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 Ackart's Inn IV (Open with Conditions) 
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Joined: Mon Sep 15, 2003 6:48 pm
Posts: 17
Location: Isle of Maxim
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Despite a crowd even at this time of the morning, it was not so long before Dorian was offered service.

You are indeed an angel, he replied immediately smiling at the young woman with real enthusiasm. I am not fussy my dear, I will have a large plate of whatever you are serving hot this morn. And if you please, a vessel of whatever good red vintage you have to offer…

Feeling he had struck gold in the manner of quality taverns, he glanced around for a table. A group of soldiers and other men-at-arms, also a man and woman seated together and perhaps those were some other locals also contentedly eating. These young women serving looked busy at even this early hour. But Dorian yet spotted a small table to sit at. Not soon enough though as a serious young lass rushed almost straight through him in a bid to leave without so much as an 'excuse me'…

No matter though, Dorian thought, as he readjusted his balance, for his mind was most decidedly on the breakfast to come. He then moved directly to the small table and sitting down on a real chair since his journey on horseback he adjusted his sword comfortably. Leaning back and stretching his legs out under the table he could not withhold a most audible sigh of satisfaction.

Dorian's idyllic rural moment was suddenly ruined by the raucous shouting of one of the previous tavern guests who had left but a moment before. This was most definitely not part of the plan. He attempted to close his eyes and ignore it. What business did he have in the affairs of these people. Had he not left the drama behind him?! Dorian Gray's eyes flicked open again in irritation. And damn it, he thought, where was the wine!


Thu Feb 26, 2004 3:40 am
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Relnak continued eating, even as the man sat down once more. The truth was, his hunger was still very much on the sharp side even after eating most of his serving already. He wished that he could afford another helping, but he needed to conserve what coin he had; another meal later and some kind of lodging for the night would also have to be paid for.

He let the man’s torrent of words wash over him as he savoured the last of his meal, still wondering how this man, this escaped slave, was walking around freely and apparently unafraid of admitting his origins. He himself could never have seen past being constantly on the run, always fleeing that which he could never escape – the tattoos that were adorning his hands and head. But this man wore them openly!

He started suddenly from his wonderings as the impact of something the man had said broke through. Was he really offering to bring him along with them, as part of their band or at least under their protection? Why would they do such a thing, and what would happen if they ever found out he was an escaped slave?

The man rushed off at someone’s words coming from behind them, beside the other table. Relnak didn’t quite catch what was said but there seemed to be some kind of rushing and bustling near the entrance; he didn’t look around, he was still sitting motionless at the table, his almost-finished meal sitting unheeded in front of him.

Heh…I don’t know where I’m going, so their destination means little to me; one place is as good as any other, so long as it’s not back in the direction I’ve been coming from. And it mustn’t be; I haven’t passed through any town recently, and certainly the name Freyja doesn’t ring a bell.
But can I risk joining this party of soldiers? They seem to be a decent group, but how can I really know their intentions? Certainly, if I do, I must keep my identity secret at all costs.


Unconsciously he retreated deeper beneath his hood, and pulled his arms further up his sleeves.

Even if another escaped slave rides with them, I can’t afford to trust them. All the same though, the company would be a welcome change aswell as giving me some added safety on the road. And who knows, maybe even a warm fire and a hot meal at night! What could they want in return though?
No matter. I’ll find out eventually and for now it’s worth the risk. When he comes back, I’ll accept; that is, if he hasn’t actually left permanently.


He again became aware of the all-too-small amount of food left on his plate. Almost drooling in anticipation, he took the remainder of the bread and soaked it up, savouring every last drop of the stew. What he would do for more of it!

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Is harsh freedom any better than comfortable captivity?


Thu Feb 26, 2004 3:01 pm
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Joined: Thu Jul 17, 2003 2:41 am
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As Dorian made his way inside, the Shade nudged his charge closer to the door saying to her, "Look on the bright side, perhaps he'll come home with you this time." All this comment got from Alcestis was a sharp elbow back against his ribs that only made the Shade chuckle against her ear. "I've no need nor reason to take him home, thank you," came Alcestis' reply.

"Oh but you do, you may not realize it yet, but you do," he said, and as the doors opened once again allowing a hurried woman to rush out into the morning sun and down the street, the Shade got a whiff of someone's anxiety, and mortal hunger inside the place.

With a few calming words of instruction, the Shade put his hand to Alcestis' back and gave her a gentle push, moving her from the Shadowlands into the bright light of day. The stark brightness of the sunlight made Alcestis wince and squint her eyes at first. She looked over her shoulder for him, and saw exactly what she knew she would...nothing.

Turning around she watched the woman hurry down the street, then with a shrug of her shoulders, Alcestis walked inside, relieved at once for the shelter from the harsh light of morning. She knew, as always, the Shade followed her closely.

Her eyes panned over the room quickly as one hand smoothed down the long skirt of her dark blue dress then pulled her light cloak loosely over her bare shoulders. Her eyes found Dorian at once, but didn't linger on him long enough for his own gaze to switch and meet her's.

