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Thread: Old Ways IC

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    Barbarian in the Playground
    Join Date
    Sep 2010

    Default Re: Old Ways IC

    Stefan Reinhardt

    Stefan was moving faster than he thought possible in his heavy plate-mail surcoat. His footfalls were heavy now, uncaring of what terrors he would awake in his flight. He burst from the front door of the mill and into the welcome light of day. His heart and mind raced with adrenaline as he felt the safety of the sun wash over him.

    No way! There's no way I can do that. Petra...

    Stefan hunched over, hands resting on his knees as he panted.

    ...It's too much! Why would you send a novice when Father Hasiluk was in just last week? And why would you send me, if you had to send any novice. You know me, Petra! You're supposed to be the Goddess of Wisdom--

    He stopped his train of thought as it ran close to blasphemy. A wash of calmness mixed with self-loathing came over Stefan, and he sunk heavily to the ground. The unfamiliar sound of metal armor rattled about him as his weight shifted. Relentingly, Stefan allowed himself to look back towards the old mill. The gaping maw from which he had just sprung seemed hungry to devour him once more.

    Stefan shook his head to dismiss that notion. It was a building, belonging to Lord Bost - nothing more. There was a job to do. A job that Stefan had never in his life pictured himself actually wanting to do.

    Adventurers die. Isn't that it? A get rich quick scheme - just right for my brothers, but not little Stefan. His mother's words were echoing in his head.

    I can just imagine Brandon coming back with the head of some dragon over his shoulder, all triumphant, just like he always was. But I'd never have thought Sid would be so eager to jump into danger like that!

    Stefan frowned.

    Sid wasn't eager - he was scared too, Stefan had seen it in his eyes. Sid! Why'd you gotta have such a big chip on your shoulder all the time! This is exactly what got you into trouble with those braggarts down at Baron's. If I hadn't been there to talk you out of it, you woulda --

    Stefan looked down into his hand. His fingers clenched tightly around the grip of his mace.


    Stefan rose, shakily and turned to run.

    ...You sure could have picked a better novice than me!

    Stefan re-entered the mill as quickly as he had fled.
    Last edited by Valameer; 2010-12-07 at 07:44 PM.