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The Chronicle of Burne, and Some Others of Lesser Importance *Updated May 17th, 2009*
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<blockquote data-quote="Rolzup" data-source="post: 2822946" data-attributes="member: 10105"><p><strong>The Tale of Burne, and Some Others of Lesser Importance:</strong></p><p></p><p>Abraxis, for whatever reason, has been encouraging me to begin a journal. "Stuff and nonsense," was my first thought. "I've no time for such fripperies!" But then I realized that I was denying posterity a chance to know the true thoughts of Burne. </p><p></p><p>This would be very nearly a crime, and I shall not have it upon my conscience. </p><p></p><p>And so. I begin. </p><p></p><p>I am dictating this memoir to my famulus Abraxis, a clockwork feline of cunning design. A little unbalanced, and not quite as intelligent as I had hoped, but it was my journeyman project as an Alchemist. And, despite its many flaws, Abraxis serves as an unquestioned harbinger of my later brilliance. His handwriting -- paw-writing, ha! -- is sadly lacking, but it shall have to do. </p><p></p><p>BURNE IS AN UNMITIGATED JACKASS. AND MY HANDWRITING IS BETTER THAN HIS. PLUS, HE NEVER BOTHERED TO LEARN ERISIAN SHORTHAND.</p><p></p><p>We must start, I suppose, with my companions, those brave men who have so wisely accepted my leadership in these troubled times.</p><p></p><p>I first saw them upon Opium Way, as I was shopping for reagents, and I was instantly suspicious of their motives. A pair of Ajakhani savages, along with an obvious madman, walking boldly along the CITY streets! What possible business could they have here, on the borders of the Narayan’s Little Ajakhan district? They pretended not to know each other, but the truth was all too clear to me....they were almost certainly spies, and probably saboteurs to boot. I took it upon myself to follow them, remaining cleverly hidden within the crowds, to ensure that they did no harm to this great CITY. </p><p></p><p>HE WAS CARRYING AN 8 FOOT TALL HALBERD, AND ALREADY STOOD TALLER THAN ANYONE IN THE CROWD. HE WASN'T FOOLING ANYBODY. </p><p></p><p>My suspicions were confirmed when they assaulted three young men who were preparing to beat a cat that they had hung from a sign-post. They took offense, for some reason, at these children and their innocent game. Foreigners! Who can fathom their motives? </p><p></p><p>I stepped forward to remonstrate with them, but matters resolved themselves with remarkable speed. They had seemingly mistaken the creature for a "pinyates", a lesser sort of household god, believed by the superstitious to break open and release minor miracles when beaten with a stick. In my experience, they're more likely to release various internal organs, but hope springs eternal.</p><p></p><p>Ah! The wholesome pursuits of youth! </p><p></p><p>In truth, it was merely a mundane cat, dyed green by some unknown agency. Who had dyed it, however? And for what purpose? My brief examination of the beast revealed a dye of unusual qualities had been used, a chemical that I was entirely unfamiliar with. And this, this was virtually unheard of!</p><p></p><p>I must confess that my memories of what follows are a little blurred. The children were run off, a shop-keeper interrogated, and (very) brief introductions made. The foreigners were revealed to be a sword-wielding transvestite of some apparent import, hight "Kenji", and a scarlet-clad archer of grim demeanor who styled himself "Rackhir".</p><p></p><p>NO, NO, HE CAN'T SAY "NAMED". HAS TO BE "HIGHT", BECAUSE THAT'S FANCY-TALK.</p><p></p><p>HE WRITES POETRY SOMETIMES, YOU KNOW. UNFORTUNATELY, I WAS NOT CONSTRUCTED TO BE ABLE TO REMOVE MY OWN EARS.</p><p></p><p>AS A FURTHER CLARIFICATION, KENJI IS NOT A TRANSVESTITE. HE WAS WEARING A KIMONO, AS HE GENERALLY DOES. IF IGNORANCE COULD BE BOTTLED, BURNE WOULD BE A WINERY.