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Old 06-09-2004, 06:45 AM   #286
mark12_30
Stormdancer of Doom
 
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Join Date: Jan 2002
Location: Elvish singing is not a thing to miss, in June under the stars
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the swamp-dwelling elf: Dec 21, mid-day

"You murmur enough to cast a spell of your own."

Raefindan stirred, and frowned. The voice was male. He opened his eyes. Glimmering in the firelight, a slender elf bent over a bucket of water, rinsing a cloth.

"Who are you?"

"Your unwilling host," replied the elf.

The redhaired man stirred, moaned, and lay still again. Outside a dog whined, and Raefindan spoke. "Jorje...?"

"Your loyal dog? He won't leave even if chased. I tied the horse and washed his wounds."

"Wounds? Is he all right? Where are the others?"

A sharp laugh. "The horse will be well; his wounds were shallow. You ask where are the ones who tied you to the horse? I know not. Nor care, if they but stay away. "

"Tied me?"

"Hands and feet. You have rope burns. Why the horse stayed here, I do not know. But you were dying, and I did not want a mannish corpse near my home."

"Dying..." Raefindan's eyes wandered around the cave. Wetness gleamed on the brown rock walls. There was no musty smell. Moss grew here and there. A chimney of sorts was cut through the rock, and there was a trickle of water into a basin near the door. The door was wooden, and needed repair.

With a lifted eyebrow, the elf wiped Raefindan's brow, face, and neck. "Your fever has broken at last. How weak you men are! You will be on your way soon, I trust."

"I can hardly move, " replied Raefindan.

"Weak indeed," muttered the elf, and went to rinse the cloth. "Yet you shall not stay."

Last edited by mark12_30; 06-10-2004 at 08:17 AM.
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