A promise of Malice; Drelann's Tales

[Voided76]

Chapter One

It was early evening. A chilly evening, if there were any evenings that ever proved warm in this hellishly cold town. Drelan had wandered up the hill towards the mines, where typically he would pillage the kobolds of the things they -thought- were theirs, by rights. Before he had made it atop the hill however, he stopped in the temple to have a look about. There among the priest, he found a common lass sitting in one of the pews weeping.

Drelan had taken a slight caution in his speech, and softly said. "Say lass... why do you weep?" Her reply was no less frought with the sobbing that had brought about Drelan's attention.

"My pa, ... he's sick, the priest cannae do anything for him. Oh pa..." The woman had trailed off back into her nearly quiet despair when Drelan smirked, almost to himself and gave a nod in the direction of the Tyrian priest, without really making eye-contact. "... well it's no wonder. Say, can you take me to him?"

The common woman looked up through her tearstained face hopefully and spoke clearly, "Ye, ... Ye think ye can cure him!?" Only a slight sniffle had blemished the hope of her question to Drelan, who replied quickly with, "I didn't say that.". Moments later came a small bit of consolation, if not a snide remark to scorn her for being so hopeful in the first place. "I can't help the old man if I can't see him."

The lady's face dropped but despite her further wounded feelings, she led Drelan into the room adjacent the hall where the cleric stood, where a sweating, dying man laid upon a simple bedroll. Drelan took but one look at the weak, gasping man covered in a sheen of a sweat before speaking. "You -did- check him, right?"

The shocked lady turned to Drelan and dumbfoundedly replied, "w-what, do you mean?"

"For wounds, festers, ...sores. Are there any marks on his -neck- perchance?" Drelan said this, and promptly hesitated himself from spitting on the floor, having stumbled into a rather unfriendly, and rude vampire the last eve. In his own mind, that vampire would find the cold revenge coming to him, soon enough.

The lady replied, "Oh no, we checked him. Me and the priest both. He called down all sorts of Tyr's blessin's..." She trailed off into despairity with the comment "Oh what do I do?". Before she started openly sobbing again, Drelan cut her short with his typical straight upon task thinking. "What was he -doing- then? What did he do just before he fell ill?"

The common lass thought to herself a moment, wiping at her eyes, before she stammered a reply, not entirely sure where Drelan was going with the whole ordeal. "We, we collect berries, for the winery, well it's been harder to find berries lately, and pa, well he said he went west, looking for new patches..."

Deep in Drelan's mind, he was thinking to himself again. "He has no marks. no bruises. no sores, and no wounds. He's sweating like he's -sick- but he's -dying- like he's hurting. It's either some real bad poison, or this man is just that much older than he looks..." Drelan cut into her speech yet again. "Right then. Take this furr-lined helm. Your tears are going to freeze to your face outside otherwise. We've a long walk ahead of us." The lady eyed her father again, and tears began to flow as she stammered yet another sentence that fell useless on Drelan's ears. "W-walk? But I, ... you.." Drelan gave her a stern glance, and interupted yet again. "Look.There's nothing for that man to do now, but to try and not die, and -we're- the only help that he's got coming." She followed him without words out of the temple.

[LBaeldeth]

I distinctly recall the session continuing longer than that.

[PensivesWetness]

I distinctly recall the session continuing longer than that.

it's called Editing....

or, rather, say, if it was a movie shot, and Millia was directing, think it would be perfect, just like the book?

[LBaeldeth]

I think it would consist of one scene in which everyone had huggles.