She picked out an empty table a few seats away from Dorian, she hoped her guardian wouldn't make her own shadow caper as she walked and force attention upon her. Thankfully, her shadow stayed firmly in its place on the floor as she made her way through the room and sat down at the table, choosing the seat that would put her profile to Dorian rather than fully facing him or having her back to him. It simply wouldn't do to walk right up to the man and ask to sit with him, what if he didn't even remember her at all? She'd rather save herself that small embarrassment and let him notice her first, and if he did not, then she would have a good breakfast and go home like everyone else.

The Shade meanwhile, made a smooth transition from the abyss, melding himself into a cluster of shadows thrown by the tables and chairs. One with the sight to see would merely have a noticed a slight shift of light and shadow, much like one might see something from the corner of one's eye, then to look and it was gone. His concentration was on his charge, and on reading the man she knew as Dorian as best he could.

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"Experience teaches us that Silence terrifies people the most." --Bob Dylan.


Fri Feb 27, 2004 5:12 am
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Joined: Mon Sep 15, 2003 6:48 pm
Posts: 17
Location: Isle of Maxim
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The man who called himself Dorian was not a defeatist by any means. No, not some miserable wretch laid low by the woes of the world, humbled by Age upon Age of futile war nor weeping lost love or fallen comrade. For whenever there was one who had fallen low in the world, whom fortune had turned away from or who was teetering on the very edge of hopelessness, there was often someone else close by who had ripped these very riches from them. And although it may be argued that such wickedness was an abhorrent quality in any being, Dorian had found certain undeniable advantages from favorable association with them. Dangerous at times, yes. But not nearly as dangerous as being on the wrong, that is, losing side. Such smug philosophy and reminiscence passed through his mind as he watched the growing concerns of the small town folk around him. And although his food and drink did not seem more quickly forthcoming, he was still damnably determined not to participate in anything remotely challenging this day. Stretching his arms above his head, his fine white shirt pulling tight against a toned torso, he leant back closing his eyes again, and murmuring quietly to himself he announced,

No, nothing...nothing at all shall bother me today.

His arms now down on the table again, strong hands clasped together in front of him, he peered around waiting for his breakfast.

Oh my...

Dorian Gray did not forget a face. Especially not a beautiful face. And certainly not a face he had not yet had the pleasure of knowing better. He had only caught a glance but enough to know who was sitting merely a few tables away. Whatever was she doing here? A shadow of seriousness suddenly passed through him, had he offended her at their previous meeting? After all, he had left suddenly...

It was not like he wanted to of course, and how was Dorian to know that mage would be there. For sure it was a magick convention, but the grumpy old fart lived on the other side of the desert. So what, he had had some 'relations' with the mage's daughter, but it wasn't as if she had even told him she was betrothed to the neighbouring monarch's son. Dorian had been lucky to escape with his life along with other parts of himself at the time. If there was one thing he had learned early on, there was no worse company than an angry mage. And then to see the old bastard slap eyes on him whilst in the very middle of intelligent conversation with a stunning stranger, what else could he do but leap off his seat, mumble an incoherent farewell and disappear into the streets of the desert City. Indeed he would not even be alive to experience the Lady Thrain's displeasure at his former rudeness, had he not even made this discourteous departure. Smiling at the irony, all thoughts of a simple breakfast amid quaint townsfolk dispelled in an instant. At the very least, Dorian easily reasoned, he should make amends on his past behavior lest he earn her everlasting ire.

Standing up quietly, he walked over to the Lady's table. Standing to the side, he caught her attention and bowed. With a small smile, his voice a paragon of politeness and sincerity,

My beautiful friend, the Lady Thrain, I believe I may owe you an apology.


Tue Mar 02, 2004 4:13 am
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Joined: Fri Sep 26, 2003 11:09 pm
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She had already retrieved three more plates of food. While on her way to the kitchen, she had noticed the young man who was eating alone had finished his. He didn't look as if he could afford much- but she figured that stew was not that expensive to make and they could afford to be generous in this case. She hoped they could. He just looked so hungry. The other two plates were for the newly arrived gentleman and the lady who had come in shortly afterwards. She'd seen the lady through the doorway of the kitchen- luckily. It made it easier to take everything out at once and make sure everyone was fed without having to run back and forth. Besides which, she would need to start making a new batch of food if this kept up.

Walking out, balancing the food and carrying a pitcher of cider she began to make her way toward the tables of those who still needed feeding. Started to. The one known as Darkane suddenly called over to her, concern in his voice. Her sister had fallen down the street? There was a wagon and blood? She frowned worriedly.

"will you come with me quickly he doesn't scare like this easily."

Yes...yes of course....

Quickly, and without any preamble she turned to the nearest person- in this case Min- and handed her the plates of food and pitcher. Muttering a quick thank you to the woman for holding the items for her, but not thinking to ask her to pass them out, she wiped her hands on her apron and quickly went to the door following the man who had already left and was heading in her sister's direction. What had Nyces seen to cause her to fall like that? Fear caused her skin to crawl as she neared the group in front of the smithy. Her sister wasn't the type to faint. Whatever it was, must be horrible.

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[center]Forget not that the earth delights to feel your bare feet
and the wind longs to play with your hair.
[/center]


Tue Mar 02, 2004 9:10 am
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