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Post by Phelan on Aug 21, 2006 18:56:47 GMT -5
It had been many years since Phelan had walked the lands of Norath. It had been many years since he had walked at all. Death had taken him and now it had sent him back, but he wondered why as he looked down from smoking mountains of his homeland.
He had once had a wife and child, but he could not recall thier names. He wondered how long it had been since he had laid down in the endless sleep that he was just awoke from.
So many questions and so few answers. He headed out to the sea. His eyes drank in the colors, the azure blue of the sky, the pale green of the sea and even the dark ashen moutain slopes were beautiful. The surf washed up on the beach with soothing sound. The sensation of moving his muscles was foriegn to him, he never thought that he would have to get used to living and breathing.
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Post by Phelan on Aug 23, 2006 19:10:32 GMT -5
There on the beach he sat, all day, just watching the wonders of life. Things he hadn't appreciated fully while he was living. He let his feet sit in the cool water, it was a sensation that gave him chills. His mind reached for distant memories but they always seemed just beyond it's grip. The sun slowly sunk and the night came.
Phelan still sat, his eyes blazing in the darkness. Not knowing what to do. He longed to go home, but he didn't know where home was or even if he had a home anymore. His mind had dreged a face or two from the fog that was his mind, but nothing more. No names came to him, just feelings of love, of pain, of saddness and many others.
Phelan pulled his dusty boots back upon his feet. Then he stood and let those trusty boots carry him towards what was awaiting him. He was sure that there was nothing left for him here, but something drew him towards the darkness that was once his home.
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Post by Phelan on Aug 24, 2006 18:29:33 GMT -5
As he made his way to the great gaping cave that was the gates to his long forgotten home he couldn't help, but drink in every sight, sound and color like a newborn. He had forgotten what it was like to be alive. Just the feel of cool air rushing into his lungs was an unimaginable sensation.
Through the gates he walked, the Guards glanced at him and glanced at each other, but nothing else. It seemed that he still exuded danger in his walk. He hadn't held a sword in his hands in years, his brain strained to remember the life that had once been his. Again a swirl of faces spun by along with feelings, but no specific memories came.
He felt a sense of familiarity of the stone tunnel, but he recognized nothing. What had sent him back? He wondered. He looked from merchant to merchant, but recognized none of them. His hands slid unconciously to where his swords hung only to find empty sheaths. He felt anger and remorse over that fact, but couldn't remember why.
He headed for the only place he could think to go, the tavern that was staring him in the face. He walked through the doors and every head swiveled to see who had walked in. Briskly all turned their heads and went back to their hushed conversations in the dark corners.
Phelan sat in a chair and rested his head in his hands. If only there was some inkling of what he was to do, where he was to go or even who he had been, he would have felt better. This foggy shade of an existence was cruelty.
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Post by Phelan on Aug 25, 2006 15:03:16 GMT -5
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