12-20-2016, 04:29 PM
As he crossed the threshold of the Darkshire gates, a mildewed, erosion-pocked limestone arch hosting a pair of massive iron-bound wooden doors, Kelly was very nearly overcome by a wave of vertigo. The stress and exertion of the entire night seemed to catch up to him all at once, and he had to lean heavily on his staff to keep from falling over, staring down at wet, dirty cobblestones while his vision pulsed.
It's official: Setting out without a real weapon was a stupid decision. Just because I could summon one if I needed one didn't mean I'd get the chance.
He frowned. Failing to over-prepare, he was fairly certain, wasn't like him.
I rushed into this. The return of my haunt made me overconfident. Also, somehow, I guess I didn't expect to get tired. I don't think that used to happen to me.
Lesson learned - just because I'm regaining some of my advantages doesn't mean I can afford to skimp on due diligence.
Kelly's introspective analysis was interrupted when he became dimly aware that someone was talking. He blinked hard, shaking his head in an effort to clear the fog from his mind, and looked up into the sallow, stubbled face of an obviously concerned guard.
"Could you repeat that?" the traveler croaked.
"I asked you, sir, if you need help." said the guard.
The man didn't look sick exactly, but he didn't look healthy either - too much stress and not enough sleep, if Kelly was any judge. His equipment, on the other hand, was well maintained and well used : oiled chain-mail and leather, with a battered but still serviceable helmet. There was a buckler on his arm and a short-sword at his hip.
"I'll be alright, though I appreciate your concern. I'm a prime," Kelly said, clearing his throat. "I heard about the upcoming attack, and I came here to help you... At the moment though, I could use a place to rest. It's been a long night."
The guard snorted, scratched at the back of his neck and muttered something Kelly didn't quite catch. Aloud, he said, "There's an empty cell in the basement of the gate-house that you could use. It's warm and dry, and the rats are pretty tame. Otherwise, if you'd prefer something a little more posh, there are taverns in town with rooms to rent."
Kelly thought about it, pictured himself falling face-first in the street on his way to a tavern and just falling asleep right there on the cobbles. He looked around. There was a sturdy, gray stone tower beside the gate, its parapet even with the town's walls. It had archery slits facing the road, and a single wooden door. The rest of the town loomed nearby, wet bricks, dark wood and stained granite looking gnarled and sickly in the gray morning light.
"The gate-house will be fine. Just remember I'm down there, please. In spite of appearances, if anything happens, I can help."
The little cell was mostly as-advertised - a small stone room with a door of iron bars dividing it in two, accessed by a trap-door in the gatehouse. There was a barrel of rainwater in the corner, and a pile of dry hay on the floor. Kelly leaned his staff against the wall, lay down on the hay, and fell asleep before his eyes were all the way closed.
He awoke in the middle of the afternoon, feeling much better, but also slightly confused.
The traveler had dreamed of penguins, with strangely articulated flippers and squawky little voices. Penguins wearing labcoats. Penguins in mechanized armor firing great, big guns. Penguins eating elaborately unhealthy dinners, side-by-side with human beings and other, less familiar creatures.
Right before he woke up, a bird with little red and orange feathered crests on his head and a suede red leather vest had poured him a drink, and told him he was still forgetting something important.
Kelly sat up and rubbed his face.
That's the second time time in two days. 'Something important'... I'm forgetting a lot of things. It would be nice if my subconscious would give me some actual details.
While he tried in vain to sort out why his brain was full of birds, Kelly used the water-barrel to clean himself up. By the time he was finished, the contents had turned oily and black. The next order of business was his wounds. He spent three more hours sitting somewhat impatiently still, drawing on his Omnilium reserves to repair the gash in his torso and the worst of his cuts and bruises.
After that, it was just a matter of summoning himself a new shirt and tying his hair back in place. Even that small delay was irritating.
In the end, I guess I didn't save any time at all. It's only luck I've had the opportunity to recover - I need to do better than this.
