The plump woman overheard Lucas' speech and decided to interrupt. "Ah, are yew-all goin' up to Volkanny-burg today? It's still a fur piece, take yew-all most of th' day to walk thar if yew-all miss the stage. Personal-like, ah don't reckon thar's a lot to do 'tween hyar and thar, but then ah don't get out much. Thet ag center for the region's just up at th' next four-way, though, purt'near sumpin' to walk to in an hour. Jest lemme know, and ah'll flag down the stage, or not." And she went back to doing dishes.
----------------
"You want me to what?" Layla asked her mother, incredulously.
"I don't understand it, either," Faye said, "but those are the orders straight from the top -- and I mean all the way at the top. Peter's the acting big cheese here, now that your -- usual boss is off in Veracia. He says do it, we do it, ours not to question why."
"But --" Layla sputtered, only to be cut off by Faye. "Layla, honey, this is not optional. You're the only one that can do this, and there's a reason for it, even if we don't know what it is. Now get ready to go, one of the guys is out saddling your horse and we don't have much time."
"Well ... if you put it that way ..." Layla considered. "Truthfully, I'd rather bicycle; I can make better time. Can you watch Zachary while I'm gone?"
"I assure you, I'm a highly proficient baby watcher," Faye laughed. "But maybe a little too indulgent; after all, look how you turned out."
Volkanenborg
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Graybeard
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Re: Volkanenborg
Because old is wise, does good, and above all, kicks ass.
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Viking-Sensei
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Re: Volkanenborg
"Well, I can't NOT do this." Lucas said, a hint of shame leaking into his voice. "Toivo signed on to a legitimate tour of the world so he could bolster his seed, root, and twig collection. Geomancers... go figure. Anyway, we had to blow through the last town so quick... not that Port Lorrel is an agricultural center or anything... but I'm not leaving the area without taking him to at least one boring podunk farmer's swap meet."
Besides, he added internally, I think it's in my contract and I don't get paid unless I do.
Besides, he added internally, I think it's in my contract and I don't get paid unless I do.
How could a plan this awesome possibly fail?
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AdamZero
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Re: Volkanenborg
I smiled as I drew my cloak around me, my plate picked clean of food. "I'll be at the graveyard if anyone needs me." to allay the startled look of the plump woman, I smiled at her and said simply. "I'm trying to find the grave of an old friend. He wandered the path I walk now, so I'm checking every out of the way town's graveyard... he didn't linger in the cities much." Before she could question it, I was heading for the door, my cloak billowing dramatically... because Boris was making it flow like that...
I took a long breath of morning air as I headed to the graveyard. I could feel it from here, a deep well of deaths from age. Toil and anguish of honest work drenched the land. It was a necromancer's paradise. Honest deaths. Good deaths. Old deaths. Lives seen to their natural end! I started skipping like a fool for a moment before I remembered where I was going. Luckily noone was out... no... people were out working! Already! I laughed. I'd forgotten how farming folk lived. Even when I used to be one myself... Ah the brutal toil of a middle-some child.
The grave yard was before me, and I could feel it before me. I smiled as I let my eyes chill over as the grey started to become visible.
I took a long breath of morning air as I headed to the graveyard. I could feel it from here, a deep well of deaths from age. Toil and anguish of honest work drenched the land. It was a necromancer's paradise. Honest deaths. Good deaths. Old deaths. Lives seen to their natural end! I started skipping like a fool for a moment before I remembered where I was going. Luckily noone was out... no... people were out working! Already! I laughed. I'd forgotten how farming folk lived. Even when I used to be one myself... Ah the brutal toil of a middle-some child.
The grave yard was before me, and I could feel it before me. I smiled as I let my eyes chill over as the grey started to become visible.
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Sareth
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Re: Volkanenborg
"I suppose I'll just wait here then," I replied, "not shooting anyone." I gave a wink Lucas' way. "Just be back in time for that stage." I kicked back, eating more of the delicious breakfast.
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Graybeard
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Re: Volkanenborg
[VERY belated retcon to deal with a continuity error...]
Layla's muscles protested as she cycled toward the pass. I should be in better shape than this, she thought. She'd decided against taking a horse in favor of her bicycle -- maybe just the tiniest bit of rebellion against her mother's preparations for this job, or maybe her own desire to work herself back into shape. She rationalized the decision with an emphasis on the second possibility, although later, she'd admit to herself that the first one probably had more to do with it.
