Post by firesblade on Oct 20, 2009 13:11:15 GMT -5
He hated the rain though that was not strictly true. He just hated the rain this day. Stuck in an inn with nothing to do and the relentless pounding on the window reminding him every second of how bored he was.
Perched cross legged on the bed of the clean, if simple, room, twirling the arrow in long, nimble fingers, he stared at the wooden door. Noise from the common room drifted up on occasion and for one insane moment he considered going down. It was full of half drunk humans and mostly drunk dwarves though and while he did consider they needed to be unburdened from their purse strings, he dismissed the idea almost as soon as it formed. Boring.
He could contemplate on his life to date, as the one female he had ever cared about suggested before she left him for another, but what was the good of that? He might actually decide his life was a waste and then he’d have to do something about it. Truthfully, he enjoyed himself most of the time. It was just this rain, that was the problem. Too hard, too persistent and too wet making it too easy to fall off roofs which would not be good for his health. So he sat and he twirled and he stared.
And then he was at the at the door, kneeling with the arrow sticking in the rather large opening of the lock. It had to be large to fit the massive iron key which in itself was ridiculous. He tried to feel the pressure plates, hear the tumblers as he worked the arrow. But arrows were not made for lock picking and the ignorant thing broke off.
Now was he not only bored, he was trapped. But he was resourceful and thoughtful. Slowly easing back to his feet, he crossed his arms and studied the door. Well, he was no woodsman but he did have an axe for when he found himself amongst the green of the forest. There was nothing for it
It didn’t take long before the offending door was splintered open and even less time before a much outraged innkeeper was towering over his agile form wearing all manner of shades of purple and red as his voice bellowed down the hall demanding to know what had happened. It would have been easy to slip past the hulking innkeeper and out of the establishment, but it was still raining.
Instead, he straightened his shoulders, lifted his chin and gave the brutish innkeeper his most condescending look, as he casually swung from his slender fingers a rather full and heavy looking coin purse.
“I hope you plan to compensate me for my loss, good sir.”
“YOUR loss! By Cyric’s hairy backside! YOU’RE the one what damaged MY door.”
“And what else was I to do? I was most restfully asleep when I heard some horrendous noise just outside my door. It wasn’t until I approached my door… fearful for my very life, mind you… that I noticed the arrow in the lock. Well, what else could I have done? I tried banging on the door but it was to no avail. And so now, if you can assure me the new room you will find for me is safe and the lock working perfectly fine, I shall forget about the compensation you owe me for the loss of my sleep, the dulling of a fine ax and the pounding headache I now have.”
The poor innkeeper was so confused and so befuddled by the quick sliver tongue and heavy purse dangling before him that the poor man immediately apologized and found his guest a new and larger room – completely on the house, of course.
As he settled on the bed he chuckled. Elves do not sleep and coin purses do not necessarily hold coin.
_______
Kalee shook her head grinning laying her charcoal down and stretching her neck a bit. It needed work, of course, but the first writings always did. She did wonder if Telk would approve. Kalee would show it to him, just to be sure. Her gaze swept over the yard in front of the Regal Griffon Inn, quiet now for which she was grateful, then returned to the parchment resting on the table. Barely 21 summers had passed since she was first introduced into the world.
She couldn’t remember much about her mother. Gentle eyes, indulgent smile and soft embrace full of love and warmth and security. It was the stories though, she remembered most. Snuggled in her mother’s lap, twisting the soft curls of dark hair around her tiny finger as the words flowed over, around and through her. Tales of brave knights, clever wizards, compassionate clerics, tricky thieves and all of them females. They had stirred her imagination but they had also frightened her. The world was full of such danger and so many unknowns. But her mother would hug her and say there was little to worry about. She was safe. And always, her father, resting in the opposite chair after a hard day trading, would simply smile and nod.
And then her brother arrived and she never saw her mother’s gentle eyes again. The woman their father hired was kind enough, taught them to read and write, kept them clean and fed, but there were no more stories. So Kalee had started telling her own as she worked at her chores. Her brother learned to walk and run, not necessarily in that order, and to talk where one could actually understand him. The stories changed to keep him entertained and out from under foot..