With bitter self-recrimination driving the penguins from his thoughts, Kelly took up his staff and climbed the ladder.
It was past time he introduced himself to the people in charge of Darkshire's defense.
It's official: Setting out without a real weapon was a stupid decision. Just because I could summon one if I needed one didn't mean I'd get the chance.
He frowned. Failing to over-prepare, he was fairly certain, wasn't like him.
I rushed into this. The return of my haunt made me overconfident. Also, somehow, I guess I didn't expect to get tired. I don't think that used to happen to me.
Lesson learned - just because I'm regaining some of my advantages doesn't mean I can afford to skimp on due diligence.
Kelly's introspective analysis was interrupted when he became dimly aware that someone was talking. He blinked hard, shaking his head in an effort to clear the fog from his mind, and looked up into the sallow, stubbled face of an obviously concerned guard.
"Could you repeat that?" the traveler croaked.
"I asked you, sir, if you need help." said the guard.
The man didn't look sick exactly, but he didn't look healthy either - too much stress and not enough sleep, if Kelly was any judge. His equipment, on the other hand, was well maintained and well used : oiled chain-mail and leather, with a battered but still serviceable helmet. There was a buckler on his arm and a short-sword at his hip.
"I'll be alright, though I appreciate your concern. I'm a prime," Kelly said, clearing his throat. "I heard about the upcoming attack, and I came here to help you... At the moment though, I could use a place to rest. It's been a long night."
The guard snorted, scratched at the back of his neck and muttered something Kelly didn't quite catch. Aloud, he said, "There's an empty cell in the basement of the gate-house that you could use. It's warm and dry, and the rats are pretty tame. Otherwise, if you'd prefer something a little more posh, there are taverns in town with rooms to rent."
Kelly thought about it, pictured himself falling face-first in the street on his way to a tavern and just falling asleep right there on the cobbles. He looked around. There was a sturdy, gray stone tower beside the gate, its parapet even with the town's walls. It had archery slits facing the road, and a single wooden door. The rest of the town loomed nearby, wet bricks, dark wood and stained granite looking gnarled and sickly in the gray morning light.
"The gate-house will be fine. Just remember I'm down there, please. In spite of appearances, if anything happens, I can help."
The little cell was mostly as-advertised - a small stone room with a door of iron bars dividing it in two, accessed by a trap-door in the gatehouse. There was a barrel of rainwater in the corner, and a pile of dry hay on the floor. Kelly leaned his staff against the wall, lay down on the hay, and fell asleep before his eyes were all the way closed.
He awoke in the middle of the afternoon, feeling much better, but also slightly confused.
The traveler had dreamed of penguins, with strangely articulated flippers and squawky little voices. Penguins wearing labcoats. Penguins in mechanized armor firing great, big guns. Penguins eating elaborately unhealthy dinners, side-by-side with human beings and other, less familiar creatures.
Right before he woke up, a bird with little red and orange feathered crests on his head and a suede red leather vest had poured him a drink, and told him he was still forgetting something important.
Kelly sat up and rubbed his face.
That's the second time time in two days. 'Something important'... I'm forgetting a lot of things. It would be nice if my subconscious would give me some actual details.
While he tried in vain to sort out why his brain was full of birds, Kelly used the water-barrel to clean himself up. By the time he was finished, the contents had turned oily and black. The next order of business was his wounds. He spent three more hours sitting somewhat impatiently still, drawing on his Omnilium reserves to repair the gash in his torso and the worst of his cuts and bruises.
After that, it was just a matter of summoning himself a new shirt and tying his hair back in place. Even that small delay was irritating.
In the end, I guess I didn't save any time at all. It's only luck I've had the opportunity to recover - I need to do better than this.
With bitter self-recrimination driving the penguins from his thoughts, Kelly took up his staff and climbed the ladder.
It was past time he introduced himself to the people in charge of Darkshire's defense.