Post by Sir Haymar Glen on Mar 9, 2016 8:19:46 GMT -8
Hey all, here's my first free-build for March, and also the next installment of Skye's story: Chronicles of A Spy; Reflections
Chronicles of A Spy; Reflections
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The cliffside rushed past as I fell, seeming to me to pass in slow motion, though in reality it was but a few seconds before the rushing river filled my vision. I barely had time to take a breath and hold it before I slammed into the icy water.
My crossbow was ripped from my grasp, spinning away in the current, and my clothes were instantly saturated with freezing liquid, the only thing I could see as I flailed wildly (I was not an excellent swimmer), was rushing bubbles of water all around me, illuminated by the setting sun.
The sun.
Foggily, through the hypothermia I could already feel threatening to set in, my brain registered that the sun meant the surface, and I kicked for it with all my remaining strength.
Bursting out of the turbulent surf, I gasped for air, gratefully filling my overtaxed lungs.
Now that I was on the surface, I could see that I was being swept downriver rather fast. To either side, green, wooded banks passed by, looking very dry and clam compared to the rough water I was currently residing in.
Noticing that the left bank was somewhat closer to me, I struck out for it, struggling against the powerful current tugging me father downriver. Reaching the riverbank, I hauled myself onto the muddy slope with a mighty heave, and lay there, panting and sopping wet.
——————————
Eventually, I worked up the strength to get to my feet, and started walking down the shore, following the river.
Evening was fast approaching, and I began to shiver in my wet clothes. Drawing my cloak around myself in a futile attempt to keep warm, I was about to stop and build a fire, when my keen eyes caught the rays of the setting sun glinting off something in the shallows just ahead.
As I drew closer, the indistinct shape resolved itself into something I recognized.; my crossbow.
Speeding up my pace, I reached my crossbow and picked it up, grateful to have found it, as I had grown quite fond of the reliable weapon, and had been very worried I had lost it permanently after I jumped into the river.
Turning away from the Aines river, I headed into the tree line a bit, searching for a suitable spot to make camp.
Finding one such area, I cleared away some of the brush, then gathered sticks and tinder, assembling them in a small campfire in the middle of the clearing.
Once the fire was going, I shed my soggy clothes, laying them out to dry.
I then took out my small healer’s kit, and cleaned and bound my arm injury, which fortunately had been numbed by my time in the Aines, and so didn’t hurt as much anymore.
After that was done, I wrapped myself in my cloak, and sat down next to the fire, leaning back against a large rock pile.
After a few minutes, I reached over and withdrew the nautilus shell from my satchel.
Holding it up to the light, I turned it over in my hand idly, thinking about my ordeal in the catacombs in which I had found it.
Unbidden, the dark memory that had been dredged up in those caves returned to me now.
Instead of fighting it this time however, I simply let it flow, taking me back to my childhood, which seemed so very long ago, and far away from here……
————————
I was born and raised in the village of Woodsgarl, near the city of Dragonsmouth, in the shadow of the imposing Dragonscale Mtn range. Woodsgarl was a relatively small village, numbering only a few dozen houses, an inn, and a few government buildings.
My father was a blacksmith, my mother a Healer (the small healer’s kit I still carried had been a gift from her), so consequently we were rather prominent members of our little community, and knew almost everyone.
The mayor, Archibald Mortlen, and his family were particularly close friends of ours, and I had known Archibald’s son, Trevor Mortlen, for as long as I could remember.
We had practically grown up together, and Archibald and my father liked to joke that Trevor and I would end up married one day, we were so inseparable.
As time passed, both of us began to believe that was true, and as we got older, gradually fell in love with each other.
There was only one problem; The Mortlen family, upstanding and honest as they were, hated any and all forms and users of magic. Archibald himself made sure to banish or convict anyone the village constable caught using magic, regardless of how harmless or helpful it was.
This wouldn’t have been that big a problem however, if I hadn’t started exhibiting signs of inherited magic on my thirteenth birthday.
We’d never had magic in our line that we knew of, so it came as a complete shock to all of us.
Although my parents were outwardly happy and encouraging, I could tell they were inwardly worried, and I understood quickly that whatever ‘gift’ I had could ruin all our lives if anyone, especially the Mortlens, ever found out about it.
This possibility was terrifying, and for a while it seemed my burgeoning relationship with Trev was over before it even really began, which devastated me.
As time passed however, I began to believe that I could make it work, even though I would have to keep my unique talent hidden from everyone, only using it when there was on-one else around.
It was a price I was more than willing to pay.
And then it all came crashing down, on that fateful hunting trip, when I foolishly used my power with Trevor still nearby.
I had just turned seventeen, and Trev had invited me on a hunting trip with him, as a late birthday present sort of thing.
