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A Lonely Path: a Shackled City Story Hour (the old version, see last post)
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<blockquote data-quote="hbarsquared" data-source="post: 2318021" data-attributes="member: 4550"><p><span style="color: deepskyblue"><strong>Chapter One, Part Eight</strong></span></p><p></p><p></p><p><span style="color: white">The orphanage rested on the corner of Lantern Street and Ash Avenue, its charcoal-colored stones held together with mold-encrusted mortar. The windows on both stories were tightly shuttered, the bleached and splintering wood seemed to droop forlornly in the morning light. Unlit lanterns hung on either side of the oaken front door, mounted to which was a green copper knocker shaped like a smiling gargoyle’s visage, its nostrils pierced by a copper ring.</span> Abrina paused and breathed deeply before grasping the ring and knocked on the door of the Lantern Street Orphanage.</p><p></p><p>The door slowly creaked opened after a few moments and an elderly halfling woman peered out, her eyes flickering with suspicion.</p><p></p><p>“Who sent you?” she asked curtly, refusing to open the door further than the scant inches it was already.</p><p></p><p>“Me?” Abrina responded, taken aback. She had not expected distrust. “My name’s Abrina, and I was sent by Jenya, from the Church of Enlil. I was hoping-”</p><p></p><p>“Jenya?” interrupted the halfling with a raspy voice. “I don’t know any Jenya.”</p><p></p><p>“Urikas,” Abrina answered patiently, hoping perhaps that name sounded familiar. “She is the head cleric at the church while Delasharn is away. She was the one to give the proclamation to bring the kidnappers to justice.”</p><p></p><p>The halfling's eyes softened and she opened the door further. “Oh, yes” she said, motioning Abrina into the orphanage. “She has sent you, has she? You don’t look familiar. What was your name again?”</p><p></p><p>“Abrina” she replied, stepping into the dimly lit main hall. “I am actually only a visitor, here. A cleric of Ninurta. She requested my help to find the . . . children.”</p><p></p><p>The woman nodded, closing the door and showing Abrina in. “I apologize for my attitude. There have been plenty of other strangers in this place, and still no word of the children. It’s been frustrating, to say the least. My name is Gretchyn, the headmistress here.”</p><p></p><p>Gretchyn lead the way through the hall, leading Abrina past a playroom filled with small toys chaotically strewn across the floor and a schoolroom where a young woman walked among several rowdy children.</p><p></p><p>“That’s Willow, our schoolteacher here,” said Gretchyn, opening a door to a small room with a small desk in the corner and shelves bulging with aging books and sheaves of paper. “She volunteers, mostly, bless her heart. Without her, I don’t know what Neva and I would do to occupy them.”</p><p></p><p>“Neva?” Abrina questioned, her eye lingering on the lock of Gretchyn’s door.</p><p></p><p>“She’s the nurse. Neva helps me watch the children, fixes up their scraps and bruises.”</p><p></p><p>Abrina returned her gaze to Gretchyn. “Who else stays here?”</p><p></p><p>“Well, we have Jaromir Copperbeard, our gardener,” Gretchyn said, ticking the name off on one finger. “He keeps to himself, mostly. Neva Fanister, Willow Atherfell. Patch, good old Patch, keeps the place clean. And Temar Flagonstern is our most excellent cook, and he gets along quite well with the children, too.”</p><p></p><p>Gretchyn winked. “I believe he sneaks them cookies when I’m not looking. And I think he thinks I don’t know.”</p><p></p><p>Abrina nodded, smiling politely. Gretchyn had already lost her with who knew what in the kitchen. But none of the people she described sounded especially like kidnappers. “Does anyone have the keys to the children’s rooms, besides you?”</p><p></p><p>Gretchyn shook her head. “Nope. Just me, and I make sure to lock up every night, both the outer doors and the children’s door. Nothing gets in, and the children don’t manage to get into trouble.”</p><p></p><p>“Then how. . .” Abrina began, pondering aloud. <em>The locks are key to finding them</em>, she repeated to herself. The locks.</p><p></p><p>“Have your locks been damaged in any way, recently? Are you sure no one else has access?”</p><p></p><p>“Of course I’m sure,” Gretchyn snorted. “They’re perfect, you can check them out yourself. And the locks have worked fine since the day I got them from that gnome locksmith ten years ago.”</p><p></p><p>“And he wouldn’t have a copy of the key, would he?”</p><p></p><p>“I guess he could,” she replied thoughtfully. “But I don’t see why. He’s been in business a while, and no one has ever complained about him or reported him. Besides, it’s been years. Why would he kidnap children now?”</p><p></p><p>Abrina nodded. “You’re right, it wouldn’t make much sense. Would it be okay if I spoke with some of your staff, and maybe the children?”</p><p></p><p>Gretchyn rose. “Sure, you can, just don’t go upsetting anybody. Half of those children have already forgotten about the whole thing, but if you mention they might start bawling.”