Eternity RPC Board
09-13-2016, 11:50 PM
A good thing indeed that Elke possessed the hindsight to clarify her request to the talkative little squirrel-thing, thereby saving herself from yet another long and winding exploration into the realms of possibilities and capabilities. Not that the rodent would have minded the the exercise that such a rambling journey would provide, but even as Elke might want to spend the next several hours watching the cute creature wiggle its paltry pudge and spout high-pitched nothings to its sole audience member, surely she prefered to catch her ultimate prey and not let the hunt continue for longer than necessary and risk yet another disappointing revelation that her tarrying once again allowed the mage for whom she sought give her the slip.
Especially not now, as close as she found herself and as over-worn as she found her shoes.
Unfortunately, the a little buttering-up can go a long way to derailing one's plans in the face of a tiny being with a penchant for distractability. At the offer of so great a reward for bringing this untroll-child this mage-person - specifically the infinite question of whatever it wanted - Little Red's black beady eyes doubled in size and seemed to go wildly out of focus, it's jaw slightly agape. Regardless of any actions around it, it stood still, brushy tail swishing in a slow rhythm while it stared deep into the infinite realms of possibility, the vast expanse of the cosmos expanding before its consciousness into the ever impending realms of "whatever it wanted," far beyond the realms of affordability for poor Elke's pocket
Much less the realms of attainability for a young mageling with only an elementary knowledge of the natural sciences.
Thankfully, the squirrel's temporal forray into the forever and beyond only lasted a moment to the lesser beings, and only a few moments passed for Elke before the little thing became a fuzzy ball of excitability while running circles around the girl's legs. Chittering away in a lightning string of gibberish that Elke had no possibility of understanding, the ball of fur bolted down the stairs, slipping under a crack in the rear exit, and running along what the locals optimistically refered to as pathways through town.
While keeping pace with any ordinary squirrel would be an exercise most frustrating in their penchant for making erratic twists and turns to try and avoid pursuit and get some place safely away from whatever followed it, Little Red made things significantly easier - if still quite tiring - by hopping in place and waiting for Elke to close the gap between them before darting off on the next leg of the chase through town. Chittering all the while, the little beast ran through alleyways, across lawns, atop/under/around/through walls, and between people as it raced its way through the remnants of Myerleigh towards what Elke could only guess was the requested mage.
What Elke expected to find at the end of this chase was anyone's guess after spending several months in her search, but the building to which the Little Red raced looked much like most of the others in town, though much smaller. Now on the outskirts, meandering stream passing within meters of a small two-room cottage that probably would have siddled along the town's outer wall, were the wall still standing and not anything more than a wide path of rubble through which the water of the stream bubbled on its way to places more exciting.
Clambering along the vines that transformed the small hut into a verdant veranda, the squirrel gave Elke an insistent, "Shhhhh," as she approached. "Behold," it continued in tones all-too-hushed, thanks to its size, as it hung above a cracked window, "the wild druid in her natural habitat!"
One had a clear view of a desolate room that served as an all-in-one kitchen, dining, and living quarters...or at least used to serve such a function at one point in time, given the absolutely barren landscape that lay within. The as-yet intruders peering through the pane found what few furnishings that remained - a timber table, a couple simple stools, various half-rotted crates and a bucket - cloaked themselves in visible layers of dust and dirt, no doubt accumulated over several decades of disuse. The basic cold stone hearth on the far wall sat empty, the last few remnants of ashes long since blown to far flung corners of the room by the heavy seasonal downdrafts through its adjoining chimney.
Amidst the mess, someone violently disturned the accumulation of ages on the floor, as several smallish footsteps led to and fro, into and out of the adjoining room. In the center of the room, where all the steps converged, the grisley form of a man lay lifeless on the floor with a two-foot long heavy iron gate spike hammered nearly down to its curved end into the center of his chest; his tabard and pants ragged from rough use, the mans features seemed slightly bestial with his nails long and his teeth slightly more spiked than human teeth otherwise should be. The man-sized pool of blood in which this un-named soul lay looked as if someone had been dancing or thrashing about in it, and the snarl on his face coupled with the wildly contorted angles of his wirey, lifeless limbs told a tale of a hard-fought struggle.
Beside this grisly scene sat a smallish, fair-skinned woman sitting upon one of the half-rotted stools beside the corpse, absent-mindedly rubbing a bloody-soaked along arms caked and splattered with the sanguine element, the smattering on her face only a few shades darker than the hair that surrounded it. Wearing a heavily-soiled smock, she sat cross-legged and hunched forward over a bucket of murky water, and the pensive look she gave the corpse in front of her, lost deep in thought, gave her something like the visage of a town butcher contemplating her choice of victim and how best to carve him for her customers.