It became more than a simple hunting trip between friends on the second day, the night before my life fell apart.
It had been a fun, successful hunt, and we’d been sitting together in front of the campfire, laughing and telling exaggerated stories to each other, when Trev took my hands in his, and almost before I knew it we were kissing passionately, friends no more.
I was in a state of joyful disbelief all the next day, and so consequently neglected to make sure Trev was fully out of sight before using my magic to draw my spear back to me.
As a result, he saw, and despite my best efforts to convince him otherwise, set off for Woodsgarl, breaking my heart with each step.
I was left with only two options; run, and leave my family to a potentially fatal fate, or stop Trev. Permanently.
Faced with this horrible set of options, I had chosen to kill my best friend and first love, to save the other people I loved.
After killing Trev, I took his body deep into the woods, and buried him, marking it as both our graves’, therefore making it seem like we had been slain by a grizzly, and a trapper, having come upon our bodies in the woods, buried us respectfully.
Hoping that would do if a search party from Woodsgarl ever found ‘us’, I then traveled back to the village under cover of darkness, and, waiting until my parents were away for a day, retrieved some things from my house that wouldn’t be missed, then set out for Dragonsmouth, leaving behind everything I knew, in order to protect those that I loved from harm.
After reaching Dragonsmouth, I traveled on to Stonewald, where I enlisted in the army, in the Spy Corps.
Once my training was complete, I was assigned to the city of Durrough, operating under the authority of the Grand Duke of Durrough, Lord Cartney.
I still lived in Durrough, four years and eighty successful missions later, and continued to report to Cartney every time I finished a mission. Speaking of missions………..
——————
I came out of my reverie, reminded suddenly of the letter Mr Jal had given me back in Dalmanutha days ago.
I hadn’t bothered to check and see if it was still okay after my unplanned dip in the Aines river.
Sitting up, I reached over to my satchel, and dug through it, until I found the packet of papers.
Fortunately for me, the packet had gotten wedged deep in the middle of the mostly-waterproof bag, and so was only a little bit soggy on the bottom
Replacing it in it’s spot, I got up and checked my clothes. Finding the were dry, I put them back on, then laid out my bedroll, kicked out the fire, and rolled up in my cloak.
Tomorrow, I would reach my destination, the city of Durrough.
And, my home, with all my books, and my washtub, and my lovely feather bed.
And with those joyful thoughts swirling through my mind, I drifted off to sleep.
———————
Stay tuned for the next installment in Skye's story, where a certain furry face will make an appearance!
Chronicles of A Spy; Reflections
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The cliffside rushed past as I fell, seeming to me to pass in slow motion, though in reality it was but a few seconds before the rushing river filled my vision. I barely had time to take a breath and hold it before I slammed into the icy water.
My crossbow was ripped from my grasp, spinning away in the current, and my clothes were instantly saturated with freezing liquid, the only thing I could see as I flailed wildly (I was not an excellent swimmer), was rushing bubbles of water all around me, illuminated by the setting sun.
The sun.
Foggily, through the hypothermia I could already feel threatening to set in, my brain registered that the sun meant the surface, and I kicked for it with all my remaining strength.
Bursting out of the turbulent surf, I gasped for air, gratefully filling my overtaxed lungs.
Now that I was on the surface, I could see that I was being swept downriver rather fast. To either side, green, wooded banks passed by, looking very dry and clam compared to the rough water I was currently residing in.
Noticing that the left bank was somewhat closer to me, I struck out for it, struggling against the powerful current tugging me father downriver. Reaching the riverbank, I hauled myself onto the muddy slope with a mighty heave, and lay there, panting and sopping wet.
——————————
Eventually, I worked up the strength to get to my feet, and started walking down the shore, following the river.
Evening was fast approaching, and I began to shiver in my wet clothes. Drawing my cloak around myself in a futile attempt to keep warm, I was about to stop and build a fire, when my keen eyes caught the rays of the setting sun glinting off something in the shallows just ahead.
As I drew closer, the indistinct shape resolved itself into something I recognized.; my crossbow.
Speeding up my pace, I reached my crossbow and picked it up, grateful to have found it, as I had grown quite fond of the reliable weapon, and had been very worried I had lost it permanently after I jumped into the river.
Turning away from the Aines river, I headed into the tree line a bit, searching for a suitable spot to make camp.
Finding one such area, I cleared away some of the brush, then gathered sticks and tinder, assembling them in a small campfire in the middle of the clearing.
Once the fire was going, I shed my soggy clothes, laying them out to dry.
I then took out my small healer’s kit, and cleaned and bound my arm injury, which fortunately had been numbed by my time in the Aines, and so didn’t hurt as much anymore.
After that was done, I wrapped myself in my cloak, and sat down next to the fire, leaning back against a large rock pile.
