Bardd
05-08-2007, 12:19 AM
From high in the tower overlooking Niwl Bae and the quiescent haven of Twr Porthladd, the giant bell sang three resonating notes, announcing the full moon's mid-flight position, and the end of the Winter Solstice. Not a soul stirred in the fog-enshrouded city below. Inside the tower, young Dougal shivered as he let the hammer slip from his numb fingers onto the white stone floor with a CHING! The small fire to his right flung exaggerated shadows on the opposite wall in wavering battle against themselves, but did little in combating the winter's deadening breath.
Dougal shuddered from the icy air in his lungs, as he shuffled over to the window overlooking the haven far below. Crossing his arms on the stone sill, he strained to see through the mist. The scene the full moon bathed its luminance in was almost comical: the long, arching cape that compassed the wide bay far below looked like the top of a great goblet, the dense fog like the foam of its contents standing just below the brim, and his lonely spire like a giant straw leaning against the inside edge. Anyone else might have laughed. Dougal scowled, and his thoughts drifted back to his own room at The Griffin, a pleasant enough inn drowned somewhere in the fog below, and the bed that he had been separated from. Bed - if only he could go back to his warm bed, pull the blankets all the way over his head, and not get up until spring. Spring - if only it were spring... Thus went his thoughts, drifting further and further away from his present condition, until he was in a deeper sleep than he had enjoyed the latter part of the night.
Dougal awoke with a start, and discovered almost too late that he had been leaning dangerously far out of the high window. The fire had long gone out, and dawn had broken, gray and grim. The fog had lifted just high enough to be considered overcast and low enough to keep any and all spirits down. Shuffling across the cheerless chamber, he attempted to relight the frozen logs. However, despite his most enthusiastic encouraging and politest remarks on how intelligent the blessed logs were, they simply would not catch, and he returned to his lonely vigil even more disgruntled.
Vigil? No, more like random passive glances between forty winks. It was during one of those glances when he saw it, and the blow of it left him breathless. The grim morning light illuminated the entire haven in smoldering ashes.
~
Dougal searched franticly down the by lanes and inside every edifice for someone - anyone. Pounding on doors that fell beneath his fists and crying out familiar names that now seemed strange in his mouth. His cries fell on deaf ears, and the buildings all looked like misshapen tombstones, silent as the grave. When his screaming voice finally became a rasped whisper, he collapsed. Frowning down on him from his right was a smoke scarred wall with a dark hole like gaping mouth. Above the hole protruded a twisted bit of metal, from which dangled what used to be a sign professing The Griffin.
Silence drowned the city just as fog had mere hours before, and Dougal was forced to accept the awful truth: he was all alone. But what had happened? Where was everyone? These questions and countless others swarmed his mind, overwhelming his exhausted senses. Instead of trying to sort them out, he turned in the first direction he did not see death and ran like all Hell had broke loose. Actually, that was not very far from the truth.
Hopefully to be continued...
Dougal shuddered from the icy air in his lungs, as he shuffled over to the window overlooking the haven far below. Crossing his arms on the stone sill, he strained to see through the mist. The scene the full moon bathed its luminance in was almost comical: the long, arching cape that compassed the wide bay far below looked like the top of a great goblet, the dense fog like the foam of its contents standing just below the brim, and his lonely spire like a giant straw leaning against the inside edge. Anyone else might have laughed. Dougal scowled, and his thoughts drifted back to his own room at The Griffin, a pleasant enough inn drowned somewhere in the fog below, and the bed that he had been separated from. Bed - if only he could go back to his warm bed, pull the blankets all the way over his head, and not get up until spring. Spring - if only it were spring... Thus went his thoughts, drifting further and further away from his present condition, until he was in a deeper sleep than he had enjoyed the latter part of the night.
Dougal awoke with a start, and discovered almost too late that he had been leaning dangerously far out of the high window. The fire had long gone out, and dawn had broken, gray and grim. The fog had lifted just high enough to be considered overcast and low enough to keep any and all spirits down. Shuffling across the cheerless chamber, he attempted to relight the frozen logs. However, despite his most enthusiastic encouraging and politest remarks on how intelligent the blessed logs were, they simply would not catch, and he returned to his lonely vigil even more disgruntled.
Vigil? No, more like random passive glances between forty winks. It was during one of those glances when he saw it, and the blow of it left him breathless. The grim morning light illuminated the entire haven in smoldering ashes.
~
Dougal searched franticly down the by lanes and inside every edifice for someone - anyone. Pounding on doors that fell beneath his fists and crying out familiar names that now seemed strange in his mouth. His cries fell on deaf ears, and the buildings all looked like misshapen tombstones, silent as the grave. When his screaming voice finally became a rasped whisper, he collapsed. Frowning down on him from his right was a smoke scarred wall with a dark hole like gaping mouth. Above the hole protruded a twisted bit of metal, from which dangled what used to be a sign professing The Griffin.
Silence drowned the city just as fog had mere hours before, and Dougal was forced to accept the awful truth: he was all alone. But what had happened? Where was everyone? These questions and countless others swarmed his mind, overwhelming his exhausted senses. Instead of trying to sort them out, he turned in the first direction he did not see death and ran like all Hell had broke loose. Actually, that was not very far from the truth.
Hopefully to be continued...