A day in the life of...

[Delia]

EDIT:

So! This is not a Delia thread but just a short story snippet thread. Feel free to add some stuff that happens when you play or just muse random thoughts. Keep it positive and have fun all

Delia

After spending a decade in the elemental plane of air, Delia was ejected back to Forostar into the Scribes bureau. Disoriented, her attempts at magic ended up conjuring malorous gases and the scribes in turn ejected her out on the streets. Having lost track of time she went out to discover a much noisier Arborea and new faces who helped her to reorient herself. A familiar face, Zehren, appeared and she overheard him discussing a building project in Arborea with the judge.

Eventually the chatter grew too distracting and Delia became weary and felt pulled towards Elvandar which too was a crowd of noises. The city still stood to her amazement even if she heard that once again, the Queen had been killed. Delia had lost count long ago. She did however, meet a familiar face who rushed to embrace her. One of her former pupils, Yngwe, now a sensei and the judge of Elvandar. She awkwardly returned the affection and made plans to meet him on a more auspicious, quiet time.

[Delia]

Delia

A trip to Elvandar was postponed when she met a scribe scholar who asked Delia to read his work, "Encyclopedia Celestia" upon which his promotion depends on. The two discussed the book for a while and Delia retired upstairs. Later on Delia returned downstairs to attend to the repair room shelf where books in poor condition were. As after a short work everything was as good as new, she felt the need to consult a fellow mage on arcane matters and began travelling west. It rained outside and she wondered how it was like the first time that she felt the rain on her hair and skin.

[Laewyloth]

Lae:

Nope, this rock was -way- too crumbly. Nope. That one was too 'big'. That one wasn't even a rock, it was clearly a bone. The young, exuberant and sometimes infuriating 'Genius' both loved and hated these adventures. He never knew what kind of rock, or plant he might find, all he knew is that he'd find -something- neat. Tossing the bone aside, he'd never give it another thought - at least not until he found another "Not-a-rock"...and another...and another. It was only after the thirtieth or so bone that a squinting huff would be elicited and Lae'd stand up with a little 'pop' from his spine after having been crawling about for the past several hours. Someone would later just stare at him as he recounted his lack of luck in finding 'any neat rocks or plants' in the midst of this strange cave. A cave that belonged to a primordial beast, who rather than slay this odd creature...just amusedly watched it bumble about and pick at the remains of adventurers past.

Just another day in the life of Lae really!

[Melendil]

Melendil

The scholar scurries quickly to the city, eager to make key observations of sunset for his next project. He hurtles through the gate, barely nodding to the guards, makes a sharp turn right onto the docks and, ignoring the offerings from Yanna, runs to the sundial just as the light begins to fade. He stands over it, panting, and suddenly grips it in frustration, his knuckles whitening. SODDING CLOUDS! Melendil snaps his head skyward to see thick grey clouds strewn across the sky, scattering the sunlight and preventing the formation of a clear shadow on the sundial. He glares at the assorted cumulous, which ignore him, on account of being clouds. He lets out a slow, frustrated sigh, releasing his grip on the pedestal slowly and preparing for a long cold hike into the mountains.

Hopefully this time he won't be struck in the head by enormous hail stones.

[Arsicas]

Arsicas woke with a start, his eyes shooting open, to be met with blackness. Instinctively, he turned, finding the reassuring presence of Arielle still nestled in his arms. She stirred briefly before settling down again, and he took a deep breath, letting it out again slowly. The images from the dream still played vividly in his head. Fire. Orange, blazing fire.

He furrowed his brow, thoughts churning. Quietly, he lay his head back down, holding Arielle ever so slightly closer. There was a warmth here despite the chill of the early autumn air. He studied her face, veiled by the darkness but ever clear in his memory. Then he took another breath, exhaling in a sigh, and closed his eyes once more.

[Melendil]

Melendil drew his quill across a line of text on a parchment in a slow, tired line. Another failure. Too much narcotic? Not enough poison? The brew was holding onto its secrets tightly. Opening the chest he looked through all the compartments, neatly dividing the herbs. It was a rather fetching patchwork of colours and textures, the elf found himself thinking. With a sigh, he let the lid drop back down, causing a muffled bang that sounded much louder in the empty stone store room. He rubbed his hands together to banish the chill setting into them from the ice cold air. Further research was needed to narrow down the dizzying array of possible combinations. The hunches he had proved to be dead ends.

He let out another sigh, which condensed into a cloud of vapour in the frigid air, giving brief form to his fatigue and frustration. He watched as the cloud was torn apart by the subtle eddies in the air and tried, mentally, to allow his irritation to dissolve with it. With a final shrug, he snaps out of his malaise. A change of activity, that's what is needed. Rinsing kettle before he goes, lest he spoil someone else's work, Melendil departs, nodding a fond farewell to the other guild members. Walking through the excellently manicured garden in the guildhall's yard always raised his mood and so, as he stepped onto the square, Melendil was ready to find new things to occupy his mind as he set off from Banadma.

[roxvod]

A stray ray of the sun peeking past the tattered and worn tapestries illuminates
not only the smooth bronze tones of the room with colours of playful fire, it pisses 
off Edledhron by shining right in his face. He stirs awake with a quiet groan, hand
to his head as he sits upright. Bare shoulders shivering with the cold seeping into
the room from every unattended crack and hole on the walls and window, he stares
through the haze of sleep until it dawns where exactly he is. A black mat decorating
the stained wooden floor, a single lamp on the table, with much to desire in comfort
and amenities giving him all the hint he needs.

He falls back with a sad sigh, arm curling behind his head to make up for the lack
of a pillow as his back meets the creaking bed yet again. A word is uttered, followed
by the crackling of thunder and static casting a distant light into the room as his
nightly guard disappears in a disjoined mess, and the room shimmers in unearthly
colours while the wards of a paranoid elf begins to fall apart one by one...

[Yngwe]

(This is a fictional story. Any semblance to characters living or dead, or any similarities to any ingame locations are purely for the sake of the story!)

Yngwe met a young one who was having trouble with a broken limb. But because the old Sensei was in a hurry, he brought the young one to the gates of the Shaolin Monastery with him while he also worked on healing the injury. The young man was very grateful to Master Yngwe, but was curious about the strange sound he was hearing from within the Monastery. But when he asked Master Yngwe what the strange sound was, Master Yngwe said, "I'm sorry my friend, but I cannot share this with you... you are not a monk."

The young one understood, though his curiosity was not sated, but he continued on his way.

Some time later, this same young one was in a fight with large insects at the crossroads. Of course he barely survived, and his injuries were quite severe. Master Yngwe happened to be passing by, having also fought against these creatures at the gates of Arborea. Once again, Master Yngwe brought the young man to the gates of the Monastery to tend to his wounds. The young man's ears perked again at the sound he was hearing behind the gates of the Monastery. And once again he inquired about it, only to be told again, "I'm sorry. I can't tell you this because you're not a monk."

So the young one asked what it would take for him to become a monk, because he simply MUST know what that odd sound is. And so Yngwe began working with him and training him to becoming a monk.

Some years later, after having earned all of his belts, having struggled through more advanced training, and having been taught the ways of mastering himself in ways only Monks seem to be taught these days, he finally was granted the right to learn the secret of the sound! He was taken to a door in a back room in the Monastery and given a key to unlock and open the door. He was told his training was the key to opening "the other doors". And it was true. Behind each door was another door - each one locked, but each one also easily unlockable by using various of the skills he had learned over the years.

Finally, he reached the last door, behind which the sound was of course very loud. And then... he opened the door and discovered what the source of the mysterious sound was!

I would tell you what it was, but you are not a monk.

[Melendil]

Melendil

The wind howls across the dark expanse of the mountain top though the darkness does not impact the eyesight of the young elf as he scurries between an odd arrangement of sticks and pebbles. He holds his hands to his mouth and breathes through them to help banish come of the cold that had invaded the long thin digits. The chill of winter was getting more pronounced. It wouldn't be long before it would be too cold to continue his observations comfortably. He hoped that the next few nights would provide sufficient data for him to complete his models before the cold became to pronounced.

He observes the sky, barely blinking, looking away only to consult his compass or to marginally adjust one of the sticks or pebbles arrayed about him in a fashion that makes little sense to anyone but him and perhaps other astronomers. He consults the logs of his previous observations and holds up his hand to the sky, closing one eye. He hoped it would happen tonight and confirm a theory, a hint of a pattern amidst the columns of numbers in the log. He stares at the horizon...waiting.

A thin sliver of red peaks above the horizon and the elf practically dances with elation. Composing himself, he again consults his compass and the position of the stars. After a brief period of calculation, he scribbles down a note in his log. The crescent of Skarud slices through the sky, clawing its way towards the zenith and Melendil patiently documents its progress. All thought of the cold is pushed out of his mind. Until the sun rose and once more concealed the objects of his obsessive observation once more behind its luminance, there was only the moons, no cold, no thirst, no hunger, just his work.

[Xog]

Stepping back into the library, Xog looked around for his teacher, and not seeing her, walked over to an empty table to wait for her.
Grumbling, Xog wondered how much longer he'd have to come here before he would get her approval to go back out into the world.
He hated sitting in a room full of books, this was not his world, and it never would be.
He wanted to train his body, to become a fearsome warrior and in this place of books and dried parchments, it just wasn't happening.

After what seemed like ages, he heard light footsteps approaching the table.
Looking up, he saw her...
Though she was an elf, her beauty still got to him.
Perhaps it was this, that kept him coming back day after day to learn the common tongue.
He loved how she sounded, and she carried herself as if she could handle herself in a battle.
She was not the tallest elf he'd seen, but not the shortest.
With long dark hair, and blue-green eyes and a gentle smile, something just drew him to her.

Shaking his head slightly, he watched her as she took her seat across from him and started to speak in the tshahark tongue.
She reminded him of the prior lessons, and asked him if he'd been practicing.
Nodding his head slightly, he began to slowly to speak in common...
"is pr...actice do."
Smiling, his teacher opened a book in front of her to begin another days worth of work.
She gave a phrase, then asked him to repeat it over and over.
Then, when she thought he could speak it well enough, asked him the meaning of the phrase.

Xog hated this, he thought it nonsense. Tshahark was strong tongue.
If people wanted talk to Xog, learn strong tongue and can show respect to tshaharks will.

Frowning, his teacher asked him if his mind was distracted again?
He blinked.
Speaking in tshahark, he asked, "What distracted mean?"
"It means your not focused, your thoughts are on other things."
Speaking in common, "Xog sorry."

And so, the day went on.
For a couple weeks now, he had been coming here and sitting for hours on end, learning something he really wasn't quite sure he would use, little lone remember all these words.
Another thought came up at the back of his mind...
Must learn what balance is. What it means. Must understand meaning.
Xog reminded himself to ask his teacher after he learned language what balance means.