Sans the knives, perhaps, though a heavy, bloodstained wooden mallet sat beside her feet.
"Ooooh, she caught him! Heh heh! Good."
Especially not now, as close as she found herself and as over-worn as she found her shoes.
Unfortunately, the a little buttering-up can go a long way to derailing one's plans in the face of a tiny being with a penchant for distractability. At the offer of so great a reward for bringing this untroll-child this mage-person - specifically the infinite question of whatever it wanted - Little Red's black beady eyes doubled in size and seemed to go wildly out of focus, it's jaw slightly agape. Regardless of any actions around it, it stood still, brushy tail swishing in a slow rhythm while it stared deep into the infinite realms of possibility, the vast expanse of the cosmos expanding before its consciousness into the ever impending realms of "whatever it wanted," far beyond the realms of affordability for poor Elke's pocket
Much less the realms of attainability for a young mageling with only an elementary knowledge of the natural sciences.
Thankfully, the squirrel's temporal forray into the forever and beyond only lasted a moment to the lesser beings, and only a few moments passed for Elke before the little thing became a fuzzy ball of excitability while running circles around the girl's legs. Chittering away in a lightning string of gibberish that Elke had no possibility of understanding, the ball of fur bolted down the stairs, slipping under a crack in the rear exit, and running along what the locals optimistically refered to as pathways through town.
While keeping pace with any ordinary squirrel would be an exercise most frustrating in their penchant for making erratic twists and turns to try and avoid pursuit and get some place safely away from whatever followed it, Little Red made things significantly easier - if still quite tiring - by hopping in place and waiting for Elke to close the gap between them before darting off on the next leg of the chase through town. Chittering all the while, the little beast ran through alleyways, across lawns, atop/under/around/through walls, and between people as it raced its way through the remnants of Myerleigh towards what Elke could only guess was the requested mage.
What Elke expected to find at the end of this chase was anyone's guess after spending several months in her search, but the building to which the Little Red raced looked much like most of the others in town, though much smaller. Now on the outskirts, meandering stream passing within meters of a small two-room cottage that probably would have siddled along the town's outer wall, were the wall still standing and not anything more than a wide path of rubble through which the water of the stream bubbled on its way to places more exciting.
Clambering along the vines that transformed the small hut into a verdant veranda, the squirrel gave Elke an insistent, "Shhhhh," as she approached. "Behold," it continued in tones all-too-hushed, thanks to its size, as it hung above a cracked window, "the wild druid in her natural habitat!"
One had a clear view of a desolate room that served as an all-in-one kitchen, dining, and living quarters...or at least used to serve such a function at one point in time, given the absolutely barren landscape that lay within. The as-yet intruders peering through the pane found what few furnishings that remained - a timber table, a couple simple stools, various half-rotted crates and a bucket - cloaked themselves in visible layers of dust and dirt, no doubt accumulated over several decades of disuse. The basic cold stone hearth on the far wall sat empty, the last few remnants of ashes long since blown to far flung corners of the room by the heavy seasonal downdrafts through its adjoining chimney.
Amidst the mess, someone violently disturned the accumulation of ages on the floor, as several smallish footsteps led to and fro, into and out of the adjoining room. In the center of the room, where all the steps converged, the grisley form of a man lay lifeless on the floor with a two-foot long heavy iron gate spike hammered nearly down to its curved end into the center of his chest; his tabard and pants ragged from rough use, the mans features seemed slightly bestial with his nails long and his teeth slightly more spiked than human teeth otherwise should be. The man-sized pool of blood in which this un-named soul lay looked as if someone had been dancing or thrashing about in it, and the snarl on his face coupled with the wildly contorted angles of his wirey, lifeless limbs told a tale of a hard-fought struggle.
Beside this grisly scene sat a smallish, fair-skinned woman sitting upon one of the half-rotted stools beside the corpse, absent-mindedly rubbing a bloody-soaked along arms caked and splattered with the sanguine element, the smattering on her face only a few shades darker than the hair that surrounded it. Wearing a heavily-soiled smock, she sat cross-legged and hunched forward over a bucket of murky water, and the pensive look she gave the corpse in front of her, lost deep in thought, gave her something like the visage of a town butcher contemplating her choice of victim and how best to carve him for her customers.
Sans the knives, perhaps, though a heavy, bloodstained wooden mallet sat beside her feet.
"Ooooh, she caught him! Heh heh! Good."