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seasong's Light Against The Dark (FEB 06)
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<blockquote data-quote="seasong" data-source="post: 610973" data-attributes="member: 5137"><p><span style="color: orange"><strong>Intermission: Merideth</strong></span></p><p></p><p>Merideth, Scion of Allas. War Hero. Slayer of Darkness. Bane of Spiders.</p><p></p><p>She tried all of them out in her head, trying to make her shoulders high enough and broad enough to carry such lofty-sounding titles. She envisioned herself, leaping from precipice to rocky precipice, inflicting weal and woe upon hordes of orcs and spiders and whatever else she could fancy. In her head, Merideth always had the potential to be any kind of hero.</p><p></p><p><em>Useless noncombatant. Orc slave. Serving girl.</em></p><p></p><p>Merideth could already see her home, an attractively designed, quaint little domicile of brick and marble that her family didn't own. Servant's quarters, made as attractive as possible, then tucked away from sight by the main road, shadowed by the modest manse and tower it was an accessory for.</p><p></p><p><em>Kyriotes</em>. Bile rose momentarily, as did hot tears that were ruthlessly suppressed. The old wizard's family lived here, and he occasionally visited them. The tower was his old one, now partially a storage bin, partially a home away from home for him, when he wasn't out on some grand adventure or holed up in the Theralis library.</p><p></p><p>She'd been enchanted by him when she was a child. He would do magic tricks for all of the children in the household, servants included, and he was a fascinating storyteller who loved to tell of places he'd been and things he'd done. When he was around, most of the children wanted to grow up to be arcanists, although Merideth was the only one who maintained that desire between trips... except...</p><p></p><p>When she'd boldly asked him to apprentice her at age eleven, he'd taken her seriously for half an hour. During that period, he'd tested her on memory, puzzles, and strange pictures. She'd been so <em>excited</em> about being tested, and then he told her that he wouldn't teach her.</p><p></p><p>"Child, there is nothing wrong with you, and you are reasonably intelligent, but to be an arcanist requires something beyond reasonable. It is a rare gift, one which most people don't have. If you are set on magic, you should set your sights lower.. you might make an excellent healer, for example."</p><p></p><p>"But I want to be an adventurer!"</p><p></p><p>The old wizard had looked startled at that, then eased his face into kindly lines, "Well, healers can be adventurers, too. Why, what if I were deep in the Old Forests, and injured beyond recovery? What would I do?"</p><p></p><p>"You'd teleport!" She was smart enough to guess that, she figured.</p><p></p><p>"Well, yes, but not if I was exhausted. I might need a healer, then."</p><p></p><p>"Not you!"</p><p></p><p>He'd chuckled, and forgotten about it. Merideth had not. When she applied for apprenticing to Aionas the mindworker a year later, he'd likely not even connected the two events.</p><p></p><p>But he'd filled her head with dreams, and been kind to her in a house where servants were invisible, at least while she was still a child and full of cuteness. Then he'd grown distant, and...</p><p></p><p>...completely passed her by, not even a hint of recognition, during the war council. She suppressed another wave of bile and tears, and began walking down the path to home.</p><p></p><p>Her family, a close knit bunch, greeted her at the door with expressions of surprise and happiness, and Merideth was very nearly hugged into unconsciousness. For a while, things were good.</p><p></p><p>But two years had weighed heavily on her mother's face and around her father's eyes, and their sloped shoulders, once so normal to Merideth, now seemed pitiful and weak after a year with wealth-born Greppa and golden Athan.</p><p></p><p>Still, she told them where she'd been, and even managed (as she always did in her head) to make the time enslaved seem like a small step on the path to heroism and adventure. She glossed a few things - Southbottom folk care little for the soft north valleys, for example - but overall she managed to convey the scope of her journey.</p><p></p><p>And then it was the wee hours of the night, and she went to bed. When she awoke, it was like she hadn't left. She wore ordinary clothing, helped her family out with the house chores (she refused to work in the big house, however), watched over the new baby...</p><p></p><p>Before she knew it, a week had passed, and nothing had changed. And every night, her parents came in too tired to do much other than eat a meal, and go to bed. And they would have been more tired, except that Merideth was there to shoulder some of the work.</p><p></p><p>Only she wasn't going to be.</p><p></p><p>That afternoon, Merideth put manic effort into all of the chores. She finished cleaning dishes and clothing, swept out every floor, aired out the house and let sunlight in, made sheets, pasted chipped dishes, and organized as much as she knew how to. Then (she'd counted carefully, but it was still hard), she left a year's salary in her mother's pouch, part of the group's spoils from the lost temple, made dinner and left it on the table..</p><p></p><p>And slipped out before anyone got home.</p><p></p><p>On the road north, the tears she'd ruthlessly suppressed burst out of her like a dam. She felt lower than low, but what could she do? She couldn't stay. She couldn't tell them she hated their lives.