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Against the Shadows VII - A Faded Glory Story Hour (Re-Updated - 5/17)
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<blockquote data-quote="Old One" data-source="post: 2385780" data-attributes="member: 83"><p><strong>Session 27 (Part Two)</strong></p><p></p><p>This is one of those "Pull the Curtain Back" posts (as is the one to follow). Something the PCs where never privy to.</p><p></p><p><strong><em><span style="color: burlywood"><span style="font-size: 15px">The Green, Green Fog of Home – Interlude I</span></span></em></strong><em><span style="color: burlywood"></span></em></p><p><em><span style="color: burlywood"></span></em></p><p><em><span style="color: burlywood">Ages?</span></em></p><p><em><span style="color: burlywood"></span></em></p><p><em><span style="color: burlywood">How long had it been? He was tired…tired to his core…tired beyond his core. How long had this been going on…the ebb and flow of the monstrous tide? The tide was low now…naught but tidal pools and eddies…but he sensed waves building…just beyond the horizon…many waves…waves that would strike soon…and hard. How much more did he have in him? Even if the body agreed, would his spirit continue?</span></em></p><p><em><span style="color: burlywood"></span></em></p><p><em><span style="color: burlywood">Whispered words caressed his ears. He cocked his head and listened, as a small dog might in response to a curious sound. He sighed heavily and rose from the small divan beside the reflecting pool. Sensing their master’s movement, the finely made, enchanted silver songbirds that graced the golden branches of the trees overhanging the water stilled their low, melodic voices.</span></em></p><p><em><span style="color: burlywood"></span></em></p><p><em><span style="color: burlywood">His tiny bare feet passed over polished marble with nary a sound, carrying his child-like form with effortless grace. He entered the chamber with the crystalline roof and sat in a chair of exquisite, fluted glass with practiced ease. He leaned back, face upwards, peering through the translucent ceiling into the cloudless night. Unblemished, his face was a mask of undefined and indefinable youth. Only the eyes…deep pools of unfathomable wisdom, hope and sorrow…bespoke anything greater than the innocence of a child.</span></em></p><p><em><span style="color: burlywood"></span></em></p><p><em><span style="color: burlywood">His breath and heartbeat slowed as his mind quickened. Soon, both were at opposite ends of an impossible spectrum…his chest rose and fell but once every five turns of the minute-glass while his mind whirled with impossible speed, rapidly sorting, analyzing and discarding portents, plans and possibilities. On the very edge of his consciousness, hidden behind a faint star and a whisper beyond realization, crouched a hungry shadow, waiting.</span></em></p><p></p><p><strong><em>To Be Continued…</em></strong></p><p></p><p><strong>Next: The Green, Green Grass of Home – Interlude II</strong></p><p></p><p>~ OO</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Old One, post: 2385780, member: 83"] [b]Session 27 (Part Two)[/b] This is one of those "Pull the Curtain Back" posts (as is the one to follow). Something the PCs where never privy to. [b][I][color=burlywood][size=4]The Green, Green Fog of Home – Interlude I[/size][/color][/I][/b][I][color=burlywood][size=4][/size] Ages? How long had it been? He was tired…tired to his core…tired beyond his core. How long had this been going on…the ebb and flow of the monstrous tide? The tide was low now…naught but tidal pools and eddies…but he sensed waves building…just beyond the horizon…many waves…waves that would strike soon…and hard. How much more did he have in him? Even if the body agreed, would his spirit continue? Whispered words caressed his ears. He cocked his head and listened, as a small dog might in response to a curious sound. He sighed heavily and rose from the small divan beside the reflecting pool. Sensing their master’s movement, the finely made, enchanted silver songbirds that graced the golden branches of the trees overhanging the water stilled their low, melodic voices. His tiny bare feet passed over polished marble with nary a sound, carrying his child-like form with effortless grace. He entered the chamber with the crystalline roof and sat in a chair of exquisite, fluted glass with practiced ease. He leaned back, face upwards, peering through the translucent ceiling into the cloudless night. Unblemished, his face was a mask of undefined and indefinable youth. Only the eyes…deep pools of unfathomable wisdom, hope and sorrow…bespoke anything greater than the innocence of a child. His breath and heartbeat slowed as his mind quickened. Soon, both were at opposite ends of an impossible spectrum…his chest rose and fell but once every five turns of the minute-glass while his mind whirled with impossible speed, rapidly sorting, analyzing and discarding portents, plans and possibilities. On the very edge of his consciousness, hidden behind a faint star and a whisper beyond realization, crouched a hungry shadow, waiting.[/color][/I] [b][I]To Be Continued…[/I][/b][I][/I] [b]Next: The Green, Green Grass of Home – Interlude II[/b] ~ OO [/QUOTE]
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Against the Shadows VII - A Faded Glory Story Hour (Re-Updated - 5/17)
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