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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: 2404890" data-attributes="member: 4550"><p><span style="color: deepskyblue"><strong>Chapter One, Part Ten</strong></span></p><p></p><p>Abrina walked aimlessly down Lava Avenue in the opposite direction of the church, dodging the merchants leading their wagons up the slanted streets and children running across the sometimes gravelly ground of volcanic rock in every direction. She did not want to return to the church empty-handed, and she still had no more idea about the identity or whereabouts of this Last Laugh, despite the extra puzzle piece Patch had provided. She fingered her symbol of Ninurta as she glanced upward at the cramped buildings lining the road, some seemed to be hewn directly from the volcano’s core. Veins of malachite were every, bringing a small bit of color to an otherwise gray and dreary city.</p><p></p><p>As she turned down an alley a motion from the shadows caught her eye, a pale, fleeting figure in her peripheral vision that disappeared despite her keen sight. Her eyes narrowed and Abrina tightened her cloak around her body. The wind had picked up in the afternoon, and the overcast clouds had begun to take on a darker tone. With a shrug, she continued but remained alert. Abrina was determined that those from the Last Laugh not catch her unawares again.</p><p></p><p>Abrina raised her head at the sound of a wooden sign creaking in the wind, swinging back and forth on rusty hinges. She paused in her walk and stepped back, examining the two-story black stone building that loomed in front of her. <span style="color: white">A small turret dominated the façade, with iron bars embedded in the thick window frames. Beyond the turret’s ground-floor windows, Abrina could see a lovely display of locks, from large to small, simple to complex, plain to intricate. To the left of the turret, above a heavy oak door, swung the sign, and upon the wooden sign, below a picture of a stylized key, read G<span style="font-size: 10px"><strong>HELVE</strong></span>’<span style="font-size: 10px"><strong>S</strong></span> L<span style="font-size: 10px"><strong>OCKS</strong></span>.</span></p><p></p><p><em>The locks are key to finding them</em>, she repeated to herself. <em>Perhaps he might have some clue as to how someone might have gotten past his locks.</em></p><p></p><p>Abrina knocked on the sturdy wooden door of the town locksmith.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="hbarsquared, post: 2404890, member: 4550"] [color=deepskyblue][b]Chapter One, Part Ten[/b][/color] Abrina walked aimlessly down Lava Avenue in the opposite direction of the church, dodging the merchants leading their wagons up the slanted streets and children running across the sometimes gravelly ground of volcanic rock in every direction. She did not want to return to the church empty-handed, and she still had no more idea about the identity or whereabouts of this Last Laugh, despite the extra puzzle piece Patch had provided. She fingered her symbol of Ninurta as she glanced upward at the cramped buildings lining the road, some seemed to be hewn directly from the volcano’s core. Veins of malachite were every, bringing a small bit of color to an otherwise gray and dreary city. As she turned down an alley a motion from the shadows caught her eye, a pale, fleeting figure in her peripheral vision that disappeared despite her keen sight. Her eyes narrowed and Abrina tightened her cloak around her body. The wind had picked up in the afternoon, and the overcast clouds had begun to take on a darker tone. With a shrug, she continued but remained alert. Abrina was determined that those from the Last Laugh not catch her unawares again. Abrina raised her head at the sound of a wooden sign creaking in the wind, swinging back and forth on rusty hinges. She paused in her walk and stepped back, examining the two-story black stone building that loomed in front of her. [color=white]A small turret dominated the façade, with iron bars embedded in the thick window frames. Beyond the turret’s ground-floor windows, Abrina could see a lovely display of locks, from large to small, simple to complex, plain to intricate. To the left of the turret, above a heavy oak door, swung the sign, and upon the wooden sign, below a picture of a stylized key, read G[size=2][b]HELVE[/b][/size][b][/b]’[size=2][b]S[/b][/size] L[size=2][b]OCKS[/b][/size].[/color] [i]The locks are key to finding them[/i], she repeated to herself. [i]Perhaps he might have some clue as to how someone might have gotten past his locks.[/i] Abrina knocked on the sturdy wooden door of the town locksmith. [/QUOTE]
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