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28-03-07, 03:09 PM

Fire! Friend and foe alike. Useful tool, giver of warmth, destructive element.

Many fires are lit under the firmament tonight, no two alike in kind, nor purpose. Horns awaken the citizens of Mistas when watchful guards spy the burning houses in the city. People form lines to handle the buckets of water, yet dawn lights up naught but heaps of smouldering wood and ashes where the two houses have been. Exhausted helpers gather around, staring into the fire with burning, reddened eyes, wondering what caused this disaster.

To the east, the mines of Lakeshire are lit day and night by torches thrown into the darkness by the miners. What began with chairs and tables at the entrance slowly turns into a barricade; by unspoken agreement never fully abandoned. None knows what happened in the caves beyond, yet after the disappearance of yet another miner and his horse, after a piercing scream in the dark, none dare to enter such a cursed place anymore.

Far to the west another tragedy takes place. Exhausted, shaking scouts tell of plants come to live, great mounts of leafs, roots and refuse sitting in the swamp, yet coming alive and trying to grab the passing explorers. Only by means of burning torches could those attacks be repelled, for like everything that grows, these beasts too seem to suffer from the heat.

Yet not all fires lit this night bear messages of fear and destruction. Like a dancing swarm of fireflies the lanterns of the caravans move through the night, hurried along by the outlook of arrival on the very morning. From the west the gypsies return to Mistas, with them the guards that served as escort as well as messengers from the Forest Home. Past the Citadel the second caravan travels home, expected to return once another day has gone by. In the citadel itself the glaring fire of the forges heat the room as the smiths work to reinforce the wheels promised to the gypsies for their new wagons.

Such is the nature of fire, that it is necessary, that it makes life pleasant and bearable, yet that it may bring sorrow and destruction as well. Use it with care, such as you would take care of a sharp blade, for it is naught but a weapon in the wrong hands.

Game meeting tonight, Keg and Anchor Tavern in Trinsic, 8pm GMT. Apologies once more for the interruption in the game.

28-03-07, 03:09 PM	#14 (permalink)
Ariss Guest Posts: n/a	Day 13 - Foes and Fires Fire! Friend and foe alike. Useful tool, giver of warmth, destructive element. Many fires are lit under the firmament tonight, no two alike in kind, nor purpose. Horns awaken the citizens of Mistas when watchful guards spy the burning houses in the city. People form lines to handle the buckets of water, yet dawn lights up naught but heaps of smouldering wood and ashes where the two houses have been. Exhausted helpers gather around, staring into the fire with burning, reddened eyes, wondering what caused this disaster. To the east, the mines of Lakeshire are lit day and night by torches thrown into the darkness by the miners. What began with chairs and tables at the entrance slowly turns into a barricade; by unspoken agreement never fully abandoned. None knows what happened in the caves beyond, yet after the disappearance of yet another miner and his horse, after a piercing scream in the dark, none dare to enter such a cursed place anymore. Far to the west another tragedy takes place. Exhausted, shaking scouts tell of plants come to live, great mounts of leafs, roots and refuse sitting in the swamp, yet coming alive and trying to grab the passing explorers. Only by means of burning torches could those attacks be repelled, for like everything that grows, these beasts too seem to suffer from the heat. Yet not all fires lit this night bear messages of fear and destruction. Like a dancing swarm of fireflies the lanterns of the caravans move through the night, hurried along by the outlook of arrival on the very morning. From the west the gypsies return to Mistas, with them the guards that served as escort as well as messengers from the Forest Home. Past the Citadel the second caravan travels home, expected to return once another day has gone by. In the citadel itself the glaring fire of the forges heat the room as the smiths work to reinforce the wheels promised to the gypsies for their new wagons. Such is the nature of fire, that it is necessary, that it makes life pleasant and bearable, yet that it may bring sorrow and destruction as well. Use it with care, such as you would take care of a sharp blade, for it is naught but a weapon in the wrong hands. Game meeting tonight, Keg and Anchor Tavern in Trinsic, 8pm GMT. Apologies once more for the interruption in the game. Last edited by Ariss; 28-03-07 at 03:10 PM.