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Post by jarus on Nov 12, 2005 13:38:33 GMT -5
"...drink. Food." Jarus nods to no one in particular. "Yes. Drink. Food. I'd like that. Sleep...? No, too much to do, too much to see..."
He either didn't notice or didn't care about the man who was looking him over.
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Post by Elanorîn on Nov 13, 2005 19:23:12 GMT -5
The dark haired Elf picked up a glass and poured it full from one of the bottles on the table before offering it to Jarus.
V "Dinner should not be long." He spoke decisively.
After a moment's silence the doors opened again and the younger Elf returns carrying a large narrow box of wood almost reverently in his arms, carefully negotiating the door and kicking the door shut as he heads inside.
The first one stands up straight and looks at Jarus.
V "Well... here it is..."
He makes a nod and the younger Elf places the rather large box on the little table in front of Jarus. The wood is black but doesn't appear painted. The box has black cast iron hinges and look very well worked. Though there is place for several locks they all seem to be removed. The box is carved along the sides with one continuous battle scene running all around it. A rather extensive army seems to be in chaos due to one very tall figure at the front.
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Post by jarus on Nov 16, 2005 9:59:43 GMT -5
Jarus' distant eyes slowly turned to the box before him. He reached out and ran a hand across the thing, wondering if the scene was from a time he knew. From a time he had left behind. Was this even the same world?
Too much time has passed. This world is entirely different now.
"Yes... it is. One without you."
I'm always here, now and forever. They will remember me, in time. Then I will finish what I started.
Jarus pulls open the case.
"No."
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Post by Elanorîn on Nov 17, 2005 10:39:14 GMT -5
The younger Elf watches jarus intensely as he eyes the box and the carvings.
L "Not much of a likeness. But I guess they didn't have much to go on." He mused.
The first Elf watches quietly as he opens the box.
Inside, on a thick lush bed of lots of ruffled deep blue velvet and silk lies a perfectly kept and polished, and very familiar, Scythe.
The first Elf raises an eyebrow.
V "No?"
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Post by jarus on Nov 19, 2005 12:36:24 GMT -5
Jarus nods, taking the scythe in his hands. He remembered this weapon... both as a soldier of old and when it was held in other hands. It hadn't changed at all...
"No." He said, again with a nod. That they couldn't hear Shutat surprised him. Perhaps they were deaf.
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Post by Elanorîn on Nov 20, 2005 18:16:32 GMT -5
They watch him in silence at first as he picks up the weapon. Then the first Elf speaks, he gives Jarus a couple of slightly confused glances.
V "It is as you remember it, I hope?"
The second Elf just continues to watch.
The doors to the room suddenly open and a very formally dressed elven man in a black jacket with lots of buttons and black pants bows as he stops just one step in to the room. The first Elf suddenly looks up with an accusing glare.
V [Elven]"We are not to be disturbed." He commanded.
The other elf remains bowed as he replies humbly.
B [Elven]"My apologies Lord Therion. Dinner is served."
The Elf ignores him and returns his attention to Jarus and the scythe.
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Post by jarus on Nov 21, 2005 10:23:09 GMT -5
"It... is." Jarus nodded, closing his eyes as the other man entered the room. Yes, this scythe... he had not thought he would ever see it again.
Smiling, albeit vaguely, Jarus opens his distant eyes. "Therion." Everything seemed so much more real with that. With a name to give to the face.
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Post by Elanorîn on Nov 23, 2005 18:52:56 GMT -5
T "Yes. I am Lord Rethvin Therion. This is Achion Halvor." The Lord states simply. Achion makes a slight nod.
He watches the scythe in silence for a few moments, eyeing it with a look of faint curiosity mingled with some scepticism. A moment later he stands up a bit as if his patience was up.
T "You must be hungry."
Achion walks up to the empty box and reverently touches the deep blue velvet that lined it.
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Post by jarus on Nov 29, 2005 14:39:32 GMT -5
"Yes." Again, Jarus answered simply. There really wasn't any other way to reply. He either didn't catch the name, or didn't bother to reply to it being given. He ran a hand across the scythe, his eyes unfocused and his mind traveling beyond the room.
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Post by Elanorîn on Nov 30, 2005 13:24:52 GMT -5
The Lord turns around and heads for the door, opens it and leaves. Archion looks up from his admiring reverie of the box and then walks up to Jarus.
A "This way, my Lord."
He begins to head for the door, then stops and turns back on a second thought.
A "You... you can leave that here. It will be quite safe... if you wish, that is."
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Post by jarus on Dec 5, 2005 22:56:38 GMT -5
"I haven't... seen it in a long... time. I will keep it with... me." Jarus stands, his eyes closed as he pushes himself away from the chair with the scythe.
Remember where trust got us, Jarus?
Jarus follows the man, silently.
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Post by Elanorîn on Dec 5, 2005 23:09:22 GMT -5
Archion looks at the scythe hesitantly for a few moments before nodding almost a bit exaggerated nods.
"Yes. Of course. Naturally. No problem. None at all. This way."
He gestures to the door and forces a polite smile, waiting for Jarus to go first.
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Post by jarus on Dec 12, 2005 4:41:42 GMT -5
Jarus follows silently, the scythe slung over his shoulder. He contemplated humming.
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Post by Elanorîn on Feb 15, 2006 18:48:12 GMT -5
They pass through more rooms that look much like the ones before, richly furnished and decorated but with almost no sense of personality at all. Everything is clean, the furniture perfectly placed and the paintings are all oldfashioned portraits or landscapes.
One painting in particular, of an old priest dressed completely in black and almost completely bald, has the feeling of following you wherever you go in the room. He has a frowning judgmental look on his face that is even harsher with the sharp Elven features.
As they reach the dining hall the double doors open and inside is a long table fully laid out with food. Roast fowl in sevral shapes and sizes, sauce cups with many kinds of sauces, bowls of steaming hot roast, boiled and steamed vegetables. A roast hog with a red apple in its mouth. Salads. Breat baskets. Crystal jugs with dark red wine, some with pale golden wine and some with water. The room is lit by crystal chandeleirs with candles in them casting a warm sparkling light in the room and making it more comfortably warm than the others they had passed through. The room is full of people mingling around, none has taken a seat yet, but as Archion enters with Jarus the din in the room dies down completely and every step they take on the marble floor can be heard as all eyes are on them, or on Jarus more specifically.
Archion leads jarus towards one end of the table where the chair has a much higher back and is much more intrically carved than the others, save the one opposite where Lord Therion stands, leaning slightly to it arrogantly.
Archion pulls out Jarus' chair on the other high end of the table and waits for him to sit.
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Post by jarus on Feb 16, 2006 19:32:59 GMT -5
Jarus takes a seat in the offered chair without hesitation. He looks back at those who look at him, staring through them as he clutches the scythe to him. He found the feel of a chair like this oddly comforting and, at the same time, disturbing.
Remember our first throne?
"Yes, I remember. I remember... stone. Sky."
That sky is not for us anymore.
"It's... for me."
Nothing is for you. Nothing. I am all we have. No one is there for us. We start anew, Jarus. We begin again. We-
"Yes, we... do. We start again." His eyes focus in determination. He did not intend to do that again. Not that.
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