GrimsBane1017
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Part One It Begins Again.
He's here. I look up from my moglinberry ale, and I see him in the corner of the inn, staring back at me. I would tell someone, anyone, to get him away from me, but I've learned the truth over the last 8 months.No one else can see him. So I've been travelling from inn to inn, warzone to warzone, trying to escape the man. What started off as a shadow I glimpsed in a window has become my whole existence. Run. Hide. Start hoping for a new life, another beginning. Get caught. Run. Repeat. All I know is this: The hooded man in black does not want my well-being.
I get up from my solitary table quickly, and I move away from the warm fire and towards the door. I've stayed still too long, and I think the man might catch me this time. I contemplate trying to escape to Yokai; they're secluded enough- and then disaster strikes. A small, furry creature bounces up to me and begins a conversation. Can't he see that I'm running for my life? If the hooded man catches me, the same thing will happen that did before...
"Hiyas! I'm Boreas, and I'm a frost moglin! Do you know any frost moglins? We like Frostvale, long walks in the snow, snowmen, hot chocolate, snow angels, snowballs..." The moglin says everything in one endless breath, one endlessly cheery voice. I Ignore it, feeling the cold aura of the hooded man approach me. He's right behind me! I do just what my pa and I used to do on many a cool fall's eve: I grab the moglin under my arm, put the other arm out in front of me, put my shoulder down, and barrel my way through the inn's crowd to the front door. I can still hear the moglin's muffled introduction: "...apple cider, hugs, and presents! Do you want to see my frost shop? all the items are zero ACs for the season! Hiyas! I'm Boreas, and I'm a frost moglin! Do you know any..."
I skid to a stop outside the inn, hearing roaring patrons behind me, but I'm only focused on Boreas. I pant to him, " Did you say shop? As in WEAPONS SHOP?" Boreas nods happily, then stops. "Actuwally," Boreas says, " I'm not sure you've got a high enough 'sober' stat to use these weapons..." I shake the moglin fiercely, and me makes an odd puttering sound. "Okay! Here are my items," The moglin narrates as it pulls a veritable armory out of thin air, " Frost staff, snow sword, winter stave, frostvale's bite, frost moglin pet..." I just grab the winter stave from his puny, furry hands. I turn back to the inn, and I see the hooded man coming closer. None of the other patrons in the inn notice him, and he seems to slip through gaps in the crowd like a snake. The air around him... bends slightly, and I feel sick if I look at him too long. He gets within a foot of me, not caring about the staff. Instead, he reaches out a hand towards my temple. no. No. NO! I remember with a flash the last time we came in contact: the screams, the seared flesh. Back then, before this twisted hunt, I didn't have these scars, and the stranger didn't wear a robe. I will NOT let that happen again. So without thinking, I use the staff. I ram into the stranger's abdomen and yell "avecta ulima Sarcecta!". The world goes white.
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In the stories, Heroes wake up. They recover from their injuries, the enemy is defeated and retreats, and all is well. But this isn't a story. This isn't some fable, some legend. I never recovered. I still see the flash, still see the stranger's shocked look as my light magic meets his... unknown magic. I did wake up, but I never regained my sight. I think the stranger is dead, but I'm not sure. I just woke up in a healer's ward, hearing Boreas ask the clerics "Is he okay? Will he be okay? When will he be okay? Is he okay?" I struggled to get up, but Boreas jumped on my stomach and I fell back to bed. Boreas explained that I'd been in a healer's ward for days, battling for life. Clerics managed to save me, but no nmber of healing potions or scrolls will restore my sight. I feel like sage uldor. Still, things aren't all bad. I'm not hunted anymore, Boreas has agreed to be my eyes from now on, an I'm pretty sure one of the healer's apprentices has a crush on me. Not a bad way to start an adventure, I tell myself, Not a bad way at all.
Part Two: Hunted
I feel like an idiot. Blindly stumbling down the streets of Swordhaven and trying to use my staff as a walking stick, I just keep hoping I don't bump into any level one slimes. In the state I'm in, they'd finish me off faster than I do a pitcher of moglinberry ale.
< Message edited by GrimsBane1017 -- 8/7/2013 17:19:15 >
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