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ceramic d.m. final judgement posted
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<blockquote data-quote="Buttercup" data-source="post: 548872" data-attributes="member: 990"><p>Ok, here's my entry. Be kind to me.<img src="data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7" class="smilie smilie--sprite smilie--sprite9" alt=":eek:" title="Eek! :eek:" loading="lazy" data-shortname=":eek:" /> </p><p></p><p>The Kindness of Strangers</p><p></p><p>(insert image of child on the mountain here) </p><p>It was a fine spring day when Gar found the child wandering alone in the foothills north of Stedford town. Several of the lambs had strayed, so Gar sent the dog to round up the ones to the south of the flock, while he himself climbed north. It was a rare brown lamb, whose tawny wool would fetch a handsome sum at the market, so Gar was determined not to let it fall into one of the many cracks & fissures which crossed these high hills. When he spied the lamb, it wasn’t alone. There was a small child kneeling with its arms around the fuzzy little creature. “Here now!” Called Gar. “How did a wee one such as yourself get way up here? Doncha know these mountains are dangerous?” The child looked up from the lamb and into Gar’s face. It’s eyes were large and black. “Who’s your mother, laddie?” asked the kind shepherd. The child remained silent, and continued to stare into Gar’s face. Gar noticed that there was something strange about those eyes. They seemed to draw one into endless depths. Gar shook his head, and mumbled something about the thin air of the mountain making him light headed. “Laddie, you’d best come back to town with me. Scooping up the brown lamb under one strong arm, and the boy under the other, Gar made his way back to the flock. The dog had rounded all of the sheep up and had them ready to descend the steep mountain path.</p><p></p><p>By the time they had returned all the sheep & lambs to their pens dusk had fallen, so Gar took the child home with him, intending to find the boy’s parents on the morrow. Gar’s wife took one look at the small boy and with a low cry scooped him into her arms. “He can’t have more than five summers, Gar! He might have died up on the mountain alone. His parents must be frantic!” she said. Gar’s wife mothered the child, feeding and bathing him, then wrapping him in a warm blanket and cradling him on her lap by the fire. She gazed into the child’s strange black eyes as she rocked him. She seemed to sink into their depths….</p><p></p><p>Gar & his wife took the child to the magistrate next morning, but were told that no one had reported a missing boy. It was agreed that the child would stay with the shepherd & his wife while a search was conducted for the parents of this silent boy with the strange eyes. Each day Gar or his wife took the child with them as they went up and down each street of Stedford, asking everyone they passed, knocking on doors, visiting temples. No one knew the boy. </p><p></p><p>Spring turned to summer, and a pall seemed to fall over Stedford. The weather was hot and dry, causing tempers to flare. Petty fights broke out among townsmen over inconsequential things. Beatings and murders, once a rarity in the peaceful town, began to be commonplace. Even the captain of the city guard was seen striking his wife in the town square. Gar and his wife snarled and snapped at each other, like the rest of the citizens. Always the boy watched them, with his strange dark eyes. </p><p>(Insert picture of man striking woman here)</p><p></p><p>The summer dragged on, hotter and dryer than anyone could recall in the past. People began to feel ill, most said from the heat. Wells began to go brackish, and anyone who drank their water became weak, and developed a dry, hacking cough. Gar and his wife both fell ill. Gar’s wife no longer had the strength to continue the search for the boy’s parents. Gar no longer took the sheep up the mountain—he was too weak to make the climb. The strange, silent boy seemed unaffected by the heat, and did not fall ill. He began to sit on the bench outside Gar’s door, staring at the passersby with his odd eyes. Sometimes the boy wandered off, always returning within a few hours. Gar’s wife worried about this, but every time she was on the verge of scolding the child, he would stare at her, and she would forget what she was going to say. One day, Gar’s wife could not get out of bed. Huge boils were beginning to form on her face.</p><p>(insert picture of woman with icky boils here)</p><p> </p><p>Gar looked at the ruins of his wife’s face, but he felt as though he watched the world through a fog. It distantly occurred to him that his wife might be dying, and that he might not be far behind. Marshalling every last ounce of strength, he turned to the child, who was sitting calmly, staring at the ravaged figure on the bed. “Come, boy. We’re too sick to care for you any longer. Let’s go to the temple. I’m sorry.” Then taking the child by the hand, he led him out the door and toward the Temple of the Sun, hard by the town gates.