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Oh, you'll find out soon enough
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Date Posted: 13:50:30 02/17/02 Sun
In a small, humble-looking inn on the other side of town, a small figure stirs in its sleep. With a hoarse yawn, it sits up in the tangled mess of sheets, stretches and blinks a few times, clearing the sleep from its eyes. Mumbling softly, it slides to the floor and staggers toward the small room's closet.
Another day, another chance.
Quickly removing its tattered nightgown, the figure dresses itself in shirt and pants of thick, semi-damp cloth. With some difficulty, it straps an ill-fitting bronze breastplate over its torso and wraps a black sash about its waist.
Finally, the figure strolls back to the bed, having completely woken up, and kneels, reciting a quick prayer. Without opening its eyes, it reaches under the tiny cot and removes a dark red wooden shield, etched with a bizarre-looking coat of arms (a pair of dragons ripping a crown in two), slinging it over its back. Then, a short sword is produced, still in its sheath.
The figure half draws the sword and stares into the brilliantly polished, gleaming metal, as if searching for something in the reflection. It sighs, re-sheathes the sword, and hooks the scabbard to its belt.
Then, drawing a grey, hooded cape over its head, the figure slowly walks down the hall, to the tavern portion of the inn...
* * *
"Why, good morning, liddle master!" The innkeeper forced a grin at the figure. "How was yer sleep, iffen ye don't mind me askin'? Bed comfy enough for ye?"
"I do assure thee, good sir, that the bedding was more than adequate. Thankee for thy concern."
The man fidgeted a little. This small creature disturbed him. Which was disturbing in an of itself, as he had served orcs, ogres and worse without batting an eye. For all he knew, the little fellow was nothing more than a halfling or dwarf, or even a gnome. He couldn't really be sure, as it covered every inch of itself with clothing of some sort.
"Most glad t'hear that. Will ye be stayin' with us again tonight, then?"
"...I think not. I have things to do and I doubt I shall return. I have all my belongings with me already. If you would be so kind, I'd like to purchase a few skins of red wine, and then I might take my leave."
"Oh, at once." Relieved, the innkeeper quickly filled a pair of skins with the tart, red concoction and handed them to the figure and coming away with a hand full of silver coins.
"Thank you. The Lord watch over you."
With that, the figure strode out into the street, out of town, and into the thickest, darkest part of the forest.
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