Guilds and Motleys, Aislings and Mundanes: Temuair is interlocked


"Not my fault if you can't catch" T'Gar chuckled back. Sabyn laughed as he slowly and reluctantly climbed back out of the tub, the water splashing playfully over the edge. He stood there naked for a bit, letting the sun dry him off as he tried to wipe water from his body using his hands, feeling the cool air rush over him. It was a beautiful day, it almost seemed to him that the events he remembered were just part of a nightmare rather then real. He winced as he took a step, the wound on his leg reminding him that it was in fact real. Finally when he was satisfied with how dry he was, he began changing into his new clothes.

The shirt was a dark blue loose fit top with no sleeves, made of Dlyisia, a material smooth as silk yet stronger then most cloths. Dlyisia was very popular, as it was also light and offered little wind resistance, making it great for martial artists, and thieves for that matter. The pants were pitch black and baggy, also made of Dlyisia. Admiring the sun a bit longer, he stood there. Different thoughts filled his head, "how could this happen?" and "why did this happen?" or "what now?" stood out amongst the others. But he knew he couldn't answer the questions by himself. Shaking the thoughts out of his mind, he stretched for a bit then finally headed back.

The sun glinted off the clean clothes as he came back around the bush to see his master holding two things in his hands, looking directly at him. Sabyn realized what T'Gar was going to say right away.
"Master you wouldn't!" He quickly said
"You know we can't just leave like that," T'Gar shot back.
"But that's cruel to make me do it!"
"I'll be there to help you too."
"I wouldn't wish this on my worst enemy! You can't make me! I just got clean! I'll… I'll…" Sabyn trailed off.
"You know I'm your master as long as you're here, there's no way you're going to be getting out of it, unless you want to be disrespectful to the other monks."
"No master, I'll do it…"
"Good boy," T'Gar said, handing Sabyn a stick with cloth's wrapped on the end that looked like a makeshift mop. "Besides, cleaning the monastery will count as your training for the next couple days. What's so bad about it?" Using his now free hand, T'Gar took Sabyn's ear between his fingers and led him towards the monastery, Sabyn yelping in pain the entire way. When they reached the front doors T'Gar pushed them wide open. The now saturated stench of decay that rushed out caught Sabyn's nose. Soon Sabyn felt himself bent over to the side, vomiting, as he couldn't stomach the smell. T'Gar could but only laugh.

Abel Tavern Tales


Written Material Copyright © 2000/2002 Palderon
This document maintained by Estara.
Page Copyright © 2000-2004 E. Swanberg (optimized for MIE 5.x)
Dark Ages: Online Roleplaying is owned and Copyright 1999, Nexon.