Oh my, she really is beautiful. And not the standard Barbie doll face, either. I like her outfit. Your lots are fantastic. I'm always in awe at the pictures you take.
Thank you, 123. And I don't know where I got her outfit, either. Unfortunately, I wander around in so many sites, following links that go around the world, often written in languages I don't understand, that I lose track of where I've been. Unless the site is particularly spectacular I don't bookmark it. I see one or two things I like, download them, then wander off following another path of links. I did, by the way, since you asked so kindly, research Andy's skin. As it turns out, I found it in an 'adult' site which I can't mention. However, I think that for unusual and otherworldly skins, Enayla has better ones. I would have used hers if I'd seen them in time. My downloads folder has almost 4,000 completely unorganized files in it. It amazes me that my computer is still willing to load the game.
I love that inn, and I'm half in love with the Inn Woman too. She's definitely not Barbie. She's got a very sad, sultry look about her, like a woman with depth and secrets. I'm with Andy. But if she runs I'll never find out the rest of the Inn Woman/Egan/Inn Man triangle and that would be a shame.
The room inside was warm, and smelled like smoky wood and stale beer. Somehow the late afternoon sunlight found its way through the trees and the dirty tavern windows to throw light across a couple of old tables. There were two other travelers with plates of food in front of them. I was tired and chilled from the long walk so I sat down on a bench close to the rusted iron stove, wishing I could take a bath. Even though it hadnt rained, the weather in the woods was muggy, and the trees shed water and other debris, so my clothes were damp and full of things that scratched my skin. I suspected some of those things had legs. The elderly woman set a plate of food in front of me, the usual chopped vegetables, boiled this time until they had no flavor left at all, but I wasnt going to complain about it. That tired maxim was true: beggars cant be choosers. In this strange world I had nothing of my own, and was as ignorant and uneducated as to the life here has a person can be. A scientist? I laughed to myself, which drew a sharp look from the old woman. In a world ruled by sorcerers do the laws of physics still work? Not all of them. Did the demon who stalked me have blood cells I could examine under a microscope? I bet not. So to survive here I needed an education in charms, talismans and sorcery. The knife I carried in my sack was at least a talisman, and probably more than that. I suspected that it was extremely valuable, which raised the question of why the High Priest of Niichaad had given it to me, a beggar hed found in his temple. Then hed sent the beggar on a quest to kill a sorceress. In addition, hed put one small loaf of bread and a jug of wine in the sack, hardly enough for a journey through the mountains. I was clearly only one small piece in a larger plan. If I carried a valuable talisman, then he must have sent someone to watch over it. The Medruzz? Hardly. Was I bait? Or a diversion? Was I meant to draw attention away from the real Paladin? The hero who would slay the evil sorceress in her lair? My head ached and I stared down at the boiled vegetables. That stingy wretch, Hugo, could have spared more food for this trip. Maybe I should buy groceries with his precious knife.
While I brooded over my problems, Egan ate the food he couldnt pay for and told wild tales about faraway places he had probably never seen. They were all entertained. He drank down a great deal of the foaming brew they called beer and soon jumped to his feet, waving his arms around and reciting poetry, his eyes fixed on the young blond woman. Thy heart is like some icy lake, On whose cold brink I stand; Oh, buckle on my spirit's skate, And lead, thou living saint, the way To where the ice is thin-- That it may break beneath my feet And let a lover in! She did not look at him. Instead, ignoring him completely, she said to me, The inn is half empty tonight because it is too soon after the thaw for most travelers so you do not have to share a room with anyone. I can see that you have been on the road a long time and would like to rest. Come with me. Egan continued bellowing out poetry, louder and louder, as I got up and followed her into a long hallway with a couple of windows on one side and a handful of doors on the other. It was colder back here. I hoped the bed had a blanket. Egans voice faded away as the door to the hall closed behind me, The love I bear you, dearest, Would make the sweetest tale, We'd sail upon a sea of bliss, And I would lift the sail It did have a blanket. And the mattress was stuffed with straw that made a lot of noise, rustling as I sat down. Its a good sign, I thought. The straw is dry and sounds fresh. I yawned and glanced at the woman who still stood in my room. I said, You are very kind to help us. This room is better than I could have hoped, but I hesitated. I should leave, or perhaps find space in your barn, because I cant pay for this. I stood up again and looked down at the bed with regret. Like everything else, Egan has stolen the poetry. However, the poets are anonymous and won't complain.
