borislav
07-10-2006, 04:05 PM
The wind floated across the broken ground carrying with it the scent of spring flowers and the last bite of winters breath. From among the newly formed grass and weeds that grew up among the broken beams and shattered walls faint movement could be detected, the stirrings of the seasons first awakened, field mice, rabbits and other creatures just beginning to rise with the dawn. Across the clearing a figure rose from the deep shadows among the trees, appearing as silent as the shadows from which he came.
Slowly he made his way into the the ruins, being careful as to not disturb the wreckage, lest they himself away to whoever may be watching. As he reached the center of the burned out husk that was once a building, proud and defiant as it's inhabitants, he stooped to sift from among the debris. A broken piece of pottery, bits of armor scraps, and a the shattered cage of a snowshoe rabbit, was all that remained to mark that this was once a home to many a person. As he stood silently weeping, the figure spotted a stretch of cloth that was burned in places with cuts and gouges all along the length and breadth of it. As he stood silently among the ruins of what was once the guildhall of the Sgian Dbuh and slowly brushed the dirt from the cloth, he turned to face the rising sun. With a grim set of the jaw and a final brush of gnarled hand upon fine cloth, he donned the cloth that was once the proud tabard of Sgian Dubh. Though only moments before the tabard was scarcely recognizable being barely more than a tattered rag, it now shone with a deep vibrance and seemed to reknit itself as the figure walked away.
Upon reaching the edge of the ruins, the figure turned one last time to scan the wreckage that lay before him and with an almost imperceptible nod of his head that indicated a resolution had been reached, Borislav McFeegle, once WarHammer of Sgian Dubh, vowed that they would rise again, and to eradicate the Horde who had perpetrated this atrocity upon his guild. As he faded back into the forest, a faint whistle could be heard and Morana a giant among sabercat's could faintly be seen slowly following her hunting companion back into the forest. As the silence that had reigned over the ruins since that fateful night once more settled upon it, flowers could be seen to grow in various places, spots where fallen comrades had given their lives to fight back the invasion, and to help others escape with their lives.
These lives will not have been lost in vain, their spirits will be avenged, and their souls put to rest, knowing that their brethren have risen from among their ashes, ready to fight again.
Slowly he made his way into the the ruins, being careful as to not disturb the wreckage, lest they himself away to whoever may be watching. As he reached the center of the burned out husk that was once a building, proud and defiant as it's inhabitants, he stooped to sift from among the debris. A broken piece of pottery, bits of armor scraps, and a the shattered cage of a snowshoe rabbit, was all that remained to mark that this was once a home to many a person. As he stood silently weeping, the figure spotted a stretch of cloth that was burned in places with cuts and gouges all along the length and breadth of it. As he stood silently among the ruins of what was once the guildhall of the Sgian Dbuh and slowly brushed the dirt from the cloth, he turned to face the rising sun. With a grim set of the jaw and a final brush of gnarled hand upon fine cloth, he donned the cloth that was once the proud tabard of Sgian Dubh. Though only moments before the tabard was scarcely recognizable being barely more than a tattered rag, it now shone with a deep vibrance and seemed to reknit itself as the figure walked away.
Upon reaching the edge of the ruins, the figure turned one last time to scan the wreckage that lay before him and with an almost imperceptible nod of his head that indicated a resolution had been reached, Borislav McFeegle, once WarHammer of Sgian Dubh, vowed that they would rise again, and to eradicate the Horde who had perpetrated this atrocity upon his guild. As he faded back into the forest, a faint whistle could be heard and Morana a giant among sabercat's could faintly be seen slowly following her hunting companion back into the forest. As the silence that had reigned over the ruins since that fateful night once more settled upon it, flowers could be seen to grow in various places, spots where fallen comrades had given their lives to fight back the invasion, and to help others escape with their lives.
These lives will not have been lost in vain, their spirits will be avenged, and their souls put to rest, knowing that their brethren have risen from among their ashes, ready to fight again.