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 Chapel of Refuge (Semi-Open) 
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Stablehand

Joined: Wed Oct 29, 2003 6:20 pm
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Post Chapel of Refuge (Semi-Open)
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The blood still seeped from the open slash on his forearm despite the makeshift
dressing applied hours earlier. His lungs burnt when he exhaled, the cool air of night could not
extinguish the fire. His head still spinning he felt violently sick, but little did it matter.


NO, I cannot feel sorry for myself if I want to stand any chance

His voice bounced off the stone walls and echoed around the entire chapel. He knew he had to be strong, being strong was the only thing that had kept him alive so far. The events of the day had bounced around his skull so much they had become blurred and muddled and maybe it was time to rest, the elder had told him as much.

Truth be told, he had not had slept properly since they had returned, the threat was always there in the back of your mind, when you least expected, they could be there. So, confronted by unfamiliar surroundings, in lands where he had never been before he was never going to rest.

What had he done differently? He asked himself. He had stuck to the designated route, the paths he had travelled so many times before, "The Safe Route" as Elvina had told him so many times was never to be strayed from. Wiping a tear from his cheek, he knew had done nothing different and feared he now may never see Elvina and the rest of his family ever again.

They had struck where he least expected, silent and deadly yet their rage unleashed was undeniable in its primative form. Demon was not his word of choice, it didn't get close. He had run until his legs gaveway, he was blessed with youth and it might just have saved him, although timely intervention had ultimately saved him from a gruesome death.

Now what? Could he possible exorcise the images he had taken in today? Would he ever make it back to the village again? What possible refuge could the Chapel provide?

Time would tell, he could do nothing now and somewhat comforted by the calmness of the elder, Xavi finally slept.

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Wed Oct 29, 2003 4:42 pm
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Stablehand
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Joined: Mon Nov 18, 2002 4:41 pm
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Location: The Chapel
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Zorban wasn’t surprised, reports of mutilated cattle had been more and more frequent. Unsettled, the archfiends had now stepped up their vile campaign. The youth had been lucky, the extent of his injuries minor compared to some.

It happened by chance, the elder was out picking herbs for one of his most complexed potions when the bloodcurdling screams could be heard from a distance away. Never before had they been this close, he had hoped the mountinous terrain and freezing temperatures would prevent such a threat. Obviously he was wrong.

How Xavi had survived the chase as long as he did was somewhat of a miracle. His physical wounds would heal, but what mental trauma he had been exposed too would take longer to become apperent. His world had been turned on its head, Zorban knew it was a huge risk for him to travel back to his village unaided, infact it would certain death.

What could the aged Magician provide for the youth? He had no answers, he could not magic away the plague of demons that had taken over his part of the Isle. All he possessed was scrolls, and knowledge.
He could sense the Youth’s anger, he feared he would have to harness such aggression in order to ever see his family again.

He checked on the youth one last time before leaving to finish his latest potion.

_________________
Be extremely subtle, even to the point of formlessness.
Thereby you can be the director of the opponent's fate

[glow=black]Sanctum Officium: Lost in the Fog[/glow]


Wed Oct 29, 2003 5:46 pm
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Stablehand

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His bloodstained shirt was now ripped from the sleeve upward after strengthening the perimeter fence sourrounding the Chapel. It wasn’t much, a handful of worn oaken fence posts bodged together with whatever he could find.

It was somewhat primative to what he was used to, a craftsman such as he was usually blessed with the equipment to carry out his work to the nearest detail, however now was not the time to dwell. Zorban had asked him to do a job, even if it kept one deranged soul away from the chapel it would have more than served its purpose.

Xavi knew the debt he owed the old man, not only had he saved his life and took him in he had gave him hope for the future, well whatever hope could be salavaged from such a situation was questionable. The vast library had provided sanctuary and a chance for him to extend his knowledge even though much of it was too advanced for his humble mind.

The days were short up near to the mountain-top, the sun carried little warmth so hard work was the main way to keep your mind away from the biting wind. Resting, after rebuilding the fence Xavi decided to search for his next task. A huge pile of the largest spell books lay redundant on the far side of the main study. Maybe they were left there because the Magician was now too frail to move them? He questioned himself and pondered whilst moving on to find to find the elder.


