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Story Hour
Three Hundred Years - updated 09.02.2003
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<blockquote data-quote="carpedavid" data-source="post: 877684" data-attributes="member: 6971"><p><strong>Interlude</strong></p><p></p><p>Oil and wick's child, lamplight, skips across sheets of parchment, splashing in puddles of shadow and scattering droplets of darkness over graphite-covered battle plans. General Talvyn of Arios, Commander of the Northern Armies, rubs his eyes and yawns; sleep was a comfort he had been able to enjoy little as of late. He stands and stretches, eliciting cracks and pops from his joints, and groans and creaks from his tendons. Red-hot bursts of pain shoot through his lower back, protesting the hours spent hunched over parchment covered tables, moving little wooden troops from one end to the other.</p><p></p><p>A movement at the flap of the tent distracts him, and he turns to see his favorite guard, a former salamander wrangler from Arial's Forge, enter the tent. "My Lord General" she begins, bowing deeply, "I present His Grace the Duke of Gryphalia."</p><p></p><p>"My Lord Duke," Talvyn says, dropping to one knee, as an elderly lizardman hobbles past the guard, supporting himself with a wooden cane.</p><p></p><p>"Get up," the lizardman says in a voice faded with age, "You know I hate it when you do that."</p><p></p><p>Talvyn smiles at his boyhood friend as he stands back up. "Of course, why do you think I insist on doing it?" he replies with a laugh.</p><p></p><p>The lizardman smiles back, "Care to offer me a chair? I am not as good as standing as I used to be."</p><p></p><p>"Oh, of course," Talvyn says, abashed, then tosses a fur over the back of an otherwise-uncomfortable wooden chair. He watches his friend unsteadily lower himself into the chair, and is struck with a wave of melancholy. Forty years ago, they played soldier in the courtyard of his father's estate, whacking each other with sticks, trying to emulate the motions that they saw the soldiers of Gryphalia practice on a daily basis.</p><p></p><p>Nature's cruel trick, though, was to make lizardmen age faster than humans, and while Talvyn's back ached when it rained too much, his friend was nearing the end of his life. He knew that, in less time than it would take to end this war, his friend would be strolling through verdant, celestial fields, basking in the warmth of Dominus' glorious light.</p><p></p><p>"How's the family, Qatsaketh?" he asks as he sits down across from his friend.</p><p></p><p>"Mirielle is quite well. She is still as spry as the day I met her. She has been quiet, lately. I think she knows how little time I have left."</p><p></p><p>"Yes, well, we can't all have the lifespan of elves, can we?" Talvyn says with a forced laugh. Qatsaketh's marriage to an elven chanteuse came as a surprise to nearly everyone who knew him, especially Talvyn and his family. The lizardman's family had held the Duchy of Gryphalia for hundreds of years, and Talvyn's family had led the Duke's armies for just as long. Qatsaketh's marriage to an elf meant that no heirs could be produced, and since he was the only child of an only child, any ties the families had would be forever severed.</p><p></p><p>The only thing that distressed Talvyn more was his eldest daughter's choice to enlist in the Duke's army instead of accepting the officer's commission that was her birthright. Quara's decision meant that his family's dynasty would end as well.</p><p></p><p>Qatseketh breaks Talvyn's reverie after a moment, "I have brought the bow, as you have asked. I hope this does not mean that you will be going back out into the field."</p><p></p><p>"No," he shakes his head sadly, "I've become too old for that sort of thing. It's to be a gift for Quara. She's proven herself, my friend. I just wish her path to doing so had been different."</p><p></p><p>The lizardman pats his friend on the shoulder, "We must all make our own choices in this life. It is too short to do otherwise." Talvyn gives a grudging smile, and continues, "I have another gift for your soldiers, assuming that they return. Dominus knows that I wouldn't want to be where they are right now."</p><p></p><p><em>It's been a while since I've updated - I blame that on the new d20 magic system I've been working on. However, I've finished the first draft of the new system, so I now have time to update. I've got a lot of ground to cover, so you should see fairly regular updates. Session 5 is coming soon...</em></p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="carpedavid, post: 877684, member: 6971"] [b]Interlude[/b] Oil and wick's child, lamplight, skips across sheets of parchment, splashing in puddles of shadow and scattering droplets of darkness over graphite-covered battle plans. General Talvyn of Arios, Commander of the Northern Armies, rubs his eyes and yawns; sleep was a comfort he had been able to enjoy little as of late. He stands and stretches, eliciting cracks and pops from his joints, and groans and creaks from his tendons. Red-hot bursts of pain shoot through his lower back, protesting the hours spent hunched over parchment covered tables, moving little wooden troops from one end to the other. A movement at the flap of the tent distracts him, and he turns to see his favorite guard, a former salamander wrangler from Arial's Forge, enter the tent. "My Lord General" she begins, bowing deeply, "I present His Grace the Duke of Gryphalia." "My Lord Duke," Talvyn says, dropping to one knee, as an elderly lizardman hobbles past the guard, supporting himself with a wooden cane. "Get up," the lizardman says in a voice faded with age, "You know I hate it when you do that." Talvyn smiles at his boyhood friend as he stands back up. "Of course, why do you think I insist on doing it?" he replies with a laugh. The lizardman smiles back, "Care to offer me a chair? I am not as good as standing as I used to be." "Oh, of course," Talvyn says, abashed, then tosses a fur over the back of an otherwise-uncomfortable wooden chair. He watches his friend unsteadily lower himself into the chair, and is struck with a wave of melancholy. Forty years ago, they played soldier in the courtyard of his father's estate, whacking each other with sticks, trying to emulate the motions that they saw the soldiers of Gryphalia practice on a daily basis. Nature's cruel trick, though, was to make lizardmen age faster than humans, and while Talvyn's back ached when it rained too much, his friend was nearing the end of his life. He knew that, in less time than it would take to end this war, his friend would be strolling through verdant, celestial fields, basking in the warmth of Dominus' glorious light. "How's the family, Qatsaketh?" he asks as he sits down across from his friend. "Mirielle is quite well. She is still as spry as the day I met her. She has been quiet, lately. I think she knows how little time I have left." "Yes, well, we can't all have the lifespan of elves, can we?" Talvyn says with a forced laugh. Qatsaketh's marriage to an elven chanteuse came as a surprise to nearly everyone who knew him, especially Talvyn and his family. The lizardman's family had held the Duchy of Gryphalia for hundreds of years, and Talvyn's family had led the Duke's armies for just as long. Qatsaketh's marriage to an elf meant that no heirs could be produced, and since he was the only child of an only child, any ties the families had would be forever severed. The only thing that distressed Talvyn more was his eldest daughter's choice to enlist in the Duke's army instead of accepting the officer's commission that was her birthright. Quara's decision meant that his family's dynasty would end as well. Qatseketh breaks Talvyn's reverie after a moment, "I have brought the bow, as you have asked. I hope this does not mean that you will be going back out into the field." "No," he shakes his head sadly, "I've become too old for that sort of thing. It's to be a gift for Quara. She's proven herself, my friend. I just wish her path to doing so had been different." The lizardman pats his friend on the shoulder, "We must all make our own choices in this life. It is too short to do otherwise." Talvyn gives a grudging smile, and continues, "I have another gift for your soldiers, assuming that they return. Dominus knows that I wouldn't want to be where they are right now." [i]It's been a while since I've updated - I blame that on the new d20 magic system I've been working on. However, I've finished the first draft of the new system, so I now have time to update. I've got a lot of ground to cover, so you should see fairly regular updates. Session 5 is coming soon...[/i] [/QUOTE]
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