Layla had always prided herself on her conditioning (well, except for that one nine-month interruption). Many of the Gewehr's men -- disgracefully many, she thought -- did their exercises off-handedly if at all, and had the flabby bodies to show for it; what had drawn them to the Gewehr, in addition to the steady "work," were the opportunities for drinking and whoring (not that that was ever an option for her), and who needed to be physically fit for those? Of course, the members with that attitude also tended to be the ones that died young. Layla, on the other hand, had always practiced a simple, abstemious life style, and her fitness had already saved her life at least twice; she had no doubt that it would do so again. Still, she hurt more on this ride than she thought she would.
It was worth it, for Zachary.
She started to think about her assignment. Much would depend on the men with Clem. Clem himself, she knew; he was another Kugelheim product, a few years older than she was, a basic thug, not the greatest in the brains department -- in fact she was surprised he'd survived so long. His limited skills were one reason why he'd been assigned to patrol the northern reaches of Gewehr territory. Not much happened up there -- usually -- and he'd be out of harm's way (right...). She'd be able to deal with him, she thought. The other two, however, were unknowns, people who'd joined the Gewehr after she'd moved to Kiyoka to take over the operation. They weren't supposed to be the sharpest tools in the shed, either, but she wouldn't have the advantage of having worked with them before, and who knows how that interaction might develop.
Well, can't worry about it yet, she thought; time to apply muscles to this hill. The road steepened as it headed for the pass, and Layla churned the pedals, puffing.
Layla's muscles protested as she cycled toward the pass. I should be in better shape than this, she thought. She'd decided against taking a horse in favor of her bicycle -- maybe just the tiniest bit of rebellion against her mother's preparations for this job, or maybe her own desire to work herself back into shape. She rationalized the decision with an emphasis on the second possibility, although later, she'd admit to herself that the first one probably had more to do with it.
Layla had always prided herself on her conditioning (well, except for that one nine-month interruption). Many of the Gewehr's men -- disgracefully many, she thought -- did their exercises off-handedly if at all, and had the flabby bodies to show for it; what had drawn them to the Gewehr, in addition to the steady "work," were the opportunities for drinking and whoring (not that that was ever an option for her), and who needed to be physically fit for those? Of course, the members with that attitude also tended to be the ones that died young. Layla, on the other hand, had always practiced a simple, abstemious life style, and her fitness had already saved her life at least twice; she had no doubt that it would do so again. Still, she hurt more on this ride than she thought she would.
It was worth it, for Zachary.
She started to think about her assignment. Much would depend on the men with Clem. Clem himself, she knew; he was another Kugelheim product, a few years older than she was, a basic thug, not the greatest in the brains department -- in fact she was surprised he'd survived so long. His limited skills were one reason why he'd been assigned to patrol the northern reaches of Gewehr territory. Not much happened up there -- usually -- and he'd be out of harm's way (right...). She'd be able to deal with him, she thought. The other two, however, were unknowns, people who'd joined the Gewehr after she'd moved to Kiyoka to take over the operation. They weren't supposed to be the sharpest tools in the shed, either, but she wouldn't have the advantage of having worked with them before, and who knows how that interaction might develop.
Well, can't worry about it yet, she thought; time to apply muscles to this hill. The road steepened as it headed for the pass, and Layla churned the pedals, puffing.
Because old is wise, does good, and above all, kicks ass.
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AdamZero
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Re: Volkanenborg
just underneath Jamie's plate, unbeknownst to Marcus, Boris had gentle scratched a messaged into the grain of the wood. One that would be lost with enough time. Follow Marcus for a laugh it read. Boris's finger-scratching simple, but elegant.
----
Marcus smiled as he hung upside down from a tree that looked dead, but was simply one that no longer needed its leaves to sustain itself, with so much raw material underground, it could get all the energy it need from that. The boy relaxed as he watched the spirits watching him. They were surprised, to say the least, to see someone not of the village among them. Even more so that he was alive and could see them. Still, as Boris waltz with the phantom of a noble to the spectral songs a few of those among the dead who remembered their musical talent. To anyone else the songs would be on the wind, and the mist that seemed to condense around Marcus would make him seem a phantom himself.
