I have found over the course of the years of my life that there are many ways one can deal with bad circumstances. You can try to hide from things or people that can do you harm or you can face them head on with a sense of purpose and determination. I have also come to know that more often than not I have failed at many of my attempts to drive away the darkness of our times with laughter, song and good will. This will of course not deter me from trying again and again.
Facing Mikael and Omen, Malekai or Fateweaver seems in many ways a much simpler task than dealing with Penrose. He is a man driven by some event or person from his past, his quest for all matter of knowledge seems unquenchable. And though I believe that there is no greater purpose than the pursuit of wisdom, there are some things that we are simply not meant to know.
What transpired this evening is slightly fuzzy in my mind, but I do think that at one time, both Dramora and I were in some peril. I have passing visions and feelings of a dark and damp area, and the feeling of cold stone against my back. There was talk of fire, perhaps the burning of some over growth or something blocking a pathway. I dimly recall reaching out my hand towards someone or something and then searing pain as fangs clamped down on my hand. Gnawing, twisting, ripping and then, darkness took me. When I awoke again I stood looking over the precipice of a cliff, towards the jagged rocks at the foot of a roaring falls. Someone stood close at hand, and I wondered if it might be Dramora. Turning towards the other I asked;
“Now what?”
Then more pain as I felt what seemed to be many swords piercing my back. Falling forwards, I watched with clouded eyes the rapid approach of the rocks below. I knew I was falling, and wanted to yell out for help, but really, what time did I have between me and the rapid approach of death? Closing my eyes, I shut out for a time the horror in front of me, and allowed fate to take me as she would.
I awoke sitting in one of the chairs in the Knights Rest. There was no one else around, and as I looked to my left hand I noticed that it had been wrapped in heavy bandage. At first I thought that perhaps I have injured myself while doing repairs on the Tavern, and that Llyr had done one of his rather over done attempts at wrapping. But as I lifted my arm to look at my hand I had a flash of yellow eyes and sharp fangs. Could I have been attacked by a wolf?
Changing my clothing, I headed to Ques Tavern for a bit of company and some of James’ unusual tea. As I walked into the room and said my hellos, I noticed Penrose sitting at a back table with a wolf at his side. I sat at the bar, and ordered a cup of tea. At about that time Penrose called me over.
As I approached the table the wolf crouched a bit and growled low. And I remembered the beast. Penrose was gloating a bit. It was clear that he had achieved something he had sought. He made references to my not keeping my word to him and leaned in a bit to offer another threat. I am not sure what came over me, but I reached out and grabbed him by his robe. AT the moment I wanted nothing more than to draw my blade and run it thought his body. But I released him, and then ignoring his barbs, headed back to the bar. As I sat down, he asked me to meet him out front.
I am still unsure as to why I went out front. I was wearing no armor, and with my hand bandaged as it was I would have a hard time wielding my sword. I noticed that Clive’s sister Deidre was there, and she seemed interested in what was about to happen. I know we talked for a moment or so, and then he hit me with some sort of blast that left me unconscious.
When I awoke, I was against the wall in what looked like a stable. Penrose was standing over me, and the wolf was close at hand snarling and regarding me as well, supper. Deidre was also there, and had her guardian Bob I think she calls him with her. Penrose was again demanding the Book, and I told him it would do him no good. He accused me of being a liar and going back on a deal, and then made a remark about him not going to the Hand to make a deal. That is when an idea crossed my mind.
I accused Penrose of being the first to break our bargain, and told him that Omen and Malekai had told me that he had made some sort of agreement with the Hand. He of course denied it, and I kept working to plant within his twisted mind the seeds of betrayal of him by the two. I suppose he saw this as a chance to forge a new deal with me, and offered me Mikael in exchange for the Book. Does he really believe that he will have an east task in catching Mikael alone and off guard? I said neither yes nor no, but simply nodded. He and his pet left, but Deidre stayed behind to offer some healing. I graitfully accepted her aid.
I did return to Ques. I needed to calm my nerves and sit for a while longer in the company of others. I did not speak to the people at the tavern other than a minor misunderstanding about seating. I moved to a table in the far corner and James brought me another cup of tea. He asked which of my hands were hurt and I held up my left arm. He looked at my hand a moment and said;
“It’s already starting to grow back.”
I did not stay much longer. But it was nice to hear the Rangers chattering on, and to see Piper sitting at another table enjoying a drink of her own. Penrose stood close to the fireplace, but said not another word to me. At one point, the wolf approached my table and looked at me. Instinctively, I reached out and scratched it behind the ears. I have always had a deep love of wolves, and know that the beast in front of me did only what it was bid to do by a sadistic owner. I finished my tea, said my goodbyes and headed home.
Penrose seems to me to be a bit of a tragic fellow. I am not sure what it is that drove him to be what he seems to be now. And in all truth if I had a way to truly help him I would do what I could. But whatever it is that drives him seems to have driven him mad.
Tonight has shown me one thing for sure. Penrose cannot be permitted to get his hands on the book. And though I know I will be fighting a hard battle, I must find a way to get the Book back from its keeper. So long as she holds that thing, her life is in great danger. I wonder what she would say if she heard what Penrose had offered me for the tome. Would she, even knowing the destruction that could be brought about by its falling into bad hands think that the book for Miks life was a good trade?
I do not think that I could be vindictive enough to enjoy Mikael suffering any torment at the hands of Penrose. I only turned him towards Omen and the others to buy some time. After all, they are big, destructive boys, they can handle themselves. But a man’s life has to be worth more than a few withered pages in a dusty book.