</p><p></p><p>Abrina followed Gretchyn out of the office, her thoughts in turmoil. Maybe one of the staff might provide some insight. Over and over she repeated the divination’s riddle, hoping that its meaning would click in her mind, like a key in its lock.</p><p></p><p><em>The locks are key to finding them</em>.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="hbarsquared, post: 2318021, member: 4550"] [color=deepskyblue][b]Chapter One, Part Eight[/b][/color] [color=white]The orphanage rested on the corner of Lantern Street and Ash Avenue, its charcoal-colored stones held together with mold-encrusted mortar. The windows on both stories were tightly shuttered, the bleached and splintering wood seemed to droop forlornly in the morning light. Unlit lanterns hung on either side of the oaken front door, mounted to which was a green copper knocker shaped like a smiling gargoyle’s visage, its nostrils pierced by a copper ring.[/color] Abrina paused and breathed deeply before grasping the ring and knocked on the door of the Lantern Street Orphanage. The door slowly creaked opened after a few moments and an elderly halfling woman peered out, her eyes flickering with suspicion. “Who sent you?” she asked curtly, refusing to open the door further than the scant inches it was already. “Me?” Abrina responded, taken aback. She had not expected distrust. “My name’s Abrina, and I was sent by Jenya, from the Church of Enlil. I was hoping-” “Jenya?” interrupted the halfling with a raspy voice. “I don’t know any Jenya.” “Urikas,” Abrina answered patiently, hoping perhaps that name sounded familiar. “She is the head cleric at the church while Delasharn is away. She was the one to give the proclamation to bring the kidnappers to justice.” The halfling's eyes softened and she opened the door further. “Oh, yes” she said, motioning Abrina into the orphanage. “She has sent you, has she? You don’t look familiar. What was your name again?” “Abrina” she replied, stepping into the dimly lit main hall. “I am actually only a visitor, here. A cleric of Ninurta. She requested my help to find the . . . children.” The woman nodded, closing the door and showing Abrina in. “I apologize for my attitude. There have been plenty of other strangers in this place, and still no word of the children. It’s been frustrating, to say the least. My name is Gretchyn, the headmistress here.” Gretchyn lead the way through the hall, leading Abrina past a playroom filled with small toys chaotically strewn across the floor and a schoolroom where a young woman walked among several rowdy children. “That’s Willow, our schoolteacher here,” said Gretchyn, opening a door to a small room with a small desk in the corner and shelves bulging with aging books and sheaves of paper. “She volunteers, mostly, bless her heart. Without her, I don’t know what Neva and I would do to occupy them.” “Neva?” Abrina questioned, her eye lingering on the lock of Gretchyn’s door. “She’s the nurse. Neva helps me watch the children, fixes up their scraps and bruises.” Abrina returned her gaze to Gretchyn. “Who else stays here?” “Well, we have Jaromir Copperbeard, our gardener,” Gretchyn said, ticking the name off on one finger. “He keeps to himself, mostly. Neva Fanister, Willow Atherfell. Patch, good old Patch, keeps the place clean. And Temar Flagonstern is our most excellent cook, and he gets along quite well with the children, too.” Gretchyn winked. “I believe he sneaks them cookies when I’m not looking. And I think he thinks I don’t know.” Abrina nodded, smiling politely. Gretchyn had already lost her with who knew what in the kitchen. But none of the people she described sounded especially like kidnappers. “Does anyone have the keys to the children’s rooms, besides you?” Gretchyn shook her head. “Nope. Just me, and I make sure to lock up every night, both the outer doors and the children’s door. Nothing gets in, and the children don’t manage to get into trouble.” “Then how. . .” Abrina began, pondering aloud. [i]The locks are key to finding them[/i], she repeated to herself. The locks. “Have your locks been damaged in any way, recently? Are you sure no one else has access?” “Of course I’m sure,” Gretchyn snorted. “They’re perfect, you can check them out yourself. And the locks have worked fine since the day I got them from that gnome locksmith ten years ago.” “And he wouldn’t have a copy of the key, would he?” “I guess he could,” she replied thoughtfully. “But I don’t see why. He’s been in business a while, and no one has ever complained about him or reported him. Besides, it’s been years. Why would he kidnap children now?” Abrina nodded. “You’re right, it wouldn’t make much sense. Would it be okay if I spoke with some of your staff, and maybe the children?” Gretchyn rose. “Sure, you can, just don’t go upsetting anybody. Half of those children have already forgotten about the whole thing, but if you mention they might start bawling.” Abrina followed Gretchyn out of the office, her thoughts in turmoil. Maybe one of the staff might provide some insight. Over and over she repeated the divination’s riddle, hoping that its meaning would click in her mind, like a key in its lock. [i]The locks are key to finding them[/i]. [/QUOTE]
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