-stream, on a rock near the drop. She was drenched with spray. Water from her golden hair ran in streamlets down her high forehead. She wiped her eyes and gave Bluebele a horrified look. "Be careful what you are doing!"</P> <P>Bluebele chuckled and scrambled up the rocks and back onto the bank. She turned and watched Atimia cautiously make her way across the river. Atimia had a Bruiser's lightning reflexes, but on the rocks, she did not seem very confident. Bluebele was not certain exactly what happened next; somehow her friend lost her footing, and slipped into the water. In an instant the fast flowing river bore her away and over the edge. Regardless of her own safety, Bluebele dived down after her.</P> <P>The river arced out over the precipice, then dropped vertically down. Bluebele found herself free falling. Instinctively she opened her arms and legs to create as much drag as possible. She could see Atimia far below, hurtling head over heels, in a dangerously uncontrolled fashion. Further below, a lush green landscape came into view. At its centre lay a pool of blue.</P> <P>As they both fell, Bluebele could see Atimia drifting away to one side. She yelled down to her to keep close to the cascading water, but it was no use. The roar of the water was terrific, and there was no chance her voice would be heard. Bluebele prayed Atimia would land in the pool, and not on the bank.</P> <P>Bluebele was a master of Safe Fall. She had taken time to learn how to steer her movement during a fall; how to land, roll, and even how to slow her decent. Her sessions of practice in the South Qeynos mage tower were paying dividends. She could jump cleanly from the yellow portal platform to the ledge above the entrance, then from there jump to the floor. Falling in the tower was easier; someone skilled in Safe Fall could slow themselves down by use of the walls. Here there was only the falling water to try and brake against.</P> <P>As the ground loomed ever closer, Bluebele could see a new danger; the pool below them was dotted with rocks. There were large spaces of open water between the rocks, but apart from the danger of hitting one, they made Bluebele worry about the depth of the water.</P> <P>All too soon Atimia plunged into the pool with an enormous splash. Bluebele stretched out her arms and legs, and twisting heads downwards, aimed herself to dive not twenty feet from her friend. The instant of the impact knocked the breath from her lungs. Bluebele knew a moment of disorientation as she tried to follow the bubbles up. Then suddenly she broke the surface with a gasp.</P> <P>Heedless of her own hurts, Bluebele swam to where Atimia had landed. Atimia was still under the water, but Bluebele managed to grab her collar and pull her head up for air. Carefully she paddled her friend to the bank and onto dry land. Atimia was pale and lifeless...</P></FONT>

[dano]

I am loving this. Great work and good descriptions and details. Well done :smileyhappy:

[markkeen]

