The Green Dragon - Part 2 - The Barrow-Downs Discussion Forum

Carrûn · 01-30-2003, 08:09 PM

Nárello sat quietly in his corner. His sketch was almost complete and he looked over it. It was from a story Awyrgan had told him. His mind fought to remember the details as his hand worked its way across the paper. A lady with long blond hair stood defiantly in front of a winged beast with a great dark shape riding on it. The boy sighed as he considered the next pen strokes. He had pressed Awyrgan for more details of the creature but the nephew of Halbarad would say naught and so Nárello was left to his imagination for a better representation of the scene. Dark, cloaked, better make his eyes red like Awyrgan when he gets angry. Oh, right - all I have is charcole. He rummaged around in one of his pockets and managed to find a small pallete of red dust Awyrgan had given him as a gift one.

He put some finishing touches in; a man of great but now dimmed magisty lay beneath a struggling horse, many other men lay scattered accross the bottom of the page. The child smiled in satisfaction. I am good at this. Tracking is more fun but this is easier. He paused in his work to watch the general hussle and bustle of the Inn for a time. Some sat in groups telling stories, others held council and some seemed to prefer to take comfort in the presence of four walls and a fire; content to sit by themselves in silence.

Something was bugging him about his drawing though. It just doesn't seem complete. Summing up a bit of courage his rolled the paper up and, placing the quill inside his jacket, strode over to where the Innkeeper was in the midst of dealing with several customers. This time he managed to wait until she was finished before he spoke.

"Excuse me Ma'm..." She turned and looked at him kindly but firmly. "I'm not leaving until tomorrow morning," he said hurridly. He unrolled the parchment. "I was wondering if you could tell me what this is? I drew it." Her eyes widened slightly.

[ January 30, 2003: Message edited by: Carrûn ]

01-30-2003, 08:09 PM	#11
Carrûn Wight Join Date: Dec 2002 Location: Behind you, counting to 3 Posts: 234	Nárello sat quietly in his corner. His sketch was almost complete and he looked over it. It was from a story Awyrgan had told him. His mind fought to remember the details as his hand worked its way across the paper. A lady with long blond hair stood defiantly in front of a winged beast with a great dark shape riding on it. The boy sighed as he considered the next pen strokes. He had pressed Awyrgan for more details of the creature but the nephew of Halbarad would say naught and so Nárello was left to his imagination for a better representation of the scene. Dark, cloaked, better make his eyes red like Awyrgan when he gets angry. Oh, right - all I have is charcole. He rummaged around in one of his pockets and managed to find a small pallete of red dust Awyrgan had given him as a gift one. He put some finishing touches in; a man of great but now dimmed magisty lay beneath a struggling horse, many other men lay scattered accross the bottom of the page. The child smiled in satisfaction. I am good at this. Tracking is more fun but this is easier. He paused in his work to watch the general hussle and bustle of the Inn for a time. Some sat in groups telling stories, others held council and some seemed to prefer to take comfort in the presence of four walls and a fire; content to sit by themselves in silence. Something was bugging him about his drawing though. It just doesn't seem complete. Summing up a bit of courage his rolled the paper up and, placing the quill inside his jacket, strode over to where the Innkeeper was in the midst of dealing with several customers. This time he managed to wait until she was finished before he spoke. "Excuse me Ma'm..." She turned and looked at him kindly but firmly. "I'm not leaving until tomorrow morning," he said hurridly. He unrolled the parchment. "I was wondering if you could tell me what this is? I drew it." Her eyes widened slightly. [ January 30, 2003: Message edited by: Carrûn ] __________________ "Dic, hospes, Spartae, nos te hic vidisse iacentes dum sanctis patriae legibus obsequimur."