Fitful Dreams...

[Leyland Lamond]

Sweat beaded on his brow as Leyland tossed fitfully in his sleep clenching his white knuckled hands around the blankets at his hips. His angular face was contorted with a frown, red strands of hair brushing his cheek and shoulders as his head tossed from side to side. Without warning, the muscles of his face slowly began to calm and release their tension causing the surface of his skin becoming smooth once again. The thrashing movements of his sturdy form slowed before ceasing altogether accompanied by a warm smile moving on his lips. Green eyes flickered open and Leyland sat up in his bed, brushing the hair from his face with both hands. It had grown over the last few years and had now reached his shoulders in soft waves.

“Myriah?” His lips moved with the faintest trace of sound. His strong face was brushed with a wave of sadness as awareness and reality overtook him, “Another dream...”

The newly risen dawn light filtered through his window, highlighting the sculpted muscles in his chest and abdomen before slowly caressing his strong arms and shoulders. His body was the body of one who took incessant care to keep it in top physical shape for the demands of his career. Dawn, he thought, as he let his bright eyes shift to the window, a hand reaching up to stroke his neatly trimmed fiery beard. He swiped the covers from his form with one large arm revealing a muscular lower body, which had been clad in nothing but the sheets he had just removed, and sat on the edge of his bed for a moment.

Leyland's eyes then flicked over to the chair near his bed, resting on his clean uniform and shining helmet.

“Best get to it then Leyland.” He muttered, taking comfort in the warm sunshine filtering through the window.

[baby1111007]

She stood on the deck of the ship, the wind whipping the long braid of hair back behind her and molding the borrowed silks she wore against her body. Her blue eyes gazed into the distance, her skin still pale from the months of captivity. If anything, her ordeal only emphasized her dreamy beauty. Her petite frame was held military straight, even dressed in the feminine silk. Her head was held with an elven pride that must surely enrage the more noble born Varinites.


The Captain watched her quietly, noting that she had regained some of the hardness she had when he first encountered her as a guard in Cear. She was a tough little thing, that was certain, but he found himself fearing for her. The damn female was stubborn, he would give her that. Yet...he will never forget how she looked when he found her.

The elderly Captain's eyes hardened a bit as his fist clenched at his side. Violence to a female always enraged him, even all these months later, the thought of murdering the scum pleased him. Seeing the guardswoman, her neck in chain, bloody...battered...broken. He shook his head a moment, trying to quell the images of the thieves' den he found her in, but the images resurfacing. The tiny elven guard who had once helped him and his men staring at him blankly, the bloody bruise on her temple going untreated for Rammen knowing how long. It had taken months before she regained her memory, months before she stopped jumping at shadows.

He approached her, placing an almost fatherly hand on her shoulder. "We will arrive in a few days...are you sure you wish to return to Cear?" His weathered face watched the girl, noting the stubborn set to her chin, the quiet strength in her eyes. He wondered if he should tell her what he knew...if she was strong enough to hear the words and face their meaning.

"I am certain, Sir." Her voice was husky...unused, though the scars around her neck had slowly faded. The shadows in her eyes still lingered, eyes far to old for her face. "I...it is important to me that they know...I did not abandon my post. And...and that he knows, I did not willingly abandon him." At the thoughts, her face looked heartbroken, her eyes going distant. She wondered what was he like now, if he had thrived in the role he chose, if he was happy...if...if he found someone who was more worthy of him.

"Lass...there be something you need to know then..." The Captain kept a steadying hand on her arm as he too looked out over the waves. "When we found you...and saved you...I was working on my own personal business. They were smuggling on my routes, making us look bad...bringing down the Fleet on good sailors. I was shocked as hell to find you there...and...while we took our justice and cleaned up our mess, I asked questions." The Captain's voice grew grave.

"Lass, you were not in the wrong place at the wrong time...someone hired those sea rats to take you. The man was blubbering, spilling his guts to try and save his own hide. He said they were paid a lot of money to take you and keep you...but somehow the idea was formed to sell you to the slave traders. We got there before the negotiations were complete, but it does not change the facts...Someone in Cear wanted you out of the way enough to pay a very generous amount."

The elven maiden gazed at the waves, her eyes haunted as she thought about what she was...who she was...and just what she may have lost. She squared her shoulders bravely, her head held high. "Then I guess someone will be very upset when I return." Faces flashed in her mind...a female dark elf, a bald sneering human male, a blond human female, a devilish looking human male. Then a pair of laughing green eyes, an infecteous smile framed by a reddish gold beard. The Captain left her to her thoughts, his warning given and did not hear her whisper.

"I did not leave you, Ley...I am coming home."



Meanwhile in Cear

The redheaded male tossed fitfully in his bed, his hands twisting the blankets as his dreams were haunted by the past. A serious elven face gazed back at him...blue eyes, those haunted blue eyes seeming to reach to his very soul. A rare smile creased pink lips, a smile that was like the sun breaking through the clouds. Her voice, so serious, so soft lingered in his memory .

"I am coming home."

Leyland awoke, his green eyes searching in the dim light of his cabin. "Myriah?" He could almost smell the scent of lavender in the air. He closed his eyes, savoring the scent, clinging to the image in the dream.

[Balamor Lansmor]

The little halfling is siting by the fire if the mystyvail inn drinking a glass of wine,enjoying the warmth of the fire as the rain comes down outside.

a figure steps up from the crowd, the hafling glances up woundering who would disturb his pice and quiet,seeing the darkelf for the first time in months anouance showing "what do you want more money for the deed i paid you in full for?"

The darkelf shakes his head "i just came to warn you ling, shes been freed"the answer came to the halflings ears in a wisper,but was no less shocking as if the darkelf had screamed it.the little halflings eyes narrow dangerously."what do you mean shes been freed i paid you for her indefint holding, how? who? oh nevermind
you failed then? can she be recaptured? "

The darkelf shakes his head "shes on a fleet mano'war and fairly out of reach".

the halfling smiles. " well i guess we have a problem"

the darkelf shakes his head again"no ling, you have a problem not me"

the halfling looks at the darkelf up and down "verywell tell your boss we are done he was paid and could'nt come through on the deal"

the darkelf nods and turns to walk back through the crowd, he gets three steps and falls dead in the mystyvail alone in a crowd.

there is no sign of who killed the darkelf or why. and no sign of any halfling sitting by the fire.

(well you can imagine what happens next in the mystyvail)