When her brother reached ten summers, he went to live with another family, wealthier, who would teach him everything a young man should know. The lady was dismissed and Kalee was alone again. So she started writing down her stories, saving them for the rare occasions her brother would come home for a visit. She also spent more time at her father’s store helping him with inventory and listening to the tales of the adventurers that came in. Though he would offer her a smile or a kind word, Kalee often wondered if her father had really seen her anymore. She wondered if anyone did.
Kalee giggled, shaking her head, and rested her cheek on her palm absently staring at the parchment. She hadn’t thought she felt sorry for herself, but perhaps she had. Her stories had grown sadder and her characters often became invisible in one way or another. They weren’t very good stories really. But they had become her world.
And then her father suddenly sold the house, bought a wagon, packed up his daughter and his store and became a traveling merchant. He never said why, and she never bothered to ask.
In truth, she had been excited at first. She would finally get to see the world, have adventures like she believed her brother was having. But she soon learned that it was difficult to have adventures from the back of a wagon while traveling in a well guarded caravan along heavily patrolled roads. And though they never again settled in any one city, most of their time was spent along the same routes and she still remained largely invisible.
Her brother found them now and again. He had grown taller than she, with broad shoulders and laughing blue eyes. He was so much like one of the knights of her stories with his large sword and shining armor despite his youth. He told her stories of his training and his adventures, but mostly he told her of Cassandra, the (according to him) beautiful daughter of his guardian and master. Kalee was happy for him, if just a little envious. With each visit she realized just how timid and young she was and how brave and strong her dear brother was despite the fact that she was the eldest.
Kalee smiled sadly, carefully rolling up the parchment. The last time she saw her brother, he had been leaving to fight orcs, for his Cassandra. She hadn’t really understood what he meant by that, but it sounded romantic and she wished him victory.
“You need to find your own life, Kay. Get out in the world, seek your own fortune, your own excitement.”
She had laughed, “I am no fighter like you. I would be too afraid. Besides I don’t even know how to use a sword.”
“Then here, take mine. I have a finer one now. Find someone to teach you how to use it. You’re a strong lass from carting all those crates and boxes around.”
She had replied amused, "Thank you, I think. I prefer to find my adventure in my writings, however. And maybe one day I will see my stories published.” She had taken the sword though simply because it was a part of her much loved brother.
Her eyes grew distant as she remembered the very last thing he had said to her.
“You are too pretty to be shut up in the back of a wagon. And you’re much braver than you think you are. The next time I see you, I will teach you myself if you haven’t learned and you shall meet Jake.”
Kalee had never seen him again, nor had she learned who Jake was. She had received a few letters from him though they always seemed to take awhile to find her. But the letters had stopped within a short time. Their father decided to seek out the noble family that had taken him in whom he had learned had moved somewhere in Cormyr. He took up with a caravan heading in that direction. The caravan had been attacked just beyond it’s borders, her father falling to the point of a well-aimed arrow and Kalee had found herself in Isinhold, with very little except her stories.
She had buried her sadness in her writing until she had decided there was no point in being sad anymore. It just wasn’t in her nature. She wanted to change her life instead. But little changed.
Though she had enjoyed watching the groups of adventurers pass through the village, listening to their stories and trying to put them to parchment, she was still the same timid, invisible young woman she had always been. And she still did not understand how others got up their courage to enter dark places and fight creatures bigger and stronger than they were.
And then she had witnessed a confrontation in the common room of the Regal Griffin which had truly frightened her. Though she had heard many stories, she had never really seen swords drawn in anger or heard real threats before. But then he had entered in the inn, had knelt by her stool and looked up to her with gentle eyes and a calm, confident strength and reassured her. He would let no harm come to her.
The air grew chilly as adventurers began returning to greet each other, share an ale or two and sell the goods they had found. Kalee rose from her chair, smiling softly, gathering up her parchment and stretching. She needed to get some sleep and rest her sword arm. She too had just returned from her own, what others might consider, little adventure. She was getting stronger, but swinging a sword was still new to her and her muscles ached. It was a good ache, however.
As she pushed in her chair, the voice that could make her heart skip a beat fell quietly by her ear.
“Kalee? Have you been practicing?”
She turned smiling brightly to the handsome face, framed by blond hair, bringing a familiar soft blush to her cheeks though she doubted he looked on her as anymore than a friend.
