In the Dead of Night

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Tathkar Eisgrim
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Joined: Mon Sep 08, 2014 5:17 pm

In the Dead of Night

Post by Tathkar Eisgrim » Tue Apr 17, 2018 3:59 pm

An upper story window opens. A man emerges. He vaults over the sill and onto the slate tiles. His fingers tap-tap against the air. It might seem he plays an invisible flute.

Softly he speaks: begins 'The Highway' cant.

"World sleeps. Cats dance.
Move feet. Trust Chance.
Recall. Recite.
The Highway Cant."


"Wake baby. Wake hound.
Shimmy up. Shimmy down.
Beat the Baker.
To the ground."


Old muscle memory stirs. Synapses fire faster than thought.

"Faster. Faster.
Lightning strike.
Steal an apple.
From old man Sykes."


"Eat the apple.
Kiss the whore.
Beat Grey Master.
To his door."


Adrenaline flows. Dweomers glow.

"Dead of night.
Shadows move.
Thieves! Thieves!
Upon the roof."


The man stops upon the rooftop of the Red Knight Temple, just shy of King Edward's court. Two fingers clasp to his wrist and measure time and pulse. A district crossed. No falls. No mishap.

Below, a Cordorian guardsman patrols, oblivious. A new mast has appeared in the harbour jutting tall aboard the rooftops. Another ship disgorging refugees and wanna-bes. The view is magnificent, worthy of a painting.

Gerin smiled. Breathed in the ice cold air.

"Trust in Tymora and she shall deliver."

He turned, sped away with great leaps onto his return leg. A time set to be bettered; the blue of his clothes black -- in the dead of night.


-oOo-
Last edited by Tathkar Eisgrim on Tue Apr 17, 2018 9:26 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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Tathkar Eisgrim
Posts: 601
Joined: Mon Sep 08, 2014 5:17 pm

Re: In the Dead of Night

Post by Tathkar Eisgrim » Tue Apr 17, 2018 9:09 pm

"Grey Master. Tell me about Gutterspeak again. Will you tell me about Gutterspeak again?" The timid voice was accompanied by a tiny tug upon the hem of his grey cloak. A familiar and insistent voice.

"You ask a lot of questions, boy."

"I do, Grey Master. I do. But it is the only way I will learn. Right?"

The Grey Master looked down at the boy. He was so small. Almost fragile looking. His clothing so threadbare it almost seemed made of glass. Above it all, a shock of violent red hair, prone to cherub curls.

"Sit" he ordered. The boy sat. Crosslegged and upright. All the other boys he taught lounged. Often with beer bottles to their hands.

"Gutterspeak is our tongue boy. It binds us, makes us, separate us. The churches try and pretend to help the poor of this misbegotten port - but in truth, they have given up. We are now - a tribe - living by our wits. Understand?"

The boy nodded. Curls of red hair falling across his face. The boy angrily pushed them away. They got in the way of the lesson.

"Gutterspeak is also our code. We have twisted Common you see? It isn't Paladin-perfect anymore. It turns and twists into slang. It writhes like a snake."

The boy pondered this for a moment.

"I greckle yer winnershid, Grox. I greckle."

The Grey Master nodded at the Gutterspeak remark, but saw doubt in the boy's eyes. A question.

"Go on."

"Rockin. Is it rose-petal?"

The Grey Master had never considered such a question before.

"Rockin. Twisted. -- I have absolutely no idea."


-oOo-

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Tathkar Eisgrim
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Joined: Mon Sep 08, 2014 5:17 pm

Re: In the Dead of Night

Post by Tathkar Eisgrim » Tue Apr 17, 2018 11:24 pm

They met each patrol as it came. Three men against many. The gnolls appearing between the boles of each tree. He had met the duo upon the road purely by chance and they had taken pity on his meagre display of stealth.

Blades flashed. Magic ignited. Gnolls screamed and fell -- mostly to the blades of his companions -- but occasionally nicked and cut by his own. Each fight was short and very sweet. A dance amongst a maelstrom of leaves.

Gerin's spirit sang. Not for the bloodshed or the mayhem like some Garagos' twisted fiend.

No. Because he danced with Tymora. And the forest was their ballroom.


-oOo-

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