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The Long Arm of Lauto 1: Algarezh Hoofchew
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<blockquote data-quote="balth" data-source="post: 4583243" data-attributes="member: 69401"><p>Balth straightens upright, and begins to walk with the others. </p><p></p><p><span style="color: Lime">I escaped the Imperium and my parent's plans for me to serve in the Senate to find adventure and friendship. I found more than I bargained for in both. I stumbled across a Dwarven stronghold, and had fallen very ill. A family took me in, and I befriended their son, Torm. He showed a talent for magic, and we set out; we quickly became popular, as we started doing a form of storytelling I have not seen elsewhere. Torm would illustrate the stories with magic illusions while I played the lute to accompany him. We would both sing. When we found ourselves at a destination, circumstances usually fell to allow us to help people. For ten years, we have traveled the lands, rescuing maidens from cults, ridding farmlands of kobolds and once even slaying a fiend who drank souls.</span></p><p><span style="color: Lime"></span></p><p><span style="color: Lime">The story turned dark a fortnight ago, when we were set upon by brigands, the likes of which I have never seen. There were at least twenty of them, perhaps more. I saw them kill Torm. My bow was not fast enough that day.</span></p><p><span style="color: Lime"></span></p><p><span style="color: Lime">This...</span> he traces the scar with his index finger from his chin to his hairline<span style="color: Lime"> ..is the only memory I have left of my friend. His body was nowhere to be found. I was lucky to find my armor and weapons, and this is the first place I managed to find. I honestly have no idea where 'this' is, even.</span></p><p></p><p>He puts his hand up against the sun, letting his hand's shadow spill over his face.</p><p></p><p><span style="color: Lime">But Phoebus is not unkind. I still live, and there are still those in need.</span></p><p></p><p>He absentmindedly runs his other hand over his lute on his chest. He lowers his hand, but still looks into the sun, squinting one eye as he walks.</p><p><span style="color: Lime"></span></p><p><span style="color: Lime">If I can pluck a string and lift a man out of sorrow, or remind him of love lost, have I not left the world a bit better than I found it?</span></p><p></p><p>He raises his hand back to the sun, seeming more now to be lost in thought, out-loud, than to be answering your query. He repeats the rhetorical question barely audibly to himself, <span style="color: Lime">Have I not?</span></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>Kilbeth's words snap him from his thought. <span style="color: Lime">Aye, Kilbeth. I suppose they probably say the same about us.</span> He chuckles slightly. <span style="color: Lime">Perhaps Phoebus will smile on us, and this Hoofchew business will align with your goals. Mayhaps we will find for that which you search. </span></p><p></p><p><span style="color: Lime">Either way, my bow is at your back, friend.</span></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p><span style="color: Lime">Aye, Merenwen, you speak wisely. Torm and I had used the spell on several occasions; but the cost was prohibitive. At least, that's what Torm always said. Still, when it was necessary for us to divide our fronts, it proved most useful.</span></p><p></p><p><span style="color: Lime">Are your foster parents well?</span> he asked, seeming genuine in his inquiry.</p><p></p><p>[sblock=OOC]timeout connections with the site after a day's worth of writing = timeout connection with the site after a day's worth of writing. le sigh.[/sblock]</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="balth, post: 4583243, member: 69401"] Balth straightens upright, and begins to walk with the others. [COLOR=Lime]I escaped the Imperium and my parent's plans for me to serve in the Senate to find adventure and friendship. I found more than I bargained for in both. I stumbled across a Dwarven stronghold, and had fallen very ill. A family took me in, and I befriended their son, Torm. He showed a talent for magic, and we set out; we quickly became popular, as we started doing a form of storytelling I have not seen elsewhere. Torm would illustrate the stories with magic illusions while I played the lute to accompany him. We would both sing. When we found ourselves at a destination, circumstances usually fell to allow us to help people. For ten years, we have traveled the lands, rescuing maidens from cults, ridding farmlands of kobolds and once even slaying a fiend who drank souls. The story turned dark a fortnight ago, when we were set upon by brigands, the likes of which I have never seen. There were at least twenty of them, perhaps more. I saw them kill Torm. My bow was not fast enough that day. This...[/COLOR] he traces the scar with his index finger from his chin to his hairline[COLOR=Lime] ..is the only memory I have left of my friend. His body was nowhere to be found. I was lucky to find my armor and weapons, and this is the first place I managed to find. I honestly have no idea where 'this' is, even.[/COLOR] He puts his hand up against the sun, letting his hand's shadow spill over his face. [COLOR=Lime]But Phoebus is not unkind. I still live, and there are still those in need.[/COLOR] He absentmindedly runs his other hand over his lute on his chest. He lowers his hand, but still looks into the sun, squinting one eye as he walks. [COLOR=Lime] If I can pluck a string and lift a man out of sorrow, or remind him of love lost, have I not left the world a bit better than I found it?[/COLOR] He raises his hand back to the sun, seeming more now to be lost in thought, out-loud, than to be answering your query. He repeats the rhetorical question barely audibly to himself, [COLOR=Lime]Have I not?[/COLOR] Kilbeth's words snap him from his thought. [COLOR=Lime]Aye, Kilbeth. I suppose they probably say the same about us.[/COLOR] He chuckles slightly. [COLOR=Lime]Perhaps Phoebus will smile on us, and this Hoofchew business will align with your goals. Mayhaps we will find for that which you search. [/COLOR] [COLOR=Lime]Either way, my bow is at your back, friend.[/COLOR] [COLOR=Lime]Aye, Merenwen, you speak wisely. Torm and I had used the spell on several occasions; but the cost was prohibitive. At least, that's what Torm always said. Still, when it was necessary for us to divide our fronts, it proved most useful.[/COLOR] [COLOR=Lime]Are your foster parents well?[/COLOR] he asked, seeming genuine in his inquiry. [sblock=OOC]timeout connections with the site after a day's worth of writing = timeout connection with the site after a day's worth of writing. le sigh.[/sblock] [/QUOTE]
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