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Arthur -> (DF)Legend of Arathiel (3/31/2014 16:06:32)
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Legend of Arathiel
'I would like to welcome all the readers who've dared to come and get this book from Maya. As you might well know, this book is one of the most precious treasures kept in Maya's Bookshop. I trust that you have gained possession of it by fair means and not by unjust ones.
My name is Lothraine and I am a Scholar who has travelled far and wide before deciding to settle in Serenity's Inn where I decided to write this book. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.'
-Lothraine Terbranus
Chapter 1
-First of Four-
Arathiel
Arathiel is known by many names all over Lore, some portray him as a Legend, others as a Wanderer and still others as a Ghost who never existed.
I decided to treat him objectively, not paying any heed to what the common folk say. To me, he is a Hero of great deeds and a good friend as well. I have, in the course of my journeys with him, travelled long distances and walked on without end, yet Arathiel, he never bent and nor did he break.
As I begin this chapter, let me tell you that I have made use of a different literary form.
The clinking of Warrior Plates was the very first sound that Lothraine heard in the morning. It woke him from his sleep and upon rising, he found Arathiel suiting up in his silver and bronze plates, standing before the mirror. His face, Lothraine could see, was stern as ever. Not a stray line or crease broke the plainness of his pallor, clearly, Lothraine's waking up made little difference to him.
'Out on another of your adventures, Arathiel?' Lothraine remarked in his clear, strong voice as he rubbed his eyes.
'Hm.' Arathiel replied in short. His voice had a significant quality in it. It was clear and had a ring of earnestness in it.
The Hero tightened the last of the leather straps and then, flexed his body to check if anything remained. Satisfied with the result, he sighed, then turning, swooped up his satchel and and the worn, brown sheath that had in it, his Dragonblade.
His Blade, however, was not in perfect state. It was broken halfway down its length, the work of some destructive spell enacted by a crazed Necromancer. Arathiel had barely managed to escape from that encounter, albeit with a broken blade and his shattered pride.
His age and inexperience were his enemies that day, Lothraine thought to himself as Arathiel left the room shutting the door behind him.
Lothraine started to pack his own satchel, filling it with scrolls and manuscripts that he'd been working on for the last four days that the duo had been living in Serenity's Inn, a peaceful, homely accommodation in the village of Falconreach. The scholar, having cleared up the room, exited it into the hallway.
The morning seemed especially bright that day, Lothraine noted as he stuffed his purse into his satchel, having paid Serenity in full. It had indeed been a most eventful stay in the peaceful village, home to so many of the Heroes that now watched over Lore. Lothraine smiled warmly at Ash as he passed by, probably on his way to Alina's.
'Lothraine...' An all too familiar call made Lothraine turn his head. It was Arathiel, now sitting on his charger.
'We ride now.'
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