After a few minutes, I reached over and withdrew the nautilus shell from my satchel.
Holding it up to the light, I turned it over in my hand idly, thinking about my ordeal in the catacombs in which I had found it.
Unbidden, the dark memory that had been dredged up in those caves returned to me now.
Instead of fighting it this time however, I simply let it flow, taking me back to my childhood, which seemed so very long ago, and far away from here……
————————
I was born and raised in the village of Woodsgarl, near the city of Dragonsmouth, in the shadow of the imposing Dragonscale Mtn range. Woodsgarl was a relatively small village, numbering only a few dozen houses, an inn, and a few government buildings.
My father was a blacksmith, my mother a Healer (the small healer’s kit I still carried had been a gift from her), so consequently we were rather prominent members of our little community, and knew almost everyone.
The mayor, Archibald Mortlen, and his family were particularly close friends of ours, and I had known Archibald’s son, Trevor Mortlen, for as long as I could remember.
We had practically grown up together, and Archibald and my father liked to joke that Trevor and I would end up married one day, we were so inseparable.
As time passed, both of us began to believe that was true, and as we got older, gradually fell in love with each other.
There was only one problem; The Mortlen family, upstanding and honest as they were, hated any and all forms and users of magic. Archibald himself made sure to banish or convict anyone the village constable caught using magic, regardless of how harmless or helpful it was.
This wouldn’t have been that big a problem however, if I hadn’t started exhibiting signs of inherited magic on my thirteenth birthday.
We’d never had magic in our line that we knew of, so it came as a complete shock to all of us.
Although my parents were outwardly happy and encouraging, I could tell they were inwardly worried, and I understood quickly that whatever ‘gift’ I had could ruin all our lives if anyone, especially the Mortlens, ever found out about it.
This possibility was terrifying, and for a while it seemed my burgeoning relationship with Trev was over before it even really began, which devastated me.
As time passed however, I began to believe that I could make it work, even though I would have to keep my unique talent hidden from everyone, only using it when there was on-one else around.
It was a price I was more than willing to pay.
And then it all came crashing down, on that fateful hunting trip, when I foolishly used my power with Trevor still nearby.
I had just turned seventeen, and Trev had invited me on a hunting trip with him, as a late birthday present sort of thing.
It became more than a simple hunting trip between friends on the second day, the night before my life fell apart.
It had been a fun, successful hunt, and we’d been sitting together in front of the campfire, laughing and telling exaggerated stories to each other, when Trev took my hands in his, and almost before I knew it we were kissing passionately, friends no more.
I was in a state of joyful disbelief all the next day, and so consequently neglected to make sure Trev was fully out of sight before using my magic to draw my spear back to me.
As a result, he saw, and despite my best efforts to convince him otherwise, set off for Woodsgarl, breaking my heart with each step.
I was left with only two options; run, and leave my family to a potentially fatal fate, or stop Trev. Permanently.
Faced with this horrible set of options, I had chosen to kill my best friend and first love, to save the other people I loved.
After killing Trev, I took his body deep into the woods, and buried him, marking it as both our graves’, therefore making it seem like we had been slain by a grizzly, and a trapper, having come upon our bodies in the woods, buried us respectfully.
Hoping that would do if a search party from Woodsgarl ever found ‘us’, I then traveled back to the village under cover of darkness, and, waiting until my parents were away for a day, retrieved some things from my house that wouldn’t be missed, then set out for Dragonsmouth, leaving behind everything I knew, in order to protect those that I loved from harm.
After reaching Dragonsmouth, I traveled on to Stonewald, where I enlisted in the army, in the Spy Corps.
Once my training was complete, I was assigned to the city of Durrough, operating under the authority of the Grand Duke of Durrough, Lord Cartney.
I still lived in Durrough, four years and eighty successful missions later, and continued to report to Cartney every time I finished a mission. Speaking of missions………..
——————
I came out of my reverie, reminded suddenly of the letter Mr Jal had given me back in Dalmanutha days ago.
I hadn’t bothered to check and see if it was still okay after my unplanned dip in the Aines river.
Sitting up, I reached over to my satchel, and dug through it, until I found the packet of papers.
Fortunately for me, the packet had gotten wedged deep in the middle of the mostly-waterproof bag, and so was only a little bit soggy on the bottom
Replacing it in it’s spot, I got up and checked my clothes. Finding the were dry, I put them back on, then laid out my bedroll, kicked out the fire, and rolled up in my cloak.
Tomorrow, I would reach my destination, the city of Durrough.
And, my home, with all my books, and my washtub, and my lovely feather bed.
And with those joyful thoughts swirling through my mind, I drifted off to sleep.
———————
Stay tuned for the next installment in Skye's story, where a certain furry face will make an appearance!