Say Magician, can I build a bookcase for those spell books?


He spoke quietly, trying not too startle Zorban, and patiently waited for a response.

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Survival is as good as it gets


Mon Nov 10, 2003 7:45 pm
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Stablehand
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Joined: Mon Nov 18, 2002 4:41 pm
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Location: The Chapel
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He raised his head slowly, the short days had taken their tole on his aged frame. Wrapped in a shawl and three cloaks too keep the chill wind at bay he turned away from his desk to face the youth.

Young Man, by all means construct a case to hold my books, they have been cluttering my Chapel for too long. However be careful, they are many years old, many years older than even I am. I would never be able to replace their content if anything happened to them.

He span around with a rye smile, the enthusiam in Xavis’ face was undeniable. Even in the short time he had been within the sacred walls his persona had changed, he was obviously strong, the vile memories had not scared him for long. For this he was forever greatful.

He watched Xavi bound off to find his tools and returned to his his desk. The latest scroll he had received from the sentries had shown more signs of brutal attrocities in the forest towards the foot of the mountain.
It was still far from safe for the youth to even contemplate a return journey. Sighing, he decided not to show the latest report to the Youth, it would only erase his enthusiam.

Yawning, and taking one last look from the nearside window over the horizon, he retreated to his quarters, throwing a log onto the open fire on his way.

_________________
Be extremely subtle, even to the point of formlessness.
Thereby you can be the director of the opponent's fate

[glow=black]Sanctum Officium: Lost in the Fog[/glow]


Mon Nov 10, 2003 8:27 pm
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Stablehand

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His hands were sore from the toil of work he had put into the bookcase. Resources were limited and his tools were crude to say the least but with the skills he had accumulated in the years spent in the village he had constructed something that would more than sufficiently contain the Magician’s sacred scrolls.

Taking a step back to admire his handywork, the youth gaveway to a small grin. He wanted to repay the Elder for his kindness in anyway he could, the kindness shown to him would never be forgotten. Now the scrolls had to be placed carefully on the shelves and with a delicate hand Xavi started to postion the scrolls in order. They were many years old, and what was contained within them a mystery to many.

Having carefully replaced all the scrolls, he ran outside to a clearing, took an aze and started to chop firewood from the trunk of a newly felled tree, he simply had to keep the cold Chapel warm, and help the aged Magician in to remain in good health.

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Survival is as good as it gets


Mon Nov 17, 2003 8:34 pm
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Stablehand
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Joined: Mon Nov 18, 2002 4:41 pm
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Location: The Chapel
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The north-easterly gale battered against the thin walls of the Chapel as he and and youth sought refuge from the biting cold. All of his teachings had been suspended, it was simply too cold for the children to make their way across the far side of the mountain.

He himself had been trying him best to keep busy, even though he was weaker than usual. Keeping busy was the only was to keep the cold at bay, him and the youth had carried out a number of demanding tasks. It was bleak to say the very least, and looked like carrying on for some time as storm cloud after storm cloud came rolling across the darkened sky dropping off their unholy load of white dust.

Xavi had worked incredibly hard on providing firewood, and there was enough for a fair few days as yet as he hastily slung another segment of trunk onto the flames. No sooner had he turned from placing the log when a furious knock on the Main door echoed thoughout the Chapel. Who would be out in these conditions he pondered as he moved towards the door.


Speak stranger! Or return back into the night from where you came!

Magician, Magician, The Giant has left the Isle on a makeshift barge, what shall we do?

Sighing, he flicked the latch on then door, and walked to his desk to hear the full story behind the Giants’ latest dissapearance.

_________________
Be extremely subtle, even to the point of formlessness.
Thereby you can be the director of the opponent's fate

[glow=black]Sanctum Officium: Lost in the Fog[/glow]


Sun Nov 30, 2003 5:44 pm
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Stablehand
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Joined: Mon Nov 18, 2002 4:41 pm
Posts: 11
Location: The Chapel
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With the Giant gone, with little trace times look bleak for the residents of the Chapel. The Magician had taken the news of his disappearance with the normal air of calmness associated with him, but yet inside he was fuming,

What was he thinking? He has responsibilities and people depending upon him, yet he leaves with no word leaving me to rectify the harm he has done!

