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A Lonely Path: a Shackled City Story Hour, (updated 30 Apr 2008)
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<blockquote data-quote="hbarsquared" data-source="post: 2986971" data-attributes="member: 4550"><p><strong>Prologue, Part Three</strong></p><p></p><p>Abrina packed lightly and left her town of Narim by the north gate, little more than a small and decorative arch of stone with not even a wall attached. No one stood guard except for one elderly woman tearing out weeds from her garden. Abrina sat high upon a muscled and energetic young colt, his reigns handed to her by Kevur after the time for tearful good-byes had come to a close. Eager for the journey, her mount nearly pranced through the arch, and the two left behind the only home either of them had really known.</p><p></p><p>The Golden Road, running through the center of U’tep, was well-traveled with inns no more than two days ride separating one another. It paralleled the river for much of its course, turning away into the mountains when the river turned sharply on its journey to the sea. The foothills ascended almost lazily and the Road curved among the rising peaks to finally cut through a wide, open pass, leading to a slender valley crisscrossed by cold streams and several small lakes. The land here buckled, as if a giant god had kneeled upon the ground and shoved the rock to one side like a thick blanket. Cauldron lay on the other side of the valley, one peak indistinguishable from the many.</p><p></p><p>The journey had been thankfully uneventful. The weather had been calm, the innkeepers hospitable, the fellow travelers friendly. Abrina had made good time, and she whispered a prayer to Ninurta in thanks for hastening her journey.</p><p></p><p>The Golden Road turned south, cradling a large, two-story inn within its bend <span style="color: darkorchid">to the east of the road, partially surrounded by the dense jungle.</span> The gray and dreary day was just turning into a dark and dreary evening when she led her horse up to <span style="color: darkorchid">the old and well-used building. The chimneys were stained with soot, the roof sagged, and the wood siding was weathered and stained from last years mildew. A smaller stable stood to the building’s side in a similar condition.</span></p><p></p><p>There had been no rain, but enough moisture in the air soaked the ground to prove troublesome as Abrina dismounted and led her horse to the stables. Clods of mud fell from her mount’s hooves with every step, streaks of mud stained her cloak and vestments. As Abrina grumbled to herself, attempting to brush off the larger pieces of wet dirt that slowly ground themselves into her clothes, she passed beneath the faded, gently swinging wooden sign.</p><p> </p><p>Abrina sighed with relief when she recognized the sign that hung above the inn’s door from Kevur’s description. With what must have once been bright colors, a stylized monkey had been painted on the square piece of wood. Long arms nearly twice the length of the creature’s body formed a rough “S” shape, each paw grasping what looked like a six-sided die. Above the animal, in stylized letters not out of place at a carnival, were the words, “The Lucky Monkey.” <span style="color: darkorchid">The building’s façade sported numerous carved wooden monkeys, many of whom were engaged in risky, death-defying stunts. In one, a wooden monkey balanced on a narrow tree branch to get a banana hanging over a sleeping tiger; in another, a monkey sat on a boulder completely unaware that a poacher sneaking up behind him was suddenly attacked and eaten by an ankheg.</span></p><p> </p><p>The sign and the various carvings brought a chuckle from Abrina. She left her horse with the stableboy and promptly ducked into the inn. The Lucky Monkey would be the last stop where Abrina could find a place to rest before ascending the mountain; it would be a full day of travel before she reached the volcano-city.</p><p></p><p>The meal was fair, the proprietor kind. Abrina paid for a comfortable room for the night and ascended the stairs to rest for her difficult hike up the mountain the following morning. She locked the door behind her as she set down her traveling pack and the scroll case by the writing desk. She removed her armor and her vestments, untied the bandana that held her hair back to allow it to fall to her bare shoulders, and brought her fingers to the pendant hanging from her neck. She had not removed it, nor her holy symbol of Ninurta, since her first day on the road, since Kevur had presented it to her. Abrina sighed and leaned down to remove her blanket from her pack before resigning herself to the straw-filled mattress and a full night of blissful, uninterrupted sleep.</p><p></p><p>As she ruffled through her pack something rammed into her back, sending her sprawling across the floor, her breath knocked out of her. Abrina struggled to rise from the floor, only to have a booted foot come down on her back, forcing her back to the floor.