</p><p></p><p>The madman, I found, was a good deal more than he appeared. He was one of those both blessed and cursed with a primal connection to CITY, and was thus deserving of some grudging respect. </p><p></p><p>Had his fearful gnosis driven him mad, I wondered? Or was his condition a reflection of the troubled state of CITY itself? I must remember to compose a monograph upon this subject. Make a note of it, Abraxis! </p><p></p><p>In any case, he had no name, or none that he would give. He carried all of his possessions with him, in a rude hand-pulled cart, and was accompanied only by a mongrel dog and a fearsome odor. </p><p></p><p>Ah! Lest I forget, there was also a hannu who followed in this Kenji fellow's wake. He called himself, quaintly enough, "Doctor" Wu, and appeared to serve as some kind of butler. Doctor indeed...it is shameful, what they call an education in foreign lands! </p><p></p><p>We set out together, then, into the very heart of Little Azhikhan to investigate the origins of this green-hued cat. I was motivated partially by curiosity, for this dye was of an interesting and unfamiliar composition, and partially by the need to keep an eye on these suspicious individuals. </p><p></p><p>Why did they follow my lead? I cannot say. Perhaps green cats are a delicacy in their land. Or perhaps they were a little awed by a man of my bearing and obvious military experience. Certainly, this was the first wisdom they had yet shown on this evening. </p><p></p><p>HE SPENT THREE WEEKS IN THE NAVAL ACADEMY BEFORE BURNING HIS DORMITORY DOWN. HE CLAIMS THAT THIS WAS AN ACCIDENT. I THINK THAT HE'S LYING ABOUT THAT. </p><p></p><p>Of course, in such an areas as this, overrun by foreigners, violence was inevitable. And, truth be told, a little welcome. </p><p></p><p>There were four, perhaps five men, assaulting a hannu and a seemingly unconscious giant dressed in the rags and tatters of a naval uniform. I could not allow a fellow veteran to be attacked in such a manor, and promptly intervened in the matter. </p><p></p><p>Two of them I set aflame, and the remainder fled in panic. Rakhir, I believe, fired a few arrows and may have caused them some small injury, but it was the fear of Burne that gave wings to their feet! </p><p></p><p>RAKHIR KILLED TWO OF THEM. THREE, MAYBE. BURNE KILLED ONE, SINGED ANOTHER, AND TALKED A LOT. HE USUALLY DOES. NOBODY BOTHERS TO LISTEN, THOUGH. </p><p></p><p>The Giant, who called himself Tenor, had drunk himself into a stupor, but his simian friend managed to rouse him. They expressed their gratitude for my heroic actions, and declared themselves in my debt. </p><p></p><p>Which, in point of fact, they were. </p><p></p><p>The thugs had, apparently, been after the giant's heart -- a common sort of ingredient in alchemical workings of the darker kind. Foul stuff, I should add, and not the sort that I would have any part in. </p><p></p><p>In the meantime, Kenji and the madman were, apparently, interfering in a kidnapping a few blocks further on. Why they had strayed ahead, I cannot guess. They're like children, really...so easily distracted. </p><p></p><p>THE SOUND OF SCREAMING HAD BEEN CLEARLY AUDABLE FOR THE PAST SEVERAL MINUTES. THE SAMURAI AND HOMELESS FELLOW WENT TO HELP HER. RAKHIR THEN FOLLOWED, WHILE BURNE ROBBED THE DEAD. HE WILL DIE ALONE.</p><p></p><p>Blood was shed, and Kenji demonstrated that he did indeed know how to use that Erisian broadsword that he was so arrogantly carrying. Between them, he and the madman accounted for a handful of incompetent thugs, and rescued the intended victim, but their leader made his escape. </p><p></p><p>In a sedan chair, if you can credit it. Vague threats were, I believe, made. </p><p></p><p>The woman, seemingly in a state of shock, managed to offer her thanks and to beg us not to tell her father of what had occurred. And then she fainted; overawed by my very presence, I suspect. </p><p></p><p>BURNE DOESN'T BRUSH HIS TEETH VERY OFTEN. AND HE ALWAYS SMELLS LIKE SMOKE. AND HIS CLOTHES HAVE HOLES IN THEM. AND HE'S REALLY MEAN TO HIS FAMILIAR, WHO DESERVES MUCH BETTER. </p><p></p><p>And that, as I recall, is when we met yet another foreign devil, albeit a polite one for a change. Mop Mop Bow, he called himself....