He was angry, and the recent bleak conditions had not helped to calm him any. It had been days since him and the youth had seen proper daylight, confined to the proximity of the Chapel, and with little prospect of changes for the foreseeable future maybe it was time to accept that there was little he himself could do about the errant Giant. Busying himself with his potions and spells helped, he had to do something to take his mind of the bitter cold.

Xavi had helped him greatly, and without his assistance the elder would have done well to just survive the harsh winter months, the Youth had adjusted well and very so keen to repay his debt, however there was no debt.

There had been little signs of demonic activity recently; the sentries had reported nothing besides the occasional looting of the coffers. Zorban was reassured at this, and sure that conditions had forced them underground, to plot and scheme some more foul deeds.


Who then, is looking after the Mist?

His voice echoed around the empty Chapel.

There has been no sign of Salisk….. and….. the Giant has vanished.

He stuttered nervously, who had been left in charge of matters? For whoever it was had not made the effort to contact him. This was most unusual, and somewhat troubling. He sat at his desk with head bowed; he did not need such tribulations at his age.

_________________
Be extremely subtle, even to the point of formlessness.
Thereby you can be the director of the opponent's fate

[glow=black]Sanctum Officium: Lost in the Fog[/glow]


Thu Dec 11, 2003 12:02 pm
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Stablehand

Joined: Wed Oct 29, 2003 6:20 pm
Posts: 7
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He could see the anguish riddled into the face of the Magician, even if he wouldn’t admit it himself he cared deeply about the Giant and what was occurring at down at the Mist. He had tried to keep himself busy, and leave the aged Magician to his own business but it was clear he was troubled.

What could he do to help the elder? There was no way of finding the Giant; especially considering the severe winter the mountain was experiencing. Sentries occasionally passed the chapel but they rarely did they provide much relevant information. The days and nights had merged into one, there was very little daylight and it was nothing more than a bleak existence.

The Magician couldn’t carry on like this; every day that passed seemed to drag him down that little bit further. He wanted to repay the debt he owed for taking him in; whatever it took he would try everything within his power to help him.


I will gather my things and leave for the Mist immediately..

He had already prepared a huge pile of firewood; this would be more than sufficient to see the Elder through the time he was going to be away. He planned to sneak out in the dead of night and arrive at the Mist by morn.

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Survival is as good as it gets


Sun Dec 14, 2003 8:28 am
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Stablehand

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Xavi was in no rush as the north wind blew hard into face as he started his descent down the Mountain. The extended period of rest had made him much stronger and ready for such a testing journey although he wasn’t going to as a naïve as to expect a totally incident free passage into the scared lands of the Mist.

Dense woodland and a handful of scattered paths and tracks made the youth unsure of the way and he had overheard Zorban stating that Mist could prove to be a most deceptive place to locate due to the fog that protected it from unwanted visitors, and the many ways in and out of the township itself. He could do little but to chose a track and follow it all the way down and see where that took him.

In the back of his mind was the constant threat from those of an evil persuasion; they had attacked him once before what would prevent them from doing it again? He moved silently in between the trees and with slight of foot gathered good pace down the icy peak.

An Owl tooted in the dusky sky above, at first he jumped back startled, then smiled to himself as he realized the simple owl meant no harm and perhaps it was guiding his safe passage. Searching for breath, he decided it was time for a short rest and placed himself against the trunk of a huge Oak tree and shut his eyes for a brief second.

Maybe he was taking a risk, he was still unsure of his route and was by no means safe situated where we was. He needed to know the route ahead, to see something that means he was on the right track so he slowly started to mount the huge Oak tree, climbing from branch to branch in order to gain a better viewpoint.


The Lake! I can see the lake! For once I am there I am safe from any harm and within throwing distance of the Mist.

