The old Man and the sky

[Eminenz]

There he stands again,staring at the sky.
Everytime he enters he just stands at the window and looks outside....what is there?Who is there?
Strange enough but from time to time he even seem to speak to someone..or something out there.

"The sky will never change,it will always be above our heads,listening to our prayers,watching us as we slowly grow old,never asking or judgeing.
Up there is the answer,the answer to many different questions,this answer will be as simple as the question is...we only have to dare...dare to ask ourselfs.
No one can hide,as the sky is as our inner self,alwasy watching and listening."

He will stay near the window,always keeping an eye on it.
As he will listen to the brave who dare to ask.........

 

[eriwoj]

"Aye, you are close to the truth and yet not fully right, but then who is?" a man of the Elven presuation calmly comments looking out the window as he lays his hand on the man's shoulder.

The elf is taller than the average man but not as exceptionally tall as so many others. He has soft brown hair pulled back in a very loose braid and his eyes are of a bold but not overly bright blue. His dress was simple, hose and tunic of a gray-green color without a cloak, a pair of standard brown leather boots, and an unbleached shirt. About his waist was a soft leather belt on which hung a short sheathed knife and equally small money pouch. He bore no metal, gem, or jewel as adorment, however his sleeve sliped back as he rested his hand on the man's shoulder revealing a winding vine tattoo.

"Why not join me for a drink? I will even move a table under the window so we can sit near it and you may continue your vigil from a more comfortable position."

 

[Demetrious]

*WHAM!*

The door to the tavern smashes inward with considerable force, rocking on it's hinges as it swings about and slaps the wall with a loud report. Stalking into the room, a man about six feet tall, with warm brown eyes and a thick mass of unkept black hair, casts his steely gaze about the room. He searches the room with a tired kind of determination until his eyes alight on Eriwoj. He considers for a minute, comparing the elf before him to the description he was given, then, with a exausted shrug, he moves toward the elf and his companion slowly.

It is noticeable, that despite the fact that the man's build leans more to the bulky side, that he wears supple leather armor reinforced with metal ringlets, instead of heavier and more durable chainmail. Also noticeable is his weapons, a rapier in a sheath at his waist and a light crossbow strapped to a loose leather holster on his back, unloaded as required by the town watch. As he moves closer to Eriwoj and Eminenz, he seems to flow rather than walk, moblizing with a catlike grace.

Stopping before Eriwoj, looking upward slightly at the elf, the man stops and seems to compose himself, summoning the last of his energy to be polite.

"Greetings, master elf" speaks the man, the cheer in his voice only sounding a little forced. "Would you be Eriwoj?"

 

[eriwoj]

"Yea, that be my surname," the elf replies slightly confused by the man's entrance and forced polietness.

 

[Demetrious]

The man's eyes loose their steel, and his shoulders slump with relief, as if some invisible string running through them had been relaxed from a state of tension. Reaching into a pouch by his waist, the man withdraws a letter sealed with wax and held it out towards the elf.

"Master Eriwoj, I have a message for you." The folded parchment in his hand shakes only slightly, although whether from anger or exaustion is hard to tell. The man seems to keep more than his share of both evil commodities. A vexing problem combined with a hard road seems the most likely reason to have left the young human with little patience for polite greetings or tavern doors.

 

[Eminenz]

The old man turns his head as he notices the hand on his shoulder.His tired eyes study the elfen man,he seems to be far away not listening to the voices.....
He slowly shakes his head as his shoulder becomes cold like ice.


"Why would you join an old man?"

The old man nods slowly....

"I am sorry for my rude behavior......a warm tea could restore my strenght..."

Words are spoken and the old man reaches out his arm in order to touch the glass of the window

"Its a cold world we live in..."

 

[eriwoj]

The elf accepts the letter but does not open it, instead he focuses on the old man.

"Tis, true, the world has become cold and gray, almost like dead flesh. I feel it soon may rot as well. As for why I wish to join you, sir, I am from a tribe that respects and loves age even if we be of immortal unaging elven blood. We find strength is those who have weathered the most winters.

"A cup of tea for my friend, if you will please," the elf addresses a passing bar maid.

Returning the forced polietness with business address he turns his attention to the other man and inquires, "What is thy name sir, why hast thou brought me this parcel, and who hath sent thee?"

 

[Eminenz]

Takes the warm cup of tea with both hands as the barmaid offers it to him.His hands still shiver as he slowly sips his tea.

"...thank you for the tea.."

The old man continues to watch the sky,his steaming tea seems to warm his hands.

".....the world changes,im not fast enough for this new world

The old man smiles a bit

"But your kind is still the same......"

 

[Demetrious]

The young man bows apologeticly to Eriwoj, swaying slightly on his feet as he does so. His exaustion is threatening to overcome him.

"Master Eriwoj, those who know me adress me by the name of Demetrious. I am a mere wanderer, trying to keep enough coin upon my person to keep myself fed. I know not the name of the man who sent you this parcel, only that the pay was good and he was most insistant that I make good time."

He stands again, keeping his balance with difficulty. The last iota of energy that brought him into the Inn and across the room is giving out.

"It would also appear that some others were most insistant that I not succeed in this delivery." His hand comes up in a swift, sure motion that grabs the hilt of his rapier and pulls it out of the scabbord, point down, before plunging the point into the wooden floor. The last six inches of the blade is covered with black blood.

Demetrious sways again, slowly, and finally topples to the floor, unconsious, breathing shallowly. The thump is barley noticed in the noisy common room.

 

[Eminenz]

The old man turns his head and looks at the one leaving.he arches an eyebrow,just a moment later he continues to watch the sky and sips his tea.