Collection of a Banner

[DoS Archive]

From: raylinxx@aol.com (Raylin xx)
Date: 25 Sep 1998 17:58:30 EDT



The Gods knew he loved her, Ellisa Morgan was more like a daughter to him
than the children he had left back in England. The Gods also knew she was a
handful, a fistful of brash stubborness.

The old man paused by the kiosk to shake his head at the whining posts,
a shower of whispy, snowy hair fell around a face full of well-earned wrinkles.

"Wretches would nae last a fortnight 'pon the waves."

Ellisa had been adament about a few things when she left, she was adament
with everything she said and any foolish enough to disbelieve had found out
quickly and on the painful side of her sword that she meant what she said.

His movements slow, always slowing lately, he still refused to acknowledge
he might be getting too old for such chores. Perhaps he would let the boy do
a *few* things around the house soon, not this; this was a matter of honour and
he would trust no others to the task.

Three months she had said, three months gone and if the state of the arena
was the same or had deteriorated, collect the Dragon's banners from their
place above the seventh ring.

"No one remembers me there anyway, old man."

Ellisa spoke the words to him and he knew there was a measure of sorrow
within them, but he knew better than to call her on the matter. She was off to
try and accomplish something that had the potential to get her killed and she
would not brook nonsense.

He had waited for hours in the shadowy depths of the cold caverns for the place
to be empty. Then with almost painful slowness he dragged a ladder over to the
seventh ring and set to removing two banners; both the same, a silver dragon upon
a field of black. Once they were in his possession he lowered himself to the
ground and folded them lovingly; they would be placed back upon the riggings of
the "Kissing Dragon" when Ellisa returned from her journey.

As Raylin made his way from the empty cavern he wondered if any would realize
the loss or realize the depth of it.

[DoS Archive]

From: drakewyni@aol.com (Drakewyn I)
Date: 26 Sep 1998 04:21:58 EDT


Drakewyn often went to the Arena in the late hours... She liked to listen to the silence, so different from the usual bustle and noise of the dueling hours. This night, she was practicing her art... the particular mixture of magick and bladework she was striving to merge into a unified skill. Just as she appeared in her usual cloud of golden rosepetals, she saw an older man carrying a bundle of cloth out the door.
It wasn't until a few minutes into her practice that she noticed the change... the missing banners...
Drakewyn knew at once who's banners they were... and knew, in her heart, that another warrior would not be returning. Offering a grand, formal curtsy to the remaining banners... and those gone as well... Drakewyn slid her emerald bladed sword home into it's sheath. "And so, the numbers become fewer still."
With another long look at the banners remaining, she shook her head and snapped her fingers... vanishing as she came, in a cloud of golden rosepetals.