Guilds and Motleys, Aislings and Mundanes: Temuair is interlocked


Wincing as the pain throbbed through his arm, he felt the sword pushing into his back again. The blood mixing with the cold rain made him shiver as it dripped from his fingers to the wet grass below. The water dripping off his drenched hair hid the few tears that run from his eyes as he hung his head in silence. He could feel the sword digging deeper and deeper into his back as he gradually slowed his pace with each step. He could feel a warm trickle running down his back, he knew he was bleeding there too. The only sounds being those of the rain falling to the land, and the soft thud of their feet connecting with the ground. As the reached the city walls, Palderon could feel his head starting to spin and his vision starting to get a bit blurry, finding it harder and harder to keep walking. He felt the sharp pain as the sword at his back dug even further into him.

He could see the crowds in the street parting at the sight of him. The people kept getting gradually more vague. Unexpectedly, he was hit with something soft and gooey the red color mixing in with the blood on his shirt, then he started to feel more hitting him. Occasionally a hard thing would hit him as well as the crowd around he could hear yelling, maybe even making jokes about him he thought. He found himself fumbling along the streets, trying to hard to keep one foot in front of the other as the lines forming the stone path danced in front of his eyes. Soon they approached what appeared to Palderon as a door. Inside he could see a hall leading down. Suddenly he felt his legs give out from under him as he went plummeting down some stairs, smacking solidly into the ground. Behind him he could make out some yelling, but he couldn't understand a word.

The stranger that took his stuff seemed to be having a conversation with someone, but all it sounded like to Palderon was a bunch of jumbled noise. He was having trouble concentrating as the world turned increasingly faster. A new blur then entered from the shadows. He could make out the silvery blur of something appearing from the new mans side, as a hazy ball of sorts hit the ground beside him and rolled a bit before stopping. He felt himself being picked up to his feet but, having no strength left to stand up on his own, he found himself falling every few steps, only to be picked up again. No longer was he able to tell things apart now. Forgetting everything, the blood, his journey, his existence, he could only think about the throbbing in his head, and that too he found hard to concentrate on. He could feel himself being stood against a wall, then a faint sound like a click from somewhere around him. The blur spun around his head faster and faster as he felt it growing harder to keep his eyes open. Slowly his eyelids shut, as he fell from where he was standing, connecting solidly with the ground, out cold.

Chapter 4: Lyrk Mountains

It was dark. He couldn't see his hand if he had put it right in front of his eyes. It was almost too dark to be real. He groped around in the shadows trying to find something. Suddenly a glint of silver appeared in front of him, as a giant two-headed axe came flying down just ahead of him. Eerily, he didn't hear a crash from it. Startled by what he saw, he reached his hand forward. His fingers wrapped around the shaft of the axe, suddenly intense heat shot through his fingers. He went to scream, but there was no sound from his mouth as the silvery metal began to glow a soft red. He pulled his hand away quickly, looking down at his palm. To his amazement there were no burns or melted skin, his hand was still healthy except the diminishing throb of heat. He looked back up to the axe, which was now gone mysteriously as it had appeared.

Again he was wrapped in darkness, fear began to enter his heart as he worried what was going on. Again, the glint of silver appeared, this time in the distance high up. Squinting his eyes, he looked up at the faint sparkles. Suddenly his eyes lit up with horror as the objects came into view. He started running away from them but they seemed to follow him, he couldn't get away, he couldn't move. He was helpless as the specks took form, getting closer and closer. Again he yelled out, this time for help, and once again no sound was heard. He ducked down hiding his head under his arms, hoping for a quick death. He lost all his hope. He waited, yet for a while he didn't feel anything. Slowly he looked up from his spot. The barrage of arrows that were coming for him had all landed in a perfect circle around him. He jumped out of the circle, scared what it meant. Suddenly the floor gave way beneath him as he started tumbling, the blackness engulfing him again as he careened downwards. Suddenly Sabyn bolted up from his resting-place, panting and sweating. He looked down at his hand then laid back down.

Abel Tavern Tales


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