Wraithly Origins
Posted: Sun Oct 13, 2002 5:35 pm 874, South Doma
Orvas Drenem focused on the balcony 50 feet above and in front of him. The stonework was intricate; the spindles were intricately worked into the shapes of kneeling griffons, the chair that sat on the balcony was mahogany, covered in silk. The balcony and the stone behind it was carved from white marble. The most beautiful piece was just coming through the door.
She was breathtaking. At 5’10†she was a mere 2 inches shorter than him but he knew from experience that she had a way of seeming taller than everyone in the room. Her hair was a silvery color common to grey elves hung to her waist. Today it was tied back with an emerald green ribbon, the same color as her eyes. The dress she was wearing seemed to flow around her.
Orvas hefted his long bow, already knocked, and drew a careful mark. He couldn’t miss at this range anyway. Letting the arrow fly, he watched bury itself into the target with a satisfying thunk. That target was the chair, being as how if he shot the , she couldn’t read the message attached to the arrow. Only staying long enough to make sure she picked it up, he folded back into the wooded area behind him. The compound’s guards had been simple to elude on the way in and getting out again hinged on them remaining as blissfully ignorant. Reaching the edge of the tiny wooded area with no interruptions he sprinted to the wall and, hooking the end of the five-and-a-half foot tall bow to a projection, started climbing. At this most crucial moment, a guard finally decided to stop being lazy and patrol. . Pulling himself up the last few feet to the wall’s top he weaved his hands in quick somatic gestures, creating the illusion of a running man. Specifically, one running away from his position. Fixing the bow to his back during the guards momentary distraction, he rolled back over the wall to drop 12 feet to the ground outside and sprint to the safety of the streets of Della.
Not that they could always be called safe. There was a Doman army camped on the other side of the city, doing all the things that bored soldiers do and lately there had been streams of refuges coming up from the war in the south. The city was full to bursting. The upside of all this was that with so many in the crowd wearing weapons, it was easy to blend in.
Peeling of into one of the side street he knew so well, Orvas mused over how Vania would take the contents of the message. These musings came to a quick end with the impact of a rather large fist to his face.
<p>--------Sounds like something stupid. Only gayer. ~ Shinigori</p>
Orvas Drenem focused on the balcony 50 feet above and in front of him. The stonework was intricate; the spindles were intricately worked into the shapes of kneeling griffons, the chair that sat on the balcony was mahogany, covered in silk. The balcony and the stone behind it was carved from white marble. The most beautiful piece was just coming through the door.
She was breathtaking. At 5’10†she was a mere 2 inches shorter than him but he knew from experience that she had a way of seeming taller than everyone in the room. Her hair was a silvery color common to grey elves hung to her waist. Today it was tied back with an emerald green ribbon, the same color as her eyes. The dress she was wearing seemed to flow around her.
Orvas hefted his long bow, already knocked, and drew a careful mark. He couldn’t miss at this range anyway. Letting the arrow fly, he watched bury itself into the target with a satisfying thunk. That target was the chair, being as how if he shot the , she couldn’t read the message attached to the arrow. Only staying long enough to make sure she picked it up, he folded back into the wooded area behind him. The compound’s guards had been simple to elude on the way in and getting out again hinged on them remaining as blissfully ignorant. Reaching the edge of the tiny wooded area with no interruptions he sprinted to the wall and, hooking the end of the five-and-a-half foot tall bow to a projection, started climbing. At this most crucial moment, a guard finally decided to stop being lazy and patrol. . Pulling himself up the last few feet to the wall’s top he weaved his hands in quick somatic gestures, creating the illusion of a running man. Specifically, one running away from his position. Fixing the bow to his back during the guards momentary distraction, he rolled back over the wall to drop 12 feet to the ground outside and sprint to the safety of the streets of Della.
Not that they could always be called safe. There was a Doman army camped on the other side of the city, doing all the things that bored soldiers do and lately there had been streams of refuges coming up from the war in the south. The city was full to bursting. The upside of all this was that with so many in the crowd wearing weapons, it was easy to blend in.
Peeling of into one of the side street he knew so well, Orvas mused over how Vania would take the contents of the message. These musings came to a quick end with the impact of a rather large fist to his face.
<p>--------Sounds like something stupid. Only gayer. ~ Shinigori</p>
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at: 6/10/05 17:13