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Satyr tracks (Completed)

Started by Griznuq, February 08, 2008, 01:36:56 PM

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Johan

Eswarth listened intently to his resolute friend.

"A-right, then, Maragarn. Lead on and we shall follow." He fell in step behind the young satyr.
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Dray

Fir'Ath was astonished at this unexpected turn in events.

He mounted Mithril and trotted alongside the Centaur, being sure the beast caught his victorious and silly-ass grin.

Chassic

Another ailing Satyr? Perhaps it was the same illness as Maragarn's Grandfather, perhaps not. The herbs Maragarn carried might not be able to save this other creature. If it were to die feeling this "shame" that Maragarn spoke of it may not pass over. Strong emotions, especially shame or sadness can bind a soul to eternal suffering in this world. Charon could not let that happen.

"Well if this Satyr dies I should be there to help, just in case" said Charon. He did not direct the comment to his companions, rather it was to the skull resting on a tree stump in front of him. "Will you be joining me, or would you rather camp here?" As if in response the skull slipped off the stump and rolled clumsily to Charon's feet.

"I'm coming," yelled Charon to his companions. He quickly gathered up his things and ran toward the group. Any signs of his previous anxiety attack have vanished.

Dray


Griznuq

Red grinned a little and nodded his agreement. "They'll have to accept that the world is changing with or without them."

a few minutes later, the group crested a hill. Looking down there was a mixture of cone shaped tents, and larger rectangular cloth covered structures. Satyrs milled about hanging laundry, gathering fire wood, tanning hides, and the like.

Just on the other side of the settlement was a large shifting brown mass of Buffalo.

Maragarn easily picked out the large tent where his family would be found. There was smoke coming from the center, indicating a fire was going. His mother was cooking! A thought that brought the comforts of home to the forefront of his mind.
=]V[=

Wildfire

Maragarn sighed in relief. Though he had seen his nomadic village every day of his life, often from a similar vantage point, he now saw it differently and became acutely aware of how much he missed it.

The party drew closer to the village and Maragarn began to feel a bit of emptyness. He did miss his family during his travels but he came to a hot realization that he didn't have much promise of a fulfilling life. He had tasted something more. His village seemed so small now.

Maragarn said, "My mother will be sure to welcome you with a feast my friends! I do hope you like it. If the smell of the food is any measure to it you'll question as to if you actually want to leave."

They traveled closer and Maragran stopped and turned to face the group. "Remember, my kin have very little contact, if any, with outsiders. They may be both curious and fearful. Though the elders were alive during the night of flying fires so they are not ignorant of others ways...just removed."

Maragarn felt slightly ashamed of his kins paranoia but it was a reality that should be known.

He turned and continued into the village.
Wildfire

One should never underestimate the stimulation of eccentricity

Johan

Eswarth fell a few paces behind Maragarn as they approached his villiage. He wondered what the appropriate custom might be for such an occasion. He could only guess.
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Dray

Fir'Ath stayed on Mithril thinking of how much more intimidating he would appear on the beast...'and if a quick getaway is needed, all the better,' he thought.

Chassic

Charon fumbled along behind the group, adjusting his satchel and reorganizing the supplies within. Scurry clung safely out of the way, nestling in the thick and wiry hair on Charon's head.

"Well, I hope that my services are not needed," said Charon, lowering his spider friend back into his satchel. "Still it would be interesting to learn how these folk prepare their dead".

Scurry ... scurried back into the safety of his little web home inside Collinsworth without a reply.

Griznuq

Maragarn lead the group down the path and into the town. Satyr, ranging in color from black, to white, to brown stopped to watch the group. Mostly their faces wore expressions of curiosity, though some of the older faces were painted with disapproval.

Within moments, the group was clearly the center of attention. Chatter quieted to whispers. Mothers put a staying hand on the shoulders of their young to keep them from running out to the path.

Eswarth held the majority of the attention, though Fir'ath was a close second.

Maragarn's father stood at the door flap of a large green canvas tent. This would be the tent of worship where the daily services would take place. The services were made up mostly of thanks and praise to Elohnna, followed by begging for forgiveness that lasted almost a long.

The service would last a few hours. Maragarn recognized the prayer that was being said as the closing of the ceremony. Judging by the time of the day, this service typically consisted of the older Satyr.

Maragarn's father's face was stern, but his eyes brimmed with relief. "Welcome home my son," he said. "I can tell by your face you were successful, no doubt thanks to your companion?" he faced Eswarth as he asked the question.
=]V[=

Wildfire

Margarn looked back to his traveling companions and nodded almost too slightly to be noticed. Taking a deep breath Maragarn said, "Aye...though Honored Eswarth was not the only one. Fir'Ath the Winged One, Charon the Bone Talker, and the dwarf Hommal, were of equal help. Were it not for theor battle prowess I might not be here now." Maragarn turned and gave his friends a sincer bow of gratitude.

Pulling the pouch of sapling bits out, Margarn eagerly said, "Where is grandsire? I have the cure here for him...please...no more time should be wasted"
Wildfire

One should never underestimate the stimulation of eccentricity

Johan

Eswarth smiled as they entered the satyr village, and when the somewhat older satyr spoke apparently to him, he began to answer. Margarn was quicker though.

Eswarth smiled again, and put his hand out to the elder. "We are only glad to be of service." He said grandly. "Margarn places too much wieght upon our aid; he would likely have completed his task without us, but we were glad to lend aid."
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Griznuq

(OOC: WF, I can't for the life of me remember Maragarn's father's name. For the sake of this post, I'm just going to call him Gary. You can change the name anytime you like.)

OOC: His name is Serephus

Serephus's face changed a bit at Eswarth's words. Those familiar with the expressions of the Satyr would recognize it as the pride of a father hearing of his son's competence. Those who were unfamiliar would just call it different.

"Thank you," Serephus said as he grasped Eswarth's hand. "We are in your debt," he said addressing the group.

"My son," Serephus said turning to Maragarn. He stood to face Maragarn, and put his hands on his son's shoulders. He stern visage melted away a bit, and his eyes brimmed with tears that refused to fall.

"I've missed you," he said simply, clapping one of his son's shoulders. With a deep breath, Serephus's voice returned to normal. "Let's be on with it."

Gary walked away from tent. "Follow me if you will."
=]V[=

Wildfire

Maragrn's breath shortened and he felt as though he would almost drop a tear at his sire's kind and bolstering words. Success was not something Maragarn was ever praised with as he was generally looked at as a weakling and outcast amongst many of the elders.

He took a deep breath and glanced to Eswarth and smiled in gratitude. He glanced back to the others and nodded and closed his eyes and once again took a deep breath.

Looking towards the nomadic village, Maragarn stood tall and began to walk with Serephus. He was too happy to speak and simply savored the moment.
Wildfire

One should never underestimate the stimulation of eccentricity

Johan

Eswarth clopped along behind the satyrs, oblivious to the familial dynamics playing out before him.
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