----
Marcus smiled as he hung upside down from a tree that looked dead, but was simply one that no longer needed its leaves to sustain itself, with so much raw material underground, it could get all the energy it need from that. The boy relaxed as he watched the spirits watching him. They were surprised, to say the least, to see someone not of the village among them. Even more so that he was alive and could see them. Still, as Boris waltz with the phantom of a noble to the spectral songs a few of those among the dead who remembered their musical talent. To anyone else the songs would be on the wind, and the mist that seemed to condense around Marcus would make him seem a phantom himself.
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Sareth
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Re: Volkanenborg
I arched an eyebrow. A laugh? Really? Don't be rediculous. There was no way I was likely to see anything whatsoever humorous following around a macabre fellow who carted around a talking skelleton and hung out in graveyards. That was not the place to find funny things at all.
So naturally I followed.
So naturally I followed.
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AdamZero
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Re: Volkanenborg
(ooc: music used below is Fukai Mori (deep forest) from Inuyasha. I took the lyrics and tried to match mine to the beats as best I could. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9DIo_ybk ... re=related <--go there for the music w/ original lyrics)))
Marcus had since returned to level ground. He stood leaning against a stone crypt, a narrow guitar in his hands. He began to strum a simple tune. It was soft, steady and with a strong inner strength.
I walk along I walk along, a road that’s hard to see, though its no different see
all the plants they in the waning light have withered into ash.
The rocks cut deep and the boots my father made that day are wearing thin.
They will turn to ash, as does everything, I see in this world.
the echo of drums seemed to come from nowhere.
And they come to me those few but lovely words that my mother gave to me then~
when you walk alone The whole world waits for you
Ages seem to pass From dawn unto dusk
conversations last until a dying breath
and all moments are gold all sights precious
A flute's soft tune drifted through the stones, and the drums fell silent as Marcus's guitar picked up.
alone alone I patiently stand to watch the clouds pass by
a bird calls and its young reply a happy family
The drums came back in as the song continued...
My feet are aching me as the rocks are gnawing me, like beasts within the sand
Though I walk along with a heart of song my eyes are open wide...
Time moves own, with a rhythm of its own, we are masters only of our minds...
when you walk alone The whole world dies for you
Ages come and go Dusk falls into night
silence stretches on without any break
everything is ash all dark commonplace.
The guitar fell silent and Marcus closed his eyes as soft patterings echo'd across the graves, like tiny bells. The flute stood out and it became apparent that Boris was holding the instrument, the solo reached a crescendo before the whole grave was filled with music once more.
when you walk alone The whole world waits for you
Ages seem to pass From dawn unto dusk
conversations last until a dying breath
and all moments are gold all sights precious
when you walk alone The whole world dies for you
Ages come and go Dusk falls into night
silence stretches on without any break
everything is ash all dark commonplace.
Marcus's voice and guitar were the only thing to sound across the grave as he concluded the song.
As I pull the new boots on, a sigh echos in me
I have just begun, to truly see~
Marcus had since returned to level ground. He stood leaning against a stone crypt, a narrow guitar in his hands. He began to strum a simple tune. It was soft, steady and with a strong inner strength.
I walk along I walk along, a road that’s hard to see, though its no different see
all the plants they in the waning light have withered into ash.
The rocks cut deep and the boots my father made that day are wearing thin.
They will turn to ash, as does everything, I see in this world.
the echo of drums seemed to come from nowhere.
And they come to me those few but lovely words that my mother gave to me then~
when you walk alone The whole world waits for you
Ages seem to pass From dawn unto dusk
conversations last until a dying breath
and all moments are gold all sights precious
A flute's soft tune drifted through the stones, and the drums fell silent as Marcus's guitar picked up.
alone alone I patiently stand to watch the clouds pass by
a bird calls and its young reply a happy family
The drums came back in as the song continued...
My feet are aching me as the rocks are gnawing me, like beasts within the sand
Though I walk along with a heart of song my eyes are open wide...
Time moves own, with a rhythm of its own, we are masters only of our minds...
when you walk alone The whole world dies for you
Ages come and go Dusk falls into night
silence stretches on without any break
everything is ash all dark commonplace.
The guitar fell silent and Marcus closed his eyes as soft patterings echo'd across the graves, like tiny bells. The flute stood out and it became apparent that Boris was holding the instrument, the solo reached a crescendo before the whole grave was filled with music once more.
when you walk alone The whole world waits for you
Ages seem to pass From dawn unto dusk
conversations last until a dying breath
and all moments are gold all sights precious
when you walk alone The whole world dies for you
Ages come and go Dusk falls into night
silence stretches on without any break
everything is ash all dark commonplace.