</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Rolzup, post: 2822946, member: 10105"] [B]The Tale of Burne, and Some Others of Lesser Importance:[/B] Abraxis, for whatever reason, has been encouraging me to begin a journal. "Stuff and nonsense," was my first thought. "I've no time for such fripperies!" But then I realized that I was denying posterity a chance to know the true thoughts of Burne. This would be very nearly a crime, and I shall not have it upon my conscience. And so. I begin. I am dictating this memoir to my famulus Abraxis, a clockwork feline of cunning design. A little unbalanced, and not quite as intelligent as I had hoped, but it was my journeyman project as an Alchemist. And, despite its many flaws, Abraxis serves as an unquestioned harbinger of my later brilliance. His handwriting -- paw-writing, ha! -- is sadly lacking, but it shall have to do. BURNE IS AN UNMITIGATED JACKASS. AND MY HANDWRITING IS BETTER THAN HIS. PLUS, HE NEVER BOTHERED TO LEARN ERISIAN SHORTHAND. We must start, I suppose, with my companions, those brave men who have so wisely accepted my leadership in these troubled times. I first saw them upon Opium Way, as I was shopping for reagents, and I was instantly suspicious of their motives. A pair of Ajakhani savages, along with an obvious madman, walking boldly along the CITY streets! What possible business could they have here, on the borders of the Narayan’s Little Ajakhan district? They pretended not to know each other, but the truth was all too clear to me....they were almost certainly spies, and probably saboteurs to boot. I took it upon myself to follow them, remaining cleverly hidden within the crowds, to ensure that they did no harm to this great CITY. HE WAS CARRYING AN 8 FOOT TALL HALBERD, AND ALREADY STOOD TALLER THAN ANYONE IN THE CROWD. HE WASN'T FOOLING ANYBODY. My suspicions were confirmed when they assaulted three young men who were preparing to beat a cat that they had hung from a sign-post. They took offense, for some reason, at these children and their innocent game. Foreigners! Who can fathom their motives? I stepped forward to remonstrate with them, but matters resolved themselves with remarkable speed. They had seemingly mistaken the creature for a "pinyates", a lesser sort of household god, believed by the superstitious to break open and release minor miracles when beaten with a stick. In my experience, they're more likely to release various internal organs, but hope springs eternal. Ah! The wholesome pursuits of youth! In truth, it was merely a mundane cat, dyed green by some unknown agency. Who had dyed it, however? And for what purpose? My brief examination of the beast revealed a dye of unusual qualities had been used, a chemical that I was entirely unfamiliar with. And this, this was virtually unheard of! I must confess that my memories of what follows are a little blurred. The children were run off, a shop-keeper interrogated, and (very) brief introductions made. The foreigners were revealed to be a sword-wielding transvestite of some apparent import, hight "Kenji", and a scarlet-clad archer of grim demeanor who styled himself "Rackhir". NO, NO, HE CAN'T SAY "NAMED". HAS TO BE "HIGHT", BECAUSE THAT'S FANCY-TALK. HE WRITES POETRY SOMETIMES, YOU KNOW. UNFORTUNATELY, I WAS NOT CONSTRUCTED TO BE ABLE TO REMOVE MY OWN EARS. AS A FURTHER CLARIFICATION, KENJI IS NOT A TRANSVESTITE. HE WAS WEARING A KIMONO, AS HE GENERALLY DOES. IF IGNORANCE COULD BE BOTTLED, BURNE WOULD BE A WINERY. The madman, I found, was a good deal more than he appeared. He was one of those both blessed and