The shimmering reflection of the water had caught his eye. The mystical lake was still there even if little was spoke of its legend nowadays. The youth bounded his way towards the waters edge, his journey was so nearly over.

_________________
Survival is as good as it gets


Sat Jan 10, 2004 6:51 am
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Stablehand

Joined: Wed Oct 29, 2003 6:20 pm
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He approached the lady quietly as he didn’t wish to startle her and seemed quite involved in selecting a variety of orchids from the fertile soil surrounding the lake.

Excuse Me! I am in search of the leader of the Mist, it is most important I talk with him regarding the health of Zorban.

Her face immediately gave way to a smile.

The aged Magician is still looking down on us all then? Pass on my regards. Colgan is currently in charge of events at the Mist, You need to take the western path and that will take you straight to the marketplace where the Architect’s will inform you of his exact whereabouts. One word of advice though, you want to consider your attire, it appears your current threads have seen better days.

Xavi left her to her devices, her voice was so calm and reassuring, and of course she was right he still sported the same blood stained cloth as the day he was attacked. Where could he possibly find new clothes at such a time? There was no way he would insult the new leader by presenting himself in such a state.

There was only one place to go and that was follow the path into the marketplace and pray that a trader would have means necessary to equip him with a new outfit. He had no gold pennies to his name but was certainly prepared to work off any debt accrued. With an expression of sheer determination, he paused for a quick look back at the beauty of the lake and made his way across to the path. He had come this far; such a small dilemma would not prevent him from completing the task at hand.

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Survival is as good as it gets


Wed Jan 14, 2004 3:09 pm
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Regarded as many as being a cantankerous fool but he had long since cared what people thought of him. If they had to stand out for hours in all weather trying to sell whatever they could get their hands on for a few moody pennies then surely their attitude would come into question frequently.

He ran a long finger through his slick black hair and pondered. And old friend had informed him that he could do good business here, and although he couldn’t complain there just wasn’t enough action for him. He liked to keep moving, keep the deals flowing on a regularly basis, it was all a bit dull from what he was used to.

Still his stall was filled with goods ranging from tankards to weaponry. A huge Sword was the centrepiece, but with the Mist being such a peace-loving township there was little need for it, especially at a cost of 200 gold pieces. He was regarded at the best around, what he couldn’t get his grubby hands on, wasn’t worth having.

Being shunted round from Inn to Inn did nothing for his well being, but it gave him ideal opportunities to con drunkards out of theirs possessions, everyone needs funds for another ale, especially at that time of night.

Even he couldn’t remember where some of his items had come from, an ale fuelled night a few moons ago had resulted in him returning home with seventy robes of finest cloth, he wasn’t going to argue but yet he had yet to sell one and carrying them around was beginning to try his patience.

But yet, what was this now. A blood stained Youth looking lost stood alone across the market, what better opportunity for a deal.


Come here my Boy for you look lost and in need of a friend!

He let his locks fall down and smirked at the possibility of another guaranteed profit.

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Wed Jan 14, 2004 4:06 pm
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Stablehand

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For now he was alone and with ample time he could reflect upon what had occurred in recent times. The journey he had undertaken had exhausted him greatly but now he could rest safe in the knowledge that the Giant had returned to resume control at the Mist and aged magician had been informed of this. Now what for the youth? It was still far too dangerous for him to attempt to return back to his village.

The locals from Redanga had been more than helpful in providing him with short-term solutions to his accommodation problems, but he could and would not take advantage of their better nature it was now time for him to find his own premises and there was only one location that immediately sprung to mind.

The mysterious beauty of the Lake had taken him aback ever since he made his trek down from the Chapel. The banks of lake were sparsely populated and backed onto dense forest. A lodge constructed mainly of logs would prove easy enough to assemble and provide a perfect location for him to while away his days. The Chapel itself was in relative proximity, and it was only a short walk into the centre of the Mist, it really couldn’t any better.

Now he required tools in order to construct his new home and with a hop he moved out onto the path and bounded his way towards the market square where he knew someone would be able to assist him in his quest for a new home.

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Survival is as good as it gets


Sun Mar 07, 2004 12:48 pm
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