Of stories told...

[DoS Archive]

Date: 9/4/97 9:59 PM Pacific Standard Time
From: Arlingond

The walk home for Arlingond was something he needed. The cool air, time to think as he made his way down the deserted streets of RhyDin Town. An occasional shadow would catch his eye as he would turn a corner, but none coming close to the young warrior, his walk noting his confidence with the blade he carried at his side.

It had been a long night in the arena for Arlingond, as he had to prove a few points to others as well as himself, taking on ten opponents. He knew why his father had slowed a step, for when he was young, he also dueled many matches in one evening. Though only twenty four, the young Warlord felt his muscles ache from the grueling night.

As he walked he thought of Xyclone, and the words the Warlord had spoken to him about his father. The thoughts only brought a deep sigh from the young man, as is was such an obvious untruth, he did not even know why he had to defend it. Yet, once again, Arlingond thought about RhyDin and how there were so many who loved to jump on his father at every opportunity. He could not understand at times why his father even tried.

Turning the corner his gaze caught the shadow of Questrion Manor at the end of the street. Arlingond liked the fact that he could walk home from the duels, and here in town, wars and the hatreds and jealousies it brought were far away. As he came closer to the manor he noted the figure standing outside and the smell of tobacco on the air.

Good evening Arlingond, well done this night," the mage's voice called out, catching Arlingond unawares, and wondering just how Moralitor knew. "Oh, and that story about your father, ludicrous, and should I have to prove it, I most certainly will. I just hope those who tell it will realize that this is somewhere we need not go," Moralitor continued, then turned and headed up the stone path towards the house. "Good night Arlingond," his last words as he opened the front doors.

"Good night Moralitor," the reply, as Arlingond leaned against the wall by the front gate. "Why would they even start a story like this," he thought to himself as he stood there, looking up at the stars, hoping somehow the Valar might be able to provide an answer for him.