Subject: Firestar Collection
Date: 1/21/1999 7:32 PM Central Daylight Time
From: Deuce Mack
Cautiously, the boy proceeded down the path, brushing the flopping raven hair away from his eyes as he walked. There it was... his destination, the house of Avery Shiv Blade. He supposed it did no good to sit there and wonder if he was hired off the street because this job was of little importance, or if this man was some sort of raving lunatic who might open the door and instantly remove his head with a sword swipe.
Only one way to find out...
"Mr. Blade!" The knocks could be heard resounding through the house. "Are you home? I've been sent from the Outback to collect something? Please open up.."
Message 1 of 3 Subject 344 of 350
-
DoF Archive
- Archivist
- Posts: 2684
- Joined: Mon Feb 16, 2004 8:28 am
-
DoF Archive
- Archivist
- Posts: 2684
- Joined: Mon Feb 16, 2004 8:28 am
Re: Firestar Collection
Date: 1/21/1999 10:59 PM Central Daylight Time
From: SHIV BLADE
He sat in his small cottage. Alone, as always. Not even a simple chair was inside his house. He had been awake the past couple of nights, dreading what he knew was coming. It seems it is always worst to fear it he thought. He clutched the opal in his hand. His last few seconds to be with it.... to control the fire. The knock came... and then the frightend voice. He knew he was coming long beforethe knock. Slowley rising he went to the door, his hand still holding on tightly to what was his... or what was his. Opening the door he looked over the messenger. Holding out the Opal he said in a low voice... "I suppose you are ehre for this huh. Well take... take it now."As quickley as the boys hand took it, Avery shut the door. Trying to get ride of his shame. He heard him walk away, as he leaned against the door. A tear sliding down his cheek. Mumbling a promiss to himself he wiped it away... "But know this... i will posses it again one day"
From: SHIV BLADE
He sat in his small cottage. Alone, as always. Not even a simple chair was inside his house. He had been awake the past couple of nights, dreading what he knew was coming. It seems it is always worst to fear it he thought. He clutched the opal in his hand. His last few seconds to be with it.... to control the fire. The knock came... and then the frightend voice. He knew he was coming long beforethe knock. Slowley rising he went to the door, his hand still holding on tightly to what was his... or what was his. Opening the door he looked over the messenger. Holding out the Opal he said in a low voice... "I suppose you are ehre for this huh. Well take... take it now."As quickley as the boys hand took it, Avery shut the door. Trying to get ride of his shame. He heard him walk away, as he leaned against the door. A tear sliding down his cheek. Mumbling a promiss to himself he wiped it away... "But know this... i will posses it again one day"
-
DoF Archive
- Archivist
- Posts: 2684
- Joined: Mon Feb 16, 2004 8:28 am
Re: Firestar Collection
Date: 1/22/1999 10:41 PM Central Daylight Time
From: Deuce Mack
As instructed, the messenger boy took his prize out into the field instructed by his employer. The dusk's effect on the shadows of the distant forest made the area a haven for the ghosts and spectres of stories and tall tales, passed down over campfires and late night fits of boredom between friends. Suddenly, the fictional spirits seemed far too real.
"H, hey! Where are you?" Despite the grouchy old man's instructions, he stood fearfully, wondering if perhaps he was in the wrong place. He was to leave the unopened package in the long grass, unguarded, but what if some hapless thief came upon it? Trouble would certainly ensue.
The weight of the setting sun on his mind sat heavily, pressing him further into worry. As the burning sphere sank beneath the horizon, the boy's noisy footsteps had begun towards town at a rapid rate. Behind him lay a small sack, insignificant in the grass of the plains. Were he less afraid of the situation, maybe he would have turned back to look, to make sure the spirits of the night did not steal it away.
It was just as well he did not. For, they had.
From: Deuce Mack
As instructed, the messenger boy took his prize out into the field instructed by his employer. The dusk's effect on the shadows of the distant forest made the area a haven for the ghosts and spectres of stories and tall tales, passed down over campfires and late night fits of boredom between friends. Suddenly, the fictional spirits seemed far too real.
"H, hey! Where are you?" Despite the grouchy old man's instructions, he stood fearfully, wondering if perhaps he was in the wrong place. He was to leave the unopened package in the long grass, unguarded, but what if some hapless thief came upon it? Trouble would certainly ensue.
The weight of the setting sun on his mind sat heavily, pressing him further into worry. As the burning sphere sank beneath the horizon, the boy's noisy footsteps had begun towards town at a rapid rate. Behind him lay a small sack, insignificant in the grass of the plains. Were he less afraid of the situation, maybe he would have turned back to look, to make sure the spirits of the night did not steal it away.
It was just as well he did not. For, they had.