A fall from Grace [Archive] - Wizards Community

A fall from Grace [Archive] - Wizards Community

Post/Author/DateTime Post
Savael
09-16-03, 03:22 PM The city by night looked much like the remenants of a dying fire. Small clusteres of yellow light scattered about in the darkness of the predawn hours. They were small, glowing promisess of safety, good-cheer and shelter for those who had the coin to show.

The large, underground tavern was noisy and full of people, if you would go as far as to call some of them that. It always filled up like this as the night slowly crept onm mostly by the poor unfortunate souls of the street, drawn inside by the unsavory glow of the outdoor-lanterns and the promise of the cheap redemption offered by the liquer bottle. It was usually homemade merchandise that tasted like hell on the way down but got the job done just fine after some consideration.

The other thing that would draw a sizeable crowd though, was the dog-fights. A deep pit had been dug near the centre of the room and a flimsy-looking dome shaped iron construction had been raised over it to allow more visitors an eyeful of what was going on. They`d pitch the poor mongrels one on one most of the time, but as more and more patrons grew more and more rowdy, and the ongoing bets soared higher and higher it was only the sordid immagination of those involved that would set the limits... if indeed there was any by that time.

Usually they would only use dogs that were especially trained for the action, but then who exactly had a say in what passed for a "trained" dog was anyones gues - and so any old stray was usually let in - to a gleefull roar of approval from the crowd above.

Savael watched the assorted riff-raff cluster around the pit like moths drawn towards an open flame, resentment showing in his yellow eyes. The people who frequented this place were seldom any better than the mongrels they took such delight in watching tear eachother appart, the smell of blood, beer, and smoke hang heavily in the air around him. No worries though, as long as it wasnt his own blood it didnt matter that much. He sighed to himself, the cloven tip of his tounge lolling lazily around the edges of his lips before slipping back inside his mouth again as he slumped down on a small, spindly-looking chair.

How long had he been here now? he didnt know, nor did he cear all that much. He felt inside the pockets of his patched and dirty tunic, he didnt have all that much money left either ...6 silver pieces - it would take him through to the next day allright,but what of the day after that? Or the day after that again? Savael rose from his rickety chair and slowly, pushed his way over to the bar. He had to find work somewhere he thought, work that paid more than the odd copper or two a day... But he could always think about that later, for now he just wanted something to drink.

The glass he eventually got was either very dirty, or the contents of it was darker than he`d immagined. He held it up against one of the nearest lamps and had to squint hard in order to make out a few rays of lights that mannaged to sieve through. He sighed again, make that very VERY dirty. He drank some of it all the same though, after all it didnt matter that much. It DID however leave him with a bitter aftertaste in his mouth, a taste wich he knew he wouldnt be able to shake for manny hours. And on top of that, he thought, he still needed money.

How had he wound up like this? Hadn't he been an adventurer once? Thoughts along those lines slowly began to take form in the back of his mind, stirring up memories both good and bad along the way, making his mind unfold like something akin to a thick, leafy thing consisting of of paper, cheap glue, ink and leather. He couldnt find the right word for it though. Pity. One memory that surfaced in the murky waters of his recolection was the picture of a slightly muddled looking wizard. Savael grimaced into the unidentified contents of his cup, wizards had seldom meant anything but trouble in his experience. Those few he had been aquainted with so far certanly had.
Ricohard_Draconis
05-20-04, 05:36 AM stalking through the merry crowds a traveller his cloak pulled tight about him. He blends into the darkness his face obscured by shadow the only factor that sets him apart from the others is his height he towers above the crowd
Lucky Leprechaun
05-20-04, 02:18 PM The stench was nearly overwhelming from down here. The floor was sticky and ale in crusted as well. It was hard enough not get stepped on, let alone find an empty stool to hop on to.

But it was for the best the Leprechaun thought. For he had to take care of his investment after all.
“Now me boy, don’t ye get to thinking of slurping up some of that spilt Ale.
I be not sure what the name of this tavern of smellyness….. Tis a good bet that thou be calling it the Flee Bitten Tavern!”

Lucky laughed at his own joke, and hurried through pair of Halflings legs, as they danced about in a drunken stupor.

The Luckiest Leprechaun of all, patted the fury head of his money making hound.
“Ahh here is thy ring side seat me pretty!”

He hops up onto the edge of the pit and calls for his dog to jump up.
As soon the others in the tavern saw it, burst of laughter rang out.

One Dwarven women with a few missing teeth, sputtered loudly.
“Is that a Mouse or a Rat?”

Lucky huffed and stuck his chest out.
“Nay ye bearded women of a clan of gully Dwarfs!
Tis the fastest, meanest, most powerful Chiwawa thy eyes have ever seen.!”

