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<blockquote data-quote="Ruslanchik" data-source="post: 4126338" data-attributes="member: 45251"><p>Wanderer began the morning as he always does, with several hours of meditation. His mind followed the familiar pathways to calm and quiet, and settled peacefully--the world was good. He was not surprised to hear the voice again, whispering to him in an unknown tongue. As his meditation deepened he thought he could understand the words, but the meaning was beyond him. He listened more intently, careful not to lose himself in the exhilaration and frustration of the moment. Slowly the words began to form into images that overcame his mind and became his meditation.</p><p></p><p><span style="color: Sienna">He was flying over a dense forest. Far in the distance he could see a mountain towering over the trees that stretched ahead of him. The peak was bare and the sun shone brightly upon the sand and rocks. That was his destination. The voice was calling him there. Excitement rose in him. Was this what he had been looking for? He quickly floated up the side of the mountain and found himself at the summit. He stood there expectantly. The voice had stopped. He was alone. He looked out, hoping for something. All he saw was the sun shining brightly upon his mithral skin.</span></p><p></p><p>Wanderer was familiar with the feeling of loneliness that came after such an experience. He longed for direction, answers, peace for himself and others. </p><p></p><p>He rose and stepped from his room into the inn's common room. It was not strictly necessary to have a place to stay, but he enjoyed his private meditations and rooms made those possible. He tossed a coin to the barmaid on his way out into the street. She gave him a perplexed look, but smiled and wished him a good day.</p><p></p><p>He had no destination in mind as he set out, but he did want to see the city. He had been so many places, but he always enjoyed the first impressions of a new place. </p><p></p><p><strong>The fragile races find such comfort in company</strong>, he thought as he watched people walk together about the city. <strong>I have met so many warforged and yet still I travel alone. Will I ever reach my destination? Will I ever find my community?</strong></p><p></p><p>As he thought this Wanderer saw a man in an official-looking uniform hanging a flyer on a message post. He was curious to know about the city and assumed that the man carried local news of some kind. </p><p></p><p>Warforged are nothing if not motivated. Before he had finished reading the posting Wanderer's course of action was clear. He would gather his meager belongings, pay for his room, and set out for the harbor master's house immediately. (He did not consider it odd that he would arrive twelve or more hours early--he could meditate outdoors a easily as in.)</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Ruslanchik, post: 4126338, member: 45251"] Wanderer began the morning as he always does, with several hours of meditation. His mind followed the familiar pathways to calm and quiet, and settled peacefully--the world was good. He was not surprised to hear the voice again, whispering to him in an unknown tongue. As his meditation deepened he thought he could understand the words, but the meaning was beyond him. He listened more intently, careful not to lose himself in the exhilaration and frustration of the moment. Slowly the words began to form into images that overcame his mind and became his meditation. [COLOR=Sienna]He was flying over a dense forest. Far in the distance he could see a mountain towering over the trees that stretched ahead of him. The peak was bare and the sun shone brightly upon the sand and rocks. That was his destination. The voice was calling him there. Excitement rose in him. Was this what he had been looking for? He quickly floated up the side of the mountain and found himself at the summit. He stood there expectantly. The voice had stopped. He was alone. He looked out, hoping for something. All he saw was the sun shining brightly upon his mithral skin.[/COLOR] Wanderer was familiar with the feeling of loneliness that came after such an experience. He longed for direction, answers, peace for himself and others. He rose and stepped from his room into the inn's common room. It was not strictly necessary to have a place to stay, but he enjoyed his private meditations and rooms made those possible. He tossed a coin to the barmaid on his way out into the street. She gave him a perplexed look, but smiled and wished him a good day. He had no destination in mind as he set out, but he did want to see the city. He had been so many places, but he always enjoyed the first impressions of a new place. [B]The fragile races find such comfort in company[/B], he thought as he watched people walk together about the city. [B]I have met so many warforged and yet still I travel alone. Will I ever reach my destination? Will I ever find my community?[/B] As he thought this Wanderer saw a man in an official-looking uniform hanging a flyer on a message post. He was curious to know about the city and assumed that the man carried local news of some kind. Warforged are nothing if not motivated. Before he had finished reading the posting Wanderer's course of action was clear. He would gather his meager belongings, pay for his room, and set out for the harbor master's house immediately. (He did not consider it odd that he would arrive twelve or more hours early--he could meditate outdoors a easily as in.) [/QUOTE]
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