cursed with a primal connection to CITY, and was thus deserving of some grudging respect. Had his fearful gnosis driven him mad, I wondered? Or was his condition a reflection of the troubled state of CITY itself? I must remember to compose a monograph upon this subject. Make a note of it, Abraxis! In any case, he had no name, or none that he would give. He carried all of his possessions with him, in a rude hand-pulled cart, and was accompanied only by a mongrel dog and a fearsome odor. Ah! Lest I forget, there was also a hannu who followed in this Kenji fellow's wake. He called himself, quaintly enough, "Doctor" Wu, and appeared to serve as some kind of butler. Doctor indeed...it is shameful, what they call an education in foreign lands! We set out together, then, into the very heart of Little Azhikhan to investigate the origins of this green-hued cat. I was motivated partially by curiosity, for this dye was of an interesting and unfamiliar composition, and partially by the need to keep an eye on these suspicious individuals. Why did they follow my lead? I cannot say. Perhaps green cats are a delicacy in their land. Or perhaps they were a little awed by a man of my bearing and obvious military experience. Certainly, this was the first wisdom they had yet shown on this evening. HE SPENT THREE WEEKS IN THE NAVAL ACADEMY BEFORE BURNING HIS DORMITORY DOWN. HE CLAIMS THAT THIS WAS AN ACCIDENT. I THINK THAT HE'S LYING ABOUT THAT. Of course, in such an areas as this, overrun by foreigners, violence was inevitable. And, truth be told, a little welcome. There were four, perhaps five men, assaulting a hannu and a seemingly unconscious giant dressed in the rags and tatters of a naval uniform. I could not allow a fellow veteran to be attacked in such a manor, and promptly intervened in the matter. Two of them I set aflame, and the remainder fled in panic. Rakhir, I believe, fired a few arrows and may have caused them some small injury, but it was the fear of Burne that gave wings to their feet! RAKHIR KILLED TWO OF THEM. THREE, MAYBE. BURNE KILLED ONE, SINGED ANOTHER, AND TALKED A LOT. HE USUALLY DOES. NOBODY BOTHERS TO LISTEN, THOUGH. The Giant, who called himself Tenor, had drunk himself into a stupor, but his simian friend managed to rouse him. They expressed their gratitude for my heroic actions, and declared themselves in my debt. Which, in point of fact, they were. The thugs had, apparently, been after the giant's heart -- a common sort of ingredient in alchemical workings of the darker kind. Foul stuff, I should add, and not the sort that I would have any part in. In the meantime, Kenji and the madman were, apparently, interfering in a kidnapping a few blocks further on. Why they had strayed ahead, I cannot guess. They're like children, really...so easily distracted. THE SOUND OF SCREAMING HAD BEEN CLEARLY AUDABLE FOR THE PAST SEVERAL MINUTES. THE SAMURAI AND HOMELESS FELLOW WENT TO HELP HER. RAKHIR THEN FOLLOWED, WHILE BURNE ROBBED THE DEAD. HE WILL DIE ALONE. Blood was shed, and Kenji demonstrated that he did indeed know how to use that Erisian broadsword that he was so arrogantly carrying. Between them, he and the madman accounted for a handful of incompetent thugs, and rescued the intended victim, but their leader made his escape. In a sedan chair, if you can credit it. Vague threats were, I believe, made. The woman, seemingly in a state of shock, managed to offer her thanks and to beg us not to tell her father of what had occurred. And then she fainted; overawed by my very presence, I suspect. BURNE DOESN'T BRUSH HIS TEETH VERY OFTEN. AND HE ALWAYS SMELLS LIKE SMOKE. AND HIS CLOTHES HAVE HOLES IN THEM. AND HE'S REALLY MEAN TO HIS FAMILIAR, WHO DESERVES MUCH BETTER. And that, as I recall, is when we met yet another foreign devil, albeit a polite one for a change. Mop Mop Bow, he called himself.... [/QUOTE]
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