“Little is known about the events that conspired to form the Plains, excepting the accounts of lunatic accounts of soldiers and the venom of ancient dragons. It should damn well stay that way.†~ Michul Pandreag, when reporting on his findings to the King of Doma after his investigation into the Battle of the Raging Heavens and the events leading up to it.
875 E.P., Southern Doma
Orvas Drenem focused on the balcony roughly 35 yards above and in front of him, absorbing the details with a practiced eye. He noticed that the entirety of it was intricate; the spindles were white marble, each one carefully worked into the shapes of kneeling griffons, the single chair and the small table that accompanied it were carved from mahogany, probably imported from Inustan, and the chairs cushion covered in silk. Then noticed the size of the manor the balcony was attached to, the immaculate look of the gardens, lawns, and woods he had passed through, all the trappings of a very rich merchant or noble. The real focus of his attention and the reason he was hiding in a beech stand in the predawn hours on the land of a major lord who could and quite probably would kill him if he was caught was standing serenely in the center of the balcony, looking towards the newly risen sun.
Vania took his breath away as usual. Her features held all the delicate beauty of the Gray Elves as she stood in the soft rays of dawn, painting her pale complexion a rosy color. She wore a flowing white silk dress embroidered on the sleeves with silver thread a few shades darker than her hair and lacked any adornment other than a silver necklace of the kind that appeared to have been braided or woven. An emerald green ribbon gathered her hair at the nape of the neck, and he didn’t she could look more beautiful. Her eyes stood out sharply, the same color as the ribbon.
Orvas hefted his long bow, already knocked, and drew a careful mark. He couldn’t miss at this range. Letting the arrow fly, he watched it bury itself into the chair with a satisfying thunk. Vania didn’t even start when it impacted, only looked in the direction it had flown from. The note wrapped around it held coded instructions for their next meeting. Watching her long enough to see that she picked it up, he folded back into the cover of the small wooded area he had come in through.
Sloppy job that, leaving this many trees thick enough and close enough to the wall that there was only one guard watching the area. The other sloppy job had been the low pay of the guards watching the grounds. It had been simple to find and bribe one in exchange for passage at certain times. Reaching the edge of the tiny woods with no interruptions, he sprinted to the wall. Stopping only long enough to hook the six-foot longbow to his back and cast a spell of invisibility, started climbing. Upon reaching the top of the wall he rolled over and dropped on all fours to the ground. From there it was a hundred feet to safety and the streets of Della where he could go into an alley to dispel.
Not that they could always be called safe. Mercenaries like himself abounded in the city, looking for employment by the Doman army, or baring that looking to head south to the Nekonians. The Doman 5th Infantry Legion was camped on the outskirts of the city and was doing all the wenching, drinking, and brawling that bored soldiers normally do, especially when in the volatile presence of Mercenaries. Not only that but refugees where a constant now, passing through the city on their way north to Doma and Riva, some further. More came every day than left, though that would change if the Nekonians closed on the city.
Every Inn, Tavern, and Barn was full to the bursting and the streets were clogged with the people. Humans and elves picked out by their coloring and size, here and there one of the animal races, though very few nekojin were in evidence. The mercenaries in particular were easily picked out, marked by their tendency towards exotic weapons and flamboyance. It was easy to blend into the crowd with so many carrying weapons and Orvas steadily made his way cross town toward the run down apartment he was boarding in. He shared the blasted thing with 4 other Mercs, including his best friend Sishal Domandah.
I completly re-edited the original to, ya know, not suck so much. It's still got problems but not like it had, plus there's about a page of new material.
ALSO: I got the a new title ^_^ *huggles Dia, again*
Edited by: [url=http://pub30.ezboard.com/brpgww60462.showUserPublicProfile?gid=viator22>viator22</A] at: 2/22/03 10:30:39 am