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Message: <blockquote data-quote="GWolf" data-source="post: 845393" data-attributes="member: 3373">Its a bit strange, and my first writing in a long time, hope it isn't too bad....***************************Rusty pulled the damp hood of brown cloak off the top of his head exposing his neatly cut dark-brown hair. I’ve made it back…finally… He sipped on his offered drink, thinking quietly to himself, It’s been how many…ten years? .  Looking around the room Rusty spotted the usually mix of farmers, drunks, and mercenaries. Well, they may have been mercenaries, or the town guard or militia, Rusty couldn’t be sure, they may have even been thugs. Eyeing them up, he spotted 4-foot long swords on each of their persons as well as a layer of chain mail hidden beneath their vests. “Another Ale” Rusty said laying down some money. The barkeep quickly filled his mug and continued working. Swords, I remember when I thought those were powerful, almost so as magic…. that was a long time ago… Chugging down half his glass, Rusty took some time to listen in on some farmer’s conversation next to him.“Yew, been a really probably lately Ben, damn kobolds eating all ma damn apples, they come at….” Rusty sighed, Monsters, those were scary once… the only monsters I dealt with for the last two years were men in gray uniforms… Putting his hand on his chin, Rusty continued to think. I don’t fit in here anymore, did I ever? After being there, I may never fit in anywhere….“By the gods, is that Rusty Wilon?” A slightly large man in his late 20’s said slapping Rusty on the back and sitting on the stool next to him.Rusty smiled at his old friend Paul, always the loud and friendly type. “Paul! How you been?” It had been 10 long years since Rusty left the island, and 10 years since he’d seen anyone he knew, it was a miracle, after all that happened, that he made it back, alive.“I’ve been fine, I opened a carpentry business, making quite a profit.”  Paul said taking another slug of his brew, “Damn, I haven’t seen you since I helped you stow away on that ship to the mainland so you could become an apprentice mage.” Paul scratched his head, “Did that ever work out?” If only I could explain… Rusty looked at the floor for a moment in deep thought, Maybe I should tell him… “No, it didn’t,” Rusty dropped his voice to a whisper, and leaned in towards Paul. “The mage who took me in was a psychotic. During some strange spell he was casting, he killed himself, and sent me…I know it sounds crazy…. to another world.”Paul placed his glass the counter carefully and rubbed his chin, in thought. “Continue, please.” Rusty couldn’t tell if his friend believed him or not, but he knew he was amazed. Raising his voice a little, Rusty continued “Well, this world, was large, very large, I only saw a small piece of it myself, a desert region known as North Africa . He paused for a moment remembering the sand, and the hot sun. “There were no monsters, or magic. Men who looked just like you and me, who spoke a language similar to Common, known as English, found me in the middle of the desert. They asked me who I was and were I was from, they never heard of this place. They handed me a metal pipe with a handle, and told me I was to help them fight the Germans and Italians .” Rusty took a slug and finished off his winter, bitter tasting ale. He looked, around, and saw that about half the people in the pub were looking and listening to him. He gulped, and began to sweat. This was a mistake…I never should’ve come back here…“And, a lot of stuff happened…. and I made it back here by a freak miracle…” Rusty said pulling up his hood and heading for the door, at a rapidly increasing pace. They’d never understand, the guns, tanks, planes any of it…hell I barely do . He burst out the door, and into the cold and frosty stone streets of the town. “Hey! You in the brown cloak!”  Someone behind him called in a menacing voice.Rusty turned, and gulped behind him were the trio of ‘mercenaries’ from the pub, long swords drawn. Rusty realized it now…they looked familiar… It couldn’t be…how could they have traced me back here… “So it looks like the old man’s spell worked…do you have it?” The leader of the group asked. He was a big man, with long black hair, and wicked scar running down his left eye. They must mean the scroll…I don’t have it…this could be bad . “I’m sorry, I don’t have it, why don’t you leave me and go back to your ale.” Rusty said fingering something in his cloak.“Liar!” The leader shouted and started running towards Rusty.Rusty’s cloak was gone in a second, thrown aside, in his hands, a short, metal and wood weapon… Phsst!  Boom!  Clack!The man fell to the ground, three nearly half-inch holes in his torso, spilling blood onto the icy streets…his sword spun, and fell beside him. His cronies gulped, turn and ran. Rusty slung the weapon back over his shoulder, put on his brown, damp, and dirty cloak, and continued down the street…</blockquote>

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