“Oh I have! Just like you said I should. Shall I tell you about it?”
Her life was truly changing and she had no idea what was going to happen next. It was wonderful!
Perched cross legged on the bed of the clean, if simple, room, twirling the arrow in long, nimble fingers, he stared at the wooden door. Noise from the common room drifted up on occasion and for one insane moment he considered going down. It was full of half drunk humans and mostly drunk dwarves though and while he did consider they needed to be unburdened from their purse strings, he dismissed the idea almost as soon as it formed. Boring.
He could contemplate on his life to date, as the one female he had ever cared about suggested before she left him for another, but what was the good of that? He might actually decide his life was a waste and then he’d have to do something about it. Truthfully, he enjoyed himself most of the time. It was just this rain, that was the problem. Too hard, too persistent and too wet making it too easy to fall off roofs which would not be good for his health. So he sat and he twirled and he stared.
And then he was at the at the door, kneeling with the arrow sticking in the rather large opening of the lock. It had to be large to fit the massive iron key which in itself was ridiculous. He tried to feel the pressure plates, hear the tumblers as he worked the arrow. But arrows were not made for lock picking and the ignorant thing broke off.
Now was he not only bored, he was trapped. But he was resourceful and thoughtful. Slowly easing back to his feet, he crossed his arms and studied the door. Well, he was no woodsman but he did have an axe for when he found himself amongst the green of the forest. There was nothing for it
It didn’t take long before the offending door was splintered open and even less time before a much outraged innkeeper was towering over his agile form wearing all manner of shades of purple and red as his voice bellowed down the hall demanding to know what had happened. It would have been easy to slip past the hulking innkeeper and out of the establishment, but it was still raining.
Instead, he straightened his shoulders, lifted his chin and gave the brutish innkeeper his most condescending look, as he casually swung from his slender fingers a rather full and heavy looking coin purse.
“I hope you plan to compensate me for my loss, good sir.”
“YOUR loss! By Cyric’s hairy backside! YOU’RE the one what damaged MY door.”
“And what else was I to do? I was most restfully asleep when I heard some horrendous noise just outside my door. It wasn’t until I approached my door… fearful for my very life, mind you… that I noticed the arrow in the lock. Well, what else could I have done? I tried banging on the door but it was to no avail. And so now, if you can assure me the new room you will find for me is safe and the lock working perfectly fine, I shall forget about the compensation you owe me for the loss of my sleep, the dulling of a fine ax and the pounding headache I now have.”
The poor innkeeper was so confused and so befuddled by the quick sliver tongue and heavy purse dangling before him that the poor man immediately apologized and found his guest a new and larger room – completely on the house, of course.
As he settled on the bed he chuckled. Elves do not sleep and coin purses do not necessarily hold coin.
_______
Kalee shook her head grinning laying her charcoal down and stretching her neck a bit. It needed work, of course, but the first writings always did. She did wonder if Telk would approve. Kalee would show it to him, just to be sure. Her gaze swept over the yard in front of the Regal Griffon Inn, quiet now for which she was grateful, then returned to the parchment resting on the table. Barely 21 summers had passed since she was first introduced into the world.
She couldn’t remember much about her mother. Gentle eyes, indulgent smile and soft embrace full of love and warmth and security. It was the stories though, she remembered most. Snuggled in her mother’s lap, twisting the soft curls of dark hair around her tiny finger as the words flowed over, around and through her. Tales of brave knights, clever wizards, compassionate clerics, tricky thieves and all of them females. They had stirred her imagination but they had also frightened her. The world was full of such danger and so many unknowns. But her mother would hug her and say there was little to worry about. She was safe. And always, her father, resting in the opposite chair after a hard day trading, would simply smile and nod.
And then her brother arrived and she never saw her mother’s gentle eyes again. The woman their father hired was kind enough, taught them to read and write, kept them clean and fed, but there were no more stories. So Kalee had started telling her own as she worked at her chores. Her brother learned to walk and run, not necessarily in that order, and to talk where one could actually understand him. The stories changed to keep him entertained and out from under foot..
When her brother reached ten summers, he went to live with another family, wealthier, who would teach him everything a young man should know. The lady was dismissed and Kalee was alone again. So she started writing down her stories, saving them for the rare occasions her brother would come home for a visit. She also spent more time at her father’s store helping him with inventory and listening to the tales of the adventurers that came in. Though he would offer her a smile or a kind word, Kalee often wondered if her father had really seen her anymore. She wondered if anyone did.