<DIV><FONT size=2> <P>The Hidden Refuge was a small settlement bordered by mountainous rock close to the bottom of Long Drop Falls. It was little more than a series of campsites huddled together for protection. Bluebele had managed to raise the alarm, and now her friend Atimia lay under a tarp attended by Vigilant Froglok Paladins. Atimia had taken a glancing knock to the side of her head as she plunged into the pool at the foot of the falls. Surgeon Kweezil, the camps chief medical officer, had stitched the wound personally.  Atimia had regained consciousness, but was still very disorientated. </P> <P>Bluebele stood, slightly apart from the healers. She chewed at her lower lip and stared out to the horizon. Night was falling, and soon it would be fully dark. From time to time she took worried glances at the Froglok Paladins as they conferred. She did not fully understand the language, but listened mostly to the tone of their voices. Comfortingly, there was no sound of alarm to their croaks.</P> <P>A hand fell upon her shoulder, and she turned to meet the gaze of a human female ranger. Dancer was the head of the Qeynos contingent in the camp. 'Your friend will recover', Dancer assured her. 'She is bruised, and badly shaken, but she has been lucky not to have sustained greater injuries.'</P> <P>Bluebele looked down. 'I know you are right', she said, 'but still...'</P> <P>'But nothing', Dancer insisted. 'You must be hungry. Come, join us for food. The Tangle provides. We have plenty.'</P> <P>Reluctantly Bluebele allowed herself to be led away. Seated on the ground, around their blazing campfire, were three other members of Dancer's company. Murrar Shar, a Kerran, with tiger stripes, motioned for her to sit, then handed her a skewered strip of cooked meat. 'A local type of flying squirrel', he informed her. 'Dancer enjoys the challenge of shooting them midflight between trees.'</P> <P>Dancer laughed as she seated herself. 'You're new here?' she asked Bluebele. Bluebele nodded as she licked the grease from her fingers. She.was greatly enjoying the juicy rodent. 'Then let us tell you about some of the local flora and fauna.' Dancer suggested.</P> <P>'And the local history too', Murrar Shar cut in.</P> <P>'I would very much like to hear it ', Bluebele agreed, 'but I ought to check on Atimia.' She began to stand.</P> <P>'Please sit,' Dancer protested soothingly. 'Your friend is in good hands, and she will need her rest.'</P> <P>'Here, have some more food,' Murrar Shar said, invitingly handing her another skewer of meat.</P> <P>And so Bluebele heard of the Tenebrous Tangle; the best places to fish, which species of Swoop Serpent were edible. She listened to tales of the Gazers, of Bixie Isle, of Cloud Stations, and the treacherous Scaleborn. Time and time again, the tales would turn to that evil species, their temples and their Sanctum. Eventually the fire grew dim.</P> <P>They found Bluebele a place to sleep, but before retiring she went to look on her friend. Atimia was sound asleep, and snoring quietly. Only one Froglok Paladin watched over her. He sat cross-legged, and nodded when he saw Bluebele. He gave a broad grin that seemed to indicate that Atimia was doing well.</P></FONT></DIV><p>Message Edited by markkeen on <span class=date_text>09-29-2006</span> <span class=time_text>02:42 AM</span>

[markkeen]

<DIV><FONT size=2> <P>'I really thought I'd lost you', Bluebele confessed to the ogre. 'I don't know what I'd have done.'</P> <P>Atimia put her left arm around Bluebele and gave her a squeeze. They were walking together on a slow circuit of the froglok camp. Atimia wore a white bandage around the rim of her scalp that made her look as though she were wearing a hat. 'You'd get by', she said, 'it's a dangerous life we lead.'</P> <P>Bluebele halted her friend. Tiny droplets of tears blurred her vision as she made eye contact. 'I'd rather not have to only "get by"', she exclaimed. 'You're the best friend I've ever had, we've been through so much together. I don't think anyone else really cares about me the way you do.' Atimia gave Bluebele a small smile. For a while, they continued their tour in companionable silence, each deep in their own thoughts.</P> <P>'We've grown up together, and been through so much.' Atimia remarked.</P> <P>Bluebele chuckled to herself. 'Remember the time you fell off that hill on the way to Windstalker village? Nearly broke your neck! You certainly have a bad time with heights!'</P> <P>Atimia nodded excitedly. 'I was thinking more about our adventures in the Ruins of Varsoon; I'll never forget Varsoon's face when we killed his succubus. Boy, was he angry!'</P> <P>'He got much angrier', Bluebele pointed out, 'when we started laying into him!' They both laughed out loud at that.</P> <P>'I enjoyed exploring deep into Solusek's Eye.' Atimia mused.</P> <P>'We've still got unfinished business down there', Bluebele agreed. 'That's one story that doesn't yet have an ending.' Suddenly Bluebele's expression became serious. 'Atimia have you seen or heard from Eversong lately?'</P> <P>Atimia shook her head. 'I hardly ever see him, but that's not unusual. I thought you two were close.'</P> <P>'Me too', Bluebele pondered. 'I haven't heard from him in three weeks. He usually arranges my supplies of poison, and makes my Spell Scrolls, but I've had nothing. I've had to ask a Broker to help out...'</P> <P>To one side and ahead of them was a froglok rummaging through crates. When he saw them approach, he hailed them. 'It's good to see you up and about', he called to Atimia in Common. 'I'm sorry to trouble you so soon, but my war chests are empty. Would you help me fill them with weapons taken from the Scaleborn?'</P> <P>Bluebele smiled to herself. It sounded like another quest. Wherever they travelled, from the highest mountain peak, to the deepest dungeon, they would always find someone who needed their help. It was a law of nature, and the only true certainty of being an adventurer.</P></FONT></DIV>