Marcus's voice and guitar were the only thing to sound across the grave as he concluded the song.
As I pull the new boots on, a sigh echos in me
I have just begun, to truly see~
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Graybeard
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Re: Volkanenborg
(OOC: Well done, Adam... /OOC:)
She was almost to the pass now, and about time; she was definitely going to have to up her workout schedule, this had hurt too much. Pausing to puff a little, Layla dismounted from her bike and stashed it where she'd remember it, before doing the final quarter mile or so on foot. She tucked the revolvers Faye had given her into her jacket, hoping against hope that she wouldn't have to use them.
The pass wasn't close to high enough to reach above timberline, but it was still fairly narrow and craggy. She thought that Clem and his buddies would be hiding among the rocks; it just seemed like his style. Ah, sure enough, there he was, right at the top and close to the road, behind a large boulder. A quick scan turned up the other two men as well. Layla sighed; couldn't the Gewehr set up a better ambush than this? Well, it's for the best, she thought as she stepped into the road where Clem should be able to see her.
"Clem! It's Layla ... Sorensen." There, she'd said it, but it hurt like hell... "I can see you up there. Come on down here; we need to talk."
-------------
"So are yew-all goin' to take the stage today or not?" the plump innkeeper asked Lucas and Toivo (and Ayiee). "It's due in purt'near an hour, and ah've gotta send word to flag it down if'n yew-all are gonna be on it."
She was almost to the pass now, and about time; she was definitely going to have to up her workout schedule, this had hurt too much. Pausing to puff a little, Layla dismounted from her bike and stashed it where she'd remember it, before doing the final quarter mile or so on foot. She tucked the revolvers Faye had given her into her jacket, hoping against hope that she wouldn't have to use them.
The pass wasn't close to high enough to reach above timberline, but it was still fairly narrow and craggy. She thought that Clem and his buddies would be hiding among the rocks; it just seemed like his style. Ah, sure enough, there he was, right at the top and close to the road, behind a large boulder. A quick scan turned up the other two men as well. Layla sighed; couldn't the Gewehr set up a better ambush than this? Well, it's for the best, she thought as she stepped into the road where Clem should be able to see her.
"Clem! It's Layla ... Sorensen." There, she'd said it, but it hurt like hell... "I can see you up there. Come on down here; we need to talk."
-------------
"So are yew-all goin' to take the stage today or not?" the plump innkeeper asked Lucas and Toivo (and Ayiee). "It's due in purt'near an hour, and ah've gotta send word to flag it down if'n yew-all are gonna be on it."
Because old is wise, does good, and above all, kicks ass.
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Sareth
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Re: Volkanenborg
My back pressed to the bark of a tree, I arched an eyebrow. "He sings? Who knew?" I quietly muttered from my hiding spot.
I had followed up to the graveyard in keeping with the instructions from Boris' "note." What I had expected to see, I wasn't certain, but soft, mournful singing had not been it. Boris had said funny, but this wasn't funny. Instead, it was a bit heartwarming. A bit macabre, but heart warming.
Why would Marcus sing in a graveyard?
Silly question. The guy hauled a talking skeleton around on his back. Clearly he had some sort of death fetish. I was fine with that. I had a bit of a death fetish myself, though mine was more oriented to causing it, rather than just examining it. Still, this seemed like a pretty typical graveyard.
Shrugging, I stepped out from behind the tree.
"Marcus? The stage is supposed to come in about an hour... You want to get on it?
[OOC - Sorry I've been quiet the past week. Long story.]
I had followed up to the graveyard in keeping with the instructions from Boris' "note." What I had expected to see, I wasn't certain, but soft, mournful singing had not been it. Boris had said funny, but this wasn't funny. Instead, it was a bit heartwarming. A bit macabre, but heart warming.
Why would Marcus sing in a graveyard?
Silly question. The guy hauled a talking skeleton around on his back. Clearly he had some sort of death fetish. I was fine with that. I had a bit of a death fetish myself, though mine was more oriented to causing it, rather than just examining it. Still, this seemed like a pretty typical graveyard.
Shrugging, I stepped out from behind the tree.
"Marcus? The stage is supposed to come in about an hour... You want to get on it?
[OOC - Sorry I've been quiet the past week. Long story.]