Kalee giggled, shaking her head, and rested her cheek on her palm absently staring at the parchment. She hadn’t thought she felt sorry for herself, but perhaps she had. Her stories had grown sadder and her characters often became invisible in one way or another. They weren’t very good stories really. But they had become her world.
And then her father suddenly sold the house, bought a wagon, packed up his daughter and his store and became a traveling merchant. He never said why, and she never bothered to ask.
In truth, she had been excited at first. She would finally get to see the world, have adventures like she believed her brother was having. But she soon learned that it was difficult to have adventures from the back of a wagon while traveling in a well guarded caravan along heavily patrolled roads. And though they never again settled in any one city, most of their time was spent along the same routes and she still remained largely invisible.
Her brother found them now and again. He had grown taller than she, with broad shoulders and laughing blue eyes. He was so much like one of the knights of her stories with his large sword and shining armor despite his youth. He told her stories of his training and his adventures, but mostly he told her of Cassandra, the (according to him) beautiful daughter of his guardian and master. Kalee was happy for him, if just a little envious. With each visit she realized just how timid and young she was and how brave and strong her dear brother was despite the fact that she was the eldest.
Kalee smiled sadly, carefully rolling up the parchment. The last time she saw her brother, he had been leaving to fight orcs, for his Cassandra. She hadn’t really understood what he meant by that, but it sounded romantic and she wished him victory.
“You need to find your own life, Kay. Get out in the world, seek your own fortune, your own excitement.”
She had laughed, “I am no fighter like you. I would be too afraid. Besides I don’t even know how to use a sword.”
“Then here, take mine. I have a finer one now. Find someone to teach you how to use it. You’re a strong lass from carting all those crates and boxes around.”
She had replied amused, "Thank you, I think. I prefer to find my adventure in my writings, however. And maybe one day I will see my stories published.” She had taken the sword though simply because it was a part of her much loved brother.
Her eyes grew distant as she remembered the very last thing he had said to her.
“You are too pretty to be shut up in the back of a wagon. And you’re much braver than you think you are. The next time I see you, I will teach you myself if you haven’t learned and you shall meet Jake.”
Kalee had never seen him again, nor had she learned who Jake was. She had received a few letters from him though they always seemed to take awhile to find her. But the letters had stopped within a short time. Their father decided to seek out the noble family that had taken him in whom he had learned had moved somewhere in Cormyr. He took up with a caravan heading in that direction. The caravan had been attacked just beyond it’s borders, her father falling to the point of a well-aimed arrow and Kalee had found herself in Isinhold, with very little except her stories.
She had buried her sadness in her writing until she had decided there was no point in being sad anymore. It just wasn’t in her nature. She wanted to change her life instead. But little changed.
Though she had enjoyed watching the groups of adventurers pass through the village, listening to their stories and trying to put them to parchment, she was still the same timid, invisible young woman she had always been. And she still did not understand how others got up their courage to enter dark places and fight creatures bigger and stronger than they were.
And then she had witnessed a confrontation in the common room of the Regal Griffin which had truly frightened her. Though she had heard many stories, she had never really seen swords drawn in anger or heard real threats before. But then he had entered in the inn, had knelt by her stool and looked up to her with gentle eyes and a calm, confident strength and reassured her. He would let no harm come to her.
The air grew chilly as adventurers began returning to greet each other, share an ale or two and sell the goods they had found. Kalee rose from her chair, smiling softly, gathering up her parchment and stretching. She needed to get some sleep and rest her sword arm. She too had just returned from her own, what others might consider, little adventure. She was getting stronger, but swinging a sword was still new to her and her muscles ached. It was a good ache, however.
As she pushed in her chair, the voice that could make her heart skip a beat fell quietly by her ear.
“Kalee? Have you been practicing?”
She turned smiling brightly to the handsome face, framed by blond hair, bringing a familiar soft blush to her cheeks though she doubted he looked on her as anymore than a friend.
“Oh I have! Just like you said I should. Shall I tell you about it?”
Her life was truly changing and she had no idea what was going to happen next. It was wonderful!