</p><p></p><p>Days later, when she'd arrived at Greppa's tower, she'd managed to achieve what she felt was the perfect look of tranquil wisdom and acceptance of her burdens. To Athan and Greppa, she just looked stoop-shouldered and sad, but she didn't offer explanation, and they didn't ask.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="seasong, post: 610973, member: 5137"] [color=orange][b]Intermission: Merideth[/b][/color] Merideth, Scion of Allas. War Hero. Slayer of Darkness. Bane of Spiders. She tried all of them out in her head, trying to make her shoulders high enough and broad enough to carry such lofty-sounding titles. She envisioned herself, leaping from precipice to rocky precipice, inflicting weal and woe upon hordes of orcs and spiders and whatever else she could fancy. In her head, Merideth always had the potential to be any kind of hero. [i]Useless noncombatant. Orc slave. Serving girl.[/i] Merideth could already see her home, an attractively designed, quaint little domicile of brick and marble that her family didn't own. Servant's quarters, made as attractive as possible, then tucked away from sight by the main road, shadowed by the modest manse and tower it was an accessory for. [i]Kyriotes[/i]. Bile rose momentarily, as did hot tears that were ruthlessly suppressed. The old wizard's family lived here, and he occasionally visited them. The tower was his old one, now partially a storage bin, partially a home away from home for him, when he wasn't out on some grand adventure or holed up in the Theralis library. She'd been enchanted by him when she was a child. He would do magic tricks for all of the children in the household, servants included, and he was a fascinating storyteller who loved to tell of places he'd been and things he'd done. When he was around, most of the children wanted to grow up to be arcanists, although Merideth was the only one who maintained that desire between trips... except... When she'd boldly asked him to apprentice her at age eleven, he'd taken her seriously for half an hour. During that period, he'd tested her on memory, puzzles, and strange pictures. She'd been so [i]excited[/i] about being tested, and then he told her that he wouldn't teach her. "Child, there is nothing wrong with you, and you are reasonably intelligent, but to be an arcanist requires something beyond reasonable. It is a rare gift, one which most people don't have. If you are set on magic, you should set your sights lower.. you might make an excellent healer, for example." "But I want to be an adventurer!" The old wizard had looked startled at that, then eased his face into kindly lines, "Well, healers can be adventurers, too. Why, what if I were deep in the Old Forests, and injured beyond recovery? What would I do?" "You'd teleport!" She was smart enough to guess that, she figured. "Well, yes, but not if I was exhausted. I might need a healer, then." "Not you!" He'd chuckled, and forgotten about it. Merideth had not. When she applied for apprenticing to Aionas the mindworker a year later, he'd likely not even connected the two events. But he'd filled her head with dreams, and been kind to her in a house where servants were invisible, at least while she was still a child and full of cuteness. Then he'd grown distant, and... ...completely passed her by, not even a hint of recognition, during the war council. She suppressed another wave of bile and tears, and began walking down the path to home. Her family, a close knit bunch, greeted her at the door with expressions of surprise and happiness, and Merideth was very nearly hugged into unconsciousness. For a while, things were good. But two years had weighed heavily on her mother's face and around her father's eyes, and their sloped shoulders, once so normal to Merideth, now seemed pitiful and weak after a year with wealth-born Greppa and golden Athan. Still, she told them where she'd been, and even managed (as she always did in her head) to make the time enslaved seem like a small step on the path to heroism and adventure. She glossed a few things - Southbottom folk care little for the soft north valleys, for example - but overall she managed to convey the scope of her journey. And then it was the wee hours of the night, and she went to bed. When she awoke, it was like she hadn't left. She wore ordinary clothing, helped her family out with the house chores (she refused to work in the big house, however), watched over the new baby... Before she knew it, a week had passed, and nothing had changed. And every night, her parents came in too tired to do much other than eat a meal, and go to bed. And they would have been more tired, except that Merideth was there to shoulder some of the work. Only she wasn't going to be. That afternoon, Merideth put manic effort into all of the chores. She finished cleaning dishes and clothing, swept out every floor, aired out the house and let sunlight in, made sheets, pasted chipped dishes, and organized as much as she knew how to. Then (she'd counted carefully, but it was still hard), she left a year's salary in her mother's pouch, part of the group's spoils from the lost temple, made dinner and left it on the table.. And slipped out before anyone got home. On the road north, the tears she'd ruthlessly suppressed burst out of her like a dam. She felt lower than low, but what could she do? She couldn't stay. She couldn't tell them she hated their lives. Days later, when she'd arrived at Greppa's tower, she'd managed to achieve what she felt was the perfect look of tranquil wisdom and acceptance of her burdens. To Athan and Greppa, she just looked stoop-shouldered and sad, but she didn't offer explanation, and they didn't ask. [/QUOTE]
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