And so the little dog shook and growled in its pintsized way. :smirk:

Post/Author/DateTime	Post
Savael 09-16-03, 03:22 PM	The city by night looked much like the remenants of a dying fire. Small clusteres of yellow light scattered about in the darkness of the predawn hours. They were small, glowing promisess of safety, good-cheer and shelter for those who had the coin to show. The large, underground tavern was noisy and full of people, if you would go as far as to call some of them that. It always filled up like this as the night slowly crept onm mostly by the poor unfortunate souls of the street, drawn inside by the unsavory glow of the outdoor-lanterns and the promise of the cheap redemption offered by the liquer bottle. It was usually homemade merchandise that tasted like hell on the way down but got the job done just fine after some consideration. The other thing that would draw a sizeable crowd though, was the dog-fights. A deep pit had been dug near the centre of the room and a flimsy-looking dome shaped iron construction had been raised over it to allow more visitors an eyeful of what was going on. They`d pitch the poor mongrels one on one most of the time, but as more and more patrons grew more and more rowdy, and the ongoing bets soared higher and higher it was only the sordid immagination of those involved that would set the limits... if indeed there was any by that time. Usually they would only use dogs that were especially trained for the action, but then who exactly had a say in what passed for a "trained" dog was anyones gues - and so any old stray was usually let in - to a gleefull roar of approval from the crowd above. Savael watched the assorted riff-raff cluster around the pit like moths drawn towards an open flame, resentment showing in his yellow eyes. The people who frequented this place were seldom any better than the mongrels they took such delight in watching tear eachother appart, the smell of blood, beer, and smoke hang heavily in the air around him. No worries though, as long as it wasnt his own blood it didnt matter that much. He sighed to himself, the cloven tip of his tounge lolling lazily around the edges of his lips before slipping back inside his mouth again as he slumped down on a small, spindly-looking chair. How long had he been here now? he didnt know, nor did he cear all that much. He felt inside the pockets of his patched and dirty tunic, he didnt have all that much money left either ...6 silver pieces - it would take him through to the next day allright,but what of the day after that? Or the day after that again? Savael rose from his rickety chair and slowly, pushed his way over to the bar. He had to find work somewhere he thought, work that paid more than the odd copper or two a day... But he could always think about that later, for now he just wanted something to drink. The glass he eventually got was either very dirty, or the contents of it was darker than he`d immagined. He held it up against one of the nearest lamps and had to squint hard in order to make out a few rays of lights that mannaged to sieve through. He sighed again, make that very VERY dirty. He drank some of it all the same though, after all it didnt matter that much. It DID however leave him with a bitter aftertaste in his mouth, a taste wich he knew he wouldnt be able to shake for manny hours. And on top of that, he thought, he still needed money. How had he wound up like this? Hadn't he been an adventurer once? Thoughts along those lines slowly began to take form in the back of his mind, stirring up memories both good and bad along the way, making his mind unfold like something akin to a thick, leafy thing consisting of of paper, cheap glue, ink and leather. He couldnt find the right word for it though. Pity. One memory that surfaced in the murky waters of his recolection was the picture of a slightly muddled looking wizard. Savael grimaced into the unidentified contents of his cup, wizards had seldom meant anything but trouble in his experience. Those few he had been aquainted with so far certanly had.
Ricohard_Draconis 05-20-04, 05:36 AM	stalking through the merry crowds a traveller his cloak pulled tight about him. He blends into the darkness his face obscured by shadow the only factor that sets him apart from the others is his height he towers above the crowd
Lucky Leprechaun 05-20-04, 02:18 PM	The stench was nearly overwhelming from down here. The floor was sticky and ale in crusted as well. It was hard enough not get stepped on, let alone find an empty stool to hop on to. But it was for the best the Leprechaun thought. For he had to take care of his investment after all. “Now me boy, don’t ye get to thinking of slurping up some of that spilt Ale. I be not sure what the name of this tavern of smellyness….. Tis a good bet that thou be calling it the Flee Bitten Tavern!” Lucky laughed at his own joke, and hurried through pair of Halflings legs, as they danced about in a drunken stupor. The Luckiest Leprechaun of all, patted the fury head of his money making hound. “Ahh here is thy ring side seat me pretty!” He hops up onto the edge of the pit and calls for his dog to jump up. As soon the others in the tavern saw it, burst of laughter rang out. One Dwarven women with a few missing teeth, sputtered loudly. “Is that a Mouse or a Rat?” Lucky huffed and stuck his chest out. “Nay ye bearded women of a clan of gully Dwarfs! Tis the fastest, meanest, most powerful Chiwawa thy eyes have ever seen.!” And so the little dog shook and growled in its pintsized way. :smirk: