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ElvenWarlord3912
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ElvenWarlord3912
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Nomad

The bright moon pierced the veil of rain that hung over the land like a curtain, illuminating the lone figure running through the tall grass. He had to escape. He could hear his pursuers behind him, communicating in gruff whispers. They were faster than him, and stronger too. His only hope was to keep running. He heard the faint twang of a bowstring and yelled aloud as the barb pierced his left thigh. He siliently cursed their good aim. He stumbled and fell, breaking the shaft off, but leaving the arrowhead imbedded in his flesh. He stood quickly and continued running. Instead of ignoring the wound in his leg, he focused on it. Any pain was better than the pain he held in his hear. It was her fault. How could she have done this to him? She was a traitor: to country, to friendship, to love. He shook his head clear of all thoughts of her. She didn't matter. All that mattered was survival.

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ElvenWarlord3912
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ElvenWarlord3912
36 posts
Nomad

And here it is. The next installment.

Chapter 1 - A Dishonest Day's Work

Rogan awoke with a start, his reflexes bringing his hand toward the sword at his side. It was that dream again. That same accursed dream that had haunted his mind for a week now. What girl had hurt him so bad? What people had he been talking about? He'd loved no one but himself for as lond as he could remember, and he was confident it would remain that way.
He rolled off of his bed, a mere pile of straw covered in blankets, and stood up. He lived in the forest, in a small, one room wooden dwelling that rested in the branches of a tall tree. It certainly wasn't luxurious, but it kept him safe from the predators that came out at night.
He tossed his sword out the door and followed it, nibly climbing down the tree. He jumped the last ten feet or so, landing hard with his bare feet on solid ground. He picked up his sword where it had fallen and made his way too the river that flowed several meters away from the base of the tree. After laying his sword on the bank, a couple of steps had him waist deep in the water. He rinsed himself off and watched as the dirt and grime was washed off of his body and down the river.
He smiled. His life was perfect. No one could find him here. After soaking in the river a bit longer, he climbed out, shook himself as dry as he could, and made his way to the base of his tree. He reached into a hollow among the roots and pulled out a wooden box with a hinged lid. He handled it as if it carried many precious gems, for it held the possessions he cared most for. He lifted the lid and pulled out a long black robe. Setting the box down, he put it on and tightened it around the waist with a black cloth sash. He lifted the hood over his head so only his face could be seen. His piercing green eyes twinkled mischievously as he reached into the box once more.
He pulled out a mask. A simple mask, carved out of a solid piece of oak. Eye slits were cut slanting downward to give an angry impression and the mouth was carved in a twisted grin. Rogan smiled once more as he placed the mask over his face and picked up his sword. Who said that evil men couldn't be happy? He rested the flat of his blade against his shoulder. It was time for another dishonest day's work.

The tall man stared into the bowl of water before him, through which he could see Rogan as he put on his boots and walked out of the forest towards civilization. The man was rather gaunt: his skin looked as though it had been forced to stretch over his bones, and his eyes were lifeless. A man stood behind him. A man with blood red eyes and pure white teeth. A vicious axe rested against his shoulder.
"Your Family has failed me once again Garesh... He wanders free still." The tall man's voice was as cold and lifeless as his eyes.
"Yes Dreamweaver. We beg your forgiveness." Garesh's smooth voice filled the dimly lit room. "We try our hardest. He continually chooses death over capture."
The tall man stood still for several minutes, eyes closed, before speaking again. "Be grateful that I am ver forgiving, Garesh. You have one more chance... But, fail me again, and you know the consequences."
"Yes Dreamweaver. My thanks." Garesh quickly bowed and backed out of the room.
The Dreamweaver looked once more at the bowl of water in front of him. He clenched his teeth and glared at Rogan's masked face.
"Prepare yourself, mortal. I doubt you can stand up to what's coming your way."

ElvenWarlord3912
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ElvenWarlord3912
36 posts
Nomad

And the next chapter! I'm thoroughly enjoying this. The plet forms in my head so fast that I have several more chapters outlined and haven't experienced any writer's block! It's great. Wish I had some more comments though.

Chapter 2 - Ink and Paper

Konin the bookseller entered his small dwelling in the heart of the city of Cora. He had traveled many leagues to find such a location, and he had to admit, Cora was an ideal spot to sell books. Cora was the capital city of Maratha, and home to the king's palace. The king held great esteem for education, so even the poorest inhabitants of Cora could read. Yet the books Conin sold would not find their way into the hands of a peasant. They were meant for royalty, nobility, and occasionally a favored knight in service of the king. His books were of the highest quality, each one intricately handwritten in the most artistic scripts, and filled with pictures that looked alive because the colors were so vivid. No, his books didn't belong in the hands of the common people, which is why he locked his door, even at this hour in the early morning.
His books were rather expensive after all, each one worth quite a bit of gold. He had in fact come from a meeting with a prospective buyer who had offered a substantial sum for a book: <i>The Dark Arts of Ink and Paper</i>. It had been written by a great magician many years ago. It was beautifully illustrated with many scenes, usually of the demonic, and yet it was written in a language that seemingly no one could read. For that reason alone he had not been able to sell it.
Konin went to one of the locked cabinets that lined one wall of the room and took out a small key. After unlocking it, he took out the book. He stood, stroking the spine tenderly, reading the title over and over again, the only part that was written in Common. As he opened the book to look at some of the illustrations, he thought of his customer. He was a large man, muscular and tall, but other than the fact that he was abnormally ugly, there was nothing to distinguish him from anyone else. Except the scar. The scar that ran from his right ear all the way across his face down to his neck. Although he wasn't dressed like a soldier, he seemed to be a warrior all the same. Where did he get all that money though?
Konin shut the book. Who was he to judge? He stroked his long greay beard. The man had done no harm to him, and had the money to buy a book. Why shouldn't he sell it to him? He put the book back in the cabinet and locked it.

A couple of kilometers away, three figures crouched in waiy. One had a huge scar across his face, another had only one eye, and a hole where the other one had been, while the third had perfectly white skin. The one with the white skin spoke to the others in a voice that seemed too high for his body.
"I'm telling you. It's not smart to do this in daylight. Believe it or not, the three of us kind of stand out."
"Shut your pale face, Sillegm!" The man with the scar on his face turned to face his one-eyed companion. "Does he have it Karneg?"
Karneg shut his eye. "Give me a few seconds brother and I'll know." He opened his eye again and instead of the normal eye it was just moments before, the whole eye had turned black. He whispered quietly to himself and stared off into the blue morning sky with his sightless eye. A minute later he closed it, and when it was opened again to look at his scarred sibling, it was normal once more. "He has it, Gilder. In a locked cabinet in his house. It's a simple lock and shouldn't prove much of a problem for Sillegm.
Gilder had a look of disgust pasted on his face. "I've known you all of my life and I'm still not used to your gift of Longsight."
"Well brother, that's what we get for having a demon for a father."
Sillegm snorted and spoke in his high pitched voice. "At least the two of you can see! Even if you only have one eye, Karneg!" He turned his milky white eyes to his brothers. "I however am sightless."
"True Sillegm, but you're the best fighter of us all!" Silegm glared at Karneg's remark with his pupiless eyes.
"I said I was sightless. That doesn't mean I'm blind."
"Will you two stop bickering? Garesh sent us here for a reason!" Gilder's harsh voice shut his brothers up. "If we're gonna do this, we better do it now. You ready?"
Karneg picked up the bow and quiver of arrows at his feet and hung the quiver at his waist while Sillegm readied the twin daggers at his belt. Gilder slung his broadsword over his back and made sure the strap across his bare chest. He looked around, making sure they wouldn't be noticed. When he was sure they were safe, the three brothers left the deserted market stall they had been iding behind and headed down the street. Their destination? Konin's Rare Book Shop!

ElvenWarlord3912
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ElvenWarlord3912
36 posts
Nomad

lol. It says plet, and I meant plot at the beginning. sorry. I hate typos and it was bugging me.

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