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Chronicles of a Cooper. (post 19, Rosedale)
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<blockquote data-quote="alsih2o" data-source="post: 2198818" data-attributes="member: 4790"><p><strong>Rosedale</strong></p><p></p><p>Porter took the rode in long strides.</p><p></p><p> The man named Walther had not quit talking for an hour. Walther kept referring to book after book as if Porter had read them all. Porter repeated the pattern of opening his mouth to speak every time Walther paused and then being left with his mouth hanging open, as Walther would launch back into his monologue.</p><p></p><p> The words were all confusing. ‘Ancient’ came up a lot, as did ‘Research’. And ‘Me’ and ‘My’ and ‘I’ and all kinds of other words that had nothing to do with getting Porter something to eat and maybe some hot water to put his feet in. </p><p></p><p> Porter removed his hat and wiped the sweat form the bald spot on the top of his head as he thought of the hot water. Then he jumped up to his toes and spread his arms to stop.</p><p></p><p> He had been keeping quite a clip behind the robber man as he spoke of Rosedale and some bit of research. Rosedale. Why did that sound familiar to him?</p><p></p><p> Walther was rambling about his research and the man who sent him and explaining why he had to do it when he stopped very suddenly and turned to Porter and said “Wizard” and pointed to his hat.</p><p></p><p> The shock of trying to figure out if this was a question or a statement jarred Porter and he remembered why he knew the name Rosedale.</p><p></p><p> “The halfie!” Porter exclaimed, quite proud of himself and just a little shocked at hearing his own voice after so much of Walther’s.</p><p></p><p> “Pardon, ay?” asked Walther. “Half ‘E’? What’s that?”</p><p></p><p> “Rosedale,” declared Porter, happy to be on the explaining end of the conversation “Rosedale has a halfie, a smith from home told me ‘bout it.”</p><p></p><p> “Again, large friend I am going to have to ask what a half ‘E’ is.” Porter tried not to laugh as Walther questioned him. This funny looking man made an even funnier looking face when he did not understand something. His face changed like a saucer of milk when you bump a table. His eyebrows and mouth were struggling around in little circles trying to find their way back to where they had been when the conversation started.</p><p></p><p> “A half elf. Now, I figure a town with something like a half-elf is gonna have a fair or show or sumthin’ where you kin see it, right?”</p><p></p><p> “Well, I,” Walther paused at this point, looking up the road. “I,…suppose.”</p><p></p><p> Walther’s mouth fell open at the site of Rosedale. Spread before them was a small square terraced above the road with a well-maintained small patch of roses. Around it a ring of building marked the center of town. And the rest of the town.</p><p></p><p> “This CANNOT be Rosedale.” Declared Walther in a tone of disbelief.</p><p></p><p> Porter looked at the roses. “Oh, I think it is.” He said.</p><p></p><p> The odd couple stood there, Porter was thrilled that they could quit walking for a short while at least. Walther was horrified.</p><p></p><p> Two men with halberds were leaning against the wall of one of the larger buildings and on spotting Walther and Porter stood and headed towards them.</p><p></p><p> Porter rested one hand on his hatchet and the other on his hammer.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="alsih2o, post: 2198818, member: 4790"] [b]Rosedale[/b] Porter took the rode in long strides. The man named Walther had not quit talking for an hour. Walther kept referring to book after book as if Porter had read them all. Porter repeated the pattern of opening his mouth to speak every time Walther paused and then being left with his mouth hanging open, as Walther would launch back into his monologue. The words were all confusing. ‘Ancient’ came up a lot, as did ‘Research’. And ‘Me’ and ‘My’ and ‘I’ and all kinds of other words that had nothing to do with getting Porter something to eat and maybe some hot water to put his feet in. Porter removed his hat and wiped the sweat form the bald spot on the top of his head as he thought of the hot water. Then he jumped up to his toes and spread his arms to stop. He had been keeping quite a clip behind the robber man as he spoke of Rosedale and some bit of research. Rosedale. Why did that sound familiar to him? Walther was rambling about his research and the man who sent him and explaining why he had to do it when he stopped very suddenly and turned to Porter and said “Wizard” and pointed to his hat. The shock of trying to figure out if this was a question or a statement jarred Porter and he remembered why he knew the name Rosedale. “The halfie!” Porter exclaimed, quite proud of himself and just a little shocked at hearing his own voice after so much of Walther’s. “Pardon, ay?” asked Walther. “Half ‘E’? What’s that?” “Rosedale,” declared Porter, happy to be on the explaining end of the conversation “Rosedale has a halfie, a smith from home told me ‘bout it.” “Again, large friend I am going to have to ask what a half ‘E’ is.” Porter tried not to laugh as Walther questioned him. This funny looking man made an even funnier looking face when he did not understand something. His face changed like a saucer of milk when you bump a table. His eyebrows and mouth were struggling around in little circles trying to find their way back to where they had been when the conversation started. “A half elf. Now, I figure a town with something like a half-elf is gonna have a fair or show or sumthin’ where you kin see it, right?” “Well, I,” Walther paused at this point, looking up the road. “I,…suppose.” Walther’s mouth fell open at the site of Rosedale. Spread before them was a small square terraced above the road with a well-maintained small patch of roses. Around it a ring of building marked the center of town. And the rest of the town. “This CANNOT be Rosedale.” Declared Walther in a tone of disbelief. Porter looked at the roses. “Oh, I think it is.” He said. The odd couple stood there, Porter was thrilled that they could quit walking for a short while at least. Walther was horrified. Two men with halberds were leaning against the wall of one of the larger buildings and on spotting Walther and Porter stood and headed towards them. Porter rested one hand on his hatchet and the other on his hammer. [/QUOTE]
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