</p><p></p><p>“What are you doing here, cleric?” a woman’s voice sneered as the heel of the boot ground into Abrina’s spine. Abrina groaned and tried to twist out from beneath the painful boot, but the woman only leaned her weight on Abrina even more.</p><p></p><p>“I am passing through,” Abrina managed to say, gasping for air. “I have a message, in the name of Ninurta.”</p><p></p><p>“A message?” The woman’s voice was deep, gravelly. “Who are you delivering it to?”</p><p></p><p>Between clenched teeth, Abrina managed to cough out a response. “That is none of your concern,” she responded with uncharacteristic temerity.</p><p></p><p>The woman laughed. “Who are you to deny me?” she asked, her boot remaining in place and pressing deeper.</p><p></p><p>“I am no one,” Abrina said between gasps, “It’s just a letter, nothing more.”</p><p></p><p>“Liar,” said the woman, finally removing her boot, but Abrina had little chance to recover before that same boot kicked in her side. Abrina tried to roll away and scramble for the door. Nausea nearly overwhelmed her, but she managed to remain conscious and look up into her attacker’s face.</p><p></p><p>The face was painted, half black and half white, obscuring the woman’s features but not the intent. Her dark brown eyes were narrowed, boring into Abrina through to the rough planks of the wall behind her. She was dressed in tight-fitting black clothes, with a dark cloak that billowed behind her. The attacker moved gracefully, skillfully, as if she was at one with the shadows, and drew close.</p><p></p><p> “Listen to me, weakling, and listen well, for I will not repeat myself. You may deliver your little message, your letter. It means little to us because our plans are already in motion. Take it to Urikas and leave, run home, but do not stay in Cauldron. We know who you are, we know what you are here for, and we are going to give you a chance to leave and not come back. If you don’t….” The woman gave Abrina another kick.</p><p></p><p>“Then we will have the last laugh.” She threw back her head and cackled, as if she alone understood the punchline to her inside joke. Abrina cringed, backing into the corner, nursing her side.</p><p></p><p>The woman passed by the desk, her fingers trailing along the scrollcase. She turned to the window, open, Abrina noticed for the first time, and leapt into the night. Abrina heard the soft thump of the woman hitting the soft ground outside, then, nothing.</p><p></p><p>Bruised and scared, Abrina slowly walked to the window and without glancing outside she shut it and returned to the bed. She lay down, her blanket forgotten, and replayed the words of the woman in black in her mind. She grasped the symbol around her neck and stared at the ceiling.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="hbarsquared, post: 2986971, member: 4550"] [b]Prologue, Part Three[/b] Abrina packed lightly and left her town of Narim by the north gate, little more than a small and decorative arch of stone with not even a wall attached. No one stood guard except for one elderly woman tearing out weeds from her garden. Abrina sat high upon a muscled and energetic young colt, his reigns handed to her by Kevur after the time for tearful good-byes had come to a close. Eager for the journey, her mount nearly pranced through the arch, and the two left behind the only home either of them had really known. The Golden Road, running through the center of U’tep, was well-traveled with inns no more than two days ride separating one another. It paralleled the river for much of its course, turning away into the mountains when the river turned sharply on its journey to the sea. The foothills ascended almost lazily and the Road curved among the rising peaks to finally cut through a wide, open pass, leading to a slender valley crisscrossed by cold streams and several small lakes. The land here buckled, as if a giant god had kneeled upon the ground and shoved the rock to one side like a thick blanket. Cauldron lay on the other side of the valley, one peak indistinguishable from the many. The journey had been thankfully uneventful. The weather had been calm, the innkeepers hospitable, the fellow travelers friendly. Abrina had made good time, and she whispered a prayer to Ninurta in thanks for hastening her journey. The Golden Road turned south, cradling a large, two-story inn within its bend [color=darkorchid]to the east of the road, partially surrounded by the dense jungle.[/color] The gray and dreary day was just turning into a dark and dreary evening when she led her horse up to [color=darkorchid]the old and well-used building. The chimneys were stained with soot, the roof sagged, and the wood siding was weathered and stained from last years mildew. A smaller stable stood to the building’s side in a similar condition.[/color] There had been no rain, but enough moisture in the air soaked the ground to prove troublesome as Abrina dismounted and led her horse to the stables. Clods of mud fell from her mount’s hooves with every step, streaks of mud stained her cloak and vestments. As Abrina grumbled to herself, attempting to brush off the larger pieces of wet dirt that slowly ground themselves into her clothes, she passed beneath the faded, gently swinging wooden sign. Abrina sighed with relief when she recognized the sign that hung above the inn’s door from Kevur’s description. With what must have once been bright colors, a stylized monkey had been painted on the square piece of wood. Long arms nearly twice the length of the creature’s body formed a rough “S” shape, each paw grasping what looked like a six-sided die. Above the animal, in stylized letters not out of place at a carnival, were the words, “The Lucky Monkey.” [color=darkorchid]The building’s façade sported numerous carved wooden monkeys, many of whom were engaged in risky, death-defying stunts. In one, a wooden monkey balanced on a narrow tree branch to get a banana hanging over a sleeping tiger; in another, a monkey sat on a boulder completely unaware that a poacher sneaking up behind him was suddenly attacked and eaten by an ankheg.[/color] The sign and the various carvings brought a chuckle from Abrina. She left her horse with the stableboy and promptly ducked into the inn. The Lucky Monkey would be the last stop where Abrina could find a place to rest before ascending the mountain; it would be a full day of travel before she reached the volcano-city. The meal was fair, the proprietor kind. Abrina paid for a comfortable room for the night and ascended the stairs to rest for her difficult hike up the mountain the following morning. She locked the door behind her as she set down her traveling pack and the scroll case by the writing desk. She removed her armor and her vestments, untied the bandana that held her hair back to allow it to fall to her bare shoulders, and brought her fingers to the pendant hanging from her neck. She had not removed it, nor her holy symbol of Ninurta, since her first day on the road, since Kevur had presented it to her. Abrina sighed and leaned down to remove her blanket from her pack before resigning herself to the straw-filled mattress and a full night of blissful, uninterrupted sleep. As she ruffled through her pack something rammed into her back, sending her sprawling across the floor, her breath knocked out of her. Abrina struggled to rise from the floor, only to have a booted foot come down on her back, forcing her back to the floor. “What are you doing here, cleric?” a woman’s voice sneered as the heel of the boot ground into Abrina’s spine. Abrina groaned and tried to twist out from beneath the painful boot, but the woman only leaned her weight on Abrina even more. “I am passing through,” Abrina managed to say, gasping for air. “I have a message, in the name of Ninurta.” “A message?” The woman’s voice was deep, gravelly. “Who are you delivering it to?” Between clenched teeth, Abrina managed to cough out a response. “That is none of your concern,” she responded with uncharacteristic temerity. The woman laughed. “Who are you to deny me?” she asked, her boot remaining in place and pressing deeper. “I am no one,” Abrina said between gasps, “It’s just a letter, nothing more.” “Liar,” said the woman, finally removing her boot, but Abrina had little chance to recover before that same boot kicked in her side. Abrina tried to roll away and scramble for the door. Nausea nearly overwhelmed her, but she managed to remain conscious and look up into her attacker’s face. The face was painted, half black and half white, obscuring the woman’s features but not the intent. Her dark brown eyes were narrowed, boring into Abrina through to the rough planks of the wall behind her. She was dressed in tight-fitting black clothes, with a dark cloak that billowed behind her. The attacker moved gracefully, skillfully, as if she was at one with the shadows, and drew close. “Listen to me, weakling, and listen well, for I will not repeat myself. You may deliver your little message, your letter. It means little to us because our plans are already in motion. Take it to Urikas and leave, run home, but do not stay in Cauldron. We know who you are, we know what you are here for, and we are going to give you a chance to leave and not come back. If you don’t….” The woman gave Abrina another kick. “Then we will have the last laugh.” She threw back her head and cackled, as if she alone understood the punchline to her inside joke. Abrina cringed, backing into the corner, nursing her side. The woman passed by the desk, her fingers trailing along the scrollcase. She turned to the window, open, Abrina noticed for the first time, and leapt into the night. Abrina heard the soft thump of the woman hitting the soft ground outside, then, nothing. Bruised and scared, Abrina slowly walked to the window and without glancing outside she shut it and returned to the bed. She lay down, her blanket forgotten, and replayed the words of the woman in black in her mind. She grasped the symbol around her neck and stared at the ceiling. [/QUOTE]
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