Even Mikael D’Amavir’s
Facing Mikael and Omen, Malekai or Fateweaver seems in many ways a much simpler task than dealing with Penrose. He is a man driven by some event or person from his past, his quest for all matter of knowledge seems unquenchable. And though I believe that there is no greater purpose than the pursuit of wisdom, there are some things that we are simply not meant to know.
What transpired this evening is slightly fuzzy in my mind, but I do think that at one time, both Dramora and I were in some peril. I have passing visions and feelings of a dark and damp area, and the feeling of cold stone against my back. There was talk of fire, perhaps the burning of some over growth or something blocking a pathway. I dimly recall reaching out my hand towards someone or something and then searing pain as fangs clamped down on my hand. Gnawing, twisting, ripping and then, darkness took me. When I awoke again I stood looking over the precipice of a cliff, towards the jagged rocks at the foot of a roaring falls. Someone stood close at hand, and I wondered if it might be Dramora. Turning towards the other I asked;
“Now what?”
Then more pain as I felt what seemed to be many swords piercing my back. Falling forwards, I watched with clouded eyes the rapid approach of the rocks below. I knew I was falling, and wanted to yell out for help, but really, what time did I have between me and the rapid approach of death? Closing my eyes, I shut out for a time the horror in front of me, and allowed fate to take me as she would.
I awoke sitting in one of the chairs in the Knights Rest. There was no one else around, and as I looked to my left hand I noticed that it had been wrapped in heavy bandage. At first I thought that perhaps I have injured myself while doing repairs on the Tavern, and that Llyr had done one of his rather over done attempts at wrapping. But as I lifted my arm to look at my hand I had a flash of yellow eyes and sharp fangs. Could I have been attacked by a wolf?
Changing my clothing, I headed to Ques Tavern for a bit of company and some of James’ unusual tea. As I walked into the room and said my hellos, I noticed Penrose sitting at a back table with a wolf at his side. I sat at the bar, and ordered a cup of tea. At about that time Penrose called me over.
As I approached the table the wolf crouched a bit and growled low. And I remembered the beast. Penrose was gloating a bit. It was clear that he had achieved something he had sought. He made references to my not keeping my word to him and leaned in a bit to offer another threat. I am not sure what came over me, but I reached out and grabbed him by his robe. AT the moment I wanted nothing more than to draw my blade and run it thought his body. But I released him, and then ignoring his barbs, headed back to the bar. As I sat down, he asked me to meet him out front.
I am still unsure as to why I went out front. I was wearing no armor, and with my hand bandaged as it was I would have a hard time wielding my sword. I noticed that Clive’s sister Deidre was there, and she seemed interested in what was about to happen. I know we talked for a moment or so, and then he hit me with some sort of blast that left me unconscious.
When I awoke, I was against the wall in what looked like a stable. Penrose was standing over me, and the wolf was close at hand snarling and regarding me as well, supper. Deidre was also there, and had her guardian Bob I think she calls him with her. Penrose was again demanding the Book, and I told him it would do him no good. He accused me of being a liar and going back on a deal, and then made a remark about him not going to the Hand to make a deal. That is when an idea crossed my mind.
I accused Penrose of being the first to break our bargain, and told him that Omen and Malekai had told me that he had made some sort of agreement with the Hand. He of course denied it, and I kept working to plant within his twisted mind the seeds of betrayal of him by the two. I suppose he saw this as a chance to forge a new deal with me, and offered me Mikael in exchange for the Book. Does he really believe that he will have an east task in catching Mikael alone and off guard? I said neither yes nor no, but simply nodded. He and his pet left, but Deidre stayed behind to offer some healing. I graitfully accepted her aid.
I did return to Ques. I needed to calm my nerves and sit for a while longer in the company of others. I did not speak to the people at the tavern other than a minor misunderstanding about seating. I moved to a table in the far corner and James brought me another cup of tea. He asked which of my hands were hurt and I held up my left arm. He looked at my hand a moment and said;
“It’s already starting to grow back.”
I did not stay much longer. But it was nice to hear the Rangers chattering on, and to see Piper sitting at another table enjoying a drink of her own. Penrose stood close to the fireplace, but said not another word to me. At one point, the wolf approached my table and looked at me. Instinctively, I reached out and scratched it behind the ears. I have always had a deep love of wolves, and know that the beast in front of me did only what it was bid to do by a sadistic owner. I finished my tea, said my goodbyes and headed home.
Penrose seems to me to be a bit of a tragic fellow. I am not sure what it is that drove him to be what he seems to be now. And in all truth if I had a way to truly help him I would do what I could. But whatever it is that drives him seems to have driven him mad.
Tonight has shown me one thing for sure. Penrose cannot be permitted to get his hands on the book. And though I know I will be fighting a hard battle, I must find a way to get the Book back from its keeper. So long as she holds that thing, her life is in great danger. I wonder what she would say if she heard what Penrose had offered me for the tome. Would she, even knowing the destruction that could be brought about by its falling into bad hands think that the book for Miks life was a good trade?
I do not think that I could be vindictive enough to enjoy Mikael suffering any torment at the hands of Penrose. I only turned him towards Omen and the others to buy some time. After all, they are big, destructive boys, they can handle themselves. But a man’s life has to be worth more than a few withered pages in a dusty book.
Even Mikael D’Amavir’s