</p><p>As Gar and the boy approached the temple, a disturbance erupted not five feet from the steps. A King’s Runner had collapsed on the pavement, face down, and two clerics knelt beside him. The runner gasped out his message. “A pestilence is sweeping the kingdom out of the north. The king’s healers and sages are powerless to halt its progress, or even to explain its origin. It starts with loss of appetite, then emotional disturbances, usually resulting in anger and hostility. It is followed by a cough, fever and finally huge boils on the face. Death follows within hours of the appearance of the boils.” The runner then coughed weakly, and rolled over onto his back. His face was covered with huge boils. He coughed once again, gasped, and died where he lay. The clerics cried out in horror, and began to pray over the lifeless form. Gar looked on, trying to make sense out of what he had just heard. His head was spinning from fever. He did not realize that the boy was nowhere to be found. Indeed he had completely forgotten why he had come. </p><p></p><p>Three days later, the child wandered through the deserted streets of Stedford. As the sun set, the child entered the city square and stooped to the pavement with a piece of charcoal in his hands. He began to draw symbols on the ground. If Gar had been alive, he would have been surprised at how tall the child had grown, and at the oddly deep chanting which emerged from the mouth of the boy. Soon the symbols on the pavement began to glimmer. A shimmering disk of light began to form in the air. After a minute, or so, the boy’s voice raised into a horrid shriek. Large shapes began to pour through the shimmering portal that now appeared. The hoards of leathery black creatures knelt before the boy. “We come, master!” one of them said. The child opened his mouth wide, revealing far too many needle-sharp teeth, and let loose an ear-piercing cry. The black creatures scattered throughout the dead town. The not-child then turned and walked across the square to the body of a young woman who was slumped on the stones. He began to feed. Behind him was a strange container, made out of bamboo. It had not been there the day before. The not-boy ate neatly, and with gusto. When the arm bone on which he gnawed was completely clean, he threw it into the crate. Soon the leathery creatures began to return, depositing more bones into the crate. When the sun rose, the crate was full of bones, and the leathery creatures were gone. The boy, now the size of a young man, stood and looked at it with a strange smile on his face.</p><p>(insert picture of crate of bones here)</p><p> </p><p></p><p>It was a chilly autumn day when the patrol rider found the tiny boy wandering at the edge of the forest. The boy would not or could not speak, to tell where he had come from. Being a kind man, the patrol leader decided to take the tiny child home to his wife, and begin a search for his parents.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Buttercup, post: 548872, member: 990"] Ok, here's my entry. Be kind to me.:o The Kindness of Strangers (insert image of child on the mountain here) It was a fine spring day when Gar found the child wandering alone in the foothills north of Stedford town. Several of the lambs had strayed, so Gar sent the dog to round up the ones to the south of the flock, while he himself climbed north. It was a rare brown lamb, whose tawny wool would fetch a handsome sum at the market, so Gar was determined not to let it fall into one of the many cracks & fissures which crossed these high hills. When he spied the lamb, it wasn’t alone. There was a small child kneeling with its arms around the fuzzy little creature. “Here now!” Called Gar. “How did a wee one such as yourself get way up here? Doncha know these mountains are dangerous?” The child looked up from the lamb and into Gar’s face. It’s eyes were large and black. “Who’s your mother, laddie?” asked the kind shepherd. The child remained silent, and continued to stare into Gar’s face. Gar noticed that there was something strange about those eyes. They seemed to draw one into endless depths. Gar shook his head, and mumbled something about the thin air of the mountain making him light headed. “Laddie, you’d best come back to town with me. Scooping up the brown lamb under one strong arm, and the boy under the other, Gar made his way back to the flock. The dog had rounded all of the sheep up and had them ready to descend the steep mountain path. By the time they had returned all the sheep & lambs to their pens dusk had fallen, so Gar took the child home with him, intending to find the boy’s parents on the morrow. Gar’s wife took one look at the small boy and with a low cry scooped him into her arms. “He can’t have more than five summers, Gar! He might have died up on the mountain alone. His parents must be frantic!” she said. Gar’s wife mothered the child, feeding and bathing him, then wrapping him in a warm blanket and cradling him on her lap by the fire. She gazed into the child’s strange black eyes as she rocked him. She seemed to sink into their depths…. Gar & his wife took the child to the magistrate next morning, but were told that no one had reported a missing boy. It was agreed that the child would stay with the shepherd & his wife while a search was conducted for the parents of this silent boy with the strange eyes. Each day Gar or his wife took the child with them as they went up and down each street of Stedford, asking everyone they passed, knocking on doors, visiting temples. No one knew the boy. Spring turned to summer, and a pall seemed to fall over Stedford. The weather was hot and dry, causing tempers to flare. Petty fights broke out among townsmen over inconsequential things. Beatings and murders, once a rarity in the peaceful town, began to be commonplace. Even the captain of the city guard was seen striking his wife in the town square. Gar and his wife snarled and snapped at each other, like the rest of the citizens. Always the boy watched them, with his strange dark eyes. (Insert picture of man striking woman here) The summer dragged on, hotter and dryer than anyone could recall in the past. People began to feel ill, most said from the heat. Wells began to go brackish, and anyone who drank their water became weak, and developed a dry, hacking cough. Gar and his wife both fell ill. Gar’s wife no longer had the strength to continue the search for the boy’s parents. Gar no longer took the sheep up the mountain—he was too weak to make the climb. The strange, silent boy seemed unaffected by the heat, and did not fall ill. He began to sit on the bench outside Gar’s door, staring at the passersby with his odd eyes. Sometimes the boy wandered off, always returning within a few hours. Gar’s wife worried about this, but every time she was on the verge of scolding the child, he would stare at her, and she would forget what she was going to say. One day, Gar’s wife could not get out of bed. Huge boils were beginning to form on her face. (insert picture of woman with icky boils here) Gar looked at the ruins of his wife’s face, but he felt as though he watched the world through a fog. It distantly occurred to him that his wife might be dying, and that he might not be far behind. Marshalling every last ounce of strength, he turned to the child, who was sitting calmly, staring at the ravaged figure on the bed. “Come, boy. We’re too sick to care for you any longer. Let’s go to the temple. I’m sorry.” Then taking the child by the hand, he led him out the door and toward the Temple of the Sun, hard by the town gates. As Gar and the boy approached the temple, a disturbance erupted not five feet from the steps. A King’s Runner had collapsed on the pavement, face down, and two clerics knelt beside him. The runner gasped out his message. “A pestilence is sweeping the kingdom out of the north. The king’s healers and sages are powerless to halt its progress, or even to explain its origin. It starts with loss of appetite, then emotional disturbances, usually resulting in anger and hostility. It is followed by a cough, fever and finally huge boils on the face. Death follows within hours of the appearance of the boils.” The runner then coughed weakly, and rolled over onto his back. His face was covered with huge boils. He coughed once again, gasped, and died where he lay. The clerics cried out in horror, and began to pray over the lifeless form. Gar looked on, trying to make sense out of what he had just heard. His head was spinning from fever. He did not realize that the boy was nowhere to be found. Indeed he had completely forgotten why he had come. Three days later, the child wandered through the deserted streets of Stedford. As the sun set, the child entered the city square and stooped to the pavement with a piece of charcoal in his hands. He began to draw symbols on the ground. If Gar had been alive, he would have been surprised at how tall the child had grown, and at the oddly deep chanting which emerged from the mouth of the boy. Soon the symbols on the pavement began to glimmer. A shimmering disk of light began to form in the air. After a minute, or so, the boy’s voice raised into a horrid shriek. Large shapes began to pour through the shimmering portal that now appeared. The hoards of leathery black creatures knelt before the boy. “We come, master!” one of them said. The child opened his mouth wide, revealing far too many needle-sharp teeth, and let loose an ear-piercing cry. The black creatures scattered throughout the dead town. The not-child then turned and walked across the square to the body of a young woman who was slumped on the stones. He began to feed. Behind him was a strange container, made out of bamboo. It had not been there the day before. The not-boy ate neatly, and with gusto. When the arm bone on which he gnawed was completely clean, he threw it into the crate. Soon the leathery creatures began to return, depositing more bones into the crate. When the sun rose, the crate was full of bones, and the leathery creatures were gone. The boy, now the size of a young man, stood and looked at it with a strange smile on his face. (insert picture of crate of bones here) It was a chilly autumn day when the patrol rider found the tiny boy wandering at the edge of the forest. The boy would not or could not speak, to tell where he had come from. Being a kind man, the patrol leader decided to take the tiny child home to his wife, and begin a search for his parents. [/QUOTE]
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