She said, Do you love Egan? I blinked at her in surprise, and then laughed. No, I just met him this morning. Besides, I love I stopped, confused, and took a deep breath, Honey, Im too tired to love anyone. In fact, right now, I hate everybody. She smiled and waved a hand at the room, Sleep here. Help me serve the morning meal tomorrow and well consider the room paid for. It would lie empty tonight anyway. She stopped on her way out, The water barrel is in the room at the end of the hall. Theres plenty of water in it for washing up if you care to. The chamber pot is under the bed. We had a little more discussion about the chamber pot and then she left. I was exhausted enough to lie down fully clothed and sleep immediately, but instead I washed myself and the foul chamber pot. Then I hung the damp clothes on a peg in hopes theyd dry, and, at long last, got into bed. But sleep did not come easy, as I lay awake in the dark thinking about Arkin and Cory. I had loved Arkin. I wished he were here with me, his patient, logical mind sorting through the data of this bizarre world. I wished he were lying next to me, the warm smooth metal of his arms wrapped around me like armor, protective, holding me safe. So why, when my heart ached for Arkin, had I almost said to that woman, I love Cory? I did not! I could not! Any conversation with that man led to an argument. His opinions were stupid, his civilian clothes were dorky, his nose was too big, and so was his mouth. And he was entirely to blame for my predicament here, sleeping on straw and washing out chamber pots and trying to find his lazy ***. Counting up Corys faults made me smile. And I fell asleep before reaching the end of the list.
pssst, 123. :bandit: The blond's dress is by Tabala and I found it over at MTS2 when I did a search for medieval clothes.
"Some of them had legs." LOL. And I don't blame the woman for not putting in her lot with Egan. Is he mad? He has nothing. Her husband has a warm inn and a good living. If he wants her to come away with him perhaps he should get a job. Of course, I suspect that for him it's all in the wooing, not in the having, and I think she knows that too. For those of you who think I'm being old-fashioned, I am! This is, after all, a medieval world full of monsters and evil sorceresses. A woman would have to be insane to leave a sure thing like she has for the uncertainty of the dark forest.
Don't forget, though, it's always in the medieval swashbuckling stories that a woman runs away with the handsome bard with absolutely nothing to his name.
True, too true. We'll just have to see which way what's-her-name goes. Either way it's bound to be a great story. And LOL at Suitemichelle. Don't you mean "fonder?"
*I'm loving these comments. They're giving me ideas. But in the meantime...Andy is not alone * I hoped it was a nightmare. If I could just open my eyes and sit up it would evaporate. It would disappear. It must be a dream. How else, with my eyes closed, could I see the black cloud that rose up through the floor in the center of the room? I struggled against the paralysis of my arms and legs. I told myself, over and over again, it is a nightmare, nothing else! There is no black cloud, no curling mist that spins and takes shape, at first skeletal, then with flesh. There is nothing there! And yet I see it drift closer to my bed, looking down on me with empty eyes, bending over me, nearer, breathing with a faint hiss from between cold lips that brush against mine before moving lightly along my chin and jaw, toward my neck. A sharp and piercing pain erupts in my throat and flashes through every nerve, to the edge of all awareness. Someone speaks and I barely hear the words beneath my pounding heart, "No, my sister, I am not going to take you now. I taste your blood, and I warn you to stay away from the Temple of Makhist. Hugo is right, I cannot kill you. But if you find me there, then you will wish for death when I am done." I screamed and found my strength again and pushed her away. But she wasn't there. Shivering, I wrapped the blanket tightly around my shoulders and sat in a huddle on the bed. My neck hurt and I touched it nervously. I'd put the candle out before going to sleep earlier and the room was completely black, so I could not see what my fingers had found on my neck. But it was wet and sticky, and I knew it was blood.
Just a p.s. The sorceress is not a vampire. She just has all sorts of evil powers available to her. She can act like a vampire if she wants to. :shocked:
She's a very powerful sorceress. And through the winter she rules the land. Have you ever noticed when reading history how dangerous it was to be a part of the ruling family of any country? Kings, queens, or emperors, their families were always busy stabbing or poisoning, or beheading each other, or at least tossing each other in prison. Even children. If anyone offers you a chance to be king or queen, just say no. That's my advice.
I did not sit there for very long. The darkness was too full of noises, probably from the settling of old wood in the walls, but I wasnt sure. Nor did I have any way to light the candle again, so I felt my way to where my dress hung on the wall and slipped it over my head. I got my sack out from under the bed. The hall was dark, too. The innkeeper was not going to waste candles on sleeping guests, but there was a little light coming in through the windows. I wanted fresh air, so I walked as slowly and as quietly as possible on the ancient plank flooring, through the inn and out its front door. The door wasnt barred, which surprised me a little. The bar was leaning against the wall nearby. The trees outside were quiet. No wind stirred. I saw a piece of the moon through the leaves overhead and by its weak light I walked into the woods. My hands were tight on the strap of the sack, ready to tear it open if I heard or saw any sign of the Medruzz. At last, standing with my back against the rough trunk of a tree, I allowed myself to think about the nightmare. Hugo had told me that the sorceress lay in a deep sleep in her temple and would not awaken until the big winter wind returned. Had he lied to me? If he hadnt lied, then maybe it really had been a nightmare. It was too dark to see how Id hurt my neck but it was possible Id scratched myself in my sleep, fighting off the imagined witch. Considering all Id been through, nightmares were to be expected, and Id probably suffer more of them. And like all nightmares, it made no sense, because if she had no reason to fear me, then she had no reason to warn me. My plan, anyway, was to find Cory. I had no intention of hunting down that sorceress. I refused to be a part of Hugos crusade. Obsessed with my anger at Hugo I almost didnt notice the slender figure that left the shadows of the inn and walked into the